Who: Riley Finn & Spike What: Out on the water, sailing very far away When: Week Six, Saturday Night Where: The unofficially named Jolly Cocksucker. Status: Ongoing
Riley had never had so much fun in his entire life as he'd had on the ride to the marina with Spike. The fact that they hadn't even bothered to stop when they'd hit the other car had made him laugh; he'd never done that before and he was having so much fun doing it.
Sure, he'd left about a thousand dollars in a white envelope stuck under the floor mat of the convertible, and he'd left the convertible parked in the marina's back parking lot, but the brief flash of responsibility hadn't marred his amusement in the least.
He wondered what that said about him, but at the moment, he didn't care. He was lying in bed, his chin on Spike's shoulder, watching the sun set. He'd been standing up on the railing before, watching the anchor drop as they'd paused for the night, but once the sun had started to drop, he'd gone below to the biggest bedroom and dropped on the bed beside Spike.
The sun on the water was beautiful, a shimmering orange pathway that seemed to stretch across the entire expanse of ocean in front of them. If he closed his eyes, he could feel the waves gently moving the boat under his feet, and that was calming him down quite a bit.
He'd been trying, all day, not to dwell on the fact that he was terrified. Not of Spike; never of him. He trusted Spike more than anyone else, but what he was afraid of was not being enough. He'd been through that before, and even though he knew better this time, it was still something he was afraid of. But he hid it as best he could, and smiled gently. "Want to head up on deck, watch the moon come up on the water?"