#kcsplace

“Boys, this is your new coxswain, Bobby Moch.”

The boy in front of them has a smug grin on his face. He stands with his chest puffed out.

A ripple passes through the team and Don swallows as Bobby stares them down. Ulbrickson says something else, but Don doesn’t quite catch it. His mind is blank, fear and curiosity dancing on the edges. Bobby’s eyes trail back and forth, a predator gauging its prey. Don is sure Bobby looks at him just a few beats longer than the others and he turns his focus to the dock to hide his burning face.

This is all a little much if Don is being honest. Just yesterday they were all getting used to Morry, working through his calls. Now, they have to start from scratch and with someone who looks as if he’ll eat them all alive.

When they climb into the shell, Don keeps his eyes down, terrified that one wrong move will send Bobby into a rage. But as they row out from the dock, Bobby leans forward, taps Don’s leg.

“I’m not going to bite,” he teases when Don jolts.

Don purses his lips, tries to keep his emotions off his face.

“Keep your eyes on me and listen to what I say. Then, we’ll be alright.”

Bobby’s voice is gentle, but there is an edge to every word, almost a warning. Don gives a small nod, turns his attention to Ulbrickson in the boat nearby.

Once the coaches send them on their way, Don panics. Bobby is rough, callous, and when he calls them to stop, he keeps rubbing salt into the wound. Don struggles to catch his breath, keeps himself bent over to avoid Bobby’s ire.

“Hume,” Bobby snaps him back to attention. “You gonna stare at your foot stretcher all day?”

Bobby pulls his megaphone back down, raises a brow. With a mumbled apology, Don straightens up, pulls into position. Bobby’s gaze turns a touch lighter but it doesn’t calm the storm in Don’s mind.

He’s relieved when practice is over, though it doesn’t last long knowing he’ll have to face Bobby again after class. The boys remind him he’s not alone in his trepidation — what with their grumbles following them to the locker room, but nonetheless Don is adrift.

Morry didn’t turn him on his head like this. He wasn’t abrasive, didn’t try to cut down to his core. Don can’t put his finger on why Bobby terrifies him and he carries his concerns into the week, his thoughts drifting over to the coxswain the moment he leaves his lectures.

He’s making his way to the lunchroom when a tapping on his shoulder grabs his attention. To Don’s surprise, Bobby sidles up alongside him, eager smile despite his need to almost sprint just to keep up with Don’s stride.

“Don, right?”

Don nods, his hands already twisting his bag strap. He thought Bobby had all their names memorized but he doesn’t want to put Bobby on the spot.

“Last names are easy,” Bobby shrugs, reading Don’s mind. “Where are you headed?”

“Lunch,” is all Don can say.

He bites the inside of his cheek, wondering what Bobby wants from him. This friendliness can’t be without reason.

“Mind if I join you?” Bobby lights up, there’s a little hop to his step.

“Okay,” Don shrugs, not sure of what else to say.

He wouldn’t have said no. Not to Bobby, not to anyone really. Accommodating is easier than rejection and Don pushes down the less pleasant thoughts.

Bobby asks questions all the way to the lunch room, when they’re in line, even once they find a place to sit. Don struggles beyond one word answers but Bobby isn’t deterred. He keeps chatting on between bites of food, pours his whole life story out to Don. Well, not entirely. Don can sense when Bobby is holding back, skirting around certain details. He won’t prod, but the curiosity is there nonetheless.

He listens to everything Bobby says, fascinated that he doesn’t slow down. When Don nods or tilts his head in interest, Bobby’s eyes shine and his smile seems a little bit bigger.

“Hope I’m not boring you with all this,” Bobby cleans up their table before Don can protest.

“No,” Don watches Bobby fly to the garbage can and back. “It’s nice.”

Don winces at his attempt at a compliment but Bobby flashes him a smile.

“You’re sweet.”

That doesn’t seem the right word but Don can feel his face grow warm anyway.

“I’ll see you at practice then?” Bobby’s voice is light, perhaps even hopeful.

Having lost track of time, disappointment seeps into Don. He finds himself not wanting to part from Bobby so soon.

“Yeah,” he manages and Bobby only laughs.

With a small wave, Bobby departs from the lunchroom leaving Don to stare at the table. None of his emotions make sense. He‘s acting as if he’s only just learned to be human. All that courses through him is a frustrating truth.

Bobby is an enigma and Don has a feeling he won’t be deciphering him any time soon.

~

Elation doesn’t begin to cover it.

From second chances to a stroke that actually listens, Bobby is above the moon.

The moment he laid eyes on the JV boys, his life shifted. Yes, their rowing is awful compared to varsity, but they don’t beat him down. Instead, they listen, try to be better than the day before.

Even when they complain, nothing is a stab to the heart or an insult that Bobby will carry for the rest of his life.

Then, there’s Don. So quiet, so careful. Unlike anyone Bobby has ever met. He needs to know more, his story, but Bobby isn’t sure where to start.

This blow in confidence is exciting really. Johnny, Chuck, Shorty, those boys are easy to read, but Don is another matter entirely. A new challenge that Bobby can’t wait to take on.

When he spots Don in the hallway, Bobby seizes his chance. He bites down his laugh, so amused at how terrified Don seems at any given moment.

Figuring his usual self will work best, Bobby drawls on and on about any little thing that comes to his mind. He’s sure Don is bored out of his mind, but when he looks at him, there’s Don looking back. He follows along to everything Bobby says. Doesn’t tell him to stop talking, doesn’t look at his food as if it’s more interesting.

Even when Bobby tries to bait him, Don replies with the best thing Bobby could hear.

“It’s nice.”

What comes out of Bobby next he doesn’t have time to stop.

“You’re sweet.”

He curses inwardly but when the corner of Don’s mouth quirks, his face turns a little redder, Bobby realizes he has nothing to fear.

Don really is sweet. He’s not going to tear Bobby down or push him away. At least he hopes that’s true.

He hates that he has to leave Don now, but knowing practice is only a few hours away is enough to push him to class.

After saying his goodbye, all Bobby can think of is Don and just how nice lunch was. Maybe this time things will be different, perhaps he’ll actually have friends on the rowing team this year.

When practice comes around, Bobby is almost shaking with excitement and they can’t get into the shell fast enough. He smiles at Don, his heart racing at the small grin he gets in return.

The boys’ rowing still needs work, fine-tuning, but they’re a hell of a lot better than when he first met his crew.

He’s sure they’ll be winning races in no time and when Don offers his hand to help him out of the shell, Bobby takes it without hesitation.

This new pattern is easy to fall into. Practice, classes, spending time with Don. He’s not avoiding the other boys on purpose, Don is just always there.

They get lunch, they study together — sometimes they sit outside, Bobby laying on the grass and rambling while Don hums along.

They’re night and day and yet with Don Bobby has never felt more like himself. He’s starting to understand some of Ulbrickson’s critiques now, why varsity never felt right.

While studying in the library together, Bobby glances up from his notes. He watches Don scribble notes, his other hand planted on an open textbook. The focus here is different from the shell, but it’s inspiring all the same.

Smiling to himself, Bobby goes back to his own studies and he lets out a small sigh of content.

For the first time in his life, Bobby wants to grow close. With Don, he hopes to build a friendship that will last them a lifetime.

~

“Do you think we should invite Bobby to our next fire?” Roger asks.

Eight boys sit around a roaring fire, sharing drink and stories, a welcome break before the weekend.

“I mean he is crew,” Jim pipes up. “It’d only be fair.”

“If he even likes us,” Shorty grimaces.

Don stares into the flames, noting the boys’ hesitation, the confusion surrounding their cox. Bobby’s attitude has improved but whether it’s due to a turned leaf or their rowing, Don isn’t sure.

“What do you think, Don? I saw you spending time with him a few days ago,” Gordy calls Don out of his thoughts.

“Hm?” Don stares, loses his voice with all his friends staring.

“Gordy said you were with him. What was it like?” Chuck presses.

“Oh,” Don blinks.

He doesn’t know where to start. Their time together isn’t anything special and yet the days have never left Don’s mind. Bobby’s smile, his sparkling eyes, even the way he waves goodbye has made a permanent mark.

“He…it was…it was fine.”

This gets Don a few raised brows and he ducks his head, holds himself pretending he’s just cold.

”So, you don’t like him much then,” Johnny muses.

“No!” Don shocks himself, shocks everyone with his sudden outburst.

The silence is thick and everyone waits for Don to explain himself.

“I…I like him,” Don manages.

“Well, if Don approves that’s good enough for me,” Chuck shrugs.

The conversations build up again and while Don does not join in, a smile still graces his face. He means those words. Despite his hesitation in the beginning, Don enjoys Bobby’s company. Even his brashness has grown on Don and sometimes it makes him laugh.

These thoughts of Bobby warm Don on this colder night and when they all head back to the dorms, Don finds himself excited to see Bobby at their next practice.

Life has other plans however and Don runs into Bobby when he least expects it.

He’s at the music shop, a familiar haunt when campus gets to be too much. The owner is a kind, quiet man not unlike Don himself and he enjoys Don’s piano playing. On more than one occasion, Don has brought new customers to the store and today happens to be one of those times.

Don doesn’t pay any mind when the bell on the door jingles. He keeps on with his playing, steady, focused. The keys are a comforting pressure under his fingers, the melody is one ingrained into his very being.

When the song comes to an end, Don flexes his fingers, rolls his wrists. Whether he’s been playing for a few minutes or many hours, he can’t tell, but he doesn’t mind. Getting lost in music is one of life’s greatest pleasures.

“You’re good, Don. Why aren’t you majoring in music?”

Don pales hearing Bobby’s voice and he’s slow to face him. Bobby is propped up against the wall, just enough out of Don’s peripheral. As if he didn’t want to be noticed.

“Doesn’t really make money,” Don mumbles. “I’m not that skilled.”

Bobby hums, thinking over Don’s words. Life isn’t as kind as it used to be, if it ever really was.

“Well, I thought it was beautiful. You’ll have to do a private concert for the boys and me.”

The very idea terrifies Don, but he doesn’t say so. Instead, he clasps his hands in his lap, stares at them as if they hold all the secrets of the world.

“Only if you want of course,” Bobby is quick to correct himself. “I hope you didn’t mind me listening in just now.”

“No, not at all.” Don speaks with his heart.

As jarred as he was at first, he likes that Bobby didn’t make a big show about his playing. He waited, watched, but there wasn’t a spotlight. It’s the most comfortable Don has felt with an audience in years.

“Can you play some more?” Bobby’s voice is soft, almost shy when he asks this and Don is shocked this is the same person that yells at him in the shell.

Collecting himself, Don nods, his fingers hovering over the keys. The first few notes carry Don away and with him comes Bobby, a moment meant just for them.

~

Bobby doesn’t quite believe his ears.

He’s known about the boys’ bonfire nights, watched them walking away as a group after practice. As much as his heart ached, he wasn’t about to ask to join them. He hadn’t earned his place with them yet.

They’re a breath of fresh air, but there’s still the stains of the past, Bobby steeling himself. All it takes is a moment and he’s back to where he was, without a shell, without a team.

So, Jim inviting him to come along on this night, Bobby is almost moved to tears. He agrees without question and when everyone is ready to go, Bobby is marching right along with them.

He filters back and forth between the boys, joining in one conversation, splitting off into another. When they reached the fabled fire pit, Bobby chooses the spot next to Don, watches as Joe and Gordy get the fire started.

“Bobby? First sip?” Roger holds out a glass bottle.

He doesn’t have to be anywhere in the morning so Bobby grabs the bottle, taking more than just a sip. Whatever the alcohol is, it burns, but not in an awful way. Bobby gives it an approving nod, hands the bottle to Don.

He doesn’t know why, but he watches Don take a sip, notices his deep swallow, the tightening of his jaw. Then, the moment is over all too fast and the bottle is gone.

Bobby all but whips his head to the now crackling fire, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Uncertainty leaps on him and he shudders, hoping someone starts an engaging topic soon.

“Cold?” Don asks, scooting a little closer to Bobby.

“Not sure.” That at least is the truth.

To Bobby’s relief, Johnny goes on a tirade about varsity and Bobby is more than happy to gossip about the team that caused him so much grief.

He knows he should let sleeping dogs lie, but he can’t help the comfort he feels, the validation when the boys agree that varsity needs a few pointers on more than just rowing.

“That’s why you were kicked off?” Shorty balks at Bobby’s revelation.

“Yeah,” Bobby sighs, “but I can’t blame Ulbrickson either. In the end, it was all for the best.”

“I guess,” Gordy frowns at this.

A small laugh leaves Bobby and he looks at the boys. “I’ve got all of you now. And you’re giving varsity a run for their money.”

Smiles are passed between the group and it’s Roger who breaks the ice.

“So you do like us then?”

Bobby wants to laugh this off, to say some cheeky remark, but his voice catches in his throat and his eyes start to sting. He blames the alcohol for the sudden rush of emotions as a shaky breath leaves him.

“Course. I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

A murmur passes through the group, approving nods, gentle looks. It’s almost too much and Bobby grabs the nearest bottle, taking a big gulp.

“How about another round, fellas? To celebrate our newfound friendship?”

This breaks the tension, there’s a rousing cheer and Bobby starts to come back to himself. Two, three bottles are being passed around now and Bobby gratefully drinks from each one.

When midnight edges in, Bobby is floating, content with the drunken waves. He leans against Don for balance, presses into the warmth of his body.

“Might head on back,” Joe slowly gets to his feet. “Getting a little cold.”

The night has a harsher bite but Bobby doesn’t feel much of it thanks to Don. The other boys agree, staggering, wobbly as they get to their feet. Bobby tries to follow their lead, but with one unbalanced step, he nearly falls on his face.

It’s all thanks to Don catching him that he doesn’t and Bobby accepts Don’s help with no protest. Walking away from the fire is harder than Bobby expects and he slurs his apologies every few steps.

“Here,” Don comes to a stop.

Bobby squints, frowns at him. The next thing he knows, he’s on Don’s back. His arms dangle in front of Don’s chest, his knees are hooked perfectly into Don’s elbows. Bobby tries to balance his chin on Don’s shoulder, but the path is bumpy. All he can do is let his head flop around.

Bobby tries to keep his eyes open, sleep creeping up with every step Don takes. It doesn’t help that Don is soft, warm, and he just wants to curl into the comfort Don offers.

Through his blurred vision, he thinks he counts seven boys ahead of them and Bobby’s inhibitions take over. Words are far from his mind, but he wants to let Don know just how much he appreciates this, appreciates him.

The next best thing doesn’t sound like such a bad idea so Bobby gives in. He slowly moves his head, presses his lips in the crook of Don’s neck. It’s a short kiss, nothing more than gratitude, yet Don shivers, shifts Bobby’s weight in his arms.

Content with what he’s done, Bobby’s eyes drift shut and he doesn’t feel a thing after that.

Bobby wakes to a cloudy day, a slight headache and a weight on his chest. He stares at the ceiling, the memories of the night before crashing into him.

He kissed Don.

Never mind it wasn’t on the lips. Bobby isn’t careless like this, he’s kept this part of himself well guarded. Again, he blames his drunken state and he’s thankful Don didn’t just abandon him outside.

Still, worry gnaws at him. He’s sure Don won’t tell the others but if he’ll ever talk to Bobby again, it’ll be a miracle.

Burying his face into his pillow, Bobby curses himself. Just when things were starting to look up, he’s gone and made a mess of it yet again.

Thank god he has today to wallow in and Bobby decides to do just that, pulling the blanket over his head.

~

The hot water does nothing to alleviate Don’s thoughts.

The kiss on his neck has left a permanent mark, even if it’s only one Don can see. He presses his fingers into his skin, still feels Bobby’s breath on his neck.

They’re supposed to be friends, nothing more. Yet, the door Bobby has opened has Don both terrified and somber.

For a few days now he’s been grappling with his thoughts of Bobby. He’s finally figured out why Bobby is different and his heart breaks again and again.

He’s been good, this side of himself has been dormant. Now, the beast has escaped and Don is powerless to stop it. This only spells disaster.

Despite how nice Bobby felt, despite the way Bobby begged him to stay the night, Don knows they can’t cross that invisible line. If Bobby even remembers any of it. That would be for the best and Don hopes he’s the only one who has to deal with this.

His decision has been made and Don lets the tears roll down his face, to be washed away by the shower. He’ll stay cordial, friendly, but that’s as far as this can ever go.

When practice rolls around, Don is a shadow of himself. He trudges to the locker room, keeps his head down all the way to the docks.

When Bobby bounds over to him, bright smile, Don can’t return it. Building the wall starts now, before they can get closer.

To his chagrin, Bobby senses his anguish and he places a hand on his arm.

“Is everything alright?”

Bobby’s touch burns and Don steps back. He doesn’t respond, just heads toward the shell. It’s a curse that Bobby sits in front of him, that he has to always be with what he can never have.

Concerned eyes watch him but practice waits for no one and they’re out on the water with the coaches yelling at them. Don hears, sees, nothing. By the time they’re back at shore, Don rushes to the locker room, changes and slides out right when the other boys clamor in.

Just when Don thinks he’s out of the weeds, Bobby stands in front of him. No matter what steps Don takes, Bobby mirrors them before grabbing Don by the wrist. He hauls him behind the shell house with strength Don never imagined and he can only comply. Yet, he keeps his eyes on the ground when Bobby stops them, not wanting to see whatever concern Bobby has for him.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Bobby orders with crossed arms.

In a way, it’s a relief that Bobby has chosen a harsher path. Any doubt has left Don now and he closes his eyes. Bobby can and will never know the truth.

With the shake of his head, Don tries to find an excuse that’ll satisfy the both of them. “Just a bad week.”

Bobby sighs, dropping his arms. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No,” Don can admit this at least. “I just need time.”

“Don,” Bobby tries to speak before going quiet.

The two stay in the silence, only a breeze passing between them. Don could leave now, but his feet stay planted, waiting for Bobby.

“Want to get dinner? Go out for drinks tonight?” Bobby asks.

It’s not what Don expects and his mind reels. Not out of fear or anger, but gratitude.

“That sounds nice,” Don nods.

That’s the last reply he should give, but Don doesn’t care now. Maybe he’s been wrong about his approach. Spending time with Bobby won’t be the end of the world and perhaps they’ll find some nice girls at the bar. Not that any girl will make Don forget about Bobby, but it’s worth a shot.

When Bobby smiles, Don falls to pieces. He’s making everything harder than it has to be, but it’s the life he’s wrought. He has to pay the consequences.

~

Going out won’t fix Don.

Bobby doesn’t know what else to do though and he sighs when he adjusts his tie for the third time that night.

It was the kiss. That’s the only explanation. Don isn’t one to flip on a dime. To have sudden coldness, eyes that won’t meet his own, Bobby has made a mistake and he can’t take it back.

All he can hope to do now is salvage the friendship, move on until it’s forgotten.

When he meets with Don just outside campus, there is a sadness in his eyes. It’s not the lamplight or anything else. Bobby has seen this look time and time again, it’s practically burned on his mind.

Still, he puts on a smile, leads the way to a local restaurant. The dinner they share is pleasant, but stiff. He can see Don avoid his gaze and trying to find conversation is akin to pulling teeth. Bobby hates how the call of drink puts his mind at ease and he all but pushes Don to the bar.

He orders a heavy drink. It’s foolish, but Bobby needs to get his nerves to calm. To his surprise, Don orders something strong as well and before Bobby knows it, they’re at the back of the bar, squeezed together in a booth. The music is loud, the patrons louder and no one pays them any mind.

Bobby gulps down his drink, hums as the buzz hits him in no time. When he looks over at Don, his drink is at the bottom as well and Bobby laughs at this.

Don gives him a worried look, tilts his head but Bobby just waves it off. “Just happy is all,” Bobby lies.

Bobby thinks they order more drinks, the night grows hazy and Bobby finds himself out in the alley, trying to cool himself down. He doesn’t know where his coat is but it doesn’t matter. He leans back against the cool brick and closes his eyes.

“You forgot your coat.”

Don’s voice melts over him and Bobby looks at him with a small smile.

“Thanks, Donny,” he slurs, taking the coat from his hands.

“We should go home,” Don mutters when their fingers brush.

Bobby nods, takes a step closer to Don. His face is flushed, strands of hair drape across his forehead. Bobby can feel the heat of his body despite the gap between them and he wants more.

Maybe Don doesn’t feel the same, but it doesn’t matter. Bobby reaches up, cups Don’s face before bringing him into a kiss.

Don follows, kisses back with a need that matches Bobby’s own. Bobby soars, a spark bursts to life. The kiss doesn’t last long and when they part, Don is the first to speak.

“You’ll regret this in the morning.”

Bobby wonders who Don is speaking to, Bobby or himself.

“I won’t,” Bobby whispers against Don’s lips. “Neither will you.”

He brings him into another bruising kiss, thankful that Don doesn’t push him away. Strong arms wrap around him, lifting him just a little off his feet, flying him away to another place.

When he’s back on the ground, Bobby struggles to catch his breath. Don’s forehead presses against his, shallow breaths mixing in the stillness of the night.

The next thing Bobby senses is Don above him, his body pressing into the mattress. The open mouthed kiss sends a shiver down Bobby’s spine and he throws his arms around Don’s shoulders. Nothing this good, this beautiful could be wrong.

When they’re a tangle of limbs, clutching tight to each other, Bobby ignores the cruelness of reality. Right now, all that exists is him and Don, true poetry in motion, a love that nothing else will compare to.

~

Morning brings with it a cloud of shame.

Don sits up in the small bed, looks for where his clothes are before he casts a glance at Bobby laying next to him. God, he’s perfect. Don wants to reach out, touch the marked skin, but he needs to leave before everything turns sour.

Bobby’s eyes flutter open then leaving Don with no chance of escape. He’s ready for the shouting, the throwing of insults and starts to get off of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Bobby’s voice is dry, quiet.

Don’s shoulders hunch up to his ears. He’s glad to have his back turned, to not see what sits in Bobby’s eyes. Biting the bullet, Don finds his voice, his hands clenching into fists.

“You regret this, right? I’m sorry I took advantage. I won’t talk about this and I hope you don’t either.”

“Don?” The bed shifts behind him and Don shivers when Bobby’s hands land on his shoulders. “What are you saying?”

A lump forms in Don’s throat and he wills back the tears. “I…we were drunk. We weren’t thinking. You aren’t like me. Just don’t get me thrown off the team. Please.”

The words come out in a flurry. An attempt to smooth out something, anything. He can’t keep the crying at bay any longer and Don shakes.

“Oh, Don. Donny,” Bobby hugs him tight. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I’d be ratting on myself then.”

Don wipes at his face, chokes back a sob. What Bobby is saying can’t be real, this is all a horrible dream.

“It might be too soon to say, but I love you, Don.”

Bobby turns Don’s face to look at him. Through his tears he can see the truth in Bobby’s eyes. There’s fear, hesitation, but most of all, there’s hope.

A weeping gasp tears itself out of Don and he pulls Bobby into his arms. He holds onto Bobby, his only tether to something real and forgiving. Bobby’s hug is just as secure, his tears soaking into Don’s skin. Don doesn’t know who is gracing them but he sends his thanks out into the universe all the same.

Bobby takes his face in his hands then, pulls Don into a soft kiss. Don gives his all over to Bobby, commits this embrace to memory. When it ends, they stay tangled together, Bobby resting his head on his shoulder, Don tangling his fingers through Bobby’s hair.

“Us against the world,” Bobby murmurs, snuggling impossibly closer to Don.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The road will be long, arduous, but Don has survived this long and so has Bobby. From a tumultuous first meeting to now, Don wouldn’t trade a second of it.