“Shut it” He murmurs trying to sound more annoyed than he was. He huffed and fixed his hair after the other man tousled it. It was somewhat endearing to him actually, not that he would actually admit it as he looked around before selecting a book and a notepad to take with him and sliding them into the top of the bag. He paused “Wait…. Three miles?!” He said, slightly outraged at mere thought of that hike “No. Take me home. Im not doing that.” He said, crossing his arms, stubborn as all hell. It wasnt good enough when Derek said that it was only half that and he had been joking. “Why are we hiking anywhere? He asked, confused, tilting his head “Arent we just going to a campground?” It dawned on him that Derek had no intention of going to a campsite. That they were hiking to where they were going.
He paled slightly. After thinking for a moment he had a general idea of where they could be going. He shook his head “What? you know how many people get lost in those woods every year?” Here come the statistics. He spouted them off as Derek guided them into the car. Missing people reports, wildlife and botany that could cause them harm, the terrain it self. Spencer was a little bit more afraid of the woods than he would care to admit.
He whined softly as they got out of the car and he had to shoulder his bag at the trailhead, looking back to Derek with a slightly pained look. He was barely a few steps onto the trail when he missed his bed and his warm apartment and his books. And Derek was good at this. He had to hurry to keep up, tired and short and out of shape he was anxious about being left behind he was struggling and very unhappy with his current position. “Derek… just… slow down. Please” He said, making a face and huffing, trying to keep the hair out of his eyes.
It’s a joke, of course. It’s only one and a half miles, kid – see? Now it doesn’t sound so bad, does it? Spencer doesn’t seem to find it amusing but still follows him willingly to his truck. Not once has he said no – not seriously, anyway. While it’s true that Derek would try persuading him to give it a try regardless, if Spencer really wanted to go home, Derek would ultimately respect that choice. He’d tease the hell out of him, of course, but he’d still respect it. But that moment doesn’t come. No. He whines a bit about the idea of hiking to their campsite and begins giving him another anxiety fueled lesson on the probability of dying due to one thing or another, but he never demands to be taken home.
And then soon they’re parking at the foot of the trail and Derek is easily shouldering his own bag, his sleeping bag strapped to the top of it. He waits until Spencer’s managed to get a hold of his before heading down the trail, excitement thrumming through his veins. He tries remembering to set a pace Spencer can keep, but every now and then he finds his steps quickening. Until, of course, the younger man calls out to him.
Derek slows, tossing a grin over his shoulder and at the other man.
“Sorry, kid. It’s just been too long.” He’s missed this – the weird sort of peace he gets when away from everything else.
Still, he slows so Spencer can catch up, and then tries letting the other man set the pace. They’re nearly to the half-way point when Derek decides a break is in order. Spencer’s becoming far whinier than before, his statistics taking on a jittery quality, and so Derek leads him several yards off the trail to a nearby stream. He tries finding the calmest spot he can and shoots Spencer a wide smile.
“You ever been fishing, kid?” he asks, expression brightening as he unties his pole from its home along the left side of his pack. He easily puts it together and works on stringing the line. He moves closer to Spencer and adds a lure. “Here – let me show you,” he offers, unsurprised by his answer. He demonstrates how to hold the pole and then hands it over, verbally walking him through how to make the first cast. He even demonstrates with his own hands, as if he were holding a pole of his own, but when that doesn’t work he settles for moving behind Spencer and guiding his movements with his own hands. “No – more gentle, like this. Just relax, pretty boy,” he mutters, his body pressing against his. He pulls back and casts, guiding Spencer’s movements, and adjusting his hands so that he can trigger the release. The lure drops into the water and causes a slight ripple, but it goes where they had been aiming. He grins, his mouth close to his ear. “Good job, kid. There’s hope for you yet.”
