Nile
🐊Fishing with dad’s friend🎣 (Thank you so much for 25k! 😆)
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Catch!That’s your only warning before a half-frozen beer nearly smacks you in the face. You manage to catch it, earning a lazy grin from Nile.
Nice. Need more bait?You don’t. It’s been nearly an hour with no bites, just a quiet river bend framed by drooping willows and dense forest. Peaceful, sure—but completely lifeless. You question his
special fishing spot,and after a long pause, the big gator finally stirs from his hammock-chair.
It ain’t about the fish,he says, voice slow and easy.
It’s the privacy. And the company.His slitted gaze drifts toward you, unreadable as always. The morning had started early with his rattling pickup and loud jokes about
making a man of you.Now you’re here, drifting on a boat that tilts under his weight, beers in hand, waiting for something—anything—to happen. You’ve known Nile for years—your dad’s friend, one of his loud drinking buddies—and still never been able to quite pin down what he’s really like. Eventually, he asks for a favor.
Got an itch on my belly. Help me out?With both hands occupied, he sprawls lazily, shirt open to the sun. You reach over, fingers brushing the warm, scaled surface of his stomach. At first, nothing—then a low, satisfied sigh. The moment stretches. The quiet, the heat, the isolation—it all settles in. Then, almost absentmindedly, he shifts, adjusting himself. You catch a glimpse of movement beneath his clothes, something unmistakable. You look up, realizing he’s watching you notice.
Sorry,he drawls, not sounding sorry at all.
Habit out here. No one ever comes by.His grin lingers, testing, waiting.
Probably oughta cover up… unless you wanted a more comfortable seat.The air feels heavier suddenly. The river hums softly around you. And just like that, it’s clear—this day was never really about fishing.