numb3rsflashfic | Golf and Ice Cream by Spikedluv (Challenge #73: Golf)

Title: Golf and Ice Cream
Pairing/Characters: Don/Colby
Rating/Category: PG13/Slash
Word Count: 1620 words
Spoilers: Through 4.11 Breaking Point.
Summary: A celebratory lunch.
Notes/Warning: Large dose of schmoop. Part of the Two Men Series; follows Confession is Good For the Soul.
Written: September 27, 2008

Colby sat alone at the outdoor table at the restaurant they’d chosen for lunch, an awning protecting him from the sun while allowing the warm breeze to pass pleasantly over his skin, and a wrought iron fence separating the patio from the pedestrians passing by on the sidewalk. He’d been sipping the beer he’d ordered with relish, and watching for Charlie and Alan, but he’d fallen deep into thought, remembering the way Don had early that morning taken his mind off the first Eppes family get together since they’d told Alan about them last week, so he was startled when a hand settled on his shoulder.

Colby automatically straightened when he looked up into Alan’s worried eyes. “Mr. Eppes, Charlie. Alan,” Colby corrected himself before Alan could.

“Hey, Colby,” Charlie said, “you’re looking better.”

“I’m feeling better,” Colby admitted.

“We called to you, but you must not have heard us,” Alan said.

“Sorry, woolgathering,” Colby said, hoping the heat he felt rising in his cheeks wasn’t noticeable, but if Alan’s raised eyebrows and deadpan, “Must’ve been some wool,” were any indication, his hope was in vain.

He took another sip of beer in an attempt to hide behind the bottle as Charlie and Alan took their seats across from him.

“Beer?” Alan said, indicating the bottle.

“No more pain meds,” Colby said as he signaled to the waitress when he caught her eye, letting her know that the rest of their party had arrived.

Charlie and Alan placed their drink order with the waitress, then Charlie said, “Where’s Don?”

Before Colby could answer, Don was there, hand squeezing Colby’s shoulder as he slid into the chair beside him. “Hey, Dad, Charlie.”

“Hey, Donnie.”

“Don, hi.”

The waitress returned with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order. There was a flurry of activity as four menus were flipped open and skimmed. As soon as the waitress left with their order, Alan said, “So, what are we celebrating?”

“Colby’s not pregnant, is he?” Charlie asked, and Colby choked on his beer. “Because you really shouldn’t be drinking alcohol if you are,” Charlie directed at him, grinning evilly despite Colby’s glare as he wiped beer off his chin.

“Did we have to invite Charlie?” Colby asked Don.

“I didn’t invite him,” Don said, still trying to hold back a laugh, “he invited himself.”

“Amita scheduled a last minute student counseling session, so I suddenly had all this free time when Don called to invite Dad to lunch.”

“So,” Alan interrupted, “the celebration? Did you two decide to get married?”

“Dad, no!”

“Geeze,” Colby said, taking a long drag off his bottle, “the truth is going to be so anticlimactic after this.”

“Sorry,” Alan said. “It’s Charlie’s fault; he got me thinking on a grandiose scale.”

“Well,” Charlie said, “I suppose if Colby was pregnant they’d have to get married.”

This time Don choked on his beer. “Charlie!”

“What? I’m just saying.” Charlie grinned unrepentantly at Don.

“No, Colby is not pregnant, and we’re not getting married.”

The beer bottle the waitress was setting in front of Colby slipped from her fingers and clunked onto the table. “Sorry,” she said, the corners of her lips twitching.

“Jesus,” Don said after she’d set a second bottle in front of him and left them again, “I’m never going to be able to come back here.”

Charlie and Alan started laughing, and Colby suddenly thought the whole situation was hilarious and couldn’t hold back his own laughter. By the time they were done, Don had joined in, but he shook his head through his chuckles and said, “It’s not funny, you guys,” which just set them off again.

“Okay, so,” Alan said through his final chuckles, “what are we celebrating?”

Charlie snorted, but he managed to not relapse into laughter.

“We are celebrating,” Don said, “the fact that the doctor lifted the restriction against Colby exerting himself . . . .”

Charlie snorted again, then yelped when Don kicked him under the table.

“. . . and he goes back to work on Monday, even though it’s just desk duty for a while.”

“Congratulations, Colby,” Alan said, lifting his glass of green tea and somehow managing to ignore the bickering between Don and Charlie.

“Thank you,” Colby said, clinking the neck of his bottle to the rim of Alan’s glass.

“Yeah, Colby, congratulations!” Charlie said. “I’m sure Megan and David will be glad to see you, not the least because I have it on good authority that Don’s been a bear this past week.”

“I have not been a bear,” Don said, his expression giving away the fact that he knew he’d totally been a bear to deal with.

“That’s not what Megan said,” Colby teased and Don just looked at him, eyes soft even though he was trying to come across as gruff.

“I’m going to have to talk to Megan about team loyalty and misuse of FBI resources.”

“Megan?” Colby said, and Don had the grace to look sheepish.

Don had been able to spend a few days home with Colby, but he’d had to return to work this past week even though he’d rather have taken the time off, and he’d called Colby at least three times everyday to make sure he was all right.

Don gave Colby a look that told Colby that Don wished he could kiss him, and Colby felt his skin heat. Luckily their waitress returned then with their meals so attention turned to the food being set on the table rather than Don’s hand squeezing Colby’s thigh beneath it.

After everyone had napkins unfolded and forks in hand, and had taken the first bites of their meal, Alan said, “So what are you boys doing for the rest of the afternoon?”

“I’m going home with you,” Charlie said.

“I know that,” Alan said, rising to the bait. “I meant them.”

“Golf,” Don said, and Colby rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you guys join us?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve got something to do at home. Wash my hair, maybe.”

“Unless I decide that I want to play golf,” Alan teased.

“I knew I should have driven.”

Alan shot Colby a worried look. “Don’t you think that might be too much? I mean, I know your activities aren’t restricted anymore, but won’t you, I don’t know, pull something on the swing through?”

“I don’t think I need to worry about that,” Colby drawled, shooting a glare in Don’s direction.

“Where are you going?” Alan asked, though he didn’t look convinced.

“There’s a park just down the street,” Don said.

A moment of silence greeted that pronouncement and then Charlie said, “Isn’t that a miniature golf course?”

“Yeah,” Don said, grinning at Colby.

“Yeah,” Colby said, trying to sound disgusted, but unable to maintain it with Don looking at him like that.

“Oh for god’s sake, just do it!” Alan said.

“Do what?” Don said.

“Kiss him, or hug him, or whatever it is you want to do.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” Don said.

“What’s weird,” Alan said, “is watching the two of you trying not to touch each other. So just . . . do it and get it over with. Put us all out of our misery.”

Don chuckled nervously and looked at Colby. “I do, sort of, wanna kiss you,” he said.

Colby raised his eyebrows. “Sort of?”

“Sort of a lot,” Don admitted.

Don leaned in and kissed Colby, a brief closed mouth chaste kiss on the lips that made Colby’s jeans fit tight.

“Aww, that’s so sweet I think I just got a cavity,” Charlie muttered.

“Shut up, Chuck,” Don said at the same time Alan said, “Says the man who makes cow eyes at Amita all night long,” and Colby started laughing.

“Hey, Alan, how about you and I go play golf and leave these two chuckle heads on their own?”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Alan said. “They deserve each other.”

“Ouch,” Don said, sliding his arm along the back of Colby’s chair. “That hurts, Dad.”

“What hurts,” Colby said, “is you promising me golf and then delivering miniature golf.”

“I wonder if I could win at miniature golf,” Charlie mused. “How’s it different from regular golf?”

“Well, the clubs are smaller,” Don said, setting off Colby and Alan and earning a glare from Charlie.

“And they have an ice cream stand,” Colby said.

“How do you know?”

“I didn’t say I’d never played before, just that it wasn’t what I expected when you said we could play golf.”

“The stand where they make the homemade ice cream?” Alan said. “Oh, I’m in. Your mother used to love trying out the different homemade flavors. Her favorite was . . . .”

“Cherry ripple,” Don and Charlie both said.

“Yeah.” Alan nodded, then he looked at Don, and then Charlie, then said, “I wish your mother were here. She’d be so happy. For both of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Don said softly.

“I suppose we should really be thanking Colby and Amita for putting up with the two of you,” Alan said.

Grinning, Don and Charlie lifted their bottle and glass respectively and clinked them together. “To Colby and Amita,” Don said. He took a sip of his beer, then turned to Colby and kissed him.

“Thank you,” Don whispered, and Colby felt himself fall in love with Don all over again.

“I should be thanking you,” Colby said, but the moment was interrupted by Alan leaning over and whispering loudly to Charlie, “I see what you mean about the cavity.”

Don ignored them and said, “So, how about a round of miniature golf, and then I’ll buy you some ice cream?”

“Sounds good,” Colby said, and he found he actually meant it.

The End