Arden grabbed hold of his forearms even as he swayed closer. “Noooo.”
Beckett laughed. “All right, all right. I won’t do it again.”
“Promise?” Arden smiled up at him.
Beckett’s laughter faded and his voice was heavy with meaning when he said, slowly, “Yes, Arden. I promise.”
To break the unsettling tension, Arden boldly popped up onto his toes and pressed a quick kiss to Beckett’s warm neck. He’d been aiming for his mouth, but he was standing on adownward slope and couldn’t quite make it. He dropped flat, took hold of Beckett’s hand, and resumed tugging him towards the water. “So how did you really catch the trout?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder and giving another encouraging tug.
“Tickled it,” Beckett said. “Told you.”
Arden rolled his eyes for Beckett to see.
“You never heard of trout tickling?”
“No. You’re making fun of me.”
“Am not. You telling me you never went down to the river with your friends?”
Arden glanced away, blushing. “No, Jack was more Lassit’s friend than mine. And we didn’t have a river at Dalbryn. We had a lake.”
“Got a couple of those here too, as well as this river, a little one that goes through the forest over there, and plenty of streams besides. But this river’s the best for trout tickling. And what you do is, you go walking along the riverbank, and you keep an eye out for a nice shady overhang, a ledge or a rock where a trout might be resting.”
Beckett turned them to follow the direction of the current.
“Mm-hmm,” Arden said.
“And you settle yourself down on the bank, nice and quiet, somewhere comfortable. Somewhere you don’t mind settling for a while. It can take time, you see.” He stopped walking, and drew Arden down to the grass with him.
“Have you spotted one?” Arden whispered.
“No,” he whispered back. “But if I had…”
“What? What would you do?”
Beckett contemplated him, then made a soft sound. He reached out and pushed Arden gently backwards.
Arden fell to his elbows. When Beckett continued to exert gentle pressure, he lay flat.
Beckett’s shadow fell over him. “You’re the trout,” he said with a flicker of amusement.
Arden stared at him, heart pounding. Then he sucked his cheeks in and pursed his lips like a fish.
Beckett blinked and burst out laughing. “Mm. Prettiest fish I’ve ever seen.” He knelt down and cupped Arden’s jaw, squeezing gently to exaggerate the pout. “Now. Tickling a pretty little trout like you isn’t the same as tickling a pretty little omega.”
“No?” Arden’s lips were buzzing. Sadly, just from his silliness and not from being kissed.
Beckett shook his dark head. “No. It’s more stroking than tickling. Point isn’t to make it squeal.”
Arden scowled. “I don’t squeal.”
Beckett smiled and slowly, watching for Arden’s reaction, rested his hand on one of his thighs. At Arden’s emphatic nod, he let his index finger drift up over Arden’s groin, and?—
He snorted.
Arden had curled up at once, his stomach shivering and his breath catching.
Beckett waited for him to straighten himself out before trying again. “See, it’s a gentle touch to lull them, like this, and?—”
