fic: you've had too much to think (now you need a wife); harper's island, henry/shane, r
you've had too much to think (now you need a wife), r
harper's island, shane/henry, 1222 words
missing scenes from 1.01, inspired by the photo and this song
written for gigglemonster
"Trish Wellington is marrying Henry Dunn."
At Jimmy's words, all the breath goes out of Shane. But he still manages to laugh, sticks his dirty knife deep in the belly of another catch, and makes a joke while Jimmy gets another bag of ice, the boat moving under their feet with the motion.
"For a guy who only came to the island in the summer he sure knew a lot about boats," Shane says, remembering that detail about Henry very clearly.
The conversation moves, and he's thankful for the opportunity to make fun of Jimmy and his inability to let go of Abby Mills, his hopefulness that maybe she'll remember what she once left behind.
"You're too nice," he tells Jimmy. The girl broke his heart, never said goodbye. There are some things that can't be forgiven.
But the truth is, maybe he isn't so different from Jimmy after all. Only difference is, he can't call Henry's name, tell him he's glad he's back, tell him he's been waiting for him. Even if all of those things might be true.
--
Shane remembers that last night of that last summer.
Henry's family had worked on the island every year for as long as he could remember. And this would be the last.
He rows out to the cabin where he and Henry spent a lot of their time during those long summers after Abby left. It's quite a hike from any of the island roads, even the overgrown trails. So they come here to get away from their hard days down at the docks, away from family, Henry's brother JD, and the expectations that they should hate each other too, just because JD and Shane have always been at odds.
Henry's there, like he knows he will be, and he's already got the flame going, with enough fish for two over the fire.
They drink two beers each, eat slowly, picking at their food, and hang their legs over the dock, talk about the future. Shane tells Henry for the last time that he's really thinking about going to college this year, and Henry laughs, throws his head back, open-mouthed. Shane just watches the water.
"You serious this time?" Henry asks after a beat.
"Nah, man." Shane admits. He knows better. "I'm just going to miss you." He thinks about Henry's college friends, how he told himself it was somehow okay because Henry always came back for the summer. But that's all ending now, and Henry will surely forget. And maybe Shane will too. That, he fears, most of all.
Henry shoves him, nearly tossing him into the water with the motion. Shane gives chase, and they end up dancing around the fire, kicking rocks and dirt as they go.
It's a familiar scenario. One that ends with them in the cabin, Shane's hard-on wrapped tight in Henry's hand, roaming lips and clumsy thrusts, until they're both sticky with come and out of breath, dizzy from the thrill.
Shane wakes that next morning and Henry's gone.
It's fall again.
And summer's not due for at least an age or two.
--
It's the first night back on Harper's Island and Henry's little brother has already gotten into a barroom brawl.
Henry watches JD storm off, waits for Abby inside the Candlewick, the sounds of the guests chattering from the other room, the smell of expensive catered food, all the things he would never have been able to afford without his bride-to-be.
Sully finds him in the lobby, clamps down on his shoulder. "What did you expect, man? JD's got a death wish, and from everything I know, Shane Pierce has always had an axe to grind."
Shane.
And somehow that explains everything.
He waits for Abby, convinces her that none of this is her fault, and heads to the Cannery.
--
Shane is throwing back another drink when Henry spots him, slams his glass against the table.
Henry's across the room in seconds, leaning with his hands pressed firmly on the wooden surface in front of Shane, his stance challenging.
"You wanna tell me what your beef with my brother is?" Henry says, as seriously as he can manage.
Shane stands, and Henry notices the tattoos, the breadth of his frame, and he doesn't remember them ever being quite this unmatched before. No, he doesn't remember that at all. It sends shivers down his spine for reasons he doesn't care to admit to himself.
"Oh, trust me, Dunn," Shane says, leaning in, his voice shifting to a whisper. "You don't want to have this conversation here."
--
Out in the parking lot, Henry follows Shane around to the side of the building.
As he turns the corner, he feels Shane's hands on him, shoving him against the cool wooden slats. He didn't expect the move, but he quickly turns to face Shane, his hands out, ready for another blow.
But Shane just scowls, moves close enough so that Henry can feel his heat, closes and opens his fists at his sides a few times before pressing both palms against the wall beside Henry, his breath rising in a puff of white between them.
Henry doesn't flinch. "Well?" he asks. But looking at the way Shane's eyes sweep over his body, taking in any subtle changes, pausing at the curve of his neck, and then his lips, Henry's pretty sure he knows what this is about.
"Your brother's a trouble-maker," Shane says, as if that explains it all.
"Look, whatever this thing is... was," Henry corrects, "between us. You can't take it out on my brother, even if he is an easy target."
"Was," Shane says, and his head drops toward the ground, his hands remaining at Henry's sides.
"Was," Henry confirms.
He opens his lips to say something else, but by that time Shane's mouth is covering his, his tongue slipping against the roof of Henry's mouth. He feels himself growing aroused at the sensation, feels Shane press against his hip, his cock hard through his jeans. Henry's hands go instinctively to Shane's face, stubbled skin and angled jaw. Shane reaches down, his hand sliding over Henry's hard-on. Henry can feel Shane grin triumphantly against his mouth. Shane lets the friction of his hand slack just enough for Henry to have to thrust his hips to meet Shane's fingers. Henry twists his fingers in Shane's hair and Shane strokes Henry through his jeans for another moment before he breaks the kiss, leaving Henry to groan in protest.
"Go back to Trish, Henry," Shane says, shaking his head as he walks backwards toward his truck.
--
Henry finds Trish in their room. She doesn't ask him where he's been, and she doesn't seem to notice that he's already hard when he pushes her onto the bed, fucks her like he hasn't in months.
She comes screaming, and Henry closes his eyes, thinks of Shane, and comes with her.
--
Back at his place, Shane kicks off his boots and rummages in the fridge for his usual nightcap. There's a picture stuck to the door behind a can opener magnet, a picture of him and Henry from that last summer, their arms around each other. They're smiling.
Shane closes his eyes, rubs the back of his neck, and laughs.
This should be a fun week, he thinks.
-fin