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Peeking out from beneath the covers, Ian noticed that Cal had been running, which would

explain why the dogs' paws were all wet, and why, when he leaned over Ian, all his bangs

dangled off his forehead, swinging toward Ian almost unnaturally in damp clumps, like Medusa's

snakes. All except for that one piece. Ian gritted his teeth and curled his lips under, even curled

his toes, but he couldn't resist. He reached up and brushed the strand loose so it dangled with the

rest, and immediately got a drip of sweat right in his eye. Yeah, good morning to him.

Cal took the hand Ian had raised and hoisted him to his feet while Ian blinked fiercely and

rubbed his burning eye with the heel of his other hand. Cal's footsteps got quieter, and then the

water in the bathroom ran for a second. He was back a moment later with a warm washcloth to

press over the stinging eye. He might have had to pry away Ian's hand while Ian whimpered and

keened like a little girl in order to get the cloth in place, but Ian was too traumatized, in theory if

not actuality, to remember clearly. Anyway, he'd deny it ever happened, so there was no point

even mentioning it.

The warm water felt so good, Ian reached up to grab the cloth himself and ended up holding it

and Cal's hand both. Cal didn't seem to mind. He did, however, seem to get tired of stooping

down, and plopped down on the bed. When they were eye to eye, Ian suddenly felt very sheepish

and released Cal's hand. He rolled his one open eye, feeling his face twitch into a smirk as it

blushed hot. "Uh, good morning. Had a nice run?"

Cal laughed, just a harsh exhale from his nose as the worry lines smoothed out. "Yeah, it was

great. Got back just in time to hear you try to beat down the bedroom wall with your head. What

the hell?"

Ian was puzzled for a second. Yeah, what was up with that? Then he remembered. He dropped

the cloth away from his eye and spun around on the bed, peering at the suspect fish bowl.

"Something moved," he said. "Over there." He pointed, the wet rag dangling from his hand, then realized his eye was still supposed to hurt and pressed it back to his face. "I rolled over, opened my eyes, and, yeesh!" He jumped back again as the familiar little ripple distorted the rainbows

on the wall. Luckily, Cal caught him before he went over backwards.

Cal's arms wrapped around his shoulders before he tipped, and Cal's mouth was in Ian's hair

when Cal said, "Oops."

Go Fish - 7

"Oops?" Ian, exasperated, made no move to sit up.

"I bought you a fish," Cal said. "Uh... surprise!"

"You...?" Ian tensed, suddenly realizing what a giant girl he must look like about then. In an attempt to remedy that, he dragged his knees up to his chest, tightened his whole body into a coil,

and heaved himself back with all his might.

Twisting as they both fell back into his pillows, Ian landed perched over Cal's chest and

straddled his hips before Cal could get a hold of himself. Ian grinned down at him, laughing at

the way Cal looked so completely surprised, his arms flung one to the side and one over his head,

his jaw slightly slack, chest heaving with the adrenaline rush. "Surprise yourself, jackass! I

thought a spider or something had fallen into the bowl!" Ian kept Cal pinned to the bed with one

hand on his sternum and whacked him over the head with a pillow. Twice for good measure.

And then three times, just because Ian could.

Cal started to move underneath him, and Ian braced himself, expecting to be bucked off and

slammed against the wall for the second time that morning. Instead, just Cal's belly moved, a

little rumble, then a roll, and then it was a whole lot like sitting on a trampoline while someone

else bounced. Only Ian wasn't sitting on the trampoline; he was straddling it, which did all sorts

of things to him that were totally gay.

Laughing right along, he rolled off the side and sprawled out on the pillowless side of the bed.

He'd been friends with Cal all his life. He'd lived down the block from him since pre-school.

Being around each other was a little like breathing vapors. Inhibitions fainted dead away. They

had the same propensity for 'losing' their swim trunks in Ian's family pool. They traded jerking-

off secrets when they hit puberty. They sometimes got drunk and passed out in very close

proximity to each other and in very sparse attire. Ambiguously gay was kinda part of their

relationship, even after Cal came out. .

When he jerked the pillow off Cal's face to cram under his neck, Cal's hair was all plastered over

his forehead and knotted up. Ian dropped the wet washcloth on it with a sploosh. "You're a jerk."

He laughed.

"And you're a giant, screaming girl."

Ian didn't have a comeback for that. Instead, they both just lay there staring at the ceiling and

catching their breath until it started to get awkward. "So, you bought me a fish. Why?"

"I dunno," Cal smirked. "If I tell you now, does it count as pillow talk?"

Ian thought on that for a minute, realizing just how wrung out the last few minutes had left him,

and said, "Yeah, I think maybe it does."

"All right, then," Cal rolled over on his side, his head on one arm. Ian tried to avert his eyes, but he couldn't, and ended up turning his head to meet Cal's gaze. He hoped he was just disoriented

Go Fish - 8

from the scuffle and that he wasn't so close his eyes were crossing, because Cal's face was all

soft and hazy-looking from that angle, and he wanted to keep looking.

Cal laughed and poked a finger between Ian's eyes, pushing him back a fraction of an inch until

Ian felt his eyes uncross.. "There, that's better."

"So, uh..." Ian had to clear his throat, because his voice had suddenly gotten all big and growly and wouldn't fit through it anymore. "Uh, you bought me a fish."

"Actually, I got two." And then the moment was gone. Cal kicked up and levered himself off the bed. He walked over to the fish bowl, picked it up, and moved it over to the bedside table beside

Ian's head. "I was in the pet store picking up those treats that Grant likes, and I remembered the

water in your fish bowl was turning all green."

"Was not," Ian protested.

"Dude, it's
still
green."

"That's not the water," Ian said. "It's the glass." He couldn't help making the 'like, duh!' face, even if it annoyed him to no end when someone else made it.

"That's scum, Ian. They have fish that eat that."

"Really? I'm actually growing food? That makes me what? A farmer, right? I'm a regular

environmentalist. Maybe I could sell it. One hundred percent organic... slime." He felt pretty

good about himself until Cal turned the bowl around, and he was eyeball to belly with what

looked like a frog that someone stepped on, ripped the legs off of, and then stuck to the side of

the glass. Grimacing, he said, "That's it? Cal, tell me you didn't pay money for that thing."

"I did," Cal shrugged. "It's called a plec… plecos... pl... It's called an algae eater. I know, a face only a mother can love, but the guy in the store said it'll keep the glass nice and squeaky clean.

And you know what that means?"

"No. What?"

Cal bounced and hitched his hip up on the side of the bed next to Ian. "Means you get to have

your rainbows, unicorn boy." The way he said it, Ian was pretty sure he'd have reached around

and pinched Ian's cheek if it weren't such an awkward angle. "And then, I read on the tank that

it's a companion fish. So, of course, I had to buy a companion."

Ian studied the second fish pretty indifferently. "It's a goldfish."

Cal's jaw dropped. "Ian, that is not just a goldfish. That is a veil-tailed oranda goldfish. The

fanciest one in the store."

Ian took a closer look to see what the big deal was about that fish, but he didn't see it.

Go Fish - 9

"It's just a baby," Cal explained. "The head cap doesn't grow until later."

"Head cap?" Ian chuckled. "Fish need caps now? Why don't they just swim south for the

winter?" He shifted to half sitting, his nose nearly pressed to the glass.

"It's considered exotic," Cal explained.

"Exotic, huh? So they're stripper fish. All they need are little G-strings." Even Ian knew it was one joke too many when Cal's face went slack.

"You hate 'em. I can tell." Cal pushed the bowl to the far edge of the table. "Look, I can just take

'em back. Or, better yet, I can get my own tank and take 'em to my room." He deflated a little, his hands resting on his knees, and slouched against Ian.

"No, dude, no, I do like 'em." He did. Actually, between the slow wiggle and shake of the

goldfish's tail and the warm weight of Cal's back against him, Ian could totally make fish

watching a hobby. "I'm just a little surprised. I mean, you're Mister Pound Puppy U.S.A., right?

All 'don't buy purebreds when the shelters are full,' and here you bring home the fancy, exotic

goldfish. Aren't you, like, worried you're funding goldfish mills somewhere? That there's some

poor goldfish mama in a teeny tiny tank, hooked up to aerators behind a bubble screen getting

her eggs squeezed out of her while some daddy fish is in the next bowl looking at centerfolds in

Big Lips and Fins
?"

It was Cal's turn to whack Ian with a pillow, which he did until Ian could feel his hair get all

staticky and crackly. "You're such a dick," Cal laughed. "I consider buying a fish from a pet store to be a rescue. Have you ever seen how many they scoop out of there when they open up in the

mornings? But, point taken. Next time I come across a no-kill shelter for goldfish, I'll be sure to

make a donation."

Ian shoved the pillow off his face, watching his hair follow it, every strand standing on his head

like caterpillar antennae. "That's what I like. A man who makes reparations."

Then he poked Cal in the shoulder with his index finger. It made a bigger spark than any Wint-o-

Green Lifesaver.

"Ow!"

"I win."

"Dick."

"Dick's going back to sleep."

"That kinda makes you a limp Dick, then."

Go Fish - 10

"And that's how it's gonna stay, unless you plan on growing some tits and becoming self-

lubricating." He realized he'd said too much within a nanosecond of shutting his mouth, so he

yawned to cover and shut his eyes. It was actually a lot harder to fall asleep than it would have

been a few minutes prior. Mostly because Cal was still there, sitting and watching the fish, and

Ian liked that arrangement way more than he should.

***

was way more to it than that.

Goldfish Fancy
magazine had begun showing up in their mailbox with Ian's name on the label,

but Ian was sure he'd remember if he had subscribed to a fish magazine. As far as he knew, he'd

never drunk dialed a phone, let alone drunk ordered a magazine subscription. He'd be sure to

blame Cal when the telemarketers started calling with special discounted rates available for a

limited time only.

Cal could even say Plecostomus now. And he did. Frequently. He was quite proud of the

Plecostomus. They named it Squiggy.

Ian wasn't sure if he should take it as an insult that Cal seemed to think he had to supervise Ian's

fish keeping. He at least gave Cal credit for trying to be discreet about offering his 'help.' Ian

used to sleep like the dead as far into the morning as he could get away with. Now he found

himself sliding into wakefulness earlier and earlier. First it was just to catch a glimpse of Cal

sneaking out of his room in the morning. Then it was in time to watch Cal stoop over the bowl

and make those little cooing noises he used only to make for his dogs. Lately, it was early

enough to catch Cal sneaking in, almost always sweaty and breathing hard from working out.

Of course, it only took so long to feed and check up on one fish and one really ugly poo eater,

which meant Ian needed more fish. Hence, this trip to the pet store.

"So, what kind of fish were you looking for?" Pet stores, he'd come to realize, were a little like comic book stores in that the employees tended to be somewhat... unique in their innate

geekiness. No offense intended to geeks. Everyone had a niche. Truth be told, Ian was a total

geek for Cal, but only in the way that Cal was his only gay friend, and spending time with him

was... educational. Honestly, though, how was it possible to have so much enthusiasm for critters

that just floated in the water, blew kisses at you, made you want to put your finger in the bowl

and tickle their little...? Oh, God, Ian was
not
becoming a fish geek.

He eyed the clerk, who looked barely old enough to get a job, pimply faced with braces and a big

smile that said she didn't really care about either. Even with the hardware, Ian knew a pretty

smile when he saw one. Too bad she seemed to have no clue. He checked out her name tag.

"Marcy?" he asked, extending his hand. She took it, and he wasn't surprised hers was sweaty and kind of cold. Clearing his throat, he stood up straight, determined not to let geek rub off on him if

at all possible. "Um, Marcy, I'd like a goldfish... a manly one."

Go Fish - 11

She looked downright puzzled, her lips trying to purse over her braces and only partially

succeeding. "A manly
goldfish
?"