Alliance Atlantis owns the characters and concepts of due South, created by Paul Haggis. No profit or copyright infringement was intended.
a 'missing' scene from Wilby Wonderful
He knew the sound of the water, the suck and pull of the waves on the shingle
filled his dreams, filled the rhythm of his dick when he was hard. He knew the
slip and crunch of gravel under his boots. Duck didn't know the stark yellow
strip of police tape.
He stared at it for a moment, imagining Buddy putting it up maybe, or Stan,
then ducked under it. The hard uncertainty of lose rock gave way to the crush
of loam and the sea and pine smell under the trees. He knew this; he'd known
this for years.
There was no one else here. That was different too and Duck wondered how long
this place would stay deserted, how long it would take before the police tape
frayed in the salt air and the stories and the rumors and the shame broke up
like fog. Until the next scandal, he figured, whenever that happened. But, whatever
happened, he knew that it would never be the same here, the men would never
come back to theWatch like they had before.
Damp sea air touched the back of his neck and Duck slipped around to the lee
side of a tree, into the familiar shadows. He knew how to do that - he even
knew this tree. He'd leaned against it before, like this, and waited for someone
to speak to him, to touch him. He'd knelt at the base of it before and felt
a man's hand hard in his hair, pulling him close. The roots always dug at his
knees but he didn't mind that, sometimes he liked that, just like he liked the
salt smell of the sea mixed with the musk smell of sex.
He knew a lot of things, like he knew all of the men who came here - used to
come here - just like they knew him. When the police had come, he'd known Stan
when the man dragged him stumbling and fighting with his zipper, out of the
shelter of the Watch. He'd known all the other men, pale and frightened as they'd
been taken to the police station, arrested, fined and released. Duck didn't
know if he'd have any business left when paper came out next week. He knew Dan.
He knew the cradle of Dan's fingers in his hair and the long way he leaned
against the trees in the darkness. He knew that Dan liked to be sucked, that
he always hurried things too fast, that when Duck came in his hand his breath
would catch as if he wanted to do something more. He knew the velvet weight
of Dan's dick in his mouth, he knew the taste of him just before he came and
Duck had to pull away even though he didn't want to. Duck knew how to be safe
and still get what he wanted.
He didn't know what Dan's mouth tasted like. He didn't know what it was like
to kiss him. He didn't know where Dan had been born - somewhere out there, out
in the mainland, somewhere not here - he didn't know who Dan's parents were
or why he'd had come to Wilby. Duck knew it wasn't for him.
Duck didn't know what it would be like to be naked with Dan, to lie in a bed with him, to eat a meal with him. He didn't know if Dan wanted to know any of this, if he wanted to know Duck but Duck had a cowboy shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons and there were flowers blooming next to his truck. He knew he wanted Dan.