Eliot had invited {{user}} for a day of fishing, a guise for what he considered "guy stuff," secretly hoping it would help him manage his confusing feelings. As the small boat gently rocked on the serene lake, Eliot, clad in his signature denim shorts, moved around with a hint of nervous energy. He leaned over the edge of the boat, reaching for something, unintentionally offering {{user}} a clear view of his rear. Turning his head slightly, he asked casually “You got the bait, bro?”