#i have had this sitty 80 per cent finished on my computer for a eghty six years

[captainsuke]

last days of summer

The summer Adrian breaks his collarbone sucks. He's out of the water, off his board most of July, all of August, and when school comes back it somehow manages to suck just that little bit more. He's been out in the water a couple of times since it started healing, but the rotating motion of paddling on his surfboard makes it feel like he's grinding glass between his bones; the doctor says it'll get better, stop hurting and have full range of motion, but right now it feels like its taking f o r e v e r.

Deran's already out on the waves by the time Adrian makes his way to the beach. Schools not usually so tedious but between his arm in a sling and the ache and itch of bones healing, the classroom had been unbearable by the time the final bell had rung.

The beach is quiet for once, in the golden time between adults getting off work and tourists turning in for the day as the wind picks up and the day gets less idyllic, he spots one of the Cody's communal blue towels with Deran's rucksack half underneath it like he'd dropped them both carelessly in his rush to be in the water, and Adrian settles down comfortably in the sand next to Deran's stuff, tries not feel too weird watching the surfers alone.

Deran's always a fucking sight to see when he's surfing, all sharp moves and smooth confidence, cutting through waves like they only raised up for him. Adrian gives up pretending to be only half paying attention, leans forward as he watches Deran paddle for a wave, ride it up to the rail and bail out.

For a brief moment Adrian's fingers stop itching for a board beneath them and he starts wishing he had a camera instead. Deran always looks so laid back and cool on a wave, he wants to capture that moment, wants to be able to look back at it when things are less than calm.

Deran's up again, catching another wave that looks like it's going to hold up well for him. His legs pump, pushing for more speed, cutting along the bottom of the wave, skirting the edge of white as he pushes past the breaking wave to the wall of it. He's going fast as carves across, up to the lip and into the air.

Board and boy flip up, a hand grabbing the edge of the board as he brings it round and they come back down into the white water. For a moment it looks like he's going to stick the landing, a flash of white teeth as he grins prematurely and then he disappears into the wave, board shooting out before catching on the lead and Deran's dumped ass drags it back. He still looks happy as he gets back onto his board a paddles back out, and Adrian flops back down in the sand.

He thinks sometimes, if Smurf hadn't been Deran's mom, if Deran had been anyone else but a Cody, it would have been Deran Nico had taught to stand on a board at two. He was just as good as Adrian, even if he spent more time fucking around instead of working on technique.

Deran's got an ego, Adrian knows this, he's not blind to Dean's faults like some lovesick puppy. But his ego is somehow more tied to who his family is - his place in said family – like he's constantly try prove his worth while not being able to tell if he has any beyond what he can do for people. Adrian still remembers when he first started competing seriously, when he'd begged Deran to come along. He'd looked up at Adrian with this look, lip between his teeth, half grinning, half squinting at Adrian like he expected Adrian to start laughing and say he was totally joking. Eventually, when Adrian hadn't done any of that because he was Totally Serious, Deran had just shrugged, shoulders going high as he looked away. He'd been half glaring when he looked back, like Adrian not living up to Deran's expectations of cruel mockery was something he should apologize for.

It had surprised Adrian at the time, that for all Deran's crowing about his supposed surfing prowess, he didn't believe Adrian was serious.

Adrian thinks he had finally broke the stalemate by shrugging and saying something like 'I just think you'd kick ass man, show all the old fucks up,' something that was nice – but not too nice – that had him blushing. And even back then, when Adrian's feelings for Deran had been a more ambiguous need to spend all his time with Deran. Because they were friends. Back when he didn't even dream they could be where they are now, that Deran would ever look at Adrian and feel something similar. Even back then Adrian still liked making him blush that pleased pink.

Something wet brushes against his leg startling Adrian out of his thoughts.

He opens his eyes and Deran's standing over him, toeing at his legs with wet feet, flicking sand as he moves.

“What's got you looking like a sad fuck?” He asks, chin lifting as if ready to fight whatever Adrian points him at.

“Just thinking,” is the only reply Adrian can think of. Deran might like to fight just about everything, but even he can't fight stupid melancholy thoughts, or the way how some things Just Are.

“Jesus Christ, don't do that.” Deran says with a laugh and he lays his surfboard down beside Adrian and starts stripping the top half of his wetsuit off, shoving it down to skinny hips.

These last summer months - between competing, surfing and skating til they collapsed from exhaustion – had given Deran abs that made Adrian want to punch god. He fumbles around Deran's rucksack for Deran's pot stash - he's always got some weed on him somewhere – just to pull his eyes away from where he's definitely staring. Deran drops down beside him ad takes the freshly rolled joint when Adrian offers it out.

Later when Deran's high and loose limbed in a way he rarely was these days, he takes another deep drag of the joint and leans in close, Adrian opens his mouth and takes in the breath of smoke that Deran exhales. Deran's face suddenly feels too close to his, eyes searching Adrian's as he mutters best part of the ocean then flops down on the sand; stretching before collapsing boneless and self-satisfied.

Adrian lowers himself down beside him, close but not so close.

He doesn't have to worry, in this state Deran just turns on his side, head pillowed on an elbow, leaning his way into Adrian's space.

As long as no one who mattered came along, they can stay like this for what seems like hours, just shooting the shit and enjoying each others company. Sometimes Adrian hated the constant push and pull of what Deran would allow one moment, but wouldn't the next, and sometimes he felt pride that he could read him, that out of anyone he could navigate Deran's choppy waters with relative ease.

Deran's someone else when they're by themselves, like an older more intense version of the ten year old he used to be. All confident swagger and quiet almost shy hope.

“What's the best part of the ocean?” He asks lazily. It doesn't matter, or it did but only in so much that he likes to hear about the things Deran's passionate about. He likes the way Deran speaks when Adrian's managed to thread the conversation past the pitfalls of Deran feeling self conscious and embarrassed for liking things.

Deran's eyes slide closed, a slow smile dawning across his face as he rolls back to face the sky.

“You know, when the ocean's gone all flat? And you need a big one? Just one good set?”

Adrian closes his eyes, can almost feel himself in the ocean, bobbing on boards waiting for something to come in. It's different when you're not competing when there's no clock counting down, when picking the wrong wave didn't mean losing the entire thing.

“Then the whistle comes out from the crowd?” The eye closest to Adrian slips open, a bare sliver as he looks across at Adrian. “And you look out and there's that dark band? And it's coming and you just know it's gonna be a good one.”

Deran rolls back to face him, Adrian offers him the last of the blunt, but he shakes his head, watches Adrian with intensity that makes him shift in the sand. Deran doesn't keep eye contact like this, not in in public. But he is now, staring at Adrian like he was memorizing him.

“Your eyes are a really fucking blue.” He says finally, and oh.

Adrian has no idea what to do with compliments.

Deran's eyes close, releasing Adrian from his stare, and between the lazy smile on his face and the heated look Deran's carrying in his eyes, Adrian has to physically hold himself still, to not just throw himself at the other boy, has to settle with heat on his cheeks at Deran talking about him, saying sweet things about him.

Adrian pulls himself to sitting, drags his knees up and awkwardly drapes his slinged arm over them. Takes the last pull from the joint himself and holds it in his lungs til it feels they might burst. Deran's eyes stay closed, his breathing even and Adrian knows if he lets them stay too long, Deran will definitely fall asleep.

He lets the smoke go, blows it out to be caught by the wind and taken away.

Maybe they could stay here for awhile yet.

on a03