Chapter Text
“You’re staring.”
Ryan startles and fumbles his phone, dropping it right into the sand. One of his earbuds pops out and a frisson of rage ripples through him before he tamps it down—nothing like that irrational anger that comes with losing a headphone. Even so, he glares at Kaitlyn as he digs his phone out of the sand. He blows off the worst of it and resolves to do a deeper clean when they get home from the beach; for now, he pockets his phone again, not bothering to pop his earbud back in.
“No comment, huh?” Kaitlyn is smirking. She’s got a beer sweating in one hand and a joint burning idly in the other. The skunk scent is subtle, overshadowed by the salty sea and Jacob fucking around with the grill a few yards away. It should stink, but instead it’s weirdly comforting. “You do have it bad.”
Ryan scowls. “I’m not staring. What would I even be staring at?” He gestures to the ocean before them, devoid of life as it is. Not a boat in sight. They have this secluded corner of the beach all to themselves. It should be eerie, maybe, but Ryan just finds it soothing. Being surrounded by his friends, no pressures of camp and no threats of werewolves nipping at their necks. It’s…nice.
Ryan squawks as Kaitlyn’s hand grips his chin and pushes his head toward the left. Her beer presses against his cheek, cold enough to make him yelp a second time. She only laughs; she pulls back once she’s got him where she wants him—that is, looking at Dylan .
“The view isn’t half-bad, huh?”
Ryan doesn’t dignify her teasing with a response. He also doesn’t mention that yes, okay, he was staring, but not in a weird way. Dylan is his boyfriend; it’d be weirder not to stare, frankly. Abi and Emma are making eyes at each other in between rounds of volleyball and Jacob keeps burning burgers to get an eyeful of Kaitlyn in her bikini. It’s not like Ryan is creeping or anything. He’s just admiring.
“The watermelons are cute,” Kaitlyn murmurs before sipping her beer. She passes the joint to Ryan, and he absently takes it between his fingers, debating a hit. “Kinda short for guy’s swimming trunks, though.”
Ryan doesn’t comment, especially since she’s right yet again. Dylan had picked out the swim trunks on his own, promising Ryan a “special surprise.” The bright teal trunks covered in watermelons—whole ones, sliced ones, cubed ones—are a surprise all right. They barely reach his mid-thigh, and when they’re soaking wet (like right now) they leave devastatingly little to the imagination. There’s a reason Ryan hasn’t gotten up from the log he claimed, and it’s not just because he’s afraid of getting his phone wet.
Ryan startles again when Dylan abruptly turns away from the water and Nick; his gaze lands right on Kaitlyn and Ryan, and he gives them a broad grin coupled with an enthusiastic wave. Kaitlyn lifts her beer in some kind of cheers and Ryan curls his fingers in a weak acknowledgement. Even from a distance, Dylan’s eye roll speaks volumes.
“If you don’t smack his ass in those cute little shorts, I will,” Kaitlyn says before she plucks the joint from Ryan’s loose grip and wanders off. Ryan clenches his hand into a fist and drops his gaze to his lap.
He believes her, is the thing. They were close at camp, but in the year since the incident, they’ve all just gotten closer and closer. Dylan and Kaitlyn have a bond Ryan doesn’t even try to understand; he doesn’t mind it, but he does know it means they’ll both make good on threats like slapping each other’s asses or picking up the slack left by their respective boyfriends.
It’s not that Ryan’s embarrassed or anything. Except maybe he is, just a little. He and Dylan have been together the longest of anyone in the bunch, so it’s not like PDA is unexpected. It’s just that Ryan has never been an especially demonstrative person; it’s something Dylan knows and loves, and Ryan is grateful for that.
Yet, as Ryan watches Kaitlyn cozy up next to Jacob and plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek, and as he watches Emma whisper something in Abi’s ear that makes her flush as red as her hair, he feels…inadequate. Dylan is having fun with Nick, totally unbothered by Ryan’s internal crisis.
All he needs to do is stand up, go over there, and sweep his boyfriend into a kiss. Sure, their friends will tease them, but that’s half the fun. Emma will wolf-whistle. Jacob will make an uncomfortable joke. Nick will probably whine about being all on his own (even though they all know he prefers it that way).
Ryan shakes his hands as if he can shake out his nerves. Before he can stand, a blur streaks across his vision. For a moment, his heart rate skyrockets and he thinks werewolf, bear, wendigo . Then he realizes the blur is hot pink with choppy black hair and he thinks with a groan, Kaitlyn .
Her battle cry is the only warning Dylan gets before they both go down into the shallow water. Kaitlyn at least has the decency to not completely obliterate Dylan, tackling him in such a way that doesn’t draw attention to his missing limb. They crash into the water in a heap of limbs and heavy sand, and Ryan rolls his eyes.
His gaze snaps back to his friends when he hears a shout, only to see Dylan rubbing at his ass with a playful frown. Kaitlyn is saying something; Ryan’s palms start to sweat. Dylan looks over with a crooked grin.
Ryan swallows. Pre-emptively, he takes his phone from his pocket and winds the headphones around it before setting it aside. He watches as Dylan hops out of the water, dripping wet and muddy; Kaitlyn stays behind and laughs as Dylan makes his way across the beach to Ryan and the log he sits on.
“A little birdy told me you’re sitting over here pining, which is ridiculous since we are literally dating.”
Ryan can feel his cheeks pinking. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“You can always interrupt, babe.” Dylan reaches out and tugs at Ryan’s sleeve. “C’mon, the water’s perfect.”
“You’re dripping on me,” Ryan says dryly, “so I know for a fact that water is fucking freezing.”
“Exactly, it’s perfect.”
Ryan’s going to put up a final token protest, but a warm arm around his chest has him shouting instead. Gone is the log underneath his ass, and instead he’s left to flail as he’s hauled into the air, his kidnapper beelining for the ocean.
“Jacob!” Ryan shouts, thrashing to no avail. He’s put on some muscle since camp, but he’s still got nothing on his taller, bulkier friend. Jacob can’t be stopped short of, well, a literal werewolf. Before long the chill of the water is wafting toward them. Ryan grits his teeth and braces himself.
Except the chill never comes. After a beat, he opens his eyes and is only mildly mortified to realize he’s clinging to Jacob while the water splashes at his friend’s shins. Ryan scowls.
“You’re slipping,” Jacob tells him with a shit-eating grin.
“I hate you.”
“The sooner you get in the water, the sooner you can get out and I’ll warm you up!” Dylan’s promise comes from the log; he’s taken Ryan’s vacated seat and is already scrolling through his phone. No doubt he’s loading stupid shit into Ryan’s Spotify queue that will come on at the most inopportune moment possible.
Ryan looks forward to it. With one last glance at his boyfriend, looking damp and gleeful and still in those damn shorts, Ryan sighs. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then drops into the water. It’s not far to go, and the water is only up to his stomach, but it’s still fucking cold.
He doesn’t shout, though; he refuses to give his friends the satisfaction. Kaitlyn is laughing hard enough as it is. Ryan throws an arm out and splashes in her general direction, smirking when he gets a shriek for his troubles. Above him, Jacob is cackling, and that just won’t do.
Ryan brings his hand to the back of Jacob’s knee, pressing into the delicate skin and making his legs buckle. Jacob goes down like a sack of potatoes, howling all the while. Ryan’s still chuckling as he scrambles away to his feet, giving Kaitlyn a high-five as he passes.
Dripping wet and shivering so hard his teeth clatter, Ryan sets off toward his boyfriend. Dylan’s got his toes buried in the sand and a blinding smile on his face.
“So?”
“I’m hogging all the blankets tonight,” Ryan tells him, deadpan, “and I hope I catch a cold just so I can pass it to you.”
“Oh yeah?” Dylan leans in, eyelashes fluttering and lips flushed, inviting. “Sounds like a promise.”
Ryan leans in to kiss his boyfriend, swallowing the answering gasp. His head dunked under the water when he fell in, and Dylan’s lips are warm against his own. They immediately shuffle closer despite the log grating against their palms; their knees knock together, and Dylan tries to initiate a half-hearted game of footsie. All he really manages to do is smear wet sand all over Ryan’s shins.
“Get a room!” Nick hollers.
Ryan finally pulls back and flips him the bird. “I’ll kiss my boyfriend if I goddamn want to!” He’s shouting, but there’s no heat in his tone. He’s met with titters of laughter from the rest of the group.
“It’s very hot when you get into PDA,” Dylan tells him. He cups Ryan’s cheek; his calloused thumb is rough against Ryan’s skin. “You should do it more often.”
“You should wear shorts like this more often, and we’ll see where things go.” Ryan reaches out to tug at the hem. He lets his touch linger on one of the watermelons creeping along Dylan’s thigh.
“That can absolutely be arranged,” Dylan says with an emphatic nod. “I can be your kept boy. You want me in tiny shorts and nothing else? I’ll make it happen.”
Ryan groans. “I take it back, I take it all back, I’m going to date Jacob instead.”
“Bring it on, baby!” Jacob hollers before being promptly tackled into the water by Kaitlyn.