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Christian’s brain has never been silent; he thought everyone else’s was the same. Sure, it was naive, but maybe he was just afraid to classify himself as anxious. He’d been told all his life he should have nothing to worry about: he’s a genius with a bright future ahead of him. But isn’t that all the more reason to be concerned? Sure, he’s 41 and settled down, but that doesn’t mean he can drop his guard. There’s an infinite stretch of possibilities laid out in front of him.
Except he forgot to ponder the possibility that he falls in love with Rick Devens.
Look: he’s always known he’s queer. It wasn’t hard to accept, given he’s so-called ‘different’ compared to his peers as it stands.
But Rick Devens? The coolest guy—okay, Ozzy’s here, but still—on this beach?
Christian shivers into himself as the wind blows further, and he breathes into his hands. He sits up and examines his surroundings: everyone's quiet. Asleep. They don't have a constant stream of consciousness like you, Christian.He crawls over to the fire, careful not to wake anyone up, and basks in its heat. It’s sort of poetic the way it mirrors how his heart started bursting when Devens landed on the beach. He turns to the hammock, where the man’s fully sprawled out. Clearly, someone’s warm. And that’s exciting, considering Christian’s freezing his ass off. The fire lights Rick’s face, chiseling his cheekbones a bit—well, maybe that’s the whole “not eating” thing. But it’s still beautiful; Christian can recognize that.
Maybe he should try to walk this off? It's not exactly the most socially acceptable to walk up to the guy, wake him up from his perfectly peaceful slumber, and ask, "can you warm me up?"
He makes his way to his feet, and of course, a twig snaps under his foot. Now everyone’s gonna wake up, and I’m gonna be the asshole. Dang it.
“Christian.” A voice mumbles from his left, and he snaps his head to see Devens’s eyes open. “Why’re you up?”
“Can’t sleep.” He replies simply, trying to keep his cool, but the metaphorical butterflies in his stomach make speaking coherent thoughts rather challenging. Rick waves his hand, beckoning him over. So, albeit slightly reluctant, he comes. The bigger man scoots over on the hammock, leaving room for Christian to slide in next to him.
“You’re cold.” Devens remarks when he wraps an arm around his shoulders and feels the skin on his neck.
“Freezing, actually.” Christian whispers. He can feel his own hands trembling, except this time, he can’t determine if it’s because he’s cold, or because Rick Devens is holding him. A part of him wants to believe it’s the second option.
“Here—lay down.” He insists, his hand drifting down to the middle of Christian's back as if guiding him to rest.
“Rick, people are gonna-“
“Sav is literally sandwiched between Joe and Ozzy. She’s holding their hands.” Devens laughs under his breath, trying to stay quiet. Christian nods in acknowledgement and turns onto his side, laying his head down on Rick’s chest. He can't let his panic, his racing thoughts, his self-consciousness ruin such a perfectly good moment. “There y’go.” Almost naturally, Rick’s other hand falls to Christian’s waist to keep him in place. The latter’s convinced he’s going to explode, and he’s certain that Devens can feel his heart racing.
“Thank you,” is all he can manage to say, murmuring into Rick’s blue t-shirt.
“Of course, love. Sleep.”
Christian’s gonna pretend like he didn’t just hear that. He closes his eyes, gently nuzzling into the man under him, and actively starts to slow his breathing. Soon enough, he forgets about all the people sleeping around him; the game they're playing completely slips his mind. When he wakes up tomorrow, he'll realize his brain's never been able to shut off quite like this. He'll determine that it's all because of Rick Devens.
RICK
The sun comes up faster than Rick wishes it did. It wakes him up; he didn’t sleep with his buff over his face last night… for a good reason. He had someone to look at. His favorite someone to look at: Christian.
And he was still there. He wasn’t going. At least, not as long as Rick could help it. God, when they get outta here, he’ll stay in his arms forever. All day. No more robotics.
But Rick isn’t stupid. People will notice and catch on if they’re not careful. Though since no one’s awake yet, they have a chance to be slick here.
“Christian…” Rick whispers, pressing his face into the man’s messy hair and twisting the pieces at the nape of his neck. “C’mon. Up.” He slides his hand under Christian’s sweater to feel the still-cool skin underneath. The man’s breathing quickens as he wakes, and his eyes go wide when he realizes where he is. Makes Rick laugh every time.
“Oh. Right. Hello.” He twists almost fully onto his stomach and rests his chin on his peck.
“Hi.” Rick smiles, sliding his thumb across Christian’s temple. Sure, he’s being a little touchy, but he’s encouraged by the way a blush covers his face and he doesn’t wiggle away. Except now, he has to. “Hey, we’ll… we’ll do this again later, k?” That's the most adequate way for him to put it. Or maybe the most normal way to put it without seeming so, incredibly head over heels like he is on the inside.
“Yes. Yes.” He’s never heard Christian say so few words. “I’ll move now.” Rick winces at the chill when Christian rolls off of him to stand.
“Parting is such sweet sorrow!” He exclaims dramatically.
“Oh? You know Shakespeare, now?”
“Of course I know Shakespeare, Christian. I’m not a dunce.” Rick laughs.
“If you were a dunce, I wouldn’t be so madly enthralled with you,” Christian reaches back out to tousle Rick’s hair. He feels like a high schooler again; the one who was waiting for the perfect guy to come along so he could finally accept himself.
“Your charm astounds me.” Rick sneaks two fingers through Christian’s belt loops, and just as quickly lets him go as the others begin to shift.
“I should’ve known you two wouldn’t know how to be quiet.” Emily groans from the shelter, throwing an arm over her face.
“Sorry, bro.” Rick shrugs casually. He walks Christian walk off, but not before smiling over his shoulder. It’s unfair how adorable he is—it’s unfair, but so rewarding. Rick curls back into himself in the hammock, turning over to watch the waves gently crash against the shore. Minus all the hiding and secrecy… he could get used to this.