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Keefe has slowly been bronzing over the last hour, and he now feels pretty certain that his back could cook an egg. Half of him is sorely tempted to join Biana and Linh in the ocean, finally cool back down, but the other half is reluctant to leave Fitz to hold their spot alone. People at this beach are ruthless. Last time they'd come, Biana's sunglasses had been stolen right out of her beach bag. So, continue to tan it is, even at the risk of sunburn.
He flips over and looks at Fitz, who is peacefully laying on the chaise lounge, reading a paperback and absorbing the warmth of the day. His hair is spun caramel under the sun, his nose practically statuesque.
This is the only time Keefe allows himself to stare. Fitz is distracted, and Keefe's sunglasses hide where he's looking anyway. No one notices how he drinks in these fleeting moments, when it's just the two of them, when Keefe can pretend it'll always be just the two of them. Lately, he's been thinking about it more often. Enough that it scares him.
Fitz puts his book down, and Keefe hurriedly returns to staring up the sky. It's very blue.
"Hey, Keefe, hand me the sunscreen? I think it's time to reapply."
"Sure." Of course Fitz remembers to reapply. Keefe is hit with an aching fondness, rummaging through their bag and handing him the bottle. "Wait, squeeze some out for me too."
"Yeah, here," Fitz says, before starting to rub the sunscreen into his unbelievably toned arms. He proceeds to his chest, then stops. "What are you looking at? Am I missing a spot?"
"Um, no." Keefe's face is definitely a flaming red. He begins slathering sunscreen on himself, focusing very hard on the task.
"When do you think we should head out?" Fitz asks, oblivious.
"I'm not in a rush."
"Okay. We'll just ask when Biana and Linh come back."
Keefe feels warm at we. "Yeah, sure."
"Wait, can you see them right now? What are they doing?"
"Uh," says Keefe, standing up. He scans the beach for their friends. "Oh, yeah, I see them. They're talking to a few guys... Oh, wait."
Fitz jolts up. "What is it?"
"Nothing. Just, one of the guys is putting his hand on Linh's arm. Huh."
"Oh gross, that other guy's definitely checking my sister out. Is he flexing?"
They both take a moment to stare.
"Um, Fitz?"
"What?"
"I'm pretty sure we're getting abandoned for the rest of the day."
"No, they wouldn't," Fitz says, sounding betrayed.
They most definitely would. Biana and Linh are walking now, flanked by the guys. One of them is confident enough to put his arm around Biana's back, and surprisingly, she doesn't push him away.
Keefe laughs, watching them stroll away. "I mean, can you blame them?"
"What do you mean?"
"Fitz, those guys are, like, really hot."
A long pause. Then, "You think they're hot?"
"Duh."
"I don't know," says Fitz. "They're kind of... well."
Keefe looks at his best friend in surprise. "Why do you sound sorta jealous?"
"I'm not."
"You are!" he says, delighted. "This is incredible."
"I'm not," Fitz says, turning to glower very intensely at the ocean. His side profile is remarkable.
"Don't worry, Fitzy," says Keefe, voice ever-so casual. "You're definitely hotter than those guys."
Fitz doesn't look back at him, but his face softens. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm serious!"
"Alright. If you met me on the beach, would you abandon your friends for me?"
"I'd abandon literally everything for you."
It was supposed to sound light, joking, but Keefe definitely messed up somewhere. His tone was too low, the type of voice you use for whispered conversations in crowded rooms, the type of voice reserved for things pulled from the heart.
Suddenly Fitz is looking at him, eyes wide. "Really?"
Keefe clears his throat awkwardly. "Of course... bro."
"Thanks." They stare at each other for a moment, then Fitz finally lays back down on the chaise, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you wanna go in the water, that's cool. I'll wait here."
"No, it's fine. I don't mind staying with you."
They drift back into silence, the caws of seagulls filling the air. Keefe eyes the bags the girls had brought, and decides they have another hour to get back before their belongings are left to fate. Fitz is reading his book again, eyes glued to the pages. He doesn't even register Keefe's eyes on him.
Keefe feels like a needy child, the way he craves Fitz's attention. He tries to focus on inner peace, hold himself back, but he's never been good at self-control.
"Hey, Fitzy," he says, taking a courageous swig of beer. "What would you do if we were the last people on Earth?"
Fitz looks at him, teal gaze like lightning to Keefe's senses. "What do you mean?"
"Like, what would you do?"
"Is this like, a zombie apocalypse situation?"
"No. Wait. Maybe?"
"Well, I'd probably start hoarding weapons."
"Okay, no apocalypse," Keefe decides. "It's just that we're the last people on Earth."
"Why?"
"Just because."
"Okay. Uh." Fitz's face scrunches in thought. "I guess we'd try to find food and shelter."
"It's not an apocalypse! We're perfectly safe!"
"Keefe, what are you asking?"
"Well, you know," fumbles Keefe, wishing that he'd tried to get Fitz's attention in literally any other way. "Like, if we were the last two people on Earth..."
"Then?"
"Would you date me?"
"What?" says Fitz. His book slides out of his hands.
"Come on! Would you?" presses Keefe, too embarrassed to back down now.
"That's a stupid question. I'm not answering that."
"No, you have to!"
Fitz picks his book back up and pretends to read it, but Keefe reaches over and snatches it out of his hands. "Hey! Keefe, what the fuck?"
"Answer the question!"
"Fine!" Fitz cries, grabbing at his book. "I guess so, yeah! I'd date you if we were the only two people left on Earth!"
"Only then?"
"Well, there wouldn't be any other options, would there?"
"You'd be so lucky," snarks Keefe.
"Oh, sorry for not throwing myself at you. I try to have self-respect."
"But you won't have self-respect when everyone else is dead?"
"The fuck? That's so morbid."
"Shut up," Keefe says, grabbing another beer and tossing one to Fitz too. They crack them open, taking sips at the same time to cool down. Eventually, he mutters, "I'd date you too, just so you know. If we were the only ones left on Earth."
"Thank you," Fitz says dryly.
"But, like. Why not now?"
"Huh?"
"You know," Keefe says, tracing circles in the sand with his foot. "Why wouldn't you date me now?"
Fitz starts laughing. "Um, because you're my best friend?"
"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to date your friends."
Fitz is laughing even harder now. It's actually quite insulting. "According to who?"
"I don't know!" says Keefe, frustrated. This is not going how he'd envisioned. "But don't you ever think about it?"
"Think about what?"
"About us! Like, if we were dating. What would it be like? Haven't you wondered?"
Fitz is still grinning, but it's nervous. "Have you?"
"Well, yeah! Sometimes." Keefe shrugs, again too casual. "I've wondered what it'd be like to date Sophie, Tam, Biana—"
"Ugh, not my sister—"
"Sorry! But seriously, you've never wondered about us?"
"Wait." Fitz's forehead furrows. "You've imagined dating Tam?"
"He's objectively really hot."
"He is?"
"Don't you remember that night we met him and Linh? I made out with him for, like, half an hour."
"You did?" Fitz's fingers flex, gripping the edge of his lounge chair. "You never told me that."
"Well," Keefe says, cheeks pink. "I thought maybe it'd be weird."
"Weird? How?"
"You always get awkward when I talk about dating stuff!"
"I do not," Fitz says, miffed.
"Okay, fine. Then answer my question without being awkward."
"Fine! What question?"
Keefe swallows. He tries to smile disarmingly. "Haven't you ever wondered about dating me? Like, ever?"
Fitz's book is folded, placed beside him. His posture is straight as a stick. "Yes."
"What?"
"Yes, I've thought about dating you."
Keefe blinks. "Oh."
"Was that so awkward?"
They're not meeting each other's eyes. Keefe pretends to read the sunscreen label, his voice sort of croaky. "Yes, actually."
"Fuck you." Fitz kicks at the sand, then announces, "I'm sick of laying here. Let's just go in the water."
"But our bags—"
Fitz stands up. "If someone's desperate enough to steal our towels, they probably really need them. We'll be right there anyway, close enough."
"Fine," Keefe says, crushing his beer can and tossing it on the chair as he follows Fitz, who is walking with far too much intensity for what was supposed to be a calm, lazy beach day. "Jeez, what's the rush?"
"I'm just hot," says Fitz, clipped.
They wade into the sea. Keefe hisses as the cold water hits his skin, swears he sees steam rising off his arms when he lifts them. Fitz pays no mind to his dramatics, submerging himself without a sound, then resurfacing with water dripping down every line of his body. Keefe shakes off the weird temptation to drag his tongue down the curving paths.
Fitz keeps floating forward, water inching up his neck until he's just a head bobbing in the ocean. As he stares out onto the horizon, Keefe takes his chance, diving below and yanking on Fitz's legs, pulling them both down.
Fitz yells underwater, bubbles streaming from his mouth, then kicking back up and sputtering, "What the fuck?"
Keefe's laughing too hard to speak.
Fitz scowls and starts splashing water into Keefe's face, a relentless torrent. Keefe screams and starts splashing back, but then Fitz leaps up and grabs him, a strange half-tackle that is mostly just very slippery. Keefe's brain short-circuits from all the physical contact. He's dunked under the water, over and over, before he regains control of his senses.
"Wait! Fine! You got me!" he yells, twisting away from Fitz's grasp and splashing a safe distance away. "Ugh, I'm totally soaked."
"You deserved that," Fitz says, triumphant, eyes bright.
"I think there's water in my lungs."
"Don't worry. I'm CPR certified."
"Of course you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Your hair's a complete disaster," Keefe tells him instead. The mass of wet waves stick straight up, haphazard. "Hold on."
He reaches out again, expecting Fitz to laugh at him, but Fitz just drops his head. Keefe tries to comb everything back in place, aching a little bit at how soft Fitz's hair is between his fingers.
"Okay, it's... better," he eventually says.
"Wanna see how your hair looks right now?"
"No."
Fitz smiles, wide. He kicks up so he's now floating, all of Keefe's hard work instantly messed up. Keefe groans but follows suit, letting the waves gently toss them back and forth. It would be peaceful, if Keefe's heart weren't beating at the speed of an Olympic sprinter.
"Hey," Fitz says, after a few minutes. "Would you rather date me or Tam?"
"What?"
"Like, you know... You've thought about it, right? Which one did you prefer imagining?"
"Wait, are you serious?" Keefe starts laughing.
"Yes? Shut up!"
"You can't be first in everything," he tells Fitz, flicking water at his face and hoping Fitz doesn't notice that he technically hasn't answered the question.
Fitz is quiet for a long moment. Then, with incredible sincerity, he asks, "Why haven't you asked him out?"
"What?" Keefe cries, breaking his float. "God, no!"
"I don't get it! Then why'd you choose him—"
"Fitz, chill out, I'd so much rather date you. Okay? Happy?" Keefe thinks a sunburn would be less painful than this.
"Oh," says Fitz, with a slight scoff. "You could've just said that."
"And what about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Out of all our friends, who would you most wanna date?"
"Wait, that isn't fair," complains Fitz. "You already chose me, so now I'm like, obligated to choose you back."
"Are you saying you wouldn't most wanna date me?"
"We would break up really quickly," Fitz informs him.
Keefe only feels a little bit crushed at that. "What? How do you know that?"
"You would ignore my texts and then call me out of nowhere—"
"There is literally nothing to support that."
"And you'd totally drop me in a trust fall—"
"I'm not evil!"
"And you'd laugh every time I'd try to kiss you—"
"I would not."
"You would!" Fitz points, accusing. "You're laughing right now, and I'm literally listing all the reasons I'd dump you!"
Even when Fitz's mouth is moving angrily, his lips are tempting as ever, full and pink. Keefe can't help staring. "Okay, you know what? Let's test it."
"What?"
"Test it!" Keefe cries, and now Fitz's gaze has dropped to his mouth too, and he can't help but prattle on, "Like, I'll kiss you right now, and it's gonna be the best fucking kiss you've ever experienced. And I won't laugh at all, and—"
"Okay."
"Huh?"
"I said, okay."
"Fitz, what—"
Keefe never finishes his sentence, because Fitz surges forward, cups his jaw and kisses him so hard they almost sink back underwater.
Oh.
Keefe jolts in surprise, immediately pulling Fitz closer, his fingers splayed at Fitz's bare waist as he kisses him deeper. It tastes overwhelmingly salty, and Keefe can smell the sunscreen Fitz had so precisely applied. It's driving him insane. His fingers find their way back in Fitz's hair, tangling in the dark strands, messing it up worse than ever.
Fitz is such a good kisser. Keefe used to resent the girls he'd dated in the past, but now he's thankful for all of them. His skin's on fire everywhere Fitz's fingers brush over, neck to chest to arms. They're bobbing in the water, a clumsy dance with the waves, fumbling to grab more of each other while also staying afloat.
Their bags could be getting stolen right now, and they would have no clue. Everything else is inconsequential. Keefe doesn't care about the seagulls cawing, the people screaming, the whistles blowing—
"QUIT THAT!"
They break away from each other with a start. Keefe turns to the sound, seeing a very exhausted lifeguard waving at them.
"NO EXCESSIVE PDA!"
"SORRY!" Keefe yells, offering a bashful smile. The lifeguard nods before trudging back to her post. He slowly turns to Fitz again, suddenly scared.
Fitz's skin glows with a new tan, his cheeks aflush. "You didn't laugh."
Keefe's body is acting like he's having a heart attack. "Dude," he breathes, unable to come up with anything more.
Fitz's smile grows with every moment Keefe stays speechless. "That good?"
"Fuck you."
"Just so you know," Fitz says, quickly, "I would definitely date you."
"I thought you wouldn't date your best friend," Keefe says, for some fucking reason.
"I'll make an exception. This time."
"You better."
They look at each other, smiles soft, faces warm.
Fitz floats closer. "Am I a better kisser than Tam?"
"Are you serious?" Keefe laughs.
"Just answer the question!"
Keefe grabs Fitz's waist, gently presses them back together. "Gotta test it again, just to be sure."
Biana's sunglasses get stolen, again, but it's probably worth it.