Chapter Text
In Arvid’s bright blue childhood bedroom, between his VCARB poster and his Tony Hawk signed picture, there is a desk, cluttered with study materials, work, and pens. Like most good desks, right above it, there is also a window.
The window itself is not special; it’s framed with dark wood, has a sill where he displays his LEGO creations, and holds a multitude of half-drunk cups of chai. In the springtime, jasmine curls itself around the top of the glass and brings the smell inside, and in the wintertime, when it rains, the droplets run beautifully down the panes. However, the real appeal to the window is the view outside.
This window faces the beach, which happens to be Arvid’s favourite place in the entire world. In the summer, or really any time he can find an excuse to distract himself from his studies, Arvid will lean forwards and crane his neck until he is just able to spot the glittering gold of the sand dunes and muted green of the beach grasses. When he works, the merry jingle of ice cream vans and the cheers of children worm into the room, and the unending blue skies pour over his desk, teasing him with what is only ten minutes’ walk away.
When he finally wraps up his work, usually much faster when the promise of the ocean is right there, he rushes outside, exactly as he is doing now.
Ollie’s crackly voice is blaring from his phone, resting on his desk as Arvid yanks his trainers on.
“I’m coming, mate, just- gimme five.” He grumbles, lacing them up tightly.
“You skating?” That’s Kimi, probably leant over Ollie’s shoulder. The pair are already there, have been for half an hour, along with Isack, Franco, and Gabi. Jack hasn’t made an appearance yet, but according to Pierre, Jack’s classmate, the professor gave him extra to do as always.
“Briatore just hates him.” Kimi complains as Arvid snatches up his board and hurtles downstairs, nearly slamming into the wall. His Airpods can’t connect fast enough as he kisses his mum on the cheek and legs it outside, into the glorious June sunshine, and pegs it round the corner to skate down to the beach.
When he arrives, blinking dry sand from his eyes and carrying his board over the dunes, there’s a great cheer from his mates a few hundred metres down, a different spot than usual. He jogs over, already grinning, and lets himself get dragged down onto the blanket.
“There he is!” Franco yells in his accented English.
They’re a very multinational group, Arvid thinks; Kimi from Italy, Franco from Argentina, Isack from French Algeria, Gabi Brazilian, Ollie and himself from England, though he supposes he also counts for India and Sweden too. Even the absent Jack is Australian.
“The elementary school mums stole our usual spot.” Kimi grumbles, licking his Mr Whippy with a vengeance. “So now we aren’t close by the skatepark.”
“It’s still walking distance.” Gabi argues. His own board, bright green beneath, is resting at the edge of the picnic blanket with Isack and Franco’s.
They spend a decent half hour chatting and watching the parasurfers glide over the water like swans, occasionally yelling out for them to fall. A smug Gabi has completed all his work for the summer already, Franco being dead behind, and Isack’s managed to break the website for work on his laptop, and is waiting on the university’s tech team to sort it for him.
“It is convenient.” He shrugs. “I have an excuse to do nothing for a while.”
For Arvid, the real appeal of the beach isn’t necessarily the weather, or the cheap food stands, or even the ability to launch your friends off the pier; it’s the skatepark. A gigantic concrete maze, with difficulty ranging from flat for beginners just learning to balance all the way up to pro-level stunt opportunities. It’s been a staple in Arvid’s summers since he was eight years old and had just picked up a board for the first time, and he’d trade it for nothing.
There are a couple of younger kids there today, mostly sticking to the flat bits or the baby hills. A few familiar faces are whizzing about, including Charles and Max, racing the circuit with fervour written on their faces.
Arvid sticks to the basics for the most part today, lapping the park a few times, making his way around a few ramps and impressing the little kids with a varial kickflip to avoid being smacked over by Charles.
Gabi messes around on the half-pipe, pissing off the scooters, but none of them care too much about them; it’s a ‘skate’ park after all, as they love to point out. Isack just riffs and tricks off the rails for an hour or so solid, and Franco doesn’t even skate, just chats up the girls with his easy charm and good looks.
After a while, Arvid skates off down the boardwalk, making a beeline for the end of the pier. He weaves through the families and teens making a ruckus and gets himself a ’99 Flake, which costs him a hell of a lot more than 99p, and stands leaning on the railing, surveying the water.
The surfers are out, laughing their arses off as they catch beautiful wave after beautiful wave. He doesn’t know many of them personally, other than Carlos and Nico (who Gabi is unrequitedly weird about), but he’s watched them eat shit enough that he can recognise regulars.
Today, there’s a new one; so far just a mop of blonde hair and tan skin laying over a baby blue board. He’s facing away from Arvid, so he can’t make out his face, but he takes a pause to rake his eyes over the expanse of muscled back this surfer has. When he stands, riding a stunning wave with ease, Arvid catches a glimpse of the silver necklaces around his neck, sparkling like the waves in the sun.
He’s about to head back to the skatepark when he sees the man look up at him, a brief glance that turns into a double-take, and now he can see just how gorgeous this guy is. He’s all strong jaw and mouth made for a grin, lovely eyelashes, almost like a girl’s, and all over he’s freckled from sun exposure.
Arvid gives a jaunty little wave when the guy doesn’t look away. He seems to splutter a little and gives a shy wave back, immediately being swamped by the wave he was about to catch before he was distracted by his skateboarding observer, dropping into the churning blue water as the foam crashes over him.
Arvid waits around just long enough to see blonde hair pop back up above the water, wiping ocean from his eyes and quickly preventing his board from floating away. He turns away before the unknown surfer can find him by the railing again, skating back to the boardwalk with a smile playing over his lips and replaying the way the man had stared. He might even say it was awestruck if his ego was a little bigger.
When he returns, Gabi is yet again salivating over the shirtless Nico, surfing away in the distance with the mystery blonde. Ollie and Kimi have disappeared off to grab hotdogs for everyone and a burger for Isack. Franco and Jack are talking animatedly, and Isack himself has snuck off to creep on the beachside kart track owner, Lewis. Jack has finally arrived, looking harrowed.
“What’s got you looking like that?” Jack asks as Arvid approaches.
“I got to watch a surfer eat shit. It’s a beautiful day to be alive.” He informs him, flopping down on the mat and ditching his board with the others, stealing Ollie’s discarded sunglasses to stare off at the water.
“Understandable.” Franco says, immediately reabsorbing himself in his conversation.
Ollie returns with the food, Kimi a little later laden with drinks, and someone manages to drag Isack away from Lewis. They scarf down their food together, and Arvid finds himself watching the area where he saw the surfer even without thinking about it; at least he’s not Gabi, blatantly staring at Nico’s abs even from this distance.
The blonde does appear in his view a few more times, and he swears he also sees him look back up at the pier every so often as he passes by it. It does a weird thing to Arvid’s chest that he chooses to call an ego boost.
They stay until sunset, walking each other to their various houses all across town, and when Arvid collapses into bed around eleven p.m, it’s with a smile on his face and a surfer on his mind, the sound of crashing waves and gulls playing as if from a speaker through his window.