Work Text:
"the sun / kissing me with its golden mouth all the way" —I don't want to live a small life, poem by Mary Oliver
You're lying on a towel on the sand, relaxed and sunbathing, sunglasses on. The day is perfectly clear: it's been a while since you've been to the beach, and you wanted to take advantage of the weather, since it had been raining for so long, and things seem to be coming back to life. The sunscreen feels great on your skin, and you can start to see a light tan.
You hear the waves in the distance, their gentle sound mingling with the conversations and laughter of other people. The beach is crowded. There are several surfers riding the wild ocean, but there's one in particular walking in your direction, the one you've been waiting for. He usually comes around this hour.
About time.
You lower your sunglasses to look at him. It's Dave, wearing only swim trunks, holding a surfboard, walking with his head held high and his gaze fixed on you. He sits down next to you.
"Hey, siren," he says; but you know he's just playing around, he's the only sea creature here. You knew it from the moment you peeked out onto the beach late at night and saw him in the water, wearing a fishtail, orange and shimmering. You thought it was just a fairy tale. But now, after some time, you don't bother participating in his surfer disguise (turning his tail into two slender legs, appearing on the beach during the afternoon and disappearing at nightfall), if it means staying by his side and breaking the rules of humanity.
He comes closer, and his harmonious face blocks the sun from your view, as if replacing it. He gives you a deep, lingering kiss, soft yet assertive, and makes you laugh and grab his cheeks.
The reddish-gold waves of his wet hair, and the sparkle of his earrings, are like the sun's rays anyway. The tan they give you always makes you feel even sexier, like his gaze, his touch and his words.
Dave gently takes hold of your hips and begins to caress your legs. You wouldn't mind if you made love in front of everyone right now, and you know he'd mind even less.
"Wanna go to the cliff?" he says, smiling.
Well… maybe some things are meant to stay private.
"You don't even have to ask.”