Not Alone - AU
Title: Not Alone - 4a/6
Author: littlesumo scribblscrabbl delicatale
Rating: PG-13 (this chapter)
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger
Disclaimer: This is fiction
Summary: Of all the things Fernando wanted to do, of all the things he wanted to see, of all the places he wanted to go to, he never thought giving up football, going back to Spain and moving to Seville would be any of them.
A/N: Don't get too excited by the upped rating ;)
Had to break this up in two parts...
When they get to Cádiz, Dan makes a hum in the back of his throat that slides deeper into Fernando's gut than he feels comfortable with, makes him shift in his seat and swallow.
"Do you smell that?"
Fernando inhales, face in the wind, and catches the distinct smell of the sea-salty, tangy, and he's forgotten it's just about the best smell in the world.
He grins despite himself and sees a matching look on Dan’s face.
"Let's park the car and go for a swim, yeah?"
"Let's!"
Fernando, for the first time in so many months, feels like running and laughing and being free, feeling free. It hasn't happened in so long that when they do park the car and make their way down to the beach, he doesn't even feel apprehensive.
They both go in right away, jeans and shirts and shoes still on, clinging rapidly to their skin as they run deeper into the water, until their toes don't touch the sand anymore and they're chin deep. Fernando dives in, lets the water invade him, mute the sounds for a moment before he feels a hand on his shoulder and he bursts through the water. His hair is in his eyes but still, he laughs, hearing Dan do the same.
After a while they calm down, and as they lie on their backs, eyes closed to the sun as they float around, their fingers brush, their shoulders bump, and Fernando feels an itch, the same he felt that night they went dancing. He wants to reach out and taste Dan, he wants to know for himself if Dan smells of the sea right now.
"We can be anything, here. Nobody cares. Two strangers for a few days."
"I've not been a stranger in years, Dan."
Fernando turns to look at him, but Dan still has his eyes closed.
"Pretend you are for a few days, Nando."
When they get out of the water finally, they lie on the beach and let the sun dry them. Fernando doesn't care that the sand is sticking to his clothes, his hair. The only thing he cares about is that he smells of sea water (and he's close enough that he can smell that Dan does too) and hears the waves breaking. It feels good to not care for a while.
"Let's get the booze." he says.
"Do you want to sleep on the beach?" Not patronizing, just questioning. "If not, we should try to find a room first."
"Okay."
*
They find a room easily enough, but when they open the door, Dan pauses.
"Oh. Um. I didn't think this room would only have a single bed. The receptionista must have misunderstood."
"She did say it's their last free room." Fernando pushes him a bit so he can close the door behind them.
"She could have mentioned this." Dan vaguely gestures to the bed, trying to ignore the lurching of his stomach at the sight.
"Maybe she thought it wasn't necessary? I don't mind sharing. But if you'd rather get a room somewhere else?"
“No. No, it’s fine.” And then he just feels stupid, like he made something out of absolutely nothing, even as he realizes he has a death grip on his bag, the strap biting into his palm.
Fernando eyes him as if he might run away at any moment, biting his lip briefly before offering a small, tentative smile that makes Dan think he’s fucked it all up and now they’re back to square one.
“Don’t worry, I’m a restful sleeper. I won’t accidentally punch you in the face or anything.”
Dan has to laugh at that, stomach finally settling into its proper place as he tosses his bag onto one side of the bed. He tells himself it really will be fine, that it can’t be worse than the time he had to share with Nicklas, who actually does flail in his sleep and made Dan fall off the bed (twice). He ignores the small, annoyingly rational part of his brain intent on pointing out that this isn’t the same and he damn well knows it.
“I promise I’ll retaliate if you do.” He ignores it because of how Fernando’s smiling now, how much he seems to be enjoying the trip already, and how utterly careless he looked in the water, strands of hair sticking to his cheeks, eyes wide like he’s just rediscovered something he forgot he loved with his whole heart. And Dan wants to think that he’s played a part in it, plans to stay as close as he can because he doesn’t want to miss out on any part of Fernando that’s resurfacing so beautifully from underneath the wreckage he’s buried himself under for long enough.
"So what do you want to do?"
It seems that in this whole thing, this friendship, relationship, whatever the hell it is, Fernando is the one taking steps forward. It doesn't surprise Dan in the sense that he's always been reserved and slow to reciprocate, but at the same time, he feels pride at it, because if Fernando feels better and gets better and opens himself to whatever they're doing together, it's sort of thanks to him. He doesn't really have a clue what he's doing, but at least it seems to be working.
"Well, I say showers and then a bit of exploration?"
"Works for me. We're not dressing smartly, are we? I only packed shorts and stuff."
Dan snorts, showing the way he's dressed himself, his shorts stiff with sea water and his shirt clinging to him, smelling like a mix of sweat and sea.
"No, Nando, I don't think our dress code for this trip will be smart at any moment."
"Cool. Go shower, then. I'll crack open a beer while I wait."
For a second, Dan almost says come shower with me, but before the words are accidentally out of his mouth he swallows them, smiling as much as he can.
"Okay."
Their exploration is not much more than walking a few streets until they decide there's time for that tomorrow and they'd both rather be back at the beach. So they go with their earlier plan, booze and the seemingly endless view of sand and sea.
They haven't sat there long, quietly talking to each other, when a few guys approach them. Dan can feel Fernando's shoulders tense, and he wants to put a calming hand on them, but he doesn't.
The guys are tourists, and after some stumbling attempts at Spanish, they decide that English is just that much easier.
"We saw you two sitting here alone, and thought we'd invite you over." The guy who’s talking waves a hand down the beach, where a group of people have assembled, trying to start a fire by the looks of it.
"Um..." There has been no indication yet that Fernando has been recognized. Dan figures these might be one of the very few football ignorant people, but who knows how the others would react? "You sure?"
"Just bring your beer and you'll be fine."
As much as Dan likes to be alone with Fernando, he wouldn't mind spending the evening with a few people either, but he lets Fernando decide, knowing that he'd be more uncomfortable. They both raise their eyebrows at each other, exchanging silent messages before Dan stands up and pulls Fernando to his feet. "Let’s go then."
"Great!" The guys smile widely and then start ahead.
Dan holds Fernando's hand a second longer than necessary, relishing in the warm, slightly calloused skin against his. Fernando doesn't let go immediately either, squeezing his hand when he finally does.
"We better not give them my real name. Just in case."
"What do I call you then?"
"José." Dan wants to comment on that, cliché much?, but he sees Fernando shrug his shoulders. "It's my second name, sí?"
"Oh. Alright."
When they reach the party, there’s a small bonfire going, curling smoke up into the sky and mixing with the smell of the sea. The sun’s starting to set over the horizon, casting a warm, diffuse light that makes the sand and Fernando’s skin glow, and Dan thinks he can really get used to this.
There’s a round of introductions and handshakes (Dan already forgets the first few names by the time he gets to the last one), and then someone turns on a stereo, blasting lively music that makes people’s hips start to move and arms start to sway. Dan just rubs at the condensation on his beer bottle, wishing he was just a bit more rhythm-oriented and a bit less self-conscious.
“Hey, José, right?” Dan looks up and sees an incredibly tan guy with incredibly bleached hair, flashing incredibly white teeth at Fernando, and Dan’s instinct is to punch him first, ask questions later. “You look really familiar, have we met before? And I promise that’s not a pick-up line.”
Fernando laughs a little but his eyes are guarded and Dan uncurls the fist he doesn’t even remember making. Still there’s a possessive streak coiling and uncoiling in his chest that would unnerve him if he weren’t so busy burning holes into the side of the new guy’s face.
“I don’t think so, I’m not from around here.” Fernando leaves it at that and Dan really hopes that it’ll be interpreted as 'fuck off' even when he knows he’s being ridiculous because he wanted- wants to meet people, socialize.
“I’m Paul, not from around here either. California to be exact.” He holds out a hand and Fernando pauses for a second before taking it, offering the kind of small but genuine smile that Dan wishes was reserved for him.
“This is Dan.” Fernando finally turns to him, eyes softening a little (or maybe it’s just the light), and he makes the effort to nod at Paul.
"Hey, nice to meet you. Not a local either, are you?"
"What makes you say that?"
Paul shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Dan feels incredibly defensive, wanting to reach out and wrap an arm around Fernando's shoulders, but at the same time he knows it's ridiculous. The guy is just being friendly.
"You don't look very Spanish, is all."
Fernando snorts, and he and Dan share an amused look, a second that makes Dan's heart flip, that nobody else can understand.
"I'm Danish. But I live in Sevilla."
"Ah, cool. Hey, José, do you want to share a couple of shots with me?"
Fernando looks over at Dan, and Dan clenches his jaw as he gives Fernando a helpless shrug. He's not here to keep Fernando from having fun, he wants him to enjoy himself. It's the whole point of this.
"Um, sure. Okay."
Paul grabs Fernando's wrist, in a way that makes Dan look away and start walking a bit away from the fire, towards the sea.
Getting totally smashed is possibly not the best idea, at least one of them should know the way back to the hotel, but it's not like Fernando would care, doing shots with Paul, God knows where.
Dan's not looking, he doesn't much care, Fernando is a grown-up, he's not jealous.
A bit lonely though, maybe, as he watches the sun descent fully into the sea. People come to talk to him and he knows he's a bit tight lipped and damn that's not how this was supposed to turn out. He was supposed to have fun too, and people are making an effort to be nice to him so he pulls himself together and reciprocates.
He almost forgets about Fernando (not really, but the conversations and the alcohol help push him to the back of his mind), until he appears out of the darkness and plops down beside him on the sand.
"Had fun?"
"Yes!" Fernando giggles and Dan rolls his eyes, amused. He's too drunk himself now to feel any of the feelings he had earlier.
"Paul had this horrible stuff, but it wasn't so bad after a few shots." Dan grins, and Fernando reaches over to get to one of the beers he has by his feet.
"He kissed me." Between two sips of beer, like it was nothing. And okay, so the jealousy might still be there, very much so.
"And... what did you do?"
"Came back here."
“Oh.” Dan licks his lips and looks out to sea for a moment because he’s not sure that he can look at Fernando now and not want to lean in, take his face with both hands, and make him forget Paul ever existed. “Why didn’t you stay? He seemed- nice.”
“It’s flattering. Just- not what I want right now.”
Dan turns back and Fernando’s staring at him, lips wet and eyes half-lidded, and he realizes he wants Fernando to lean against him and say, this, this is what I want, so badly it scares him.
He shifts his mouth into something he’s not even sure looks like a smile and doesn’t respond because his lungs are collapsing a little, blood rushing way too quickly to his brain, and his self-preservation instinct has kicked in, even when a part of him is fighting it, wanting to dive in for once without giving a thought to whether the tide will just swallow him and never spit him out. So he stays quiet and looks away again, wondering which is really worse, being reckless and losing the battle or being a coward and regretting that he never tried to win it.
“Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?” Dan can hear the mischief in Fernando’s voice and he has to look, see exactly how it shines in Fernando’s eyes.
“Um, once, when I was younger.” He’s flushing already in anticipation of what Fernando’s about to suggest, picking at the label on the beer bottle and peeling it off in thin strips. He always has to keep his hands busy when he’s nervous.
“Care to relive that experience?”
“Not that I'm a prude or anything, but there's a lot of people around.”
To be quite honest, Dan's problem with the party going on right there is that he doesn't want them to ogle Fernando. He doesn't really care about himself, but if they do this the traditional way, Nando will be naked and Dan kind of wants to be the only one to see that.
“Let's go further away then.”
Fernando stands up right away, holding his hand out for Dan, who takes it and lets himself be hoisted up. They walk away quickly, letting the sounds and lights of the party dim a little before stopping. And then Fernando takes his shirt off, and Dan's eyes flick down to that newly exposed expanse of skin, glowing under the moon.
“Come on, Dan. Or you want me to turn around?”
Fernando is smiling, a little devilish, daring, so Dan takes his shirt off too, squaring his jaw in answer. He's still not sure if they're going naked.
“Nice tats.”
That's all Fernando says before dropping his shorts and Dan has to dry-swallow around the lump of arousal in his throat as he watches Fernando run into the sea, yelling and laughing when the water hits him.
Now is definitely not the time to get a hard-on.
The water is fucking cold, and for a moment Dan thinks he’s going to lose feeling in all his limbs and drown. But then his head emerges from the waves and his feet have sand under them and he scolds himself for being such a wuss. The cold does clear his head a bit though, which might or might not be a good thing when he spots Fernando ahead of him, paddling in the water, waiting.
He swims over and the nearer he gets, the more conscious he becomes of his and Fernando's state of undress. Although it’s dark and the water’s covering him, Dan's imagination runs away with him, images of freckles and smooth skin and buttocks in the moonlight.
When he stops swimming, Fernando clasps a hand down on his forearm, preventing them from drifting apart, and with the other he splashes a bit of water at Dan's face. They laugh and Dan retaliates but then a particularly strong wave pushes them together and Dan forgets all thoughts about the coldness of the water as he feels Fernando's body heat burning on his own skin. They're very close now, so close Dan could count every single freckle over Fernando's nose if he chose to do so, lean over and taste them even, swipe his tongue along the curve of Fernando’s cheekbone.
And suddenly he’s aware of just how sober he feels, exactly how the low tide is lapping against his throat, and how Fernando’s lashes are clumped together with seawater. Yet somehow he feels braver here, more certain, treading water with no clear view of the horizon or the shore, maybe because he’s got that buzz of adrenaline right under his skin now (from the chill and the spontaneity). He feels like he’s shed some top layer that’s been keeping him in, keeping him from the one thing he’s wanted to do, from almost the first time he set eyes on Fernando if he dares to admit it.
“Any regrets?” Fernando’s teasing a little but Dan thinks he can see some thicker emotion in Fernando’s eyes, almost black now in the dark, that’s making his hand flex around Dan’s arm.
And before his brain can come up with a witty response, before he can make excuses, miss a chance he might never get back, he slides one hand up to cup Fernando’s cheek. He only waits long enough for Fernando’s lashes to flutter and mouth to part, and then leans in the rest of the way, legs on auto-pilot now, just treading enough to keep this moment going.
The kiss is soft at first, lips brushing like they’re kids in a schoolyard, fumbling hands and red cheeks. Then Fernando makes a small, needy sound in the back of his throat and pushes harder, warm tongue flicking out against Dan’s lower lip and fuck, if he were on solid ground, he thinks his knees would give a little.
Part B
Author: littlesumo scribblscrabbl delicatale
Rating: PG-13 (this chapter)
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger
Disclaimer: This is fiction
Summary: Of all the things Fernando wanted to do, of all the things he wanted to see, of all the places he wanted to go to, he never thought giving up football, going back to Spain and moving to Seville would be any of them.
A/N: Don't get too excited by the upped rating ;)
Had to break this up in two parts...
When they get to Cádiz, Dan makes a hum in the back of his throat that slides deeper into Fernando's gut than he feels comfortable with, makes him shift in his seat and swallow.
"Do you smell that?"
Fernando inhales, face in the wind, and catches the distinct smell of the sea-salty, tangy, and he's forgotten it's just about the best smell in the world.
He grins despite himself and sees a matching look on Dan’s face.
"Let's park the car and go for a swim, yeah?"
"Let's!"
Fernando, for the first time in so many months, feels like running and laughing and being free, feeling free. It hasn't happened in so long that when they do park the car and make their way down to the beach, he doesn't even feel apprehensive.
They both go in right away, jeans and shirts and shoes still on, clinging rapidly to their skin as they run deeper into the water, until their toes don't touch the sand anymore and they're chin deep. Fernando dives in, lets the water invade him, mute the sounds for a moment before he feels a hand on his shoulder and he bursts through the water. His hair is in his eyes but still, he laughs, hearing Dan do the same.
After a while they calm down, and as they lie on their backs, eyes closed to the sun as they float around, their fingers brush, their shoulders bump, and Fernando feels an itch, the same he felt that night they went dancing. He wants to reach out and taste Dan, he wants to know for himself if Dan smells of the sea right now.
"We can be anything, here. Nobody cares. Two strangers for a few days."
"I've not been a stranger in years, Dan."
Fernando turns to look at him, but Dan still has his eyes closed.
"Pretend you are for a few days, Nando."
When they get out of the water finally, they lie on the beach and let the sun dry them. Fernando doesn't care that the sand is sticking to his clothes, his hair. The only thing he cares about is that he smells of sea water (and he's close enough that he can smell that Dan does too) and hears the waves breaking. It feels good to not care for a while.
"Let's get the booze." he says.
"Do you want to sleep on the beach?" Not patronizing, just questioning. "If not, we should try to find a room first."
"Okay."
*
They find a room easily enough, but when they open the door, Dan pauses.
"Oh. Um. I didn't think this room would only have a single bed. The receptionista must have misunderstood."
"She did say it's their last free room." Fernando pushes him a bit so he can close the door behind them.
"She could have mentioned this." Dan vaguely gestures to the bed, trying to ignore the lurching of his stomach at the sight.
"Maybe she thought it wasn't necessary? I don't mind sharing. But if you'd rather get a room somewhere else?"
“No. No, it’s fine.” And then he just feels stupid, like he made something out of absolutely nothing, even as he realizes he has a death grip on his bag, the strap biting into his palm.
Fernando eyes him as if he might run away at any moment, biting his lip briefly before offering a small, tentative smile that makes Dan think he’s fucked it all up and now they’re back to square one.
“Don’t worry, I’m a restful sleeper. I won’t accidentally punch you in the face or anything.”
Dan has to laugh at that, stomach finally settling into its proper place as he tosses his bag onto one side of the bed. He tells himself it really will be fine, that it can’t be worse than the time he had to share with Nicklas, who actually does flail in his sleep and made Dan fall off the bed (twice). He ignores the small, annoyingly rational part of his brain intent on pointing out that this isn’t the same and he damn well knows it.
“I promise I’ll retaliate if you do.” He ignores it because of how Fernando’s smiling now, how much he seems to be enjoying the trip already, and how utterly careless he looked in the water, strands of hair sticking to his cheeks, eyes wide like he’s just rediscovered something he forgot he loved with his whole heart. And Dan wants to think that he’s played a part in it, plans to stay as close as he can because he doesn’t want to miss out on any part of Fernando that’s resurfacing so beautifully from underneath the wreckage he’s buried himself under for long enough.
"So what do you want to do?"
It seems that in this whole thing, this friendship, relationship, whatever the hell it is, Fernando is the one taking steps forward. It doesn't surprise Dan in the sense that he's always been reserved and slow to reciprocate, but at the same time, he feels pride at it, because if Fernando feels better and gets better and opens himself to whatever they're doing together, it's sort of thanks to him. He doesn't really have a clue what he's doing, but at least it seems to be working.
"Well, I say showers and then a bit of exploration?"
"Works for me. We're not dressing smartly, are we? I only packed shorts and stuff."
Dan snorts, showing the way he's dressed himself, his shorts stiff with sea water and his shirt clinging to him, smelling like a mix of sweat and sea.
"No, Nando, I don't think our dress code for this trip will be smart at any moment."
"Cool. Go shower, then. I'll crack open a beer while I wait."
For a second, Dan almost says come shower with me, but before the words are accidentally out of his mouth he swallows them, smiling as much as he can.
"Okay."
Their exploration is not much more than walking a few streets until they decide there's time for that tomorrow and they'd both rather be back at the beach. So they go with their earlier plan, booze and the seemingly endless view of sand and sea.
They haven't sat there long, quietly talking to each other, when a few guys approach them. Dan can feel Fernando's shoulders tense, and he wants to put a calming hand on them, but he doesn't.
The guys are tourists, and after some stumbling attempts at Spanish, they decide that English is just that much easier.
"We saw you two sitting here alone, and thought we'd invite you over." The guy who’s talking waves a hand down the beach, where a group of people have assembled, trying to start a fire by the looks of it.
"Um..." There has been no indication yet that Fernando has been recognized. Dan figures these might be one of the very few football ignorant people, but who knows how the others would react? "You sure?"
"Just bring your beer and you'll be fine."
As much as Dan likes to be alone with Fernando, he wouldn't mind spending the evening with a few people either, but he lets Fernando decide, knowing that he'd be more uncomfortable. They both raise their eyebrows at each other, exchanging silent messages before Dan stands up and pulls Fernando to his feet. "Let’s go then."
"Great!" The guys smile widely and then start ahead.
Dan holds Fernando's hand a second longer than necessary, relishing in the warm, slightly calloused skin against his. Fernando doesn't let go immediately either, squeezing his hand when he finally does.
"We better not give them my real name. Just in case."
"What do I call you then?"
"José." Dan wants to comment on that, cliché much?, but he sees Fernando shrug his shoulders. "It's my second name, sí?"
"Oh. Alright."
When they reach the party, there’s a small bonfire going, curling smoke up into the sky and mixing with the smell of the sea. The sun’s starting to set over the horizon, casting a warm, diffuse light that makes the sand and Fernando’s skin glow, and Dan thinks he can really get used to this.
There’s a round of introductions and handshakes (Dan already forgets the first few names by the time he gets to the last one), and then someone turns on a stereo, blasting lively music that makes people’s hips start to move and arms start to sway. Dan just rubs at the condensation on his beer bottle, wishing he was just a bit more rhythm-oriented and a bit less self-conscious.
“Hey, José, right?” Dan looks up and sees an incredibly tan guy with incredibly bleached hair, flashing incredibly white teeth at Fernando, and Dan’s instinct is to punch him first, ask questions later. “You look really familiar, have we met before? And I promise that’s not a pick-up line.”
Fernando laughs a little but his eyes are guarded and Dan uncurls the fist he doesn’t even remember making. Still there’s a possessive streak coiling and uncoiling in his chest that would unnerve him if he weren’t so busy burning holes into the side of the new guy’s face.
“I don’t think so, I’m not from around here.” Fernando leaves it at that and Dan really hopes that it’ll be interpreted as 'fuck off' even when he knows he’s being ridiculous because he wanted- wants to meet people, socialize.
“I’m Paul, not from around here either. California to be exact.” He holds out a hand and Fernando pauses for a second before taking it, offering the kind of small but genuine smile that Dan wishes was reserved for him.
“This is Dan.” Fernando finally turns to him, eyes softening a little (or maybe it’s just the light), and he makes the effort to nod at Paul.
"Hey, nice to meet you. Not a local either, are you?"
"What makes you say that?"
Paul shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Dan feels incredibly defensive, wanting to reach out and wrap an arm around Fernando's shoulders, but at the same time he knows it's ridiculous. The guy is just being friendly.
"You don't look very Spanish, is all."
Fernando snorts, and he and Dan share an amused look, a second that makes Dan's heart flip, that nobody else can understand.
"I'm Danish. But I live in Sevilla."
"Ah, cool. Hey, José, do you want to share a couple of shots with me?"
Fernando looks over at Dan, and Dan clenches his jaw as he gives Fernando a helpless shrug. He's not here to keep Fernando from having fun, he wants him to enjoy himself. It's the whole point of this.
"Um, sure. Okay."
Paul grabs Fernando's wrist, in a way that makes Dan look away and start walking a bit away from the fire, towards the sea.
Getting totally smashed is possibly not the best idea, at least one of them should know the way back to the hotel, but it's not like Fernando would care, doing shots with Paul, God knows where.
Dan's not looking, he doesn't much care, Fernando is a grown-up, he's not jealous.
A bit lonely though, maybe, as he watches the sun descent fully into the sea. People come to talk to him and he knows he's a bit tight lipped and damn that's not how this was supposed to turn out. He was supposed to have fun too, and people are making an effort to be nice to him so he pulls himself together and reciprocates.
He almost forgets about Fernando (not really, but the conversations and the alcohol help push him to the back of his mind), until he appears out of the darkness and plops down beside him on the sand.
"Had fun?"
"Yes!" Fernando giggles and Dan rolls his eyes, amused. He's too drunk himself now to feel any of the feelings he had earlier.
"Paul had this horrible stuff, but it wasn't so bad after a few shots." Dan grins, and Fernando reaches over to get to one of the beers he has by his feet.
"He kissed me." Between two sips of beer, like it was nothing. And okay, so the jealousy might still be there, very much so.
"And... what did you do?"
"Came back here."
“Oh.” Dan licks his lips and looks out to sea for a moment because he’s not sure that he can look at Fernando now and not want to lean in, take his face with both hands, and make him forget Paul ever existed. “Why didn’t you stay? He seemed- nice.”
“It’s flattering. Just- not what I want right now.”
Dan turns back and Fernando’s staring at him, lips wet and eyes half-lidded, and he realizes he wants Fernando to lean against him and say, this, this is what I want, so badly it scares him.
He shifts his mouth into something he’s not even sure looks like a smile and doesn’t respond because his lungs are collapsing a little, blood rushing way too quickly to his brain, and his self-preservation instinct has kicked in, even when a part of him is fighting it, wanting to dive in for once without giving a thought to whether the tide will just swallow him and never spit him out. So he stays quiet and looks away again, wondering which is really worse, being reckless and losing the battle or being a coward and regretting that he never tried to win it.
“Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?” Dan can hear the mischief in Fernando’s voice and he has to look, see exactly how it shines in Fernando’s eyes.
“Um, once, when I was younger.” He’s flushing already in anticipation of what Fernando’s about to suggest, picking at the label on the beer bottle and peeling it off in thin strips. He always has to keep his hands busy when he’s nervous.
“Care to relive that experience?”
“Not that I'm a prude or anything, but there's a lot of people around.”
To be quite honest, Dan's problem with the party going on right there is that he doesn't want them to ogle Fernando. He doesn't really care about himself, but if they do this the traditional way, Nando will be naked and Dan kind of wants to be the only one to see that.
“Let's go further away then.”
Fernando stands up right away, holding his hand out for Dan, who takes it and lets himself be hoisted up. They walk away quickly, letting the sounds and lights of the party dim a little before stopping. And then Fernando takes his shirt off, and Dan's eyes flick down to that newly exposed expanse of skin, glowing under the moon.
“Come on, Dan. Or you want me to turn around?”
Fernando is smiling, a little devilish, daring, so Dan takes his shirt off too, squaring his jaw in answer. He's still not sure if they're going naked.
“Nice tats.”
That's all Fernando says before dropping his shorts and Dan has to dry-swallow around the lump of arousal in his throat as he watches Fernando run into the sea, yelling and laughing when the water hits him.
Now is definitely not the time to get a hard-on.
The water is fucking cold, and for a moment Dan thinks he’s going to lose feeling in all his limbs and drown. But then his head emerges from the waves and his feet have sand under them and he scolds himself for being such a wuss. The cold does clear his head a bit though, which might or might not be a good thing when he spots Fernando ahead of him, paddling in the water, waiting.
He swims over and the nearer he gets, the more conscious he becomes of his and Fernando's state of undress. Although it’s dark and the water’s covering him, Dan's imagination runs away with him, images of freckles and smooth skin and buttocks in the moonlight.
When he stops swimming, Fernando clasps a hand down on his forearm, preventing them from drifting apart, and with the other he splashes a bit of water at Dan's face. They laugh and Dan retaliates but then a particularly strong wave pushes them together and Dan forgets all thoughts about the coldness of the water as he feels Fernando's body heat burning on his own skin. They're very close now, so close Dan could count every single freckle over Fernando's nose if he chose to do so, lean over and taste them even, swipe his tongue along the curve of Fernando’s cheekbone.
And suddenly he’s aware of just how sober he feels, exactly how the low tide is lapping against his throat, and how Fernando’s lashes are clumped together with seawater. Yet somehow he feels braver here, more certain, treading water with no clear view of the horizon or the shore, maybe because he’s got that buzz of adrenaline right under his skin now (from the chill and the spontaneity). He feels like he’s shed some top layer that’s been keeping him in, keeping him from the one thing he’s wanted to do, from almost the first time he set eyes on Fernando if he dares to admit it.
“Any regrets?” Fernando’s teasing a little but Dan thinks he can see some thicker emotion in Fernando’s eyes, almost black now in the dark, that’s making his hand flex around Dan’s arm.
And before his brain can come up with a witty response, before he can make excuses, miss a chance he might never get back, he slides one hand up to cup Fernando’s cheek. He only waits long enough for Fernando’s lashes to flutter and mouth to part, and then leans in the rest of the way, legs on auto-pilot now, just treading enough to keep this moment going.
The kiss is soft at first, lips brushing like they’re kids in a schoolyard, fumbling hands and red cheeks. Then Fernando makes a small, needy sound in the back of his throat and pushes harder, warm tongue flicking out against Dan’s lower lip and fuck, if he were on solid ground, he thinks his knees would give a little.
Part B