boywhoflew | (no subject)

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With school out of session and July in full swing, the boardwalk was alive with summer.

In a weird way, even having grown up in California, it felt more west coast that east coast in his opinion. The number of bodies wandering in shorts and tank-tops or even dressed down to their swimwear was so quintessentially standard that for a second he could almost picture it being more from a television show than real life. But for as many people were wandering the boardwalk, the beach proper was almost bare but for a few wandering families.

It was crowded up on the strip, but the water looked quiet. Almost private, if not for a few kids squealing as they splashed in the shallows.

He'd packed a duffle bag. Towels, sunblock, and a few bags of chips. Nothing but the basics when they had shops and food carts barely out of sight. But if he was honest, nothing seemed like much of a necessity when the apartment was a bus ride away and he had Dee to distract him.

With whatever black magic she somehow managed to use on him that left him with itchy palms and the impulse to smile like an idiot.

"In a few days when I'm peeling, I get to blame it on you." He said pointedly, raising an eyebrow and then giving Dee a wry grin.

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"While I might not have as much first hand knowledge as some of our peers, I'm going to have to say yes." He said, eyes narrowing at her fluttering lashes but dropping to her chest when she stretched. Damn it. Minx. Determined to not take the bait, he forced his attention back up to her face.

With a sigh he twisted and turned so he was facing her, his legs crossed and his elbows propped on his knees. "You're little coy act is cute and all, but I see through you."

Girl grins up at him, nudging her glasses back into place on the bridge of her nose, resting her head on her folded arms. She looks up at him, studying him for a moment.

"Are you going to keep your shirt on all day?"

"We're not in the water," Carson defended with a shrug. Keeping his shirt on just seemed sensible, what with the threat of skin cancer and weeks of peeling if he ended up burning. Despite his lack of abs he wasn't actually all that worried for his self esteem, he didn't give a single shit what anyone down on the shore thought of him. But melanoma was no laughing matter, so if he didn't need to be half naked, he didn't see the point.

"Disappointed?" He asked, giving her a smug grin.

Dee reaches out and slips her hand under the hem of his shirt, grazing her palm against warm skin. She raises her eyebrows.

"Maybe a little?"

"If the goal was just to get me shirtless, you could have managed that back at my place." He teased, squirming at the press of her hand against his skin. "There was no need to set up an elaborate charade or make me go buy SPF 50."

"Maybe I just want to look at you in daylight?" She takes her hand off him and pushes up onto her elbows. "Look. I come from a place where you pretty much hide from to sun unless you want to get eaten up altogether. This is new for me."

"I'm just giving you shit," Carson reasoned with a shrug. Shuffling closer on the blanket he rested his hand in the elbow between her shoulder blades and smoothed his fingers over sun warmed skin. "This is fun. And if you'd rather I took my shirt off, I could probably be convinced to do so."

"I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable," says Dee, leaning into his touch. "But I do. Like looking at you. That's all."

"Is it weird and selfish to say I like that you like looking at me?" There was a beat of silence following that question, and Carson's nose wrinkled as he considered his own words. Shaking off the lingering oddness and the sense of middle school cliches, he shrugged and raised an eyebrow at her. "For the record, if something makes me uncomfortable, I'll tell you. I'm not very good at holding that kind of thing back. I like to think its one of my finer qualities."

"Telling, maybe," she says, rolling one brown shoulder. "But not selfish and definitely not weird." She grins at him. "You just need to get used to it, that's all. I'm not really used to anyone wanting to look at me either. I wasn't much of anything back in the Zones."

"Which is stupid." He stated emphatically, a frown pinching between his brows as he looked her over. "If you had gone to my high school back home, I'm pretty sure the entire female population would have been seething in jealousy. I don't think a bunch of uppity small town girls would have known what to do if someone of actual substance and beauty had been there for comparison."

Girl blushes a little and rolls her eyes, but mostly just to dismiss how it makes her feel when he compliments her like that.

"You didn't know me before I met the witch."

"So?" He asked, unsure of what difference that made.

"Doesn't make it any less true." Carson told her with a shrug. "I'm pretty sure we could wrap you in a tarp and put a bag over your head and you'd still have been ahead of them or any other girl in this place. Which honestly just makes this," he pointed between himself and her and raised an eyebrow. "All the more suspect. I'm still waiting to find out I've been punk'd."

It had been long enough since prom and that first nervous date that he was joking. Mostly.

Girl doesn't know the word but she can figure it out from context. She rolls her eyes behind her sunglasses.

"Just come down here and kiss me."

"Bossy," he complained with a grin. Twisting he shifted from sitting cross-legged to sprawling out on his belly alongside her, popping up on his elbows. "You're lucky I like you," he added dryly, flicking an errant curl away from her temple before bumping her shoulder with his and leaning to take a kiss.

"You love that I'm bossy," says Girl, leaning up to deepen the kiss just a little, her tits grazing against him. They've spent a lot of time together but they're still pretty limited to using their hands and, sometimes, she wants him inside her so badly that she feels like she's going to die waiting.

Carson hummed into the kiss and reached to cup the round of her shoulder. Public displays were still a little weird and new in his book, something he inherently associated with the stupid or depraved. But the warm press of Dee against him and her lips on his was more than a little difficult to resist, as sheepish as he sometimes felt over it.

He figured he was allowed to have a learning curve with it.

"I put up with it," he teased when they broke apart.

"Mmmhm." It's a soft, affirmative sound, made between pursed lips. She studies him for a moment, then, very deliberately, adjusts the strap of her bikini against her brown shoulder. "Whatever you say, Carson. But I'm going to remind you of that later."

"Is that a promise?" He asked cheekily, raising an eyebrow. Challengingly he studied her, eyes trailing over her critically before rising back to her face. After a beat he began to grin. "Or a threat? Because I can promise you that you're not the only one who can play games."

"Either way, you'll enjoy it, I promise." She grins at him, flashing straight right teeth. "But I'm pretty sure I can take you, baby."

Part of him wanted to be irritated at how perfect that smile was, but he couldn't quite muster up the sentiment. "Yeah?" He asked, smirking before lifting his shoulders in a flippant shrug. "Actually, yeah. You can probably kick my ass. I'm kinda concerned over how much that doesn't bother me." Leaning in he pressed a kiss to her cheekbone, and pulled back just far enough to smirk against her skin. "But don't think that I wouldn't be willing to dish it right back."

Dee turned her head, pressing another kiss against the corner of his mouth. She rolls one shoulder in a shrug, one dark eyebrow lifting slightly.

"Guess we'd just have to see who came out on top."

"If you're suggesting we roll around grappling each other, I might be more than okay with that." Carson said, pushing his hair back off of his forehead. Giving her a sideways glance, he bit down a grin that was threatening.

"Or I could just be a gentleman and let you come on top?" He asked cooly, probably a little too self satisfied with the open-handed double entendre. Sometimes it was difficult to resist when the opportunity was right there in front of him, crass or not.

"I bet you've given that some serious thought," says Girl, smirking up at him. Suddenly, she's really sorry that they're on a public beach. Her eyes dart down his body and back up again. "I might have. Maybe."

At her assessing look his ears felt hot, and he was fairly sure it wasn't just because of the sun beating down on them. Clearing his throat, Carson tried to shrug in a way that was dismissive, but the truth was he had given it serious thought. The added fact by her own admission she had been thinking about it too just made it feel more like a certainty. When he wasn't sure, but every day that passed the whole thing between them, the relationship, felt less uncertain and more solid.

It was as frightening as it was reassuring.

"Yeah?" He asked, sparing her bare skin a glance but then considering the rich gleam of her eyes instead. "In these thoughts you might have had, is it-- well, good?"