howdy pardner

¹³⁾ a fistful of sea glass  - leviticus

“Fuckin gray here.”

Naim looks over and up, letting the yellowed, coarse sand slip between his fingers. A few grains stick here and there in the sweaty creases of his palm, gritty and irriating until he brushes them away. 

“The water,” Ryan supplies, swim trunks dragged low on his hips by the weight of the water dripping from it. Down his legs and rivulets, wicking clean sandy feet. 

There were scars– finger marks– right below the bulge of his knee. Perfectly matching Naim’s hand, he knew, if he bothered to reach one up to cover. Naim reaches up to cover them, then slides his palm around to cup the back of Ryan’s thigh, uses it to draw himself closer, lips to the dripping, salty skin. Hair gone acorn from the wet, broken out with goosebumps. Kisses. Sucks down the faint drip of sea that slips inside. Ryan’s fingers poke at his forehead, then push playfully.

“What’re you doing, freak?”

“Fuck you, cunt, being nice,” Naim pushes back, grinning and squinting against the sun that shines around Ryan’s curls.

“Know how you could be nice,” Ryan leers, hip height to Naim’s cheekbone, bumping it harshly. 

Naim grins, shaking his head and looking around the beach– filled with couples and families and people who didn’t give a single care what was happening between two young men. Snippets of french that Naim was still trying to learn flicker past.

“Fuck off, Ryan.”

“Got you something,” Ryan holds his fist out, fingers wrapped tightly around something too small to peek between his fingers.

Naim, after a moment’s hesitation, extends his own, palm up and ready. Expects some living creature, something small and squishy and perhraps with stingers– something certainly that will make him jump, recoil in dsigust for Ryan’s amusement.