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⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆ word count: not sure but sorry Content warnings:
alcohol/ underage drinking/ kissing/romantic tension/ jealousy/ emotional conflict/ mild language/ party scenes
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The first time Johnny Sinclair met Y/n, she was standing knee-deep in the ocean holding a dead crab in both hands.
She couldn’t have been older than seven.
The tide pulled at her knees. Wind tangled her salt water curls across her face. She stared down at the crab with this awful kind of seriousness, like she thought maybe she’d interrupted something important.
“It washed up like this,” she said quietly.
Johnny had been halfway through a pack of watermelon candies, sunburnt across the nose and already impossible at that age. He squinted at her from farther up the beach.
“You’re weird.”
She looked up immediately.
“You’re loud.”
Johnny grinned at that, shameless.
“You’re supposed to say thank you. I came over here to help.”
“You came over here to be annoying.”
“I can do both.”
Y/n looked back down at the crab in her hands, expression softening again. “Stop being mean and help me bury the poor baby crab.”
Johnny stared at her for a second.
Then sighed dramatically and trudged farther into the water toward her. “Fine. But if we get haunted because of this, it’s your fault.”
That should’ve been it.
Instead, Johnny followed her down the shoreline while she searched for the perfect place to bury the crab, talking the entire time while she rolled her eyes at nearly everything he said.
After that, they became unavoidable.
Every summer folded the two of them together somehow.
Bare feet against hot docks. Saltwater drying on sunburnt shoulders. Late nights tangled into old Sinclair couches while storms rattled the windows outside Cuddledown. Johnny throwing himself off cliffs first because he liked hearing everyone scream after him. Y/n sitting wrapped in towels with library books gone soft from seawater.
The Liars grew up around each other like that.
Cady with her curiosity. Mirren all glitter and trouble. Gat watching everything quietly from the edges.
And Johnny.
Johnny, who always laughed a little too loud at inappropriate moments.
Johnny, who could make an entire room feel brighter until suddenly it didn’t.
He is bounce.
He is effort and snark.
Other times he was something sharper.
Most people only noticed the first part.
Y/n noticed both.
She noticed how his jokes got meaner when he was upset. The way he disappeared after arguments with his mother. How he always came back pretending nothing happened at all.
Johnny Sinclair could turn anything into a performance.
Except with her.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
By eighteen, things had started shifting in ways neither of them knew how to talk about.
Johnny noticed it the second she stepped off the boat that June.
The wind caught her hair instantly, soft waves lifting around her shoulders. She wore an oversized sweater despite the heat, sleeves pulled over her hands the way they always were when she’d been reading too long.
She looked up toward the dock.
Found him immediately.
And smiled.
It hit him somewhere directly in the ribs.
Johnny leaned back against the railing, sunglasses slipping down his nose. “Thought maybe you finally decided not to come back this year.”
Y/n walked closer, dragging two overstuffed bags behind her. “You wish.”
“I had peace for almost three weeks. It was horrible.”
“That sounds difficult for you.”
“Worst experience of my life, honestly.”
He reached for one of her bags before she could stop him.
It weighed way too much.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Did you pack bricks?”
“Books.”
“Which is somehow worse.”
She laughed under her breath and Johnny looked away for a second after hearing it, like he needed to recover from something.
Neither of them noticed Gat watching from farther down the dock.
Gat noticed everything.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The others realized before they did.
Maybe because it was obvious.
Johnny always looked for her first in every room without meaning to.
And Y/n had this habit of drifting toward him naturally, like standing beside him happened automatically.
One afternoon, the Liars were spread around the pool while music played softly through the speaker next to the lounge chairs.
The heat pressed heavy over Beechwood.
Y/n floated lazily near the edge of the pool while Johnny sat nearby with his feet in the water, pretending not to smoke a cigarette he definitely wasn’t supposed to have.
“You look guilty,” Y/n told him.
Johnny glanced down at the cigarette. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“You literally hide it every time someone walks by.”
“That’s called strategy.”
“That’s called being bad at lying.”
He grinned despite himself.
She swam closer, pushing wet hair back from her face. “Race you.”
Johnny looked horrified. “Against you? Absolutely not.”
“Scared?”
“I’ve seen you swim. You move like some kind of haunted mermaid.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Before he could respond, she shoved off toward the other side of the pool.
“Oh, you’re evil,” Johnny called, diving in after her.
Water crashed around them.
Halfway across the pool, Johnny grabbed her ankle and pulled her backward through the water.
Y/n let out a loud gasp. “Johnny!”
“What?” he said innocently, already laughing.
“You can’t just cheat and expect no repercussions!”
“I absolutely can.”
She splashed water hard into his face.
Johnny sputtered immediately, wiping water from his eyes. “Okay, wow. Aggressive.”
“That’s what you deserve.”
“You’re acting like I committed a crime.”
“You dragged me underwater!”
“Correction,” Johnny said, swimming closer again, “I’m about to.”
Before she could move, he hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her under with him.
The water exploded around them.
Y/n resurfaced first, coughing out a laugh while shoving wet hair out of her face. “You’re unbelievable!”
Johnny surfaced right after her, grinning so hard he could barely breathe. “And yet I’m still winning.”
“You are the most annoying person alive.”
“Yeah, but you like me anyway.”
She splashed him again before trying to swim off, but Johnny caught her ankle a second time, laughing while she yelled at him through her own laughter.
By the time they reached the edge again, both of them were laughing hard enough to barely stay upright.
Later, Y/n stretched out across one of the lounge chairs next to Mirren and Cadence.
while Gat talked beside Johnny in the pool.
Johnny stopped listening halfway through the conversation.
Y/n’s shoulders were turning pink in the sun.
“You forgot sunscreen again,” he said.
Without opening her eyes, she answered, “I literally put some on earlier.”
“Clearly not enough.”
“I’m fine.”
“You say that every time right before looking like a boiled lobster.”
Mirren snorted from her chair nearby.
Cady lowered her sunglasses slowly, already smiling.
Johnny ignored both of them and hauled himself out of the pool.
“Hold still.”
Y/n cracked one eye open as he grabbed the sunscreen bottle from beside her chair.
“You are unbelievably dramatic.”
“And you are unbelievably bad at taking care of yourself.”
“That feels exaggerated.”
“It’s really not.”
He crouched beside her and rubbed sunscreen across her shoulders with absentminded care, still talking the entire time like this was completely normal.
Maybe it was.
Maybe that was the problem.
Gat watched them for a long moment before muttering, “This is painful.”
“Thank you,” Mirren whispered back. “I thought I was the only one suffering.”
Johnny looked up immediately. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” all three of them said at once.
Y/n pressed her face into her arms to hide her smile.
Johnny stared at her for a second too long before looking away.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Later that week, they shared the hammock tucked beneath the trees behind Clairmont.
It had always been theirs.
Y/n read while Johnny stretched out beside her, one arm tucked behind his head as the hammock swayed lazily in the summer breeze. Sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, turning everything gold.
“What’re you reading?” Johnny asked after a while, voice quieter than usual.
Y/n glanced down at the page. “The Hunger Games.”
Johnny groaned dramatically. “Haven’t you read that book like fifty times already?”
“Some of us enjoy stories with emotional depth.”
“Oh, right. My bad.”
She nudged him lightly with her foot. “Not all of us find psychological warfare entertaining.”
Johnny looked offended. “I’m hilarious.”
“You’re deeply concerning.”
“Also true.”
The hammock shifted softly beneath them.
Somewhere farther down the beach, waves crashed against the rocks below the cliffs. The sound carried through the trees with the wind.
Johnny turned his head slightly, watching sunlight move across her face.
“Have you ever thought about leaving this place and never looking back?” he asked quietly.
Y/n looked up from her book almost immediately.
“Yeah,” she admitted softly. “Sometimes.”
Johnny stared up through the trees for a second. “I think I would.”
That made her look at him fully now.
He shrugged a little after saying it, like he already regretted letting the thought out loud.
“But,” Y/n said after a moment, folding the corner of her page carefully, “I’d always come back.”
Johnny looked away first after that.
Because Beechwood got into people slowly.
Salt in your lungs. Sunlight in your skin. The feeling that the island existed slightly outside the rest of the world.
Y/n wasn’t technically a Sinclair.
But somehow Beechwood belonged to her anyway.
Or maybe she belonged to it.
Johnny had never really been able to tell the difference.
And somewhere deep down, in a place he didn’t know how to name yet, he thought maybe one day she’d belong to him in that same impossible way too.
She smiled a little before settling deeper into the hammock, laying her legs across his without thinking about it.
Johnny’s hand rested absently against her knee like it belonged there.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The outdoor shower happened after one of those unbearably hot July beach days where the air still clung to your skin long after sunset.
The Liars had stayed out for hours.
Swimming until their limbs ached. Letting waves drag them under. Throwing themselves into the ocean over and over like they were trying to outrun growing up.
By the time they finally headed back toward the houses, everyone was exhausted and covered in salt and sand.
Mirren and Cady walked ahead arguing about music while Gat disappeared somewhere behind them looking through a new book.
Johnny and Y/n lagged behind naturally.
They always did.
“You’ve got sand literally everywhere,” Y/n laughed, glancing over at him.
Johnny looked down at himself in mock horror. “You tackled me.”
“You deserved it.”
“For what?”
“For existing near me aggressively.”
“That feels targeted.”
He bumped his shoulder lightly against hers anyway, smearing more sand across her arm.
Y/n groaned. “Johnny.”
“This is your fault now too.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Thank you.”
By the time they reached the outdoor shower beside Cuddledown, the sky had darkened into soft blue twilight.
The wooden boards beneath their feet were still warm from the sun.
Y/n stepped under the water first.
It sputtered violently before turning ice cold.
“Oh my god—”
She jerked back immediately, laughing despite herself.
Johnny grinned from beside her. “That was embarrassing to watch.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re losing a fight against water.”
“It attacked me first.”
Johnny laughed softly before stepping beneath the spray beside her anyway.
Water ran down his shoulders, soaking his curls until they fell into his eyes.
Y/n looked away too slowly.
Johnny noticed immediately.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
The word landed differently than it usually did.
Quieter.
Closer.
For a second neither of them moved.
Water dripped steadily around them while somewhere farther down the beach waves crashed against the shore.
Johnny absently brushed the sand from her bicep where he’d bumped into her moments before.
The touch lingered longer than it should have.
Y/n felt her breath catch before she could stop it.
Johnny’s eyes lifted to hers instantly.
Something shifted.
Not sudden.
Not dramatic.
Just impossible to ignore now.
“Johnny…” she said softly.
His hand slid carefully to her waist like he was testing whether she’d pull away.
She didn’t.
His eyes flicked down toward her mouth before back to her eyes again.
“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.
Y/n’s heart was beating hard enough to hurt.
But the truth had been sitting between them for years already.
Neither of them had just said it out loud before.
“I don’t think I can,” she admitted.
For a second, Johnny just stared at her.
Like he hadn’t actually expected her to say it.
Johnny looked almost surprised by the answer.
Then nervous.
Which somehow made it worse.
Or better.
He lifted one hand slowly, brushing damp hair back from her face before resting his fingers carefully against her cheek.
Tentative.
Like he was still giving her time to change her mind.
Then he kissed her.
Softly at first.
Careful enough that it felt like both of them were holding their breath.
A lifetime of friendship balancing on the edge of something neither of them knew how to survive.
Y/n kissed him back almost immediately.
One of her hands slipped into his wet curls while his moved around her waist, pulling her a little closer beneath the running water.
The kiss deepened slowly after that.
Not rushed.
Just months and years of tension finally unraveling all at once.
Johnny let out a quiet breath against her mouth that almost sounded like a laugh, like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Y/n smiled into the kiss for half a second before kissing him again.
This time Johnny kissed her harder.
Still careful somehow, but less hesitant now.
Like the second he realized she wasn’t pulling away, he forgot how to hold himself back anymore.
One of his hands slid up beside her head against the wooden wall, fingers tangling instinctively with hers for half a second while the other tightened at her waist, pulling her closer beneath the running water.
The water echoed around them, loud enough to drown out everything except their uneven breathing.
Johnny’s mouth drifted from hers to her jaw, pressing a slow kiss there before another just beneath it, lingering for a second against the side of her neck.
Y/n’s breath caught as her head tipped back lightly against the wood, her hands tightening instinctively in his damp curls while Johnny let out a quiet breath against her skin like he was already losing composure.
For a second she felt completely unsteady in his hands, like every thought in her head had dissolved beneath the warmth of his mouth against her neck.
Johnny shifted forward without thinking, nearly losing his footing against the wet wood before catching himself against the wall beside her at the last second.
Both of them broke apart laughing under their breath.
“Smooth,” Y/n whispered.
“Yeah, I had that completely under control.”
“You almost wiped out.”
“I was overwhelmed.”
She shook her head, still smiling, but neither of them moved away this time.
Johnny rested his forehead lightly against hers, both of them still catching their breath.
Water streamed around them, completely forgotten.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted quietly.
Then, almost immediately, he let out a nervous laugh and looked away for a second. “Wow. That sounded significantly cooler in my head.”
Y/n laughed softly, eyes dropping for a moment before finding his again.
“Good,” she said.
Johnny blinked. “Good?”
“Means I’m not the only one.”
That shut him up for maybe the first time in his life.
Afterward, they finished washing the salt and sand off in near silence.
Not awkward.
Not normal either.
Something in between.
Something changed.
And both of them felt it.
By the time they walked back toward Cuddledown, the island had gone quiet around them.
Windows glowed warmly through the trees. Music drifted faintly from somewhere farther down the beach. The air smelled like saltwater and sunscreen and distant smoke from fireworks somewhere across the mainland.
Johnny walked close enough that their hands brushed once. Then again.
Neither of them mentioned it.
When they reached the porch steps, they lingered there longer than necessary, both pretending they didn’t know how to end the night anymore.
“Goodnight,” Y/n said finally.
Johnny nodded once, looking at her like he was still trying to process something.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Night.”
She disappeared inside first.
Johnny stayed outside for another minute after the door closed, ocean wind moving through the trees around him.
Everything felt different now.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The Fourth of July parties on Beechwood had a reputation for getting out of hand.
Mostly because of people like Johnny Sinclair.
Rich college kids poured off boats carrying expensive liquor, laughing too loudly as they stumbled across the beach, the smell of weed, saltwater, sunscreen, and smoke clinging to the humid night air.
The party stretched from Red Gate to Cuddledown in scattered pockets of light and noise. Coolers sat half-buried in the sand while people sprawled across docks, driftwood, and towels damp from the ocean. Music thundered faintly from distant speakers, vibrating through the ground beneath the chaos like another heartbeat.
The beach itself was mostly darkness broken by bonfires flickering in uneven circles, sparklers hissing in restless hands, fireworks cracking open over the water in bursts of red, blue and gold. Farther back on the island, the Sinclair houses watched silently through the trees, porch lights glowing faintly against the dark.
Johnny thrived in places like this.
Drifting between conversations. Laughing too loud. Stealing drinks that weren’t his. Getting pulled into groups he never stayed in for very long.
But his attention kept snapping back to Y/n anyway.
Like it always did.
She stood out to him even here, swallowed by firelight and noise.
Her hair blew loose in the salty wind, sticking briefly to her cheeks before the breeze pulled it free again. A thin white sundress hung over her bikini as she danced barefoot in the sand beside Mirren, flushed and visibly drunk now, laughing hard enough she could barely stay upright.
Johnny smiled without meaning to.
Then he noticed the guy beside her.
A stranger.
One hand resting low on her waist while he leaned down too close to say something in her ear.
Johnny’s expression changed almost immediately.
Beside him, Gat noticed.
“Oh no,” Gat muttered.
Johnny barely looked away from her. “What?”
“You’re staring again.”
“I’m literally just standing here.”
“Yeah,” Gat said dryly. “And somehow you still look homicidal.”
Johnny scoffed, but his jaw tightened anyway.
Down near the shoreline, Y/n burst into laughter at something the guy whispered to her, stumbling slightly as his hands tightened at her waist to steady her.
Johnny went quiet.
Not angry yet.
Just tense in that dangerous, still kind of way.
“Johnny,” Cadence warned from somewhere behind them, already noticing the shift.
But Johnny was already moving.
By the time he reached them, Y/n was still laughing, one hand loosely gripping the guy’s arm to steady herself.
“Hey,” Johnny said, stepping beside her.
Y/n looked up at him slowly. “Johnny.”
“I think you’ve had enough.”
She frowned slightly. “I’m fine.”
“You can barely stand.”
“That’s dramatic.”
Y/n immediately lost her balance trying to turn toward him.
Johnny caught her elbow before she could fall.
The guy beside her laughed. “She’s good, man.”
Johnny’s eyes finally lifted to him fully.
“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I know she is.”
The guy didn’t move his hand from her waist.
If anything, his grip tightened slightly.
Something cold flickered across Johnny’s face.
“She’s coming with me,” he said.
Y/n blinked between them, finally starting to realize something weird was happening.
“She can decide that herself,” the guy shot back.
Johnny laughed once under his breath, but there wasn’t anything amused about it.
“You don’t even know her.”
“And you do?”
Before Johnny could answer, the guy shoved him first.
Hard enough that Y/n stumbled sideways between them.
She hit the sand awkwardly, more startled than hurt.
Everything after that happened too fast.
Johnny barely caught himself before shoving the guy back harder.
The crowd around them erupted instantly. Voices shouting. People turning toward the noise. Music still pounding somewhere farther down the beach like the night hadn’t noticed yet.
“Johnny, stop—”
Gat was already pushing through the crowd as the guy lunged forward again.
Johnny swung first this time.
Not controlled.
Not clean.
Just angry.
The guy stumbled backward into the sand, blood already bright against his mouth before Johnny grabbed at him again.
They crashed hard into the ground, Johnny shoving him back into the sand before landing another hit that snapped the guy’s head sideways.
Someone nearby shouted.
Johnny barely heard it.
Everything had happened too fast after that.
The shove. The crowd suddenly shouting around them. Adrenaline hitting all at once before Johnny could think through any of it.
By the time he hit him again, every sharp rush of anger had already crashed together into something reckless.
The guy tried to shove him off, but Johnny caught the front of his shirt and hit him again, sand sticking to both of them as the other guy’s nose started bleeding harder.
“Johnny—”
“Back off,” Johnny snapped without even looking away.
The guy muttered something under his breath that only made Johnny angrier—“She didn’t look like she was saying no to me”—and Johnny lunged toward him again before two hands finally grabbed hard onto his shoulders.
“Enough,” Gat snapped, dragging him backward before Johnny could swing again.
For a second Johnny resisted.
Still breathing hard. Jaw tight. Eyes locked on the guy like he wasn’t done yet.
Then Cady’s voice cut through everything.
“Johnny.”
He turned immediately.
Y/n was sitting upright now with Cady crouched beside her, sand clinging to her legs and a small cut just above her eyebrow.
Johnny’s expression changed instantly.
The fight stopped mattering.
He pulled away from Gat without another word, dragging one hand through his curls as his breathing slowly steadied.
Behind them, the guy was already being pulled away by his friends, muttering more somethings under his breath while blood dripped from his split lip.
Johnny barely looked at him.
Instead, he walked straight toward Y/n.
Slower this time.
The adrenaline still sat sharp beneath his skin, cuts stinging across his knuckles and cheekbone, but none of it seemed important anymore.
He crouched slightly in front of her.
“You’re going home,” he said.
Not harsh.
Just certain.
Y/n blinked up at him, still dazed enough that her words blurred together slightly. “Johnny, I’m okay—”
“You’re bleeding,” he said quietly.
That shut her up.
Johnny stood, then offered her his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.
This time, Y/n took it.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
They left the beach in silence at first, the noise of the party fading behind them until it became nothing more than distant music and the steady crash of waves.
The path toward Cuddledown cut through darker stretches of sand and wind-tangled grass, everything quieter away from the bonfires.
Y/n drifted slightly off the path after a few steps before correcting herself with a quiet laugh.
Johnny tightened his grip on her hand automatically, steadying her before she could trip again.
“Your face is messed up,” she said after a minute, squinting up at him like she was trying to focus properly.
Johnny let out a tired breath of a laugh. “Yeah? You should see the other guy.”
“That’s not funny.”
The words came out softer than serious.
A few steps later she stumbled again, catching herself against his arm.
Johnny looked over at her.
Then at the uneven sand ahead of them.
Then back at her.
“Okay,” he said finally. “You’re done walking.”
“I am walking.”
“You’re actively losing a fight with the ground.”
“That feels dramatic.”
She nearly tripped again immediately after saying it.
Johnny snorted once under his breath before shifting his grip and lifting her over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
“Johnny—”
“You had your chance.”
She laughed despite herself, one hand loosely gripping the back of his shirt as he kept walking.
“I was doing fine.”
“You almost face-planted three separate times.”
“Allegedly.”
The ocean stretched dark beside them while the trees swayed softly overhead, shadows moving across the narrow path.
After a minute, Y/n’s voice came quieter against his shoulder.
“Your face is still messed up.”
Johnny huffed a laugh. “You seem really focused on that.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are you.”
“I know.” She paused. “Yours looks worse though.”
Johnny adjusted his grip slightly against her legs as he walked.
“The fight?” she asked after another second.
“Mm.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
Y/n lifted her head slightly. “But?”
Johnny exhaled slowly through his nose.
“But I couldn’t stand there and watch him touch you like that.”
The honesty slipped out before he could stop it.
“And then he shoved you.”
His jaw tightened briefly after saying it, like he was trying not to let himself get angry all over again.
Y/n stayed quiet for a second.
“I had it handled,” she mumbled eventually.
“I know,” Johnny said immediately, softer this time. “I know you did.”
The porch light at Cuddledown appeared through the trees ahead of them.
Warm against the dark.
After another few steps, Y/n let out a sleepy laugh.
“Still,” she slurred, “you didn’t have to get yourself beat up over it.”
Johnny smiled faintly to himself, adjusting her slightly higher against his shoulder.
“Probably would’ve done it anyway.”
By the time they reached the porch, the island had gone mostly quiet around them.
Johnny pushed open the front door and finally set her carefully back on her feet inside.
She immediately leaned sideways.
He caught her automatically, hands settling at her waist to steady her while she laughed softly against his shoulder.
Johnny shook his head once.
“You are an actual disaster.”
She smiled tiredly, still leaning against him while he looked down at the small cut above her eyebrow again.
His own lip was split. Knuckles scraped raw. Bruising already darkening along his cheekbone.
None of that seemed to matter to him nearly as much.
Y/n reached up carefully toward the cut near his eyebrow.
“You look worse than me,” she whispered.
Johnny caught her wrist gently before she could press too hard against it.
“You have blood on your face.”
She blinked slowly like she’d forgotten.
“Oh.”
Something in Johnny’s expression softened for half a second.
He moved her arm over his shoulders again.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let me clean that up before you fall asleep standing here.”
She laughed under her breath as he guided her toward the stairs.
The old steps creaked beneath them.
Halfway up, she missed one entirely and stumbled hard enough into him that both of them nearly lost balance.
Johnny caught her quickly, hand tightening at her side.
“Easy.”
She was still smiling against his shoulder like the whole thing was funny.
Johnny tried not to smile back.
“This is deeply inconvenient for me, by the way.”
Her eyes lifted toward him lazily. “You carried me all the way here.”
“Yeah, because your coordination is offensive.”
That got another laugh out of her.
By the time they reached her room, both of them looked exhausted.
Johnny sat her carefully on the edge of the bed before stepping back slightly.
“Stay sitting,” he said. “Please. I’ve had a long night.”
She grinned up at him immediately.
“You love me.”
The words were careless. Automatic. Something she’d probably said a hundred times growing up.
But Johnny froze anyway.
Just for a second.
Then he looked away first, jaw shifting slightly before he forced a crooked smile.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “You make it hard not to.”
Y/n only smiled sleepily at him, too tired to notice the weight behind it.
Johnny stepped backward before he said something worse.
“Don’t move,” he said, already turning toward the door. “I’m getting water.”
From the bed, her voice followed him softly.
“You are the problem, by the way.”
Johnny laughed quietly somewhere down the hallway.
“Still beat his ass, though.”
A few minutes later, Johnny returned with a glass of water and a washcloth draped over one shoulder.
The door shut softly behind him.
Y/n was still exactly where he’d left her, swaying slightly where she sat on the edge of the mattress.
Johnny looked relieved about that for some reason.
“Good,” he said automatically. “You’re still upright.”
He crossed the room and set the water down beside her before crouching slightly in front of her again.
The teasing faded from his face the second he looked at the cut above her eyebrow.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Hold still.”
He tilted her chin up gently with his fingers before pressing the damp cloth carefully against her skin.
Y/n flinched.
Johnny’s expression changed instantly.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I know. Just give me a second.”
And she did.
The room stayed quiet except for the occasional sound of the ocean outside and the soft creak of the house settling around them.
Johnny focused harder than necessary while cleaning the cut, brows pulled together slightly like he could somehow undo the entire night if he concentrated enough.
When he finished, he didn’t pull away immediately.
His eyes flicked over her face once more, checking for anything he missed.
Then he noticed the makeup smudged faintly beneath one of her eyes.
Johnny hesitated.
“Hold on.”
He used the clean corner of the washcloth to wipe gently beneath her eye.
Slow. Careful.
The movement made Y/n’s breathing catch slightly.
Johnny noticed.
That was the problem.
He noticed everything with her.
The room suddenly felt smaller than it had a minute ago.
Too quiet. Too close.
Y/n’s eyes stayed fixed on his face while he worked, softer now, more focused than before.
Johnny cleared his throat quietly and stepped back a little too quickly once he finished.
“Alright,” he said, voice suddenly more casual than before. “Crisis contained.”
Y/n smiled faintly.
Johnny looked away first.
“Where are your pajamas?” he asked, already turning toward her dresser before the silence could settle too heavily between them.
“You always keep them in the same drawer, right?”
She nodded tiredly from the bed.
Johnny opened the drawer and grabbed the oversized tank top and soft sleep shorts she always wore during movie nights.
Then he turned around immediately the second she reached for the hem of her shirt.
Behind him came the rustle of fabric.
Then silence.
Then a loud thud.
Johnny closed his eyes briefly. “Impressive.”
“I’m stuck,” Y/n announced somewhere behind him.
He turned around to find her halfway tangled in the tank top, balancing badly while trying to step into the shorts at the same time.
Johnny laughed despite himself, already walking back over.
“You survived that entire party and this is what takes you out?”
“Help.”
The single exhausted word softened something in him immediately.
Johnny pulled the shirt down properly over her head before steadying her when she nearly tipped sideways again.
A strand of damp hair had fallen across her face, and he reached up without thinking, tucking it gently behind her ear.
“Careful.”
“I am being careful.”
Johnny glanced at her.
“You’re wearing your shorts incorrectly.”
A pause.
“That feels judgmental.”
Johnny snorted quietly, already crouching slightly to help untangle the fabric around her knees.
He didn’t answer that.
Once she was finally changed, he pulled the blankets over her while she settled sleepily into the pillows.
Johnny should’ve left then.
He knew that.
But the second he reached toward the lamp, Y/n’s hand caught loosely around his wrist.
“Stay until I fall asleep.”
She said it like it was obvious he would.
Like there had never really been another option.
Johnny looked down at her for a second without answering.
Then he sighed quietly through his nose and sat back down beside her.
He told himself it was because she was exhausted. Because she’d been drinking. Because someone should probably make sure she didn’t wander downstairs half-asleep later.
Any excuse sounded safer than the truth.
When he finally laid down beside her, keeping what he thought was a reasonable amount of space between them, it lasted maybe three seconds.
Y/n curled against him immediately.
Instinct.
Her head tucked beneath his chin while one hand bunched lightly in the front of his shirt.
Johnny froze for half a heartbeat before his hand moved carefully into her hair, gently working loose a few knots left behind from the ocean wind.
Her breathing slowly evened out after that.
Sleep came easy for her.
Not for him.
Johnny stayed awake long after the room had gone quiet, staring up at the ceiling while the ocean moved faintly outside.
His face hurt. His knuckles stung. There was dried blood still sitting near the corner of his mouth.
None of it seemed important anymore.
Because all he could think about was how naturally she fit against him.
And how dangerously easy it would be to get used to it
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Morning came in pieces — sunlight slipping through the white curtains, the distant crash of waves against the rocks, and the warm summer breeze drifting through the open window.
Along with a headache bad enough to make Y/n groan before she even opened her eyes.
She shifted slightly, immediately realizing two things.
One: she was still in her bed.
She could feel breathing against the back of her shoulder.
Two: someone’s arm was around her waist.
Her eyes flew open.
For one horrible second, her entire body went tense as she realized her best friend was pressed warm against her back, one arm draped lazily over her like this was the most normal thing in the world.
She moved too fast trying to turn around, and Johnny made a sleepy noise behind her before blinking awake.
He looked disoriented for a second, curls a mess, bruises from last night still scattered across his face.
Then his eyes landed on hers.
Y/n stared at him.
“Did we—”
Johnny’s expression changed instantly, immediately understanding where her brain had gone.
“Nothing happened,” he said quickly.
Then, quieter: “You just asked me to stay.”
She let out a breath so dramatic he almost laughed.
Johnny pushed himself up onto one elbow, looking equally offended and amused.
“Wow,” he muttered. “Good morning to you too.”
Y/n buried her face in her pillow for a second. “I just woke up hungover and you were spooning me. You can see where I got concerned.”
That actually made him grin.
“Yeah, because clearly I’m the one who trapped you. You practically turned into a koala the second you fell asleep.”
She narrowed her eyes at him weakly, but it didn’t last long with her head pounding like this.
Johnny noticed immediately.
“You okay?”
“I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“Deserved.”
That earned him a look. “How embarrassing was I last night?”
Johnny hesitated just long enough for her to groan.
“Oh no. That bad?”
He was trying not to laugh now. “You were a little gone.”
Y/n frowned, slowly trying to piece the night back together.
Music. Firelight. Someone pressing another drink into her hand. Laughing too hard at something she couldn’t fully remember.
Then her eyes landed fully on him.
The split lip. The bruising along his cheekbone. His knuckles darkening purple.
Her expression changed instantly.
She forgot her own headache and moved closer before he could stop her, gently taking one of his hands.
“Johnny,” she said quietly. “What happened to you?”
He glanced down like he’d forgotten his face looked like that.
Then it came back in fragments—shouting, someone grabbing at her waist, his own voice sharp enough to cut through the noise.
Her brows pulled together.
“Wait,” she said slowly. “Was there a fight?”
Johnny leaned back against the headboard like it barely mattered.
“It was nothing.”
Y/n looked up at him, not buying it for a second, still holding his hand carefully as she turned it over in hers.
“You’re hurt.”
His mouth almost twitched.
The cut above her eyebrow was still visible, and somehow she was still acting like he was the one who needed taking care of.
“You were bleeding too, remember?”
She ignored that, lifting her hand toward the bruise near his cheek.
Johnny went very still.
Her fingers barely brushed his skin, but he felt it anyway.
“Does this hurt?” she asked softly.
Johnny looked at her for a second before answering.
“No.”
She gave him a look that made it clear she knew he was lying.
He sighed quietly through his nose.
“Some guy got handsy,” he admitted. “You were too drunk to notice. I noticed.”
Y/n blinked.
“You fought him because of me?”
Johnny shrugged, trying for casual and missing it completely.
“He was being an ass.”
A quiet pause settled between them.
She was still holding his hand.
Then, because neither of them knew how to sit in sincerity for very long, Johnny glanced over at her again.
“You know,” he said, “you kept insisting you could walk.”
Y/n frowned immediately. “I could walk.”
Johnny just raised an eyebrow.
She stopped.
“…I couldn’t walk, could I?”
He laughed under his breath. “Not even a little. You nearly fell off the porch steps and got mad at me about it.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “I did not.”
“You absolutely did,” Johnny said, enjoying this way too much now. “You told me I was being dramatic while I was literally holding you upright.”
Y/n covered her face with both hands.
“Please stop talking.”
Johnny grinned lazily against the headboard.
“You also kept insisting your eyebrow wasn’t bleeding while there was very obvious blood on your face.”
She peeked through her fingers, looking genuinely horrified now.
“I hate everything.”
“No,” Johnny said easily. “You were kind of funny.”
She shoved his shoulder weakly.
“You’re awful.”
“And yet,” he said, glancing meaningfully down toward where she was still holding his bruised hand, “you let me stay.”
That shut her up immediately.
Right as a knock sounded against the door.
Neither of them moved.
Then the door swung open and Cadence walked in with Gat right behind her.
Both of them stopped instantly.
Y/n was still sitting close enough that her knee touched Johnny’s, his arm still half-draped behind her from where he’d been lying just minutes before.
And somehow they both immediately looked far guiltier than they should have.
Cady’s eyebrows lifted so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline.
Gat’s grin spread slowly.
“Well,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “This is interesting.”
Johnny immediately pulled his arm back and sat up straighter.
“Shut up.”
That only made Cady grin wider.
“No seriously,” she said. “Should we come back after your secret married life discussion?”
Y/n grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at her.
Cady laughed and ducked out of the way.
“Nothing happened,” Y/n said too quickly.
Gat and Cady exchanged a look that made it worse.
“Hey, no judgment,” Gat said, raising his hands. “We just came to say beach after breakfast. Chicken.”
Johnny rubbed a tired hand over his face.
“You barged in here just to announce shoulder violence?”
“Correct,” Cady said immediately. “Ten minutes. Don’t be weird.”
Then both of them disappeared back out the door still grinning like idiots.
The second it shut, silence filled the room again.
Y/n looked at Johnny.
Johnny looked at Y/n.
And both of them started laughing.
She shook her head while climbing carefully out of bed.
“Great. They’re never letting that go.”
“Never.”
Johnny stood too, stretching slightly before immediately wincing because apparently bruised ribs existed now.
Y/n noticed instantly.
Johnny pointed at her before she could say anything.
“Don’t.”
She rolled her eyes.
Johnny moved toward the door, pausing with one hand on the knob.
“I’m gonna get ready,” he said. “Meet you at the beach?”
She nodded.
Then hesitated.
“Johnny.”
He turned back toward her.
Before she could overthink it, Y/n crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around him in a short, tight hug.
Johnny froze completely.
Her voice came quieter against him.
“Thank you. For last night.”
For carrying her. For staying. For taking care of her. For fighting for her before she’d even realized she needed someone to.
Johnny felt his face go warm almost instantly.
Which annoyed him deeply.
He covered it the only way he knew how.
Johnny wrapped one arm around her long enough to squeeze her back before pulling away and flicking lightly at the side of her head.
“You’re still a pain in the ass, just so you know.”
Y/n smiled at him then — small and soft and real.
The kind she only gave when she meant something and didn’t quite know how to say it out loud.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know.”
Neither of them moved for a second.
Johnny smiled before he could stop himself.
Then he ducked out the door before she could notice how badly that hug had knocked the air out of him, shutting it behind him as he headed down the hallway still grinning like an idiot.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Downstairs at Cuddledown, the kitchen was quiet. Y/n pulled together the easiest thing she could manage—toast and fruit she mostly picked at instead of ate. The house still carried the usual beach-day noise through the open windows: distant laughter, doors slamming somewhere upstairs, someone yelling from outside near the beach path.
She rinsed her plate, went back upstairs, and stood in front of her drawer longer than she should’ve.
Then she reached for her bikini.
The one she wore every summer because it fit best, and definitely not because she’d caught Johnny looking at it enough times over the years that she’d noticed.
Her fingers stayed on the strap a second too long.
It was the same one she’d been wearing in the outdoor shower. The one from that stupid moment she kept trying not to replay—water running around them, his hands laced with hers above her head, the pause before they kissed like neither of them had meant to until it happened.
Y/n pulled it from the drawer, trying not to think about the way he’d looked at her after. Or the party. Or the way he’d carried her home like it was nothing. The way he’d laid beside her last night and stayed when he could’ve left. The way everything between them had felt slightly off ever since—not broken, just shifted enough that she noticed every time he looked at her too long or stood too close.
He’d still teased everyone this morning. Still acted like Johnny. And she was grateful for that, even if they were both pretending harder than usual. Because whatever had changed between them was there now, quiet and impossible to ignore, and neither of them seemed ready to say it out loud.
She shook the thoughts from her head and changed quickly before heading down the path toward the beach.
The second she came into view, all four of them looked up.
Cadence smiled immediately, like she’d been waiting.
Gat looked between her and Johnny, already entertained.
Mirren tilted her head. “I feel like I’ve arrived halfway through a conversation.”
“I’ll fill you in later,” Cady said, grinning.
Johnny was standing knee-deep in the water.
He looked at Y/n once.
Then immediately looked away.
That should not have made her as aware of herself as it did.
“Are we playing or just standing here being weird?” Y/n asked, dropping her towel onto the sand.
“Chicken,” Cady said. “We were waiting.”
Mirren pointed at them all. “I’m referee. Nobody here can be trusted.”
“That’s dramatic,” Johnny said.
“It’s accurate,” Mirren replied.
No one argued.
The teams formed without discussion.
Johnny and Y/n. Cadence and Gat.
The sun warmed their shoulders as Mirren blew an imaginary whistle. “First round: chicken. First to fall loses.”
Johnny’s eyes flickered to Y/n. She met his glance for a heartbeat before he looked away again, shifting in the water.
“Ready?” she called.
Cadence laughed. “Oh, we’re ready.”
Gat smirked. “This is going to be fun.”
Chaos hit instantly.
Water flying. Laughter turning into yelling. Gat nearly going under when Cadence leaned too far laughing. Johnny adjusting instinctively beneath Y/n every time she shifted, his grip steady at her legs without thinking.
Being this close to him made it harder to ignore everything else.
The way he held her. The sound of his breath just beneath her. The way he didn’t let her slip even once.
Then Cadence leaned too far again during a laugh and took Gat with her in a messy crash of limbs and water.
Silence broke for half a second.
Then Mirren threw both arms up. “Winner. Again. You all suck.”
Johnny laughed, still holding Y/n steady as she nearly slipped from laughing too hard.
The game eased out—saltwater, noise, chaos fading.
Johnny crouched so she could climb down.
She slid carefully, but her foot caught uneven sand beneath the water and she wobbled.
She reached for him immediately.
Johnny caught her at the waist without hesitation.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then he grinned.
That familiar reckless one that always meant trouble.
He lifted his hand between them.
Y/n laughed and slapped her palm into his.
The handshake started—same one they’d had since they were kids, half changed every summer.
But before they finished it, Johnny suddenly shifted his grip.
“Johnny—”
Too late.
He dragged her sideways straight into the incoming wave.
Y/n screamed as it crashed over her.
She resurfaced sputtering, pushing wet hair from her face while Johnny doubled over laughing.
She lunged at him immediately.
He tried to back up still laughing, but she caught him around the waist and pulled him down with her.
They went under in a tangle of limbs and saltwater.
When they came up again, both were breathless with laughter.
Gat shook his head. “You two are actually insane.”
Cadence laughed beside him. “You win and immediately start a war.”
Johnny wiped water from his eyes. “You’re just mad you lost.”
He pulled Y/n upright again before another wave hit.
“Gat, you were literally on the losing team,” Y/n said. “You don’t get to comment.”
They started walking back side by side, water dragging at their legs while the others faded behind them.
Johnny bumped his shoulder into hers. Casual.
Then again—slightly more deliberate.
Testing.
She bumped him back.
That was enough for him to grin wider.
By the time they reached the towels and cooler near the sand, Johnny finally let the act of being normal slip just slightly—hands pushing through his wet curls, shaking saltwater loose like he hadn’t spent the whole walk provoking her on purpose.
“You’re soaking everything,” Cadence called after them, dropping onto her towel.
Johnny glanced at Y/n like it was somehow her fault and kicked sand lightly toward her feet. “She started it.”
It wasn’t true. Everyone knew it.
That somehow made it worse.
Y/n scoffed, dropping onto her towel and brushing sand from her legs while Cadence rolled her eyes like this was already getting exhausting.
Gat flopped down beside them, reaching straight into the cooler. “You’re both impossible.”
“Thank you,” Johnny said, like it was a compliment, sitting down beside Y/n in the sand.
Mirren dropped onto her towel with a dramatic sigh. “I need food before I witness any more crimes.”
Cadence immediately leaned forward. “Perfect. Picnic time.”
The cooler popped open, and just like that, the energy softened—chips being passed around, melting popsicles, half-forgotten snacks scattered across towels under the heavy afternoon sun.
Y/n sat with her knees tucked up, picking salt from chips while sand clung to her skin as she dried.
Johnny sat beside her—close enough that their shoulders kept almost brushing whenever either of them shifted, neither moving away from it.
At one point, he bumped her shoulder again as he reached toward the cooler.
Not an accident this time.
She looked at him.
Cadence noticed immediately.
She leaned back on her elbows. “So. Slept well?”
Johnny’s head snapped up. “Don’t start.”
Gat laughed into his soda. “He did. Very cozy, from what I heard.”
Y/n nearly choked.
Mirren sat upright. “What.”
Cadence lit up. “Oh my god—you’re both impossible.”
Johnny groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “No. Stop.”
Mirren ignored him. “Tell me everything.”
Cadence leaned forward, delighted. “Okay, so Johnny spent the night in Y/n’s room.”
Mirren’s jaw dropped.
Gat lost it laughing.
Cadence continued, grinning. “And this morning we walked in and they were still there—just sitting up in bed, completely tangled together, talking like it was the most normal thing in the world.”
Mirren made a sound somewhere between shock and outrage
Johnny immediately scooped up a handful of sand and threw it at Gat.
“It was not like that.”
Gat leaned back laughing harder. “Sure.”
Mirren’s eyes narrowed slowly, like she was solving something. Then she smiled.
“Oh, this is worse. It’s definitely something.”
Y/n threw a chip at her.
“I was drunk,” she said quickly.
Mirren only laughed.
The teasing didn’t stop after that—it stretched across towels, snacks, and sunburned skin until even Johnny gave up denying anything and just started threatening everyone equally.
By sunset, everything had gone quiet in that tired, sun-heavy way.
Cadence stretched out. “Movie night at Cuddledown. Shower first. All of you smell awful.”
Gat groaned. “Your movie choices are criminal.”
“They’re art.”
“They’re all sad,” Johnny said.
“They’re art,” Cadence said. “You’ll survive.”
Johnny looked at Y/n then—just for a second.
The chaos around them kept moving, but he didn’t.
“You coming?”
Simple question.
Still not simple at all.
And when she looked at him, she already knew tonight would feel different too.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
stay tuned for a part 2 on the way VERY soon
thank you for reading!! please like and comment if you enjoyed and dm me if you have any request!
