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Summery: A "friend" gets too touchy, and Dwayne helps you out. You meet again afterward and start to grow close.
A/n: Reader and readers friends are not surfer Nazis, they are just surfers. Warning: I'm still not good at writing for Dwayne. Bratty Dwayne I repeat bratty Dwayne. Hints of bickers vs surfers bc I love this trope.
Word count: 1.5k
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
"Leave me alone, Jack" You were just trying to mind your own business, watching some of your friends night surf from the boardwalk. You and all your friends decided to have some fun and night surf. It wasn't the safest, with most being a bit drunk and waves being harsher, but that was the fun. You opted out tonight to simply watch your friends wipe out. But Jack had to find you and had to bug you while being way too drunk for this early in the night.
"Come on, sweetheart, you know you'll have a good time" His speech was slurred, and he was unsteady on his feet. In an attempt to stay upright, he leaned on you. His hands come to rest on either side of you, gripping the railing. He puts his weight on top of you, pinning you between himself and the railings.
Unfortunately, Jack got like this regularly. He always ended up tormenting a girl or two in your friend group. Were your friends always the best people? No, but they weren't all bad. Yes, you all picked fights here and there on the boardwalk, but you always had a blast surfing in the California sun.
"Hands off me!" You push him away, but he only ends up putting his weight on you again. You didn't want to start a full blown fight, so you resorted to shoving him over and over while threatening other actions. Could you take him on, Probably not. But he's spooked easily enough, so if you keep giving him treats, he'll back off. Midway through your yelling, he was suddenly pulled away from you.
"Do you have a problem?" The guy spoke in a stern and threatening tone. He had grabbed Jack by his shirt, holding him tight and close. His towering stature over Jack was more than threatening.
You recognized him from one of the biker groups that had beef with a couple of surfers. That beef sometimes trickled over to your friends, making you not have the best view of them. And yet he was helping you.
"nah nah, man, we're good" Jack attempted to de-escalate the situation.Although his voice came on way too scared and shaky for his liking.
"Great, then go." He shoves Jack backward away from the both of you.
"No way me and my girl-" Jack takes a step closer to you, trying to play cool and not totally drunk off his ass.
"She doesn't seem like your girl" He pushes him by the shoulder harder than before. Causing Jack to stumble back a few steps.
"Ow fine, fine, whatever, man" Jack slurs out as he walks away, feeling defeated and with a lightly bruised ego. In your still confused state you didn't realize he was walking away until he was a couple of feet away.
"Hey, thanks!" You yell out to him before he gets too far. But he paid no attention to you, he didn't even turn around or miss a step. He simply kept on walking.
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
Later that night you continued to watch your friends out on the waves as you stayed on the shore watching them. You sat on the sand while drinking away at some beer. Now and then, peeking over at everybody's stuff back on the steps that went up to the boardwalk. to make sure nobody snatched anything. A couple of times you spot the same guy who had saved you earlier walking by. It was hard not to stare as he passed.
His long dark hair and basically perfect features made him look like he stepped out of a magazine. And his leather jacket with a jaguar painted on the left arm sleeve added on to his effortlessly cool aesthetic. Your eyes only lingered longer at the glimpse of his totally exposed toned body under the jacket. Eventually you did tear your gaze away, not wanting to be creepy.
When you do eventually turn back again, you see him rummaging through your stuff. You got the hint he wasn't actually trying to steal because if he was, he could have grabbed at least 2 bags and ran. So you got up and started to make your way to him. As you got closer, you could see him digging through the cooler. When you finally got close enough, you called out to him.
"You didn't give me your name?"
"Hey! Tall, dark, and handsome. If you wanted to steal some, you could have just asked" You take off the towels covering the case of beer. The cooler he was looking through was more of a decoy in case security got nosy. You take one out and open the bottle before coming to stand in front of him.
"Tall, dark, and handsome?"
"...Dwayne"
"Ok, Dwayne, dark and handsome." You finally hand him the bottle. He swiped it from your hands with a smirk on his face, amused by your nickname for him.
"Seriously"
"You didn't give me your last or middle name." He lets out a huff of laughter before taking a swig of his drink.
"Thanks by the way. I said it before, but I don't think you heard me"
"I heard you."
"So you just like ignoring girls."
"Only the ones not worth my time." He continues to drink as if his comment didn't come off as rude.
"Excuse me?" His words didn't offend you. You took it more as a sign you didn't have a chance with him.
"Are you worth my time?" He tilted his head slightly, interested in what your response would be.
"I just gave you free beer."
"You can always get my attention with free shit."
"Hm...come on then." Grabbing the case of beer, you walk up the stairs back to the boardwalk.
"Aren't those for your friends?" He asked as he started to trail behind you.
"Yeah well, they pissed me off."
"Pissing people off and getting free shit, you're far more interesting than I thought." He caught up to you as he started to match your stride. You both fall into a comfortable silence as you walk together, taking a turn toward the less crowded pier.
Walking with Dwayne was a nice change of pace. Most of the time your friends were always loud and rowdy about everything. Always trying to find a way to get a high, whether literally or metaphorically. But even just walking with Dwayne, he felt more steady as a person. You've had a certain picture of him and his friends being some asshole bickers. But tonight Dwayne had shown you a glimpse of who he actually is.
Once you get to the end of the pier, you take a seat with your feet dangling off the edge. Dwayne takes a seat next to you, looking out to the waves.
"There's a bonfire later tonight if you want to come and piss more people off." You broke the silence with an invite to the bonfire.
"Ya, don't go to that." Dwayne doesn't even look at you or further explain.
"Why not?" You were met with silence. He could have just said no, but instead he told you not to go either. You look at him with confusion.
"Your friends are just straight up jackasses, I don't know why you hang around them." He finally came up with a believable answer. It's not like he could tell you the truth that he and his friends were going to feed on that group later tonight.
"I've been told the same about your friends."
"We aren't jackasses." Almost on cue, you both heard yelling and turned to look at the beach and saw Marko and Paul riding by on their dirtbikes around people. The bikes kicked up a bunch of sand, landing on people walking by and all their stuff. Before you could comment on their action, Dwayne speaks.
"I didn't say they weren't jerks." You give a hum in response before turning back to him.
"If I don't hang out with my friends, then who?"
"Me. I'm leagues ahead of them in more ways than one." He leans in closer to you as his eyes study your face. You leaned closer to him to test out the waters. He brought his hand to your chin to pull you into a kiss. His lips tasted like the beer you two drank and a hint of something metallic. His hand trails down to rest on the back of your neck. His cold touch sent a shiver down your spine. But you eagerly still lean into the kiss. Everything felt too slow, like nothing else mattered.
Every part you felt like it was heating up against his unnaturally cold skin. He breaks away from the kiss, moving from your lips to your neck. Your hands come up to entangle with his surprisingly smooth and slightly tangled hair. Dwayne's kisses started off gentle but progressively got rougher. When he started to bite a bit, it was when a small sound escaped your throat.
"If you tell me to stop, I'll stop" He pulls away, looking up to you.
"Please don't stop" He smirks before moving back to your neck.
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Well — quiet for the vampire den tucked beneath the cliffs of Santa Carla.
The distant crash of waves echoed through the tunnels while candlelight flickered softly against the stone walls, casting everything gold and warm. Dwayne sat stretched out on the old couch near the back of the cave, one arm draped lazily around your waist while you rested against his chest.
A half-finished bottle of wine sat abandoned on the table nearby.
You traced absentminded patterns over the rings on his fingers while he played with strands of your hair.
Neither of you had spoken in several minutes.
Not because anything was wrong.
Just because being around Dwayne had always been strangely easy.
“You’re staring again,” you murmured.
“I know.”
You smiled without looking up. “Creepy.”
His chest rumbled softly with a laugh.
Dwayne tilted his head down slightly, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you. Even after all this time, his attention still made your stomach flutter embarrassingly fast.
“You’re comfortable,” he said simply.
“As opposed to?”
“Everyone else.”
You snorted. “That sounds vaguely insulting.”
“It wasn’t.”
You looked up then, meeting those dark, impossibly soft eyes of his.
God.
Dwayne never talked much about how he felt, which made moments like this hit twice as hard.
“You’re comfortable too,” you admitted quietly.
A smug little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I know.”
“Oh, shut up.”
He grinned properly this time — rare enough on its own — before leaning down to kiss you.
Slow.
Lazy.
The kind of kiss that didn’t need urgency behind it.
One of his hands slid along your jaw while yours curled loosely into the front of his shirt. The world melted away into warmth and candlelight and the familiar scent of leather and smoke clinging to him.
Then—
“OH COME ON.”
You jumped apart instantly.
Paul stood near the cave entrance looking personally offended, arms spread dramatically while Marko cackled beside him carrying several greasy bags of boardwalk food.
“Are you serious?” Paul groaned loudly. “I’m traumatized.”
“You literally flirt with anything that breathes,” you shot back.
“Yeah, but I don’t wanna see him happy.”
Marko nearly doubled over laughing.
Behind them, David wandered into the cave carrying his bottle of Chinese takeout completely unbothered.
He took one glance at you half-curled in Dwayne’s lap.
Then at Dwayne.
Then sighed.
“Finally,” David muttered. “Thought you two were gonna keep doing that weird longing stare thing forever.”
You blinked. “You noticed that?”
“All of us noticed that,” Marko said immediately.
Paul pointed accusingly. “It was disgusting. Every night it was all—” he clasped his hands dramatically to his chest and stared at Marko with fake intensity, “‘Y/N… pass me the bottle.’”
Marko burst into hysterics while Paul continued, “‘Dwayne… are you cold?’”
“I do not sound like that,” you argued.
“You totally do,” Paul said.
Dwayne, meanwhile, looked entirely unbothered by the chaos unfolding around him. One hand still rested casually on your hip like he refused to acknowledge the interruption at all.
Marko tossed a bag of fries toward the couch. “Anyway, lovebirds, we brought food.”
“You stole food,” David corrected flatly.
Paul gasped dramatically. “David, that is such an ugly accusation.”
“You paid for none of this.”
“Okay but in my defense,” Paul said seriously, “capitalism is oppressive.”
You laughed so suddenly you snorted.
The entire cave went silent.
Paul immediately pointed at you. “I heard that.”
“Oh my god.”
Marko collapsed against the wall wheezing while even David looked mildly entertained now.
Dwayne looked down at you with the softest expression imaginable, thumb brushing gently across your side.
“There it is again,” Paul complained.
“What?”
“That look.” He gagged theatrically. “He’s doing the look.”
“You’re jealous,” you teased.
“Damn right I am. Nobody looks at me like that.”
Marko patted his shoulder. “Tragic.”
Dwayne ignored all of them completely.
His forehead rested lightly against yours while the others bickered in the background over stolen fries and who ate the last chili dog.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Your heart melted a little.
“I’m perfect.”
He smiled softly before kissing you again anyway — slower this time, sweeter.
