#zero cycle

The camera shifts again and for a moment Lando sees more surfboard than ocean. “Hold on for a second. I need to–” Then the entire image jolts violently. For an instant, Lando is convinced Oscar has dropped his phone into the ocean as blue suddenly floods the screen, followed by the greenish-yellow of the surfboard, a flash of sky, and then– Thighs.  Encased in a wetsuit, spread on either side of the board where Oscar is balancing himself, firmly anchored against the movement of the water. Big thighs, too. Strong thighs. The sort that fit the broad shoulders and powerful build Lando already knows about. For one brief, deeply unfortunate moment, his imagination supplies an image entirely unprompted: he imagines those thighs on either side of his own legs, pushing in on him, folding in around him. The thought arrives so suddenly that it almost steals the air from his lungs. The only reason he doesn't immediately turn his facecam off again is because he knows he has to overplay it. Pretend everything is normal. “Wave got you?” he asks eventually, once he trusts his voice to emerge sounding remotely human. Unfortunately, Oscar chooses that exact moment to turn the camera off. Lando follows suit almost immediately, finally allowing himself to bury his face in one of the sofa cushions while he attempts to recover what little remains of his dignity.

Crying.

“You and me.”

Screaming.

“It’s a date.”

Throwing up.