riptide_asylum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riptide_asylum) wrote2012-10-09 11:50 am
riptide_asylum) wrote2012-10-09 11:50 am
Entry tags:
"Who Really Watches Who Watches the Sunset?" (Out of the Dark, 1986)
Title: Who Really Watches Who Watches the Sunset?
Rating: PG
Summary: When sun meets ocean.
The two of them sat together outside the wheelhouse. Neither of them spoke.
Out on the horizon, the sun was slowly boiling into the ocean, red as fire, red as lust and heat and mayhem. Heat waves made it shimmer. The ocean sat in a long gray line, placid and calm and waiting, like it did every evening, for the sun’s exhaustion.
Nick looked over at Cody, long-legged and calm and thoughtful, a beer hanging loosely from one hand. The wind ruffled Cody’s hair but he just sat there not quite squinting out across the water.
They could be fucking right now, Nick thought. They could be making out, or getting pizza, working on the Mimi or reading the paper together. They could be playing Scrabble or bumper cars or flicking straw wrappers at each other across the table while their dates rolled their eyes and cracked their gum. It had happened.
Nick frowned. They could also be being shot at, in a bar fight or a car chase or that industrial espionage crap from a few weeks back that still made Nick’s ribs ache if he leaned too far to the right. They could be separated, or in jail. They could be back in the heat of the jungle, pinned down by enemy fire or wiping other soldiers’ brains off their cheeks, out of their hair.
The pressure of Cody’s knee against his own brought Nick back just like it always did, and he looked over to find Cody asking a soft question with his eyes. By way of answer Nick took the beer from Cody’s hand and took a long drink, eyes locked on his partner, then gave it back.
Cody grinned softly and returned his attention to the sunset, chest rising slowly up and down in the warm, sweet evening. The sun sank lower in the sky and Nick left his knee pressed up against Cody’s own.
Rating: PG
Summary: When sun meets ocean.
The two of them sat together outside the wheelhouse. Neither of them spoke.
Out on the horizon, the sun was slowly boiling into the ocean, red as fire, red as lust and heat and mayhem. Heat waves made it shimmer. The ocean sat in a long gray line, placid and calm and waiting, like it did every evening, for the sun’s exhaustion.
Nick looked over at Cody, long-legged and calm and thoughtful, a beer hanging loosely from one hand. The wind ruffled Cody’s hair but he just sat there not quite squinting out across the water.
They could be fucking right now, Nick thought. They could be making out, or getting pizza, working on the Mimi or reading the paper together. They could be playing Scrabble or bumper cars or flicking straw wrappers at each other across the table while their dates rolled their eyes and cracked their gum. It had happened.
Nick frowned. They could also be being shot at, in a bar fight or a car chase or that industrial espionage crap from a few weeks back that still made Nick’s ribs ache if he leaned too far to the right. They could be separated, or in jail. They could be back in the heat of the jungle, pinned down by enemy fire or wiping other soldiers’ brains off their cheeks, out of their hair.
The pressure of Cody’s knee against his own brought Nick back just like it always did, and he looked over to find Cody asking a soft question with his eyes. By way of answer Nick took the beer from Cody’s hand and took a long drink, eyes locked on his partner, then gave it back.
Cody grinned softly and returned his attention to the sunset, chest rising slowly up and down in the warm, sweet evening. The sun sank lower in the sky and Nick left his knee pressed up against Cody’s own.