Endless Summer Part 12
All's Fair in Love and Surfing
/ He can't win. /
Duo was lying on the sand, lying next to Heero with Baka's wet head resting on his stomach. All three of them were collapsed in that exhausted, can't move condition commonly known as noodled. They had been surfing for hours, until finally Duo had cried off and was surprised to find that Heero was just as tired as he was. His lover, it had seemed, was tireless when it came to things like practice.
A week since it had come out into the open. A week since he had begged Heero not to compete and spoke of Shinigami with an attack of the screaming terrors that bordered hysteria.
For a night or two, the nightmares had come back. Heero had comforted him then, and even when he didn't need it. The nightmares eventually faded. And since then, it had not been mentioned. They both ignored it, opting instead on concentrating on the task at hand... which was surfing. The surfing competition. And the winner thereof.
It had been established. The boundaries of their relationship were set. Off the beach, they were friends. In the house, they were lovers. And on the beach, they played the part of the bitter rivals that everyone expected them to be. And Heero suddenly found himself enjoying the role as he caught the mischievous, wanting gaze under Duo's posed glares and huffing bravado.
Heero didn't mention Duo's reputation. Duo didn't touch on Heero's past. Duo's reaction to Heero's push was enough to tell him that it was soon... way too soon. And the power of Duo's terror had scared him. So enfolded in tragic mystery, they just clung closer to each other, pushing it all away.
And they sparred to win. All's fair in love and surfing. Duo was representing Baja, California. Heero represented North Shore. Relena... South Shore. And Trowa was surfing for Hilo.
They hadn't seen Trowa in days, so who knew where he was practicing, or if he was practicing at all. Neither of them considered him a major threat. As for Relena, Heero said, she was a great surfer... for a wahine.
So they concentrated on their greatest threat. Each other.
Duo liked Heero... thought he might even be falling in love with the Japanese boy, one smile at a time... but he sure as hell didn't like to lose. And if he had to compete, he was just like Heero... he played to win.
And for once, he wasn't alone. He was slowly learning how to have fun at it again. That contests didn't have to be something to worry about.
So they practiced, sticking to the local, lesser-known beaches like Ponderosa Point, rather than practicing right out on the Pipeline where everyone could watch them. And the closer competition came, the more they watched each other, dancing around each other like fencers in a duel, purposely showing each other their best moves, shooting each other challenging glances, muscles flexing with much macho shin-kicking schoolyard showing off. But running beneath it was a passion that made their relationship that much more intense for all the rivalry.
Looking over at Heero now, after hours of watching the Japanese boy surf, Duo thought he knew the outcome of the competition already. It wasn't that the others didn't have a chance... it was just that he knew his own abilities. And Heero had simply been out of the circuit for too long. Duo wasn't overly confident... it was just the facts. He was the most skilled in the contest... he was going to win. That was all there was to it.
Unfortunately, five minutes before he dozed off on the sand, Heero had been thinking the exact same thing.
Duo looked over at Heero for a moment, memorizing the soft angles of the boy's face. Heero was completely relaxed in exhaustion, soaked from the sea, wet swim trunks clinging to his hips, face slack, lips slightly parted, hands curled loosely on the sand. Gorgeous.
Duo closed his eyes, about to sink into the content, weary state Heero was dozing in. The sun was warm, the surf was high, and competition was the day after tomorrow. Life was good.
A little sound came from behind them, and Baka's head came up from Duo's stomach, a deep growl rumbling from his throat. The usually friendly dog lifted his lip in a terrible snarl, displaying sharp white teeth.
"Is he still breathing? Claim another victim, Reaper?" A cheerfully cruel voice cut through the air, right before a sound that infuriated Heero and drove the Japanese boy to his feet, blue eyes blazing. That small noise again. It was the sound of a shutter-click. The sound of a camera.
"Smile for the birdy, Yuy," Walker said cheerfully, taking another picture of them. The two of them. Together.
"Chill out, Baka," Duo whispered, putting his hand on the dog's head. The dog stopped snarling, but that low growl continued like the purr of a boat motor.
"I'm going to break that camera. And then I'm going to break your nose." Heero's voice was not angry. It was simply sure and cold, as if there was no question about what he was going to do.
"I'll call the police," Walker warned, taking another picture even as he was backing away and Heero was stalking towards him.
"Me first," Duo hissed, standing up next to Heero. The two angry surfers and one angry dog stood the reporter down.
"I'm so glad you've decided to compete, Heartless. You're the talk of the town. And you're a little buddy-buddy with the competition, don't you think? Sleeping with the enemy, maybe?" Another shutter-click.
Heero lunged, catching Walker by the shirtfront with a strength Duo had not yet had the pleasure of witnessing. There was nothing tender about Heero now. He was all hard business.
The camera was plucked from Walker's hands.
"Hey you son of a bitch! That belongs to The Atoll!"
Heero shoved Walker away, then flung the camera into the ocean. Duo laughed at the satisfied expression on Heero's face, and the stricken one on Walker's.
"Then they can ride out with some divers and pick it up, hn?"
"You're a fucking bastard, Yuy!"
Heero raised an eyebrow at the reporter, then smiled as sweetly as Duo had ever seen him. "They don't call me Heartless for nothing."
He pulled Duo to him for a kiss. Duo, surprised by the public display of affection that they had been trying to avoid because of reporters like this jerk, didn't protest for very long. He was tense one second and melting the next, although from the hot Hawaiian sun or Heero's lips, he couldn't tell and really didn't care. His arms wrapped around Heero's neck as he sank into Heero's embrace.
Walker gaped. Two of the greatest surfers in the world, the surfing world's two biggest rivals together in Oahu and in a relationship with one another days before the Billabong Pro. Rivals and lovers. This was his story, and now he couldn't get it. No one was going to believe him without proof.
Heero broke the kiss gently, then looked at Walker with a tranquil, pacific calm as he slipped his hand into Duo's, their fingers intertwining comfortably as they both grabbed their surfboards and started to walk away.
Heero couldn't resist one more shot over his shoulder as they left.
"Too bad you didn't have your camera with you, Walker. Very unprofessional."
~*~
As they walked back in the early dusk, Baka trotting at Heero's side, Duo laughed again, seemingly out of nowhere. "You didn't have to thrash the guy's camera, Heero..." he scolded, still laughing. "He's just a reporter. Just doin' his job."
"I know him personally. We went to high-school together. I didn't break his camera because he's a reporter." Heero's fingers tightened in Duo's.
"Then why'd you do it?"
Heero smiled a little. "Because he's an asshole."
They were silent for awhile, just walking down the beach hand in hand, letting surf wash over their feet as they carried their boards back to the house.
When they reached the house, Trowa was sprawled on the front porch swing asleep, tanned legs hanging over the edge, arms folded behind his head, a scuba mask resting on his chest. The rest of his scuba gear was propped up in the corner of the porch next to a potted palm.
Heero kicked him gently in the foot as they leaned their boards up against the side of the screened-in porch, and lazy catlike green eyes gazed up at him disdainfully.
"... What was that for?"
Heero raised an eye at him. "For someone who is competing in a pro surfing competition against the likes of us, you sure do spend a lot of time sleeping and swimming with sharks." He glanced at Duo. "I'm going to catch a quick shower, then head to the workshop for awhile."
Duo nodded at Heero absently as he went into the house, then looked back at Trowa, his expression incredulous. "Sharks?"
The quiet boy smiled at Duo. "It's all right... Sharks don't want to hurt people."
"Oh?"
"Right. They just want to eat them."
Duo swallowed, and Trowa laughed at the expression on his face. "... Just kidding."
Duo sat down on the porch and leaned up against the side of the house, watching the green-eyed boy rock lazily in the swing, arm dangling over the side. Trowa didn't look like the kind of guy who would do any such thing as swimming with sharks. "Why do you do it, Trowa?"
Trowa looked over at him seriously. "Have you ever looked into a shark's eyes?"
"I happen to be of the humble opinion that if you're close enough to see a shark's eyes, you're too damned close."
Trowa laughed. "... I'll take you to swim with them sometime. You'll see."
"Thanks, Tro, but no thanks. I don't like to swim with anything higher than me in the foodchain."
"You swim with Heero," Trowa replied, a knowing smile on his face.
Duo looked at him sharply. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"
Trowa shrugged. "Nothing. Everything. Just depends on how you look at it."
Baka came up onto the porch after them and shook himself, spraying them with seawater. Duo brought up a hand to shield himself, but Trowa just closed his eyes passively, taking it.
"Geez, furface! Couldn't you have done that on the beach!?"
Baka chuffed amiably and settled across Duo's lap, licking his fingers. In the house, Duo could hear the shower start. Duo petted the dog absently for a few moments, then looked at Trowa again. "Where's Quatre? I thought you guys were attached at the hip."
Trowa looked at him, smiling a little again. "Quatre doesn't like sharks, either. He's with Catherine." He smiled a little. "You don't have to be 'attached at the hip' to love someone."
Duo smiled back. "So you do love him, huh?"
"Yes."
"How did you guys meet up?"
Trowa blinked in surprise. "Surfing. Of course."
"So was it a love-at-first-sight kind of thing?"
Trowa laughed softly, leaning back against the arm of the swing. "No... It was more like a 'Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my beach?' sort of thing. We hated each other. I love to compete, and I love to win... but Quatre would never fight. He would never even try. Quatre is the kind of person who feels better throwing a game than beating someone else. We used to compete against each other in the local contests, and he would just let me win. It pissed me off."
Duo scowled a little. "Then how come you guys are... you know... like you are now?" Trowa laughed again. "I don't know... I really don't remember. After awhile, we just realized that fighting and competing and hating each other took too much energy. We just fit together... we're two pieces of the same stone."
Duo crossed his arms over his knees, looking out over the ocean. "You know, you Hawaiian guys are really as bad as a kung-fu movie, right? A dude just tries to have a simple conversation, and you guys go all Zenny on me. Or do that little French shrug thing. Or maybe it's just you. I haven't figured it all out yet. I would think that would be Wufei's job."
"Hawaii is enlightening."
"So they say."
Heero came out in a fresh pair of shorts and nothing else, his hair in wet clumps on his head, bare feet plodding gracefully on the wooden floorboards. He ran his hand over Duo's head in an absently possessive touch, tracing a finger down the Californian's ear, and Duo had to fight not to shiver at that touch. It was almost an unspoken promise. He looked over to see Trowa watching them cautiously.
Heero's voice was soft and tranquil. "I'm going out to the workshop. There's hamburger in the kitchen if you want to cook something."
"Yeah, I'll do that. You cooked last night."
Both of them watched Heero head off the porch and around the side of the house to the workshop. Baka got up and followed Heero out.
After a moment of silence, Trowa spoke again. "So, you guys are serious?"
Duo blushed. "Well... yeah. I guess we are. I don't know how it all happened, really. How'd you know?"
Trowa smiled a little. "Heero isn't exactly keeping it on the down-low, is he? He never was a subtle guy. Besides... everybody knows about it. You could try and hide it, but it's hard to keep secrets on an island."
Duo remembered the reporter from earlier in the day. / Tell me about it. /
"Yeah, maybe. So, what do you think?"
"I think swimming with sharks is less dangerous."
Suddenly, in the near-twilight, Duo saw a figure was running up the beach towards them. A shock of wet blond hair, short stature, Duo knew exactly who it was. He waved a hand in greeting. "Heya! Quatre!"
Trowa sat up on the swing, looking out over the beach. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at his lover, and he got to his feet. "Something's wrong..."
"What?"
Trowa met Duo's gaze for a second before opening the porch door. "His board... he doesn't have his board. Something's happened."
The two of them ran out to meet the blonde. Quatre stopped, doubled over, trying to catch his breath.
"What's wrong?" Trowa put his hand on Quatre's shoulder.
Quatre straightened up, still breathing in ragged gasps, and met Trowa's gaze. The blonde's expression was grim.
"There's been a drowning at Pipeline."
TBC...
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