#this is neither of the stories i started and wanted to get done this weekened

[captainsuke]

seventeen/eighteen

Deran had been on edge lately, in the long stretches between surf comps and missing days, sometimes weeks where Adrian doesn't get to see him because he's too busy with Cody family stuff; Adrian had hoped a day blocked out for surfing would settle things. Maybe even dragging the day into an evening someplace quiet and private. But Deran had been late, his shoulders hitched up and tense like his mother was riding around on his back and that seemed to set the tone for the afternoon.

Deran's emotions are an unstable thing on a good day lately, explosive and dangerous to everyone including himself, and his embarrassment for being late had only served to annoy him more no matter how much Adrian had tried to stress that he was just glad he could make it at all.

Deran had seemed to be smoothing out, or at least calming down enough to enjoy the waves.

There's a few people out today - not so many that it was impossible to catch a wave – but Deran's glaring at a group of older guys, maybe late twenties-early thirties. They keep floating closer and closer to the spot Adrian and Deran have staked out, catching waves that by rights should have been theirs.

Adrian's seriously considering suggesting they pack it in – find that quiet private place and get off handful of times and see if that has any effect on Deran's shitty mood. He doesn't want to deal with this, the posturing and the insults and the fighting, not today. Not when he's supposed to be cheering Deran up, not pissing him off more.

He's paddling back to their spot after catching a wave when he realizes he's left it too late.

Deran's moved closer to the group of men, shoulders braced like he's got his pack of brothers behind him instead of just Adrian too far back to be any good at being back-up.

“Hey fuck you!” Deran's yelling right up in one's face.

“Fuck you too, you little pussy. Get the fuck outta here kid.” The guy shoves at Deran, whose hand shoots out shoves it back away from him.

“Don't fucking-”

a punch

“Hey!” Adrian yells as he fucking finally gets back.

Blood dripping from a split in Deran's lip but he doesn't look anything but annoyed.

“Come on, guys.” One of the friends says, tired.

“He's just kid, Rob.” Another says and Deran stiffens at the words.

The guy, Rob, snorts, looks away, mutters something derisive that Adrian can't hear but Deran makes an angry noise, the guy ignores him and starts paddling for a wave. Deran's face darkens and before Adrian can say anything he's going for the same wave.

They both managed to catch it, but they're too close and the clash before going down in a messy mash of body, waves and boards.

Adrian sees Deran's board fly up, maybe clips him from the way his body jolts, then falls beneath the wave crashing white water.

“Deran? Deran?!” Adrian doesn't know why he's yelling, he can't see anything, the waters too choppy, too foamy to see anything beneath it.

Rob's is paddling back red faced and angry but he looks around, almost worried when he realizes that Deran's not come back up.

Deran's board floats free and he's not coming up. Adrian paddles over to it, corrals it in and checks it over; the leash is intact but Deran's nowhere to be seen.

This can't be happening, Deran can hold his breath for a long fucking time but if he's knocked out that doesn't mean shit. This can't be happening, Adrian thinks, looking around wildly as if he's just not looking hard enough.

A hand shoot out of the ocean, grabbing Rob's wrist, The guy tries to jump back as Deran's head surfaces, and Adrian feels a swell of relief even though there's a dark look in his eyes that makes Adrian shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the wind that's picking up.

He watches as Deran's shoulders shift back as his chest expands, taking several deep breaths before dragging the guy down, both of them disappearing with Rob's high pitched shriek of terror.

There's a long silence as they all just float, Adrian with relief that his idiot best friend hasn't drowned himself, he doesn't particularly care about the other surfer, you start fights on the ocean eventually you're going to come up against someone whose more than ready to hit back. The other surfers seem to be in shock, they're half calling out, half just looking around like they can't believe what just happened.

They're both down for a long time.

Finally the guy pops up out of the ocean some fifty feet away from where they're all floating. He's half crying, half gasping for breath as he swims back to his friends and his board.

Deran surfaces lazily like he doesn't care one way or another if he ever breathes air again.

Seawater's dripping down Deran's face mixing with blood leaving lines of dark pink down the sides of his face, running down to stain the splashes of color on his wetsuit.

There's no more name calling, no bravado. The ocean's gone quiet as the group paddles back to the beach, watching Deran with wild eyes.

“Whose the pussy now?” Deran asks no one. His voice is mean, but not like Adrian's heard before; it's cold and wild, twisted into something unhinged. The look in his eyes as he watches them swim - run – away is no longer a warning, it's a dare, an invitation, begging for a fight, for a chance to prove something.

They stay out for a little longer but neither of them have their hearts in it. Deran's head is still steadily dripping blood and every fresh run of red fills Adrian with worry.

Is he swaying because of the tide, or is he about to drop from a concussion?

Finally, after Deran had bombed out on a particularly easy wave, Adrian decides they need to go in, Deran's just gonna keep getting more and more frustrated, fucking up simple shit and building himself up into a Mood, which Adrian is too tired to deal with on a good day.

“I'm beat, man,” Adrian says, as Deran scowls out at the horizon. “Wanna get something to eat? Chill for a bit?”

Deran looks at him, the two of them bobbing on the waves looking at each other, then he snots an impressive amount of seawater out of his nose, closes his eyes and finally looks as tired as he's no doubt been feeling all day, nodding

“Yeah, a'ight.”

By the time they get to the beach and hit the showers Deran's eyes are drooping in a way that makes Adrian's stomach flip in worry. He grabs Deran by the arm, jerks him around til his heads in the sunlight and maybe Adrian can see where the fuck all the bloods coming from.

“Hey! Ow, what the fuck?” He snaps pulling away, an arm coming up like he's expecting to need to guard himself, “Jesus Christ, what's your fucking problem?”

“I was worried, asshole!” he fires back and Deran's staring at him, mouth open, red spreading across his cheeks and burning the tips of his ears.

Deran shakes his head then drops down on one of the benches with his head bowed. There's a good size cut running through his hair near the crown, but it looks like it's just weeping blood now, not pouring out, maybe its not too deep, maybe it is okay.

Deran lets him fuss for longer than Adrian thinks is usual, so it must hurt some, but he only gets about a two second look at his pupils before Deran's standing up and toweling the last of the water off.

He's a sight with his wetsuit pushed down to his hips but Adrian is for once not just enjoying the view, not with the way he's gingerly trying to dry his hair, the towel coming back a little more red each time.

Adrian's fingers twitch to get another look but he holds off, he can wait til they're back at the house, when they're away from prying eyes.

“You know, Nico got me a video of years Mavericks, we could get take out and watch some real pros.”

Deran throws the towel at Adrian with a laughed fuck you.

“Hey I rode waves at Mavericks.”

“You were in the hospital for two days because you nearly drowned.”

“That was at the end!” Deran defends, “I rode ones before the last one.”

They joke about Deran's ill-fated trip to the big waves as they shove each other towards the scout. Joke like Adrian hadn't spent hours worrying when Craig and Deran hadn't returned from Princeton. When he'd had no way to contact them and he didn't dare go and ask Smurf because he knew Craig and Deran had run off, taken the five hundred mile roadtrip to Half Moon Bay without asking for permission and things were already weird at Casa Cody that month.

Anytime he'd spent at the Cody household lately had already been tense, every conversation between family had been filled with not so subtly hidden barbs and Adrian had to pretend he was too stupid to realize the reason behind all he interpersonal hostility was the lack of high stake heists in the news the last couple of months.

So he'd waited, worried, and when a pale Deran with dark rings around his eyes had come back late, boasting of the waves he'd ridden, the board he'd snapped and the time he'd spent held under by relentless waves, and when Deran was back and okay as he was going to get, Adrian had tucked that worry away . Because he knew the hell Dean would be getting at home, and he wouldn't make it hostile here as well.

Adrian thinks sometimes the only reason he and Deran have stayed so close is that Adrian knows when to push and when to let things go.

He throws the towel back, puts a flick on it so the wet part slaps Deran in the face.

“Fuck you, man.” Deran says, a smile in his voice, throwing the towel in the back of the scout and head towards his pile of clothes in the front seat.

Adrian's settling his board in the back when notices Deran's gone quiet. He looks up to see Deran's head bowed over his phone, fingers white where he's gripping it hard.

Adian doesn't need to ask to know what that's about and he feels a burst of rage. Can't Smurf leave him alone for one fucking day? Is one afternoon too much for Adrian to fucking ask?

He tries to tamp that rage down, be practical, some of their skate crew friends were talking about hitting the waves today, they could be still around to take Adrian home if Deran's gotta cut.

“I can get a ride from one of the guys, if you've gotta go.” Adrian keeps his tone even as he suggests it.

He's not mad at Deran, he tells himself, no matter how much Adrian might wish he'd stand up to his mom. They're still kids and Julia's sudden and complete fall from grace was still fresh enough in everyone's mind. No matter how much Adrian he'd love to see Deran out from under Smurf's thumb, he doesn't know if Deran would survive being cut from his brothers, thrown to the mercy of the world without anything but a propensity for violence and theft.

Deran's carefully blank face crumples for a moment before he pulls it back together. When he looks up he pastes on a grin he obviously isn't feeling, shrugging with an exaggerated I don't care.

“Nah, fuck it, I got time, it's fine.” He says though the way he scratches at his neck as he texts back an answer says that's probably a lie. Adrian let's him have it, sometimes if you said something enough it could become a sort of truth.

The short drive back to the house Adrian shares with Chad is mostly silent, Deran and Adrian both half starting to say something – anything – and then failing, in between the ding of Deran's phone's notifications, the harsh noise making Deran's shoulders pull up tight with tension.

When they finally pull up in front of Adrian's house, Deran swallows a couple of time before finally speaking.

“Sorry, man.” Deran says, his voice sounding rough as he stares straight ahead, like he can't look at Adrian.

“It's okay,” Adrian shrugs, “Give us a call when you can.”

Adrian reaches a hand out but Deran flinches back, shoulders flexing outward like he's trying to pretend he didn't just do it, like he's trying to pull together the posture of someone who didn't give a fuck, like he's not looking around wild eyed like he's somehow impossibly expecting his mom to be hiding outside Adrian's house waiting to catch him acting gay.

Adrian doesn't know how he has the energy for it, all tense muscles and constant self correction, Deran cares so much he makes Adrian tired just watching him try to please everyone while yelling loudly about how he doesn't care.

Adrian sighs and lets it go as Deran looks down at his lap hair falling down to cover his face.

Neither of them say much as Adrian retrieves his board, pats the Scout as he passes behind it.

He calls out a see you as he walks away and gets a grunt in reply.

Out of the corner of his eye, as he unlocks the door, he can see Deran staring at him, a weird almost wistful look on his face. Adrian thinks of turning back, of waving goodbye, of telling him he's a fucking pussy, of stalking back and kissing him in the broad daylight and to hell with everyone and everything.

Instead he lets Deran have his moment of private regret, and swears one day it's gonna be different.