The Coast
The Coast
It took two months before Morgan considered himself and Finn settled. They spent a week in the hotel before they had to move to something cheaper until they found something permanent later in their first month: a house a five minutes’ ride from the beach.
They both easily found jobs—Finn at another skate shop until he could build up enough savings to open his own, and Morgan as a surf instructor. After his summer in Malibu, he had managed to keep a storage locker with the stuff he couldn’t lug home, including a pair of surfboards. After a week spent almost entirely on the water, he had his bearings back. A guy had noticed Morgan and offered him a job almost immediately.
“It’s like riding a bike, Finn, I swear. I forgot how much I missed this,” Morgan had persisted when Finn had come to visit the beach one afternoon and watch. Morgan knew now the happiness Finn had been talking about when he told stories of Malibu.
Sure, they were about as well off as they had been in Salt Lake—which wasn’t saying much—but they were happy, away from everything that had made them both miserable back there.
Their house was further down the coast toward Newport Beach because that was what they could afford, but Morgan had his own bedroom again, so they were both willing to compromise.
The October air in LA was still warmer most of the time than what was expected some days during Salt Lake summers, and the pair spent every free moment at the beach.
-
Morgan had been coming back in from the water to where Finn was sat in one of their folding beach chairs, the other one set up beside him like normal. He dropped his board on the sand beside them and fell into the chair with a huff, yanking off the top of his wet suit so his torso was exposed and the sleeves dangled around his hips.
Finn handed him a bottle of water, keeping his eyes on the ocean in front of him as he sipped from his beer.
They sat for a while, listening to the sounds of the people around them. Morgan had just taken a sip from his water bottle when Finn turned to him and, like a smack in the face, he suddenly really saw Finn. He had seen Finn everyday for the past nine months, but he had been his friend—the person he confided in because he literally had no one else. All of a sudden, he was Finn with his tanned skin and sun-bleached hair, and his amazing smile that had always made Morgan swoon internally but now made him want to do anything to keep that smile on his face. It was one thing to acknowledge that his friend was, yes attractive, but very obviously straight as a pole, but out the fucking window went his sanity when Finn chose to give him his smile at that moment.
He didn’t even think Finn understood what he was doing because his eyebrows furrowed together before he looked away when he saw Morgan choke on his water.
His measly little crush that had been building up since he could really remember at that point suddenly had become a whole different and new kind of problem. Nothing good could come out of this.
-
Morgan understood how fucked up his realization was—Finn was his best friend and the person he was closest to among the few he considered his friends in Los Angeles. Finn had always been quiet about sexuality; he never brought up even the possibility of being anything other than straight, so Morgan assumed.
And Morgan knew what he was doing when he consciously made the decisions to see Finn during the day when they would normally be apart. It was routine to wake up and eat together, then come home and collapse on the couch until one of them passed out after dinner and the other woke him up and put them both to sleep in their rooms. Anything other than that on a weekday never happened unless Finn got off early and he visited the beach before the end of Morgan’s shift.
Morgan honestly didn’t care at that point, though.
He pretended it was normal when he was practically hanging off Finn an entire Friday night that they spent with a couple of their friends. Or when he saw Finn one day take up a spot on the beach while Morgan was at work and then decided it was okay to show off because Finn had been wanting to learn to surf for a few weeks and he was always saying how he wished he had the talent that Morgan did on the water. Or even when Morgan was the one to ditch the second half of his shift because he may or may not have purposefully cracked one of his skateboard’s wheels just so he could go see Finn and get a new set.
If Finn had noticed anything different, which how could he not even Morgan knew he had been pining the past few weeks, he hadn’t said a word about it. If anything, Finn seemed welcoming to the new kind of attention. Morgan couldn’t let that be.
-
Morgan was dozing on the couch at the end of the week when Finn came bursting through the front door of their apartment, startling him awake. Hastily, Finn ditched his shoes and his board by the kitchen’s peninsula that overlooked their living room before he practically collapsed over the back of the couch, settling in the space between the pillows and Morgan’s side. “Hey,” he mumbled against Morgan’s chest, audibly exhausted. Any haze of sleep was gone as Finn’s arm ended up across his waist and before Morgan could process anything, his own arm was pulling itself out from under Finn’s body only to wrap around his shoulders.
Finn’s exhausted, he told himself, let it be.
Within minutes, Morgan could hear Finn’s breathing even out as he completely fell asleep. He should wake him up. He should wake him up and get him into his actual bed before he can let his mind wander any further. Like, sure, they’ve fallen asleep on the couch together. Hell, they’ve slept in the same bed on more than one occasion, but there was something different about this. Morgan had admitted to himself that Finn was it for him, but there was something more. More intimate. More intentional. He was painfully aware of every point that Finn’s body touched his, and how easily Finn had slid himself into this position like it was nothing to him. It probably was. Still, Morgan knew he should wake him up.
Just a few minutes. Finn needed all the sleep he can get, Morgan decided.
-
Morgan couldn’t remember falling asleep in the first place as he stirred awake early the next morning. He wasn’t even sure what woke him up for a moment before he sensed the weight of Finn that was on top of him and the unmistakable scruff of Finn’s beard that had probably been scratching at Morgan’s neck all night. As Morgan woke up further, Finn groaned in protest, his face moving just enough so that his lips were ghosting across the juncture where Morgan’s neck met his jaw and oh shit was Finn awake?
His arms moved of their own accord to wrap around Finn’s back and Morgan could feel the smile spread across Finn’s mouth against his skin. “Mornin',” he rasped out, voice still heavy with sleep.
“Hey,” Morgan managed, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to regain some semblance of control over himself. There was a lull as Morgan waited for Finn to stand up and wander back into his room for a few more hours of sleep, or even move so his fucking face wasn’t jammed into his neck but he did neither. So they simply sat there.
After what felt like an hour of silence between the two, Finn moved away. Morgan sighed, conflicted, but Finn only moved so he was propped up on his elbows, his face hovering above Morgan’s dangerously close. “Hi,” Morgan squeaked.
Finn breathed a laugh, “Hey.” His face took on a more serious expression and Morgan stopped breathing when his eyebrows scrunched together in thought. “Can I kiss you?”
He was pretty sure he was about to explode but instead he nodded and in an instant, Finn had brought up a hand to cradle Morgan’s face and his lips were on his. Morgan had been pining for the better part of a fucking month, and all of a sudden all of his fantasies he had allowed himself about kissing Finn were coming true as his mouth opened up under Finn’s and they continued to kiss. Morgan’s hands tightened in Finn’s shirt that he was pretty sure was actually his as he pulled away, an awestruck look on his face that he couldn’t help as Finn gave a dopey smile right back.
Finn dropped his full weight back onto Morgan, nuzzling his neck once again. All the while, Morgan was trying to comprehend what exactly had just happened. This had to be a dream. “Morgs?”
Morgan pulled his head back to look down at Finn where he was glancing between him and his fingers that had bunched themselves in Morgan’s shirt. “Huh?”
“Make me breakfast?”
Morgan snorted, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Though as he spoke he nudged at Finn until he was off of him so he could stand and move to the kitchen. “Waffles?” he asked from the fridge.
Finn made a noise that Morgan took as agreement so he moved to gather the things he would need as he tried to ignore what had just happened on the couch like it seemed Finn was more than happy to do at this moment. Even if he had instigated the whole situation he remained quiet where he was now sitting up on the couch. “When do you want to head down to the beach?”
“You wanna head down there today? I thought you said you were going skateboarding with that guy from your shop?”
“He bailed on me yesterday. And you promised me you would teach me how to surf a while ago,” Finn responded with a shrug as he got up and went to the kitchen.
“What, so I’m your backup plan?” Morgan quipped only because he knew it would get a rise out of him. Finn shot a glare at Morgan’s back, suddenly yanking him down into a headlock. “Fuck off, I don’t have to make you waffles!” he yelled over both of their laughing. Finn let him go but kept one of his arms around Morgan’s shoulders even if the four inch difference kept him perched on his toes. Morgan realized he was holding his breath when Finn shouldered him enough that they were facing each other and Finn’s arm was pulling him closer. “What?”
“You’ve never been the backup to anyone, you asshole,” he whispered before connecting their lips again.
They both easily found jobs—Finn at another skate shop until he could build up enough savings to open his own, and Morgan as a surf instructor. After his summer in Malibu, he had managed to keep a storage locker with the stuff he couldn’t lug home, including a pair of surfboards. After a week spent almost entirely on the water, he had his bearings back. A guy had noticed Morgan and offered him a job almost immediately.
“It’s like riding a bike, Finn, I swear. I forgot how much I missed this,” Morgan had persisted when Finn had come to visit the beach one afternoon and watch. Morgan knew now the happiness Finn had been talking about when he told stories of Malibu.
Sure, they were about as well off as they had been in Salt Lake—which wasn’t saying much—but they were happy, away from everything that had made them both miserable back there.
Their house was further down the coast toward Newport Beach because that was what they could afford, but Morgan had his own bedroom again, so they were both willing to compromise.
The October air in LA was still warmer most of the time than what was expected some days during Salt Lake summers, and the pair spent every free moment at the beach.
-
Morgan had been coming back in from the water to where Finn was sat in one of their folding beach chairs, the other one set up beside him like normal. He dropped his board on the sand beside them and fell into the chair with a huff, yanking off the top of his wet suit so his torso was exposed and the sleeves dangled around his hips.
Finn handed him a bottle of water, keeping his eyes on the ocean in front of him as he sipped from his beer.
They sat for a while, listening to the sounds of the people around them. Morgan had just taken a sip from his water bottle when Finn turned to him and, like a smack in the face, he suddenly really saw Finn. He had seen Finn everyday for the past nine months, but he had been his friend—the person he confided in because he literally had no one else. All of a sudden, he was Finn with his tanned skin and sun-bleached hair, and his amazing smile that had always made Morgan swoon internally but now made him want to do anything to keep that smile on his face. It was one thing to acknowledge that his friend was, yes attractive, but very obviously straight as a pole, but out the fucking window went his sanity when Finn chose to give him his smile at that moment.
He didn’t even think Finn understood what he was doing because his eyebrows furrowed together before he looked away when he saw Morgan choke on his water.
His measly little crush that had been building up since he could really remember at that point suddenly had become a whole different and new kind of problem. Nothing good could come out of this.
-
Morgan understood how fucked up his realization was—Finn was his best friend and the person he was closest to among the few he considered his friends in Los Angeles. Finn had always been quiet about sexuality; he never brought up even the possibility of being anything other than straight, so Morgan assumed.
And Morgan knew what he was doing when he consciously made the decisions to see Finn during the day when they would normally be apart. It was routine to wake up and eat together, then come home and collapse on the couch until one of them passed out after dinner and the other woke him up and put them both to sleep in their rooms. Anything other than that on a weekday never happened unless Finn got off early and he visited the beach before the end of Morgan’s shift.
Morgan honestly didn’t care at that point, though.
He pretended it was normal when he was practically hanging off Finn an entire Friday night that they spent with a couple of their friends. Or when he saw Finn one day take up a spot on the beach while Morgan was at work and then decided it was okay to show off because Finn had been wanting to learn to surf for a few weeks and he was always saying how he wished he had the talent that Morgan did on the water. Or even when Morgan was the one to ditch the second half of his shift because he may or may not have purposefully cracked one of his skateboard’s wheels just so he could go see Finn and get a new set.
If Finn had noticed anything different, which how could he not even Morgan knew he had been pining the past few weeks, he hadn’t said a word about it. If anything, Finn seemed welcoming to the new kind of attention. Morgan couldn’t let that be.
-
Morgan was dozing on the couch at the end of the week when Finn came bursting through the front door of their apartment, startling him awake. Hastily, Finn ditched his shoes and his board by the kitchen’s peninsula that overlooked their living room before he practically collapsed over the back of the couch, settling in the space between the pillows and Morgan’s side. “Hey,” he mumbled against Morgan’s chest, audibly exhausted. Any haze of sleep was gone as Finn’s arm ended up across his waist and before Morgan could process anything, his own arm was pulling itself out from under Finn’s body only to wrap around his shoulders.
Finn’s exhausted, he told himself, let it be.
Within minutes, Morgan could hear Finn’s breathing even out as he completely fell asleep. He should wake him up. He should wake him up and get him into his actual bed before he can let his mind wander any further. Like, sure, they’ve fallen asleep on the couch together. Hell, they’ve slept in the same bed on more than one occasion, but there was something different about this. Morgan had admitted to himself that Finn was it for him, but there was something more. More intimate. More intentional. He was painfully aware of every point that Finn’s body touched his, and how easily Finn had slid himself into this position like it was nothing to him. It probably was. Still, Morgan knew he should wake him up.
Just a few minutes. Finn needed all the sleep he can get, Morgan decided.
-
Morgan couldn’t remember falling asleep in the first place as he stirred awake early the next morning. He wasn’t even sure what woke him up for a moment before he sensed the weight of Finn that was on top of him and the unmistakable scruff of Finn’s beard that had probably been scratching at Morgan’s neck all night. As Morgan woke up further, Finn groaned in protest, his face moving just enough so that his lips were ghosting across the juncture where Morgan’s neck met his jaw and oh shit was Finn awake?
His arms moved of their own accord to wrap around Finn’s back and Morgan could feel the smile spread across Finn’s mouth against his skin. “Mornin',” he rasped out, voice still heavy with sleep.
“Hey,” Morgan managed, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to regain some semblance of control over himself. There was a lull as Morgan waited for Finn to stand up and wander back into his room for a few more hours of sleep, or even move so his fucking face wasn’t jammed into his neck but he did neither. So they simply sat there.
After what felt like an hour of silence between the two, Finn moved away. Morgan sighed, conflicted, but Finn only moved so he was propped up on his elbows, his face hovering above Morgan’s dangerously close. “Hi,” Morgan squeaked.
Finn breathed a laugh, “Hey.” His face took on a more serious expression and Morgan stopped breathing when his eyebrows scrunched together in thought. “Can I kiss you?”
He was pretty sure he was about to explode but instead he nodded and in an instant, Finn had brought up a hand to cradle Morgan’s face and his lips were on his. Morgan had been pining for the better part of a fucking month, and all of a sudden all of his fantasies he had allowed himself about kissing Finn were coming true as his mouth opened up under Finn’s and they continued to kiss. Morgan’s hands tightened in Finn’s shirt that he was pretty sure was actually his as he pulled away, an awestruck look on his face that he couldn’t help as Finn gave a dopey smile right back.
Finn dropped his full weight back onto Morgan, nuzzling his neck once again. All the while, Morgan was trying to comprehend what exactly had just happened. This had to be a dream. “Morgs?”
Morgan pulled his head back to look down at Finn where he was glancing between him and his fingers that had bunched themselves in Morgan’s shirt. “Huh?”
“Make me breakfast?”
Morgan snorted, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Though as he spoke he nudged at Finn until he was off of him so he could stand and move to the kitchen. “Waffles?” he asked from the fridge.
Finn made a noise that Morgan took as agreement so he moved to gather the things he would need as he tried to ignore what had just happened on the couch like it seemed Finn was more than happy to do at this moment. Even if he had instigated the whole situation he remained quiet where he was now sitting up on the couch. “When do you want to head down to the beach?”
“You wanna head down there today? I thought you said you were going skateboarding with that guy from your shop?”
“He bailed on me yesterday. And you promised me you would teach me how to surf a while ago,” Finn responded with a shrug as he got up and went to the kitchen.
“What, so I’m your backup plan?” Morgan quipped only because he knew it would get a rise out of him. Finn shot a glare at Morgan’s back, suddenly yanking him down into a headlock. “Fuck off, I don’t have to make you waffles!” he yelled over both of their laughing. Finn let him go but kept one of his arms around Morgan’s shoulders even if the four inch difference kept him perched on his toes. Morgan realized he was holding his breath when Finn shouldered him enough that they were facing each other and Finn’s arm was pulling him closer. “What?”
“You’ve never been the backup to anyone, you asshole,” he whispered before connecting their lips again.