time to take a stroll

[formercheerio]

Who: Quinn + EVERYBODY
Where: The beach
When: June 25
Rating: --
Summary: Quinn announced a beach party on the network. Or just a get together. Bring your own whatever you want to do. Mingle mingle mingle

Comments

[monopolies]

Squealing in surprise at the ice water he's suddenly drenched in, America spins around ready to either shove or hug his aggressor. Seeing his roasted boyfriend his face splits into a wide grin and he goes for the second option. (Besides, the cold is starting to feel kinda good, and maybe dampening Luke's clothes will cool him down before he boils alive.)

"There ya are! I didn't have no one to dress me proper, get me the right hoodies and hi-tops, so I had to make do on my own. And boy did I make a stellar choice."

Winking, he pulls back to get a full view of Luke's beach attire. It looks a lot like his normal attire. Sure, he's from an era where it's the norm to socialize in overly stuffy clothing, but c'mon. There's no need for fancy pretenses here in Wonderland; their society is a mishmash and few fucks are given to showing some skin.

"Yeesh, ain't you hot in that? Don't even wanna take the sweater off?"

He tugs playfully at the hem of the cardigan, pulling Luke closer in a gesture equally intimate as it is teasing him for his fashion choices. The irony.

[alwaysnext]

Luke squirms throughout the hug. Like, ugh, America, he didn’t come to the beach to get wet. Just like he didn’t come to the beach to show any skin. If he gives in to boardshorts, it’s only a short step to a tanktop, and that’s one drenching away from every contour on his body being on show.

“Maybe I put it on so you can take it off,” he teases, coaxed forwards-backwards into the space between their bodies. He holds America's forearms and pecks him on the lips. "Just like I'm hoping you did with those unicorn things."

[monopolies]

Closing the distance between them with small movements and a chaste kiss feels cozy. Maybe even better than the thrill that zips up his spine at Luke's flirting. A pleased noise slips out as his hands wander up to play with the buttons to see just how earnest Luke is about his undressing suggestion. Getting naked on the beach may not be on the agenda for either of them (though America doesn't have enough shame anymore to object to such a plan) but surely Luke wouldn't mind an outer layer getting stripped off, would he? For comfort. That's what America tells himself.

"Ya got me! But I got a whole lot less layers hidin' my skin. Not exactly fair that you're only one itty bitty strip of fabric away from the goods when you're all buttoned up like... well, like someone from my era!"

He snorts even through a twinge of sympathy. So many decades of wool uniforms in blistering heat, so many times he's collapsed from heat stroke. Well not today.

[alwaysnext]

After a year of dating, Luke’s still not past that moment where his skin goes all tight and tingly at light grazes. He licks his lips, a trap invite to kissing because they taste of salt and chemicals, and then presses the back of his hands behind his arse, limbs opening up as he pushes his chest out. A flash of teeth encourages him to get a move on.

“Why don’t you put on whatever I take off? Then it’ll be fair when I do you.”

With the added benefit that his cardigan is long enough so no one will see this shame. His voice drops to a breathy whisper, partially due to dizziness. Stuffing yourself into long sleeves and jeans tight enough to scrape your hipbones is a bit foolish on a hot summer day, but Luke wouldn’t be English if he wasn’t permanently unprepared for the weather.

But the bigger headrush is just having an intimate conversation surrounded by dozens of of people, all of whom can see America’s hands straying into friendly territory. Nothing salacious, obviously, but this is the first time in public where they haven’t been careful to maintain an impersonal distance. Only the very dense could think they aren’t a couple.