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The beaches out West are a lot colder than Barnaby had expected – windier, too, and it’s only now, at the top of a towering sand dune, that he’s able to open his eyes all the way. Kotetsu took the opportunity earlier to tease him again for his long lashes – told him that they should provide him with pretty good protection from all the airborne sand, ‘and what about those glasses, Bunny – they’re just like a screen!’
They’re not, actually. The fine grains just get caught behind the lenses, and the smooth surfaces might actually be badly scratched at this point.
Still, it’s not all bad. The sun is up, it’s warm, and the squawking cries of shorebirds add a touch of authenticity to the scene. It’s like they’re announcing the arrival of summer – an opportune time for a couple of heroes to take a belated vacation, apparently, and Barnaby actually can’t remember the last time he paid a visit to the ocean.
But was it really necessary for both of them to come together…?
“Ah –!”
The sudden exclamation startles Barnaby out of his reverie, and he whirls around to face his partner. “What – what is it?!”
But Kotetsu doesn’t look nearly as concerned as the blonde had expected him to – sitting in the sand, one knee drawn close to his lightly tanned chest and the other stretched out in front of him, he’s grinning at something far below them – down by the waves, Barnaby thinks, but he’s not entirely sure.
“Hey, Bunny – look, aren’t they cute?” The man points, and his laugh somehow manages to sound a good deal louder than the cacophony of birds, waves, and wind.
Barnaby turns in the direction indicated by the other’s finger, narrows his leaf-green eyes and has to take a moment to figure out just what, exactly, Kotetsu wants him to look at.
“I don’t…”
“There – ” Suddenly joining Barnaby on his feet, his hand warm and rough on the blonde’s shoulder, Kotetsu gestures again.
Barnaby sees, this time, and frowns back at his three-year-old of a partner. Sighs, because that’s usually the most appropriate response to things like this. “What’s the big deal? There are probably thousands of couples on this beach.”
“Aw, come on – you can just feel the youth rolling off of them, right?”
“That’s the wind,” Barnaby snaps, but he can’t deny that that’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Besides, should a middle-aged man really be making such a big deal of a couple of kids? They’ll call the cops on you.”
Kotetsu pouts back at him – “Not like anyone’ll notice, anyway.” – and his gaze wanders back to the pair – running but not making much progress, splashing and laughing and occasionally holding hands.
Is the look in the old man’s eyes supposed to be so… wistful?
“What’s wrong? Starting to feel your age?” Barnaby jokes as he settles down amidst the warm sand. It actually feels pretty nice when it’s not flying at his face from all directions, and he takes a deep breath. Yeah – it’s pretty refreshing, after all. He’s reminded again of how great it is to be able to enjoy simple pleasures like this, and - to be perfectly, completely honest - he really doesn't mind having this idiot with him, after all.
The idiot doesn’t respond for a while, though, and Barnaby finally glances curiously up at him.
It’s a bit hard to tell, of course, because Kotetsu's face is just as sun-darkened as the rest of him, but – a double-take, a triple-take, and Barnaby finally just stares up at his partner – it almost looks like he’s blushing. The blonde follows his gaze and finds that he’s still watching the teens together – kissing, he thinks, and – yes, they’re definitely kissing.
What happens next is a complete anomaly. Kotetsu is supposed to be the impulsive one of the two, but Barnaby doesn’t exactly plan on grabbing his partner’s hand and pulling him back onto the sand.
He doesn’t plan on holding that hand between his own – fingers curled comfortably about the gaps between the other’s – and the glassy surface of the beach.
Doesn’t plan on leaning closer, a fraction of an inch at a time, or on seeing that a wide-eyed Kotetsu has no intention of shying away.
Certainly doesn’t plan on pressing his lips gently to the other’s – and they taste like salt and sand and sunshine, which should make no sense at all…
…but it does, somehow.