moving day | Heeseung x Jay

twenty

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"We'll start with the smaller waves, and as you guys get better, we can try to surf bigger breaks," Niki's father had said as he'd led Heeseung, Sunghoon, Niki, and Jay out into the water. They'd already learned proper form and practiced paddling on the sand. It'd felt stupid at first, but Niki kept making jokes, and the surfing lesson flew by.

Jay had clutched his board as they'd paddled out into the surf, Sunghoon a solid presence beside him as the water lapped at his toes and trickled down his back with every playful splash sent his way by Heeseung.

The waves had been decent, and while it was evident that they were beginners, Niki's father had told the boys that they were fast learners and that he was proud of them.

The currents had been working in their favor, and when they'd begun to tire, Niki's father had told them to catch one last wave before making their way back to the shore. Sunghoon and Niki had gone ahead, successful and whooping as they rode their way back to shore.

Heeseung had been ahead of Jay and about to catch a wave of his own. Jay had cheered him on and pumped his fist in the air as Heeseung stood, his form the best it had been. A grand finale, Jay had thought, nothing but the best for the best.

He'd waited and waited to catch a wave, but the wind had picked up, and the salt in his hair hadn't felt as refreshing when it was in his eyes and mouth. He had wondered how he'd be able to untangle his hair as he kept missing pivotal swells.

The tide had been pulling him out, and that's when Jay had grasped the precariousness of his situation. He couldn't see the shore anymore, and the sound of the water in his ears had drowned out all other sounds that could've been trying to reach him.

It was a feeling comparable to when he'd lose his mom at the mall or when he'd miss a step when going down a set of stairs. Uncertainty was not something Jay dealt with often, so he was a stranger in the face of it.

Niki's father had been a safe distance away when they'd gone out for that last surge, and Jay hadn't been sure if he was visible to him. He'd hoped that he'd come into view and tried to listen for his voice, but it had been tough with the wind in his ears, pressure building up as it does in airplanes; he kept waiting for his ears to pop.

The tide had picked up, and he'd gasped for air, his lungs gradually emptying with each drag of oxygen. The lineup of the waves kept sweeping past Jay, and the skyline seemed like it'd swallow him whole.

Jay had heard about what it meant to be rag-dolled. No man's land was commonplace for it to happen, and he'd known that if he didn't find his way back, it could happen to him. He didn't want to experience that tumultuous torture, hurtling and thrashing under a wave, hoping your lungs would hold out and that the sea would take pity and let up. The ocean is not opinionated, nor is it biased. While it is not particularly malicious, it's a free for all once you're in the thick of it. It stops for no one; if you make it, you make it, and if you don't, you don't.

Jay had visualized the leg rope on his ankle so precisely that even amidst the froth of the water, he could make it out: A literal lifeline, and he'd only hoped it'd save him if he met the worst of it.

The rip he was on was insistent, pulling him farther and farther out to sea. He had been foolish to wait so long, and he'd cursed before turning himself with great difficulty and paddling against the current.

It'd felt like ages and ages. His muscles were tight and tired, but Jay had known that quitting was not an option. He was young and, supposedly, had a bright future ahead of him. He wouldn't let this beat him, yet he wanted to do it again. Even as he had panted and paddled, he'd thought about getting back out into the water despite not even being out of it.

Jay had been close to collapsing on his board, arms of lead, when he heard a voice. It was interlaced with fear and uncertainty, beckoning for him beyond azure waves. It was his name, over and over again without fail. It had wavered every few seconds before coming back louder than ever, carrying over the water, unrelenting.

Jay had thought, in that moment, how even though Jay had always reeled Heeseung back in, sometimes Heeseung did the same, returning the favor. It was like some sort of magnetic attraction, two opposites trying their best to meet in the middle.

There was salt in his eyes and sand in his shorts, and Jay had never been happier to see a hand waving his way. It wasn't a head or anything, not even a sign of being relatively familiar, but Jay would've known it anywhere—the lines of those palms invisible from his vantage point but ever so familiar. It was a lighthouse, like the ones that guide long-lost sailors home, but it was made of skin and blood and bones that Jay had memorized long ago.

He'd kept his eyes on it as he'd approached the sand, guiding him to solid ground where only gravity would have power over him, and he'd be held down by nothing else.

"Over here!" Jay had shouted, reaching the shore and tumbling onto the sand.

Bodies were crowding around him, some laughing and others a mix of panicked relief. Jay could make out the gruff voice of Niki's father as Niki clapped him on the back and said, "glad you didn't die, Park."

Sunghoon had snorted beside him and knelt down to slug him on the shoulder, pushing him onto the sand and expertly jabbing spots on his limbs and stomach. Jay closed his eyes and winced. "You scared me. You're okay, right? Nothing broken? Did you get rag-dolled?"

"Sorry. Yup. Double no." Jay had mumbled and felt Sunghoon yank his scalp.

"Cool," Sunghoon responded. "Oh, and here's the highlight of the day: Heeseung thought you got eaten by a whale."

"What?" Jay had cracked an eye open. Now that he could feel his toes wriggling in the sand, he could properly lookup without his head spinning. When he did, he saw Heeseung standing off to the side, wiping at his eyes and looking fit to murder someone. Jay's heart had squeezed.

"Heeseung, stop moping. He's fine. Get over here." Sunghoon had called. Heeseung had seethed, glaring at the hot sand before stomping over and curling his hands into fists.

"You're so fucking stupid," he'd said, surprising everyone in the vicinity. They knew cuss words from movies and occasional drunk tourists that would go wild at Sunoo's parents' café, but they'd never said the words themselves before.

"Now, now, settle down." Niki's dad had patted Heeseung on the back, unperturbed by his outburst. "All's well that ends well."

Heeseung had sniffled and nodded before sitting down and wringing his hands in his lap. Jay had scooted closer to him, but Heeseung had barely acknowledged him, only wrapping and unwrapping his fingers together as if in a trance.

Jay had frowned, realizing just how upset Heeseung was, and thought about how he'd make it up to him. He wanted to try and surf again so badly, but if Heeseung didn't want him to, then, well, he wouldn't, but Heeseung surprised him.

"We're tough," Heeseung had said. "People know us by that quality, and we're supposed to stick together. Next time you do something stupid, at least bring me with you. We keep each other safe. That's just how it is." Then he'd gotten up and walked over to his board, which was leaning against a nearby lifeguard post. "C'mon, if you're okay, then you'll be able to return our gear to the shop. You with me?"

Jay had nodded, feeling lucid enough to pick up his own board nestled nearby in the sand.

"I'm with you." Always.

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