There was nothing like a beach day with Riff.

They were rare little gems - pockets of time that were just for you and him. When you took that trip down to the sound, it meant that the two of you were unreachable for the day.

Cigarettes, sunscreen, a shared blanket. Watching him make a sandcastle and kick it down after the tide licks at the base one too many times.

As long as you'd been seeing him, nothing made Riff act quite his age like being allowed free reign of the sand and sea, like a whole other world compared to his 'territory' at home. Sometimes you liked to think you'd move across the country with him someday, spend the rest of your lives by the ocean and away from the gang that took all of his free time from you.

Not that you could think much about that second part now, as you watched him carry Cokes back over to your blanket. Sun blocked by the pier, it was easier to open your eyes fully and take in the way he lowered himself practically on top of you, wanting to touch despite the temperature.

"Did you know the guy tried charging me 8 cents a piece? We need to find a different beach." He grumbled as he dropped a straw in yours, fingertips warm under yours when he passed the bottle over.

He'd be tan in the morning.