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The light and the obstacle that casts it

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Bitty’s swimsuit is smaller than Jack remembers. Bluer too, and Jack should probably do something about his dick-twitch pavlovian response to the color blue before it ruins his career. Not today, though. Today is for a sun-soaked Bitty in little blue shorts and a beach just for them.

Bitty rests his hands on his hips and lets out a happy sigh, and Jack can’t resist reaching out to trail his fingers along the elastic waistband of his swim trunks.

Bitty lets him indulge before brushing his hands away. “None of that, Mr. Zimmermann. This is far too public.”

“We’ve done it in far more public places than this, Bits,” Jack says, but keeps his hands to himself when Bitty gracefully settles onto the blanket beside him, uncapping the sunscreen.

“Don’t remind me that we’re heathens when we’re on vacation.”

“That’s the perfect time to be heathens,” Jack replies, earning a little squirt of sunscreen to the chest. It’s not Erotic, Jack tries to tell himself, even if it’s a lie.

Bitty ignores him and rubs a little streak of white over his nose until it blends in with his lovely tan skin.

It’s the perfect temperature on this stretch of the beach, with nobody else in sight. When he’d booked the cabana online, it had promised a secluded beach, but Jack had been sure they’d be forced to share the little sandy nook with other vacationers. The cabana on either side of theirs remains empty, though, so it’s just Bitty and Jack in their own little cove.

It makes Jack’s fingers itch with the desire to pull Bitty closer, get too close to him in the sun like he has in their little cabana. The flash of gold on Bitty’s left hand only serves to make it worse, because Bitty said yes, Bitty wants to marry him, and Jack wants to shut himself away with Bitty and celebrate that until they get married and do it all over again.

But Bitty wants to swim and the ocean is too blue to be denied.

It isn’t until they’re both crawling back onto their beach towel, the sun drying the water off their skin, that Jack reaches for Bitty with Proper Intent. He sits down, legs spread in front of him and tugs Bitty back, ignoring the way they’re both sticky with sunscreen and salt water, just relishing in the feel of Bitty’s back pressed to his chest.

Bitty settles against him, like sitting between Jack’s legs is the real paradise, and Jack slides his left hand over Bitty’s, taking another moment to marvel at how a little change can mean So Much.

He’s been catching glimpses of the rings all week, when he’s brushing his teeth or washing the dishes. When Bitty waves his hand to catch his attention or steal the remote from the coffee table. The little things, where nothing between them has changed, but with a new reminder that it’s permanent. It’s theirs. This future they’re building is here and now and forever.

It’s like everything in Jack’s life has shifted just slightly to the left, and he’s realized they were off-center before. And now everything is right and beautiful, and Bitty’s sitting in front of him at the beach, sighing like the world has never done them wrong.

Jack slides a hand up Bitty’s chest, slow, intentional, tracing his fingertips over sun-warmed skin. It’s slow and meandering, more about the journey up than the way Jack’s fingers reach toward their destination. But they do get there eventually, his thumb tracing over the nub of Bitty’s nipple, relishing in the way Bitty arcs beneath his touch.

“I almost forgot how delicious you look in the sun,” Jack says, lips beside Bitty’s ear, close enough that he can feel the way Bitty shivers against him. His other hand, resting against the waistband of Bitty’s swimsuit, dips a fingertip below the elastic.

“Jack,” Bitty says, probably meant to be a protest, but it’s breathy and needy. “This is a public beach.” He glances around, but they’ve been the only ones on the beach since they got there, just the two of them, a beach umbrella, and the ocean.

“We’re allowed to be close to each other,” Jack says. “And there’s no one here to tell us we aren’t.”

“This isn’t just close, Jack,” Bitty admonishes, but his head drops onto Jack’s shoulder, body relaxing against him.

“It’s you, me, and the sun, Bits,” Jack says. “Let me feel a little spontaneous.”

They’re already pressed so close together, Bitty’s back to Jack’s chest, their legs splayed across their blanket and into the sand. Bitty’s knees twitch, like he wants to bring them up to cover them, and Jack doesn’t want that. He wants them just Like This, unfolded in the sand and sun, revealed for the two of them and the ocean before them.

He hooks his ankles around Bitty’s, keeping his legs spread, and now he’s really wrapped around Bitty, chin hooked and hands dancing down his torso. It’s brilliant, Jack thinks, to be wrapped around the man he loves.

Bitty’s hard now, Jack can see the outline of him in those little trunks, the bulge framed by Jack’s hand. He traces a finger up and down its length and tries not to roll his own hips too much, cock trapped between his body and Bittle’s.

“We’ll get sandy, Jack,” Bitty breathes, but grips Jack’s thighs on either side of him, head rolling back onto Jack’s shoulder, neck curved beside Jack’s mouth. It’s a half-hearted protest, if that, but Jack does pause.

“We can stop, Bi—”

“Don’t you dare.”

Jack snorts into Bitty’s neck and pinches his nipple again.

“If we’re going to defile this place and one another,” Bitty says, turning to nudge Jack with his nose. “Then we’re going to do it.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Jack says, and Immediately tucks the blue swim trunks under Bitty’s cock. It’s gorgeously red, beading at the tip, and if Jack weren’t so sure it would taste like sand, he’d find a way to get it in his mouth. As it is, he’s a little concerned about a grainy handjob, but he’s committed now, dedicated to This and to Them.

Bitty reaches up with his left hand to card his fingers through Jack’s hair, and his ring catches the light on the way, filling Jack with Something. He’s not sure he could even name it, this Pride-Happiness-Content-Horny feeling, but seeing the way Bitty wears his ring and spreads out before him Thrills Jack to his core.

Jack’s own ring-adorned hand is still settled beside Bitty’s cock, and it adds a shade of Something Bright to their reality. This place, a beach in paradise, with rings on their fingers and plans for something more, makes Jack think about a future where it’s only them and whatever else they want. The two of them and the rest of forever.

“Jack,” Bitty whines, and Jack finally touches him, thumb swirling over the head. He ducks his head down, seeking out a spot on Bitty’s neck that isn’t slathered in sunscreen. Just below his ear is pleasantly not-sandy, smelling a little bit like salt, and Jack thinks if he’s going to leave a hickey on Bitty at the beach, there’s no better place to do it.

So he sucks on Bitty’s skin and drags his palm down his cock and uses his other hand to pinch at Bitty’s nipple, and really, this was what beach vacations were Made For.

It is a bit grainy if he’s being honest, so after a moment Jack withdraws his hand from Bitty’s now rather red nipple and roots around in their beach bag. He knows he packed it, tossed it in at the last moment when Bitty was grabbing towels for them, and he’s delighted when he finds the little bottle of lube.

A little piece of paper flutters out of the bag with it, though, and Bitty snatches it with a delighted, scandalized gasp.

“Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty says, rolling his hips up into Jack’s hand, breathing heavily, fingering the note. “You planned this. My beach defilement was not a moment of spontaneity.”

“Sandy handjobs aren’t quite a defilement, Bits,” Jack replies, still mouthing at his skin. It’s started to redden a bit, and Jack Knows there will be a mark by the time he’s done. “Besides, I hadn’t decided if we’d do it in the ocean or not, so this decision was technically still spontaneous.”

Bitty unfolds the note, head lolling back onto Jack’s shoulder, because Jack isn’t going to stop thumbing at Bitty’s slit for him to read a sex note.

Jack already knows what it says, anyway.

“Take a trip to paradise and try not to get salt and sand in places it shouldn’t be ;)”

“Premeditated beach sex.” Bitty laughs and shakes his head, then shudders when Jack twists his wrist. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yes, but I’m ridiculous on a beach in paradise. And you agreed to marry me.”

“We aren’t married yet,” Bitty says, but he follows the sentence with another happy sigh and a glance at his left hand.

It’s entirely too much rational conversation for what is supposed to be a Very Satisfactory Handjob, Jack thinks, and twists his wrist a little faster.

Bitty shudders and drops the note, grasping his fingers against Jack’s thighs again. His hands skid over Jack’s skin, still a little slick from the ocean.

Jack hums and peels his mouth away long enough to look down at where his own hands are tracing across Bitty’s body. He knows this body, knows the man that inhabits it, knows just how to make it Good for him.

“Jack,” Bitty says, a benediction, a sun-kissed blessing in a place they’ve made holy to them. This might not be their wedding, but it’s Something, Jack can feel it.

Bitty’s trembling now, skin shiny with sweat or sunscreen or water, Jack’s not sure anymore. It’s a good look on him though, spread out over Jack, lit up and Brilliant. Bitty was right, all those months ago; his fiance in the sun really does turn him on.

“J-Jack!” Bitty breathes, and it’s Everything.

Bitty spills into his hand with a breathy groan, hips rolling, his entire body pressed as closely to Jack as he can get. Their ankles are still hooked together, and the motion of Bitty’s orgasm rolls him back against Jack’s dick.

Jack’s hips twitch, and it destabilizes them a little. He unhooks his ankles from Bitty’s and drops back onto his elbows, Bitty sprawled bonelessly between his legs.

“Good Lord, Jack,” Bitty says, flushed red and so, so lovely. “I know we’ve been celebrating, but that was…”

“I’ll send a fruit basket to Shitty and Lardo.”

“Shitty and Lardo didn’t give me that handjob,” Bitty says, and leans heavily against him.

Jack hums and rocks his hips up. His swimsuit is still a little damp, and it’s altogether not a super pleasant feeling, but Bitty’s still splayed across his chest and that isn’t something he’s willing to give up just yet.

Bitty, however, seems more inclined to change their position, and manages to roll over until their chests are pressed together. He leans in and kisses Jack, slow and wet and Pleased. And it’s Great, it really is, but Jack Needs More right now.

Jack leans all the way back against the blanket, freeing up his arms to wind around Bitty and drag him closer. He’s almost dry humping Bitty at this point, fingertips scratching at his hairline, nudging the kiss deeper, stronger.

Bitty runs his hands down Jack’s sides, the skin on skin contact fire in Jack’s stomach. He nips at Bitty’s lip and drops a hand to Bitty’s ass, pressing them closer, grinding harder.

Bitty’s deft fingers graze the waistband of Jack’s swimsuit, where his cock is straining to join the party.

“Bits,” Jack groans, when Bitty breaks their kiss to look down between them.

Bitty ignores him and settles more on his knees on either side of Jack, giving him the space he needs to free Jack’s cock. He drags a hand down his own chest, where slick streaks of his own release are still damp, and then wraps it around Jack’s cock.

And Jack—

Jack has to close his eyes for a moment, because the friction is Wild but the sight of Bitty’s hand, wet with his own come and pulling on Jack’s cock might be too much for him. This, the two of them on a beach, surrounded by sun and sand and the panting breath of each other, could quite possibly be Jack’s undoing.

Bitty orgasmed quietly, but Jack knows it’s only them, or maybe just doesn’t care if it isn’t, and shouts when Bitty drags his orgasm from him.

It’s like a wave crashing on the beach, like the rumble of a cliffside falling to rubble.

It’s like Bitty perched above him, sun-warmed and glowing, pulling pleasure from Jack like it’s what he was made to do.

And then it’s just the sound of the soft waves down the beach. Jack’s heart is still pounding, his brain muddled, but Bitty leans down and presses soft kisses to his neck, and everything is Beautiful.

“Can you walk?” Bitty asks, smirking against his neck.

“I’m not even sure I can stand up.”

“We’re already covered in sand, let’s not let everything else dry on us.”

“The poor ocean.” Jack grunts.

“You were considering my defilement in the ocean, Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty says, laughing. “You haven’t got any room to talk.”

Jack groans but lets Bitty pull him up and tuck his cock back into his swim trunks. Bitty holds his hand and walks backwards through the sand, grinning and freckled.

The water is warmer here than it is back home, the whole place brighter than reality has any right to be. Bitty pulls him closer in the waves and kisses him gently, as the ocean swells around them.