damnfinecup | [for joe]

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[for joe]

It wasn't a bad day to go to the beach. Not that there were often bad days to go to the beach on the island, if one didn't count the occasional hurricane or those times when dinosaurs walked the island. Even in the rain, Dale sometimes liked to walk along the sand and watch the clouds gather over the ocean. There was no rain today though, just a partly cloudy sky and a pleasant breeze.

Dale didn't do much in the way of food, deciding they would be better off raiding the nearby trees for something to eat, but he did wear the awful shorts, as promised, along with equally awful tank top and his too-large running shoes that he never could find the heart to part with, not with everything they'd been through together. And rather than heading west or south they went north, to a more distant and seldom-visited stretch of shoreline.

"So," he said, standing barefoot in the surf and looking out over the water. "You ready?"

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"Same place we get everything from," said Dale with a rueful smile, still looking at the water rather than directly at Joe. "The truce between the clothing box and I is an uneasy one. We still have our flare-ups."

"No more leather pants?" Joe asked with a soft, amused looking smile as he looked out at the water as well, walking toward it slowly. Maybe the worst part about everything was that he wasn't sure how his relationship with Dale had changed, he only knew that it had and it was strange in a way it hadn't been before.

"I'm not sure whether we were getting along or not when it gave me the leather pants," admitted Dale. Uncomfortable as they were, they sure did grab attention. "Do you like this spot?"

"Didn't we bond over the leather pants?" Joe asked, rubbing a hand over his head and ignoring the second question for now, still not sure how ready he was to do this. "I'd say you were getting along if that was the case."

After another moment and a deep breath, he nodded. "Yeah, this works," he allowed, taking the gun out of the waist of his pants and turning it over in his hands.

"It's a nice spot," said Dale, which he knew didn't really mean anything other than that he was feeling surprisingly content, all things considered. More content than he'd imagine he could feel without a lot more time and energy spent pursuing it. "I wonder if we can see dolphins here."

"Not if I scare the shit out of them by throwing this thing into the ocean," Joe pointed out dryly, holding the gun out in his palm for Dale to see. No reason behind it, just to show him that it was really there, he was really getting rid of it. And he was getting rid of it because Dale wanted him to, which he didn't understand, but figured it had to mean something.

Dale nodded at him, at it, and didn't feel like Joe was looking for anything more than that. It felt good, to Dale, that Joe was doing this, and doing it freely and willingly. He hoped, in some way, it felt good for Joe too, or at least that it would one day.

Dale was a big believer in symbolism.

"Maybe a shark will eat it," Joe said simply and for no reason at all, then stepped out further into the water until it was lapping around his knees. It was just a fucking gun and he didn't need it, he'd lived just fine without it since the hurricane and he'd live just fine without it again.

Pulling back his arm, Joe threw the gun as hard as he could, watching it fly through the air, not as far as he'd expected, but still far enough.

Dale watched it right from start to finish, and didn't say anything when it landed, just kept watching. Maybe a shark would eat it, though with their luck the shark would end up on the dinner table a week from now and there would be the gun again. No, he'd rather the gun sank into the sediment at the bottom of the ocean and rested there for good.

Shifting, Joe pushed one of his hands into his pocket as he watched the gun fall into the water, then turned back to look at Dale. "You know, I don't know why I did that," he admitted, walking back through the water toward Dale. "Not really."

"Maybe one day you will," said Dale easily, moving closer to rest a hand on Joe's shoulder for just a moment. It was all he dared to do. "For now, it's just good that the deed is done."

Nodding his agreement, Joe kept his eyes on the water when Dale was touching him, then lifted his gaze to smile at him faintly. "It's done and it's gone again. And hey, I'm still sober." Just in case Dale had been wondering.

"And if I have anything to do with it, you'll stay that way," said Dale. And maybe ultimately the choice would always be Joe's, but Dale did have something to do with it now. He'd inserted himself and was there to stay. "I like you the way you are, Joe."

"I am pretty fucking great," Joe agreed, his hands still on his pockets as his smile grew just a little bit. "And you do have something to do with it. You and Logan and Neil and Anne. Between the four of you I figure I can do it."

He was pretty fucking great, as far as Dale was concerned, even when he was being a prick, but he didn't feel the need to put it quite like that. "You ready for something to eat, or would you rather go for a swim?"

Joe thought about it for a moment and then smiled again and shrugged. "Maybe we should go for a swim," he suggested, only because he figured it would probably feel pretty damn good at the moment. Refreshing somehow, in a way it normally wasn't.

"I'd hate to have worn these shorts for nothing, after all," said Dale and after only a moment of thought, a moment he wouldn't even have taken with anyone else, he stripped off his shirt and left in on the beach with his shoes.

It was done without thinking, the sweep of Dale's body with his eyes, and then Joe looked away and moved closer to the beach to take off his own shirt. It was only there, standing in the water in his shorts that he noticed how thin he'd gotten and he made a disgruntled noise before walking back out into the water to join Dale.

"Water feels a bit warmer up on this side of the island," said Dale, standing there calf-deep and staring out at it again. Sometimes he wondered if, aside from the island, there was water right to the ends of the earth. "Maybe it gets more sunshine."

"Or maybe you're all warm and tingly with the knowledge of what I just did," Joe said dryly, wading out further until he was standing beside Dale again. "Maybe it had nothing to do with the sunshine at all."

"Could be," said Dale, turning his head to give Joe a grin. "We need some kind of platform out there, that I could race you to. We used to have one at the lake we went to when I was a kid."

"Fuck, you'd kick my ass at that," Joe replied, mirroring the grin as he looked over at Dale. "I'm in shit shape, man. Even moreso recently." He'd never been in great shape, though.

"I am a strong swimmer," agreed Dale, without actually saying that yes, he would kick Joe's ass without even working up a sweat. "We clearly need to get some muscle on you."

Joe let out a soft snort of amusement at that, looking down at himself before he waded out further into the water. "Yeah, we clearly need to do that," he agreed dryly.

"You're the one who keeps telling me you're out of shape," Dale pointed out, diving right in to the water and emerging quite a few feet away. "You keep telling me that and I'm going to make sure you do something about it."

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