Lawli: I should be working on The Charlatans of Circumstance, but... this little sucker just wanted to be written. And I had to obey my SuzaxLulu muse. This is really more of an experiment than anything else, I wanted to try something different in terms of writing style. Usually I stick to plain old past-tense, but lately I've been into the present-tense. So here I'm trying it out.

I dunno. xD I kind of like how it turned out, but you tell me.

This whole thing was inspired by the song "Summer Girl" by The Stereos. Go give it a listen if you don't know it! It's a fun song, if anything. And this fic was just supposed to be a short, fluffy romance; but I started writing and it kind of morphed into... something else. But you'll see.

Please read, enjoy, and leave a review if you're feeling generous! ;)

Warning(s): boyxboy (yaoi/shounen-ai) starting this chapter.

There’s a little house down by Windy Beach, which we’d live in four months out of the year. My mother didn’t like to be confined to one place for too long, so we moved around a lot; but this house we always came back to. It was probably the closest thing to home, for my little sister and me. The beach town was small and everyone knew us – and no, not just because of my brother; that came later. It was a comfortable place. A safe place.

I really... liked being there.

It’s deserted now, that house. None of us could bring ourselves to set foot in it after that one summer, so it’s fallen into a state of disuse that makes teenaged girls shudder, cling to their friends or lovers and whisper it’s haunted when they pass it. All that remains inside, buried under years of dust and cobwebs and broken windows are secrets of the past we didn’t want to bring along with us when we tried to move away from it. The bad memories, and even the good ones too – anything that served as a reminder of that one summer.

We’ve all tried to put it behind us.

It’s easier that way, to just push it to the far recesses of your mind and ignore it whenever it tries to resurface.

But sometimes, when I’m outside and it’s a hot, clear day... I can’t help but think of crystal-blue water and laughter like bells in the air, the sun warm on my face during lazy afternoons and –

“I’m Suzaku.”

“Join me?”

“Ha-harder! Harder!”

I think I love him.

— sand beneath my toes.

And when the sky is swallowed by dark clouds, my head spins and I feel like I’m drowning or being tossed up and down in an endless current of despair because –

“This is Euphie.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

Will this choking feeling ever go away?

“Don’t let go of my hand! Whatever you do, Lelouch, don’t let go!”

Sorry, I’d rather not remember why.

“There are waves that clash and glisten against the shore,
so beautiful and deadly.
And why, I can’t remember;
but the sound of them brings tears to my eyes.”

Wind at High Tide

Chapter One

“You’re late.”

In response to pointing out the obvious, Milly Ashford receives one token Evil Eye from seasonal colleague and childhood friend Lelouch Lamperouge, who looks as though he would much rather be enjoying a few extra hours of beauty sleep than laying out towels for a beach-front resort pool.

She sighs, combing her fingers through her bangs and giving up any further attempts to scold him. Lelouch is someone she can’t stay mad at for very long. Maybe because she’s known him since they were both in diapers, or perhaps because he looks absolutely, adorably pathetic at the moment – nearly doubled over from the efforts of running from his house all the way down the street to the resort – but all irritation disappears the instant she looks at him, her frown quickly morphing into an exasperated smile as she claps a hand against his back and offers to lay out the rest of the towels while he catches his breath.

Lelouch, the last person on the planet who would ever accept pity from another human being, growls and all but tears the blue-and-white striped towels from Milly’s arms.

“I’ve got it,” he assures, voice gruff and un-amused as his expression as he stalks over to the nearest deck chair and lays a perfectly folded towel atop it.

Grinning, Milly remains standing under the shade of the bar awning. “If you’re sure,” she replies cheerfully. It is a rare occasion that Lelouch voluntarily does his job; she isn’t about to stop him. At least, not until he looks over his shoulder at her and she sees the little frown on his face. Then she sprints over and allows him to dump half the towels into her waiting hands. “What do my parents pay you for, again?”

“I barely get paid,” Lelouch reminds her, making a show of setting another towel down.

Milly rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you earn what you get.”

“I put out the towels. What more do you want?”

Milly starts on her own set of chairs, making sure each is accompanied by a fluffy hotel towel. “Hm... Well, I guess if I was the brother of the Great Schneizel El Britannia, I would be above this sort of thing too.”

Lelouch freezes and Milly realizes too late that she’d gone too far. She’d merely been teasing him but, in doing so, brought up a painful subject and now she can see Lelouch throwing up his mental barriers. Schneizel is someone Lelouch refuses to talk about.

“I’m sorry,” she says, quietly, lowering her gaze to the ground.

Lelouch doesn’t say anything, just continues where he left off in his work. Milly does the same. It is only when they both finish laying out their set of towels that she approaches him again.

“Lelouch...”

Her hand touches his shoulder and Lelouch shrugs it away before she has the chance to speak again.

“It’s nothing. The first are coming out.”

It is still rather early – too early for the normal morning crowd – but Milly takes that as her cue to leave and begins heading back towards the resort. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

There is a hopeful ring to her voice Lelouch can’t ignore. For whatever reason, Lelouch finds it difficult to stay angry at Milly for very long, too. She meant well, even if she deliberately brought up something she shouldn’t have; Lelouch knows that.

Meeting her gaze from across the deck, he nods his head.

She smiles and disappears through the staff entrance just as another set of doors automatically swings open.

He swims.

For hours, he swims.

And for hours, Lelouch watches him. Stands behind a tall stack of folding chairs and watches the way he dives down beneath the surface and pushes himself back up with arms that hint at strength and tight embraces. He’s been swimming since seven-thirty and now it’s going on nine; he doesn’t appear to be tired and Lelouch is glad, because he isn’t tired yet either.

His hair is brown, curly until the water plasters it to the sides of his face. It looks very soft.

“Hey, towel boy!”

The morning crowd has arrived and Lelouch hates it, and so must his Swimmer for he’s retreated into the resort.

The day passes slowly.

Lelouch meets Milly for lunch at the crab shack across the street. He’s distracted and she notices, but neither of them says anything about it.

He returns after midnight, in the company of an outgoing blond male Lelouch instantly dislikes. They race each other in the water until the blond gets tired and calls it a night. His Swimmer stays a bit longer, floating on his back and allowing the moonlight to kiss his body. He’s the most beautiful thing Lelouch has ever seen, and more than anything Lelouch wishes to reach out and touch him – run his fingers through damp chestnut hair or, lower, over the smooth plane of his chest.

He’s never felt this way before, never entertained these sorts of thoughts about anyone; it’s frightening and exciting at the same time, and Lelouch doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“You can come out now.”

Lelouch’s throat runs dry, his heart leaping into his throat as he realizes he’s been caught.

It’s hard for him to breathe as he steps out from behind the same stack of chairs as that morning, and his face feels like its on fire as he’s beckoned closer – and closer, and closer until he stands nervously at the ledge of the pool, fingering the hotel towel he’s carrying as more a force of habit than a desire to be courteous.

His Swimmer pushes himself up and out of the pool, hair and swim trunks dripping wet. He takes the towel from Lelouch’s hands and slings it around his neck, lips forming a lopsided smile as he leans in.

“If you’re going to hide, at least hide somewhere I can’t see you.”

The blush on Lelouch’s face darkens and he looks away quickly, muttering something under his breath that even he can’t make sense of. His Swimmer laughs. It’s a nice sound, like bells. Lelouch’s eyes close as he ingrains it in his memory.

“I’m Suzaku.”

There’s a hand in his own, squeezing his fingers firmly.

“L-Lelouch,” he stammers out, wondering why his heart is beating so fast and how on earth he’s actually having trouble talking to another person. He’s usually good with people; why is Suzaku so different?

“Well, Lelouch. Try the vending machine next time.”

Suzaku winks, lets go of his hand, and turns back to the hotel.

The next evening, Lelouch takes up hiding behind the wall of vending machines. And after swimming a few laps – knowing that he was being watched, liking that he was being watched – Suzaku gets out of the pool and corners him against one. The water dripping off him soaks Lelouch’s clothes but he doesn’t complain; it’s a hot night and the cool water feels nice against him.

But what feels even nicer is Suzaku’s body pressed so tightly against his, lips teasing Lelouch’s mouth with their closeness. The vending machine thrums behind them and Suzaku kisses him with such intensity that Lelouch wonders if any of it is real.

Lawli: To be continued...? Maybe?? xD