(*-*-*Author's Note: Well, it's been a while since I've posted a new story. I initially made this account to practice writing stories as fast as possible and not get bogged down in perfectionism and procrastination but in the end did so anyway. I'll try to update as much as I can, hopefully get back to actually finishing my stories rather than tucked away in hundreds of unfinished draft folders. Not much hot and heavy sex, with this one, as I'd prefer to establish the set up and characters first. To those followers that take the time to read my stories, despite my amateur attempts and mistakes, thank you so much.*-*-*)
Fenris had come to realize he'd never been more afraid of the wind until this very moment. Afterall, it was nothing more than just moving air. A brief respite on a hot day. Another gust passed and his heart damn near leapt out his throat. He stood, legs shaking like maracas as the air bellowed and the steel beam he stood on wobbled sixty feet off the air.
Amidst all that, a question lanced its way through the turmoil of bladder control and acid reflex:
What was he doing up here?
It was all lost to him, as he questioned the decisions he made in his life up to this point. Just then, another big gust made the cables swing so ferociously he had to grip them so tight his palms went white. The voices of his friends all rang out to him sixty feet below, as they swam about happily and without worry.
Where they ever his friends? Truly? And was that laughing he heard?
He could feel their eyes despite the distance and they were all watching. Watching and Laughing. Through the hateful fucking wind, almost tearing his body from his soul, they were laughing at him?
How dare they.
It was for them he did this stupid shit.
Oh, how stupid he felt.
Sixty- - maybe even seventy feet off the water, he stood atop an old steel ballast dangling by two flimsy steel cables that swayed with each graze of a passing breeze, thighs shaking and bladder weakening. The Ship Graveyards was littered with the colossal corpses of old warships, tankers and cruise liners from the War. Their gigantic steel carcasses littered the bay area locals called the Graveyards. Despite the dismal name, it was one of the most beautiful waters in the region with its rich, clear, blue-green waters abundant with life and pristine white sands. It also made for a kick-ass hangout and makeout point.
Fenris never thought winds could be this strong. Too strong. His bladder tightened and his stomach went backflipping on top of his intestines, threatening to expel the pieces of seafood and beer he had earlier. His courage melted like ice left out in the open sun, as he held on for dear life on the swinging piece of steel about his arms.
Oh god, he wanted to cry too.
How foolish. Stupid, stupid!
He should never have come up here. What was the point of it all? All for what? A kiss? No matter how sweet a kiss, or whatever sweet promises that may come after, it all dried out in the first ten seconds he managed to planted his foot on this rusted piece of metal. Or the soft push of a perky pair of titties, None of it was worth this, he realized. His life flashed before his eyes. And he saw how pathetic his life had been.
Who was he kidding? He didn't hate all of it. His childhood was an amazing thing. Back when his parents were still living with them. His teenage years was another matter entirely. It was an awkward attempt at chasing after the fun of a group, just to belong.
He wasn't even properly invited to this beach party. Word was, it was only Ricky and his little group, as usual. And as usual, every kid in the neighborhood wanted in. This friend invited that friend and before you know it, almost three dozen eighteen-year-olds were having one of the best parties of the year.
