Adrian was Abba.
Logan was Dad.
Sometimes Daddy.
And together, they were home.
A sudden splash and the sharp, familiar sound of Jay’s laughter pulled Logan out of the memory and back into the present. The ocean gleamed under the late morning sun, gold spilling over the rolling waves like the sky had tipped a jar of honey into the sea. The breeze carried warmth and salt, curling through Logan’s hair as he watched Jay tumble off his board with a shriek of delight.
He resurfaced a second later, grinning widely, shaking the seawater from his hair, splashing water all over. The ocean had claimed him the way it once claimed Logan, the way it claimed Adrian.
And here, on this shore—on the very beach where everything began—it felt like everything had come full circle.
Logan felt the past crash into him, uninvited, dragging him back and forth through memory. The years apart, the pain, the silence, the ache of wanting and not having, it had been another kind of drowning.
But now, standing in the ocean, salt clinging to his skin, his husband beside him and their son laughing as he jumped in and out of the water, it felt like everything they had endured had led to this. Like this moment—this small, golden sliver of joy—was what they’d been swimming toward all along.
Jay clung to Logan’s shoulders, shrieking with laughter, as Adrian guided the board across the surface of the water, making over-the-top sound effects—low rumbles, crashing whooshes, dramatic wipeout noises—that sent Jay into another fit of giggles, his head thrown back in wild delight. “Hold Daddy tight!” Adrian called, grinning, and Jay’s small hands gripped Logan’s shoulders with all his might as the board sped forward. In perfect rhythm, Logan lifted Jay into the air, letting him ride the rise like it was a real wave, his laughter rising above the wind. Then, with a dramatic dive, Logan dipped him into the water before pulling him back up, soaked and beaming, as Adrian cheered them both on like it was the greatest performance he’d ever seen.
And then Jay turned toward them, face glowing, eyes lit up with something fierce and bright and completely his own.
“I wanna do it alone this time!” he shouted, gripping his board.
Logan and Adrian exchanged a glance, the same one they’d shared a hundred times before—quiet agreement, soft understanding—and nodded. They didn’t let him go into the deeper water, of course. Thatwasn’t the point. They walked with him to the edge, where the sea barely touched his ankles, the kind of surf that only looked big if you were five.
“Water break first,” Logan announced, crouching beside him and holding out the bottle, waiting until Jay drank enough before handing the board back to him. Only then did they step back, giving him space, but not distance. Always close. Always watching.
They stood where the sea met the land, where the tide curled in around their feet and the horizon stretched open and endless before them. Jay stood ahead of them, small but fearless, ready to face the waves on his own terms.
Logan dropped down into the sand, stretching his legs out toward the water, letting the sun press into his skin. He drank from the bottle, then passed it wordlessly to Adrian.
Adrian sat next, settling between Logan’s legs, his back pressing against Logan’s chest like it was the most natural thing in the world, because it was. Logan wrapped his arms around Adrian’s waist without hesitation. The way the tide always pulls the sand. The way love, when it’s real, doesn’t ask permission to stay.
Adrian leaned into him, his head tilted just enough to rest on Logan’s shoulder, the weight of him grounding Logan more than any shoreline ever could.
They stayed like that, in the soft breath between waves, watching their son chase the sea.
With a gentle touch, Logan turned Adrian’s face toward him, his fingers brushing along the familiar curve of his jaw, tracing the sun-warmed skin with a reverence that hadn’t dulled, not after all this time. “I haven’t even had a chance to give you a proper good morning kiss,” he murmured,voice low, roughened by affection, though his gaze flicked toward Jay, who was still just a handful of steps away, completely absorbed in “surfing” ankle-deep waves like they were towering giants.
Adrian chuckled, the sound soft but deep, a vibration that rolled through Logan’s chest where their bodies touched. “Well,” he said, leaning in, his voice laced with that quiet mischief that always made Logan ache, “that’s just unacceptable.”
And then their lips met.
The kiss was deep, slow,intentional—the kind of kiss that wasn’t about heat but about memory, about presence, abouteverythingthey had weathered to get to this morning on this beach, alive and whole and together. Logan’s hands came up to cradle Adrian’s face, thumbs brushing the sharp edges of his cheekbones, anchoring them both in the moment. Adrian melted into him, one hand braced on Logan’s thigh, the other curling behind his neck as their mouths moved in a rhythm only they knew—an echo of years, of silence, of reunion.
Logan cut the kiss for a moment, still holding Adrian’s face and just looked at him, eyes dazed, and he bit his lips as he took him in. “God,” he murmured and crushed their mouths again. He kissed him like it had been months, not seconds. Like something hungry had lived in his chest too long and finally,finally, was being fed. His mouth crashed into Adrian’s, fierce and open and claiming, as his hand slid into the back of Adrian’s hair, pulling out the hair tie and letting his hair cascade around him like water. Their lips parted as one, and Logan surged forward, his tongue sliding into Adrian’s mouth, tasting him, coaxing his tongue into a slow, circling dance, until every cell in his body thrummed with the electric joy of contact.
Adrian gasped into it—just a sound, but it made Logan groan, deep in his throat, as he tilted his head further back and kissed him harder. Deeper. Their tongues slid together, hot and slick, and Logan felt Adrian melt into him, the tension in his body dissolving as he leaned back fully, letting Logan take. Letting himhave.
There was nothing tentative about it.
This wasn’t careful.
Logan completely owned him.
Adrian kissed back like fire, mouth open and desperate, matching Logan’s intensity beat for beat. Their bodies shifted with it, with the friction of memory and want, ofyou’re mineanddon’t you dare stop.
And when they finally broke apart—panting, lips swollen, foreheads pressed together, eyes heavy with something too deep for words—Logan didn’t move.
