Deke looked at the ocean.

Well, looked -towards- the ocean, anyway, since the moon was down and the bonfire had burned low so there was just a bit of red and orange flickering out on the sand to either side of his shadow. He'd had a good night. One of Robby's friends had pulled his truck up at the edge of the dunes with a bed full of firewood and a nice, loud radio and they'd all drank and stomped around in the sand for a while. Done other things in the sand, too, of course. If Deke took a deep breath he knew he'd smell salt and wood smoke, the faint tang of open beer bottles and the sharper one of sex.

It was still a nice night; not too cold yet, though the blanket around him and the heat of the dying fire on his back certainly didn't hurt. After a week or two more, though, winter would creep in and the chill would make him go home to sleep, if he didn't want to wake up creaking and groaning from the cold like a man twice his age. Or if he didn't have a nice, warm someone to share his blanket with. Sometimes he did, but not tonight.

Tonight it had been a couple of kisses and a quick blow behind one of the taller dunes, but then the boy had made his excuses and scurried off home; early shift, or the roommate needs the car, or, God, maybe this one broke his curfew... Deke had heard them all. He didn't know why they bothered, really, it's not like he minded a little fuck-and-run. Not like he even asked why they were leaving, but still the words would tumble out and Deke would shrug and grin and wave at their backs as they shuffled away. Guess they thought he'd be lonely or something. They just didn't know any better.

Deke sat some more and looked at the ocean, and only the ocean and the sky looked back. But he was cool with that.