It was stupid. It was so stupid. It was brainless and impulsive and Donnie couldn't stop grinning as he shucked off his clothes, watching as teenager after teenager screamed and hit the water. He could worry about picking things up later. He could worry about everything else later. All that mattered in that second was jumping in, cold water flooding into his vision.
Arms and legs pushed through the blue, swimming to partners floating above and diving under to watch the playful commotion up above. Donnie watched as a pale faced girl from Calculus glided by. Her hair followed in a long black streak, tickling his wrists and giving way to the blurry spot of ugly hot pink that could only belong to one person.
Thoughts floated through his mind as he let himself start to swim upwards, brain loose and happy with a night of drinks and the upcoming promise of graduation.
Gretchen would have loved this.
He should probably be more embarrassed about swimming in white briefs in front of his entire class.
He'd probably have a hangover in the morning.
Peter's boxers were so fucking stupid.
Yes, many thoughts were running in the background of Donnie's mind. Though he couldn't really force himself to care about them as he drew in a long gust of air, pressed his nose to the wet hair at the back of Peter's neck and cackled when he felt the other guy jolt.
"Pink flamingos, really?"
"Was all I had clean," Peter turned around, eyes turned to Aaron necking sloppily with some girl as if that would negate the way Donnie's arms had found their way around his shoulders. "Didn't really think anyone was gonna be seeing them."
"I don't know, I think it's sexy."
"Dude, shut the fuck up."
"No, no, I mean it! Tropical birds are hot." He laughed, thunking his head down against Peter's damp shoulder. Breathed in the smell of chlorine and sweat. Donnie registered the warm press of Peter’s hand to his lower back, the other lifting his face to slick back hair that had plastered itself to Donnie's forehead. The hand found itself straying to his cheek, Donnie able to detect the harsh callus of Peter's thumb swiping back and forth beneath his eye.
The water was so cool and here Donnie was, sweating and shivering chest to chest with Peter Graham. He watched the water's reflection play across the side of his face, heard him breathe in as someone shrieked on the other side of the pool, and leaned in to press their lips together.
It wasn’t the first time the two of them had kissed. It was far from the first time the two of them had made out. Donnie should have been completely used to doing this kind of thing with Peter. Yet he could still hear the blood rush between his ears as Peter parted his lips and the breath leak out of his lungs when Peter groaned low and quiet. This wasn’t the time for deep thinking or introspection of any kind, yet as Donnie pulled away he couldn’t help but wonder if Peter knew just how devastating he could be.
Gretchen had told Donnie as much, seventeen and huddled alone in a darkened movie theater.
“-bleaches the pool.”
“Huh?” Donnie blinked, sprung back into place and suddenly very aware of the moisture clung to his skin.
“Oh uh, the pool. Really hope Aaron bleaches this thing before his parents get back,” He was smiling now, teeth shining in the half dark and shoulders lifting. Donnie could feel his heart slamming up against his ribs. “Who knows what people are going to get up to in here by the end of the night.”
Donnie could feel a smile of his own creeping up, hands sliding down his chest and finding a perch on Peter’s waist, right above those damn flamingos. “What, are you trying to tell me something, Graham?”
“Nah,” He leaned in again, pulling Donnie through the water until their knees knocked together. “Just want to float here for a bit, if that’s cool.”
The ‘with you’ was unspoken but understood, and that’s just what they did. The two of them amongst many others underneath the open sky.