Chapter Text
The road to the coast was bright with late-morning light, hedgerows flashing past in streaks of green and gold. The sky was clear in that soft, endless way that only really happened in early summer, when the heat hadn’t yet turned heavy. Amaro drove with one hand resting easy on the steering wheel, the other tapping lightly against his thigh in time with the music playing low through the speakers. The windows were cracked just enough for the air to move through the car, carrying with it the faintest hint of salt.
In the backseat, Mateo was nearly vibrating out of his booster seat. “How long now?” he asked, leaning forward as far as his seatbelt would allow.
Amaro smiled without looking back. “You asked that five minutes ago.”
“That was ages ago!”
“Is it?” Amaro finally glanced in the mirror, meeting his son’s wide, expectant eyes. “Ten minutes.”
Mateo narrowed his gaze suspiciously. “You said that before.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
Amaro laughed softly. “Alright, maybe I did. But this time I mean it.”
Mateo huffed dramatically, though the corners of his mouth twitched. His curls bounced as the car rolled over a slight bump. He shifted again, then suddenly went very quiet. “Dad’s asleep.”
Amaro’s eyes drifted sideways.
Lynn was slumped gently against the passenger window, head tilted toward the glass, lashes resting against his cheeks. The sunlight pouring through the windshield warmed his skin into a deep golden brown. His open blue linen shirt fluttered faintly with the breeze from the window, revealing the white t-shirt beneath, creased where the seatbelt cut diagonally across him. His loose blue shorts rode slightly up his thighs where he’d shifted in his sleep. One hand rested palm-up in his lap, fingers curled loosely.
He was completely out.
Amaro’s expression softened. “Yeah.”
Mateo giggled under his breath. “He never sleeps in the car.”
“I know, it’s pretty strange.”
It was true. Lynn treated drives like events. He narrated everything. He got excited about petrol stations. He insisted on being in charge of music and then sang off-key like it was a concert. Beach days were usually met with borderline chaotic enthusiasm. That morning he’d been up early, triple-checking towels, packing snacks they didn’t need, reminding Mateo about sunscreen approximately fifteen times.
And then five minutes into the drive, he’d gone quiet.
Amaro had assumed he was just watching the countryside. Then he’d glanced over and realised he was asleep. “Just try not to wake him,” Amaro murmured gently.
Mateo clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle another laugh. “He looks funny.”
“He looks tired.”
Mateo studied him curiously for another moment. “Is he sick?”
The question lingered a fraction too long in the air.
“No,” Amaro said, though his voice softened. “He’s just tired. He worked late last night.”
That had to be it. Since they’d switched shifts at the bar again, Lynn had taken Fridays back. He always said he was fine, but the late nights clung to him more than he liked to admit. He pushed himself too hard sometimes. Still, the depth of his sleep unsettled Amaro faintly.
When they finally pulled into the coastal car park, the slam of Amaro’s door jolted Lynn awake. He blinked rapidly, confusion fogging his features before the sound of gulls and the steady hush of waves filtered in. “..What?” he muttered thickly.
“We’re here,” Amaro said, leaning down slightly to look at him.
Lynn squinted up at him, then past him toward the sea. “Oh.” He sat upright quickly. “Oh my god. I slept?”
“The whole way.”
“No I didn’t.”
Mateo leaned between the seats. “You snored.”
“I do not snore,” Lynn said, scandalised.
“You did,” Mateo insisted, delighted.
Lynn groaned and rubbed his face, then pushed his hair back. “That’s so embarrassing.”
“You must’ve needed it,” Amaro said simply.
The embarrassment melted quickly once Lynn stepped out of the car. The sea air hit him and his entire expression changed, eyes brightening as he took in the stretch of golden sand and glittering water. “Oh, it’s perfect,” he breathed.
The beach was warm but not oppressive, sunlight soft against their skin. The tide had rolled back just enough to leave wide ribbons of wet sand reflecting the sky. They carried their things down together; umbrella, towels, cooler bag, Mateo’s bright bucket and spade, with Lynn stubbornly insisting on carrying more than necessary.
“Give me that,” Amaro said, reaching for the heavier bag.
“I’m fine,” Lynn replied automatically.
“I know you’re fine.”
“Then let me carry it.”
Amaro rolled his eyes but let him.
Once they’d set up near the shoreline, Mateo kicked off his shoes and bolted for the water. The first cold wave hit his ankles and he shrieked, hopping backwards before running straight back in.
“It’s freezing!” Lynn exclaimed dramatically as he followed, grabbing onto Amaro’s arm as though betrayed. Whilst Mateo splashed them both without mercy.
For a while, it was easy. Lynn scooped Mateo into his arms when a slightly larger wave rolled in, spinning him around while Mateo clung to his shoulders, giggling breathlessly. Amaro watched them, chest warm and steady.
By midday, Mateo was dusted head to toe in sand. Lynn’s shirt clung slightly where it had dried from the sea. The sun hung higher now. “I’ll grab lunch,” Lynn offered, brushing sand from his legs as he stood.
“You sure?” Amaro asked.
“Yeah. You two stay put.”
Mateo looked up eagerly. “Can I come?”
“Nope, it’s a bit too far for you,” Lynn said with a grin, bending to kiss his curls. “Stay with Dad.”
The promenade was busier now, the air thick with the scent of fried food, sugar, sun cream, warm pavement. The smell hit Lynn harder than expected.
His stomach twisted sharply. He slowed slightly, pressing a hand lightly to his middle.
That’s odd.
Inside the shop, the air conditioning wrapped around him in cool relief. He lingered near the fridges longer than necessary before grabbing sandwiches, drinks, crisps for Mateo, water for himself. The fluorescent lights felt harsh. The hum of the refrigerators too loud.
By the time he stepped back outside, the dizziness had started.
It wasn’t dramatic at first. Just a faint swim at the edges of his vision. His skin felt too warm. Too tight.
He took a sip of water.
Halfway back toward the beach, nausea surged quickly and without warning. He barely made it to a bin before he was sick, not much, but enough to sting his throat and bring tears to his eyes. He stood there afterward gripping the rim, breathing carefully. “What the hell…” he muttered under his breath.
After rinsing his mouth and wiping his face, he forced himself back across the sand.
Amaro noticed immediately.
“You alright?” he called.
“Yeah,” Lynn said quickly, though his voice lacked its usual brightness. “Just hot.”
He handed over the food and then sank beneath the umbrella like his body had decided it was done standing.
Mateo happily unwrapped his sandwich, oblivious.
Amaro watched Lynn carefully for a few quiet moments. The slight pallor beneath his tan. The sheen of sweat at his temples. The way his hand rested over his stomach without him seeming to realise it. “Mateo,” Amaro said gently, “why don’t you go build that big castle you were planning?”
Mateo nodded and wandered off with his bucket.
Amaro shifted closer. “Talk to me.”
Lynn kept his eyes closed. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“I just got overheated.”
Amaro reached up and brushed his fingers gently through Lynn’s hair gently. Lynn leaned into it without thinking. Despite the nervousness inside of himself, Amaro almost smiled. He leaned down to kiss him. When he pulled back, he paused.
“…Is that vomit?”
Lynn winced slightly. “Probably.”
Amaro studied him more closely now. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Everything smelled wrong,” Lynn admitted quietly. “Not bad. Just… too much. And then I got dizzy.”
The words settled between them.
Amaro hesitated before speaking. “Lynn… is there any chance you’re pregnant?”
The question seemed to knock the air out of him.
“-What?”
“I’m just asking.”
Lynn continued staring at the horizon, as his thoughts visibly turned . “I didn’t even think about that.”
Amaro’s eyes dropped to the way Lynn’s hand had pressed more firmly against his stomach.
“If I am,” Lynn said slowly, voice smaller now, “does being sick mean something’s wrong? I felt perfectly fine with Mateo.”
“Hey.” Amaro cupped his face gently, steadying him. “No. It can be completely normal, most people get sick cuz of pregnancy, plus we don’t even know if you are. Let’s not jump ahead.”
Lynn exhaled shakily.
“We’ll get a test,” Amaro said softly. “When we get home and if you are, we’ll figure it out.”
Mateo’s laughter drifted across the sand, bright and unaware.
Lynn leaned into Amaro’s chest, eyes unfocused as he stared at the sea.
The beach was still warm.
The sun was still steady overhead.