Kyle Miller || Breakwater Bay Water Park Collab

The Distraction - They/Them

The bus was loud in the way a bus full of university students always was. Music blared from a small speaker, and voices overlapped as jokes and arguments bounced through the narrow aisle. The heat stuck to everything, sweat and anticipation trapped inside with them as the summer sun beat down on the metal roof.

Kyle sat halfway down the bus, one arm hooked over the back of the seat in front of him, laughing along even when he didn’t quite understand the joke. His knee bounced nonstop, energy buzzing through him as he glanced out the window repeatedly. Around him, his rugby teammates were in full chaos mode, voices louder than necessary, excitement spilling everywhere as the day ahead stretched wide and promising.

A brand-new attraction opening at the start of summer felt like a gift. Free tickets made it even better. The whole team had been given tickets as part of an advertising promotion. No practice. No drills. No expectations. Just sun, noise, and a day of fun.

Around him, Kyle’s team was at peak volume. Archie Whitaker was leaning into the aisle, loudly arguing about which slide was going to be the fastest, while Drew Reid made a comment about bikinis that earned a chorus of high-pitched whistles. Laughter erupted again, sharp and easy, filling the bus until even Kyle’s chest felt lighter for it.

Up near the front, Coach Mike O’Connell stood with his arms crossed, raising his voice to remind them to hydrate, wear sunscreen, and not do anything that would get him a phone call before lunch. Someone booed. Someone else laughed. He did not look impressed.

Breakwater Bay Water Park finally rose ahead of them in a riot of colour and movement, twisting slides catching the sunlight and water glittering in the heat as they pulled into the parking lot. A collective shout went up as the doors hissed open, letting in warm air and the sharp scent of chlorine. Kyle was on his feet instantly, throwing his bag over his shoulder and racing off the bus before anyone else.

This was going to be a good day.

Kyle barely remembered changing, only that he did it fast and half-laughing, shoving his clothes into a locker and tugging on his swim shorts with the same restless energy that had carried him off the bus. The place felt huge once they were inside, all echoing voices and rushing water, sunlight flashing off wet concrete and twisting slides overhead. Everything smelled like chlorine and sunscreen and summer.

He bounced between rides with his teammates at first, jogging to keep up, grinning like a kid as Archie dragged them toward something tall and intimidating, then Drew demanded hotdogs from one of the nearby stalls. At some point, Kyle drifted. Not on purpose. He just slowed, distracted by the noise and movement, by how many people were everywhere at once, by the simple thrill of being somewhere that expected nothing from him.

That was when he saw them.

They stood out in a way that had nothing to do with being loud or flashy. Kyle’s attention snagged without warning, his gaze catching and holding as if his brain had quietly short-circuited. He slowed, then stopped altogether, eyes tracking them without realizing he had done it. His surroundings faded into background noise, the rush of water and shouted voices dulling as he stared, openly and a little dumbly.

He took one more step without looking.

His foot hit a slick patch of concrete, water splashing up as it slid out from under him. There was a sharp, surprised sound from his own throat as he pitched forward, arms flailing in a graceless attempt to recover. He went down hard, catching himself on instinct more than grace. His palms slapped against the wet concrete as his knees hit next, momentum carrying him into an awkward half-slide that left him crouched low, one foot skidded out behind him. Water splashed up his legs, cold and embarrassing, his body reacting faster than his brain ever did.

He stayed there for a beat, heart thudding, cheeks already burning. Then muscle memory kicked in and he pushed himself upright in one smooth motion, the kind that came from years of hitting the ground and getting back up again without thinking. Water dripped from his hands as he straightened, eyes lifting automatically.

That was when he realized how close they were.

Close enough that they must have seen everything. The slip, the scramble, the very undignified landing at their feet. Mortification washed over him all at once. Kyle rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, mouth twisting into a crooked, self-conscious smile as he tried to play it off.

“Hey, don’t laugh,” he said, breathless and sheepish. “I slipped because I was distracted... by you.”

The words landed, and Kyle went completely still.

Realization crept in a split second too late. Heat rushed to his face. His brain short-circuited, every possible follow-up thought immediately abandoning him. He just stood there, frozen, water dripping from his hands, very suddenly aware of how close they were and how badly he wished he could rewind the last ten seconds.

His mouth opened, then closed again.

He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze darting anywhere but up, a nervous, crooked smile tugging at his lips as he struggled to recover from his own honesty.

The Distraction - She/Her

The bus was loud in the way a bus full of university students always was. Music blared from a small speaker, and voices overlapped as jokes and arguments bounced through the narrow aisle. The heat stuck to everything, sweat and anticipation trapped inside with them as the summer sun beat down on the metal roof.

Kyle sat halfway down the bus, one arm hooked over the back of the seat in front of him, laughing along even when he didn’t quite understand the joke. His knee bounced nonstop, energy buzzing through him as he glanced out the window repeatedly. Around him, his rugby teammates were in full chaos mode, voices louder than necessary, excitement spilling everywhere as the day ahead stretched wide and promising.

A brand-new attraction opening at the start of summer felt like a gift. Free tickets made it even better. The whole team had been given tickets as part of an advertising promotion. No practice. No drills. No expectations. Just sun, noise, and a day of fun.

Around him, Kyle’s team was at peak volume. Archie Whitaker was leaning into the aisle, loudly arguing about which slide was going to be the fastest, while Drew Reid made a comment about bikinis that earned a chorus of high-pitched whistles. Laughter erupted again, sharp and easy, filling the bus until even Kyle’s chest felt lighter for it.

Up near the front, Coach Mike O’Connell stood with his arms crossed, raising his voice to remind them to hydrate, wear sunscreen, and not do anything that would get him a phone call before lunch. Someone booed. Someone else laughed. He did not look impressed.

Breakwater Bay Water Park finally rose ahead of them in a riot of colour and movement, twisting slides catching the sunlight and water glittering in the heat as they pulled into the parking lot. A collective shout went up as the doors hissed open, letting in warm air and the sharp scent of chlorine. Kyle was on his feet instantly, throwing his bag over his shoulder and racing off the bus before anyone else.

This was going to be a good day.

Kyle barely remembered changing, only that he did it fast and half-laughing, shoving his clothes into a locker and tugging on his swim shorts with the same restless energy that had carried him off the bus. The place felt huge once they were inside, all echoing voices and rushing water, sunlight flashing off wet concrete and twisting slides overhead. Everything smelled like chlorine and sunscreen and summer.

He bounced between rides with his teammates at first, jogging to keep up, grinning like a kid as Archie dragged them toward something tall and intimidating, then Drew demanded hotdogs from one of the nearby stalls. At some point, Kyle drifted. Not on purpose. He just slowed, distracted by the noise and movement, by how many people were everywhere at once, by the simple thrill of being somewhere that expected nothing from him.

That was when he saw her.

She stood out in a way that had nothing to do with being loud or flashy. Kyle’s attention snagged without warning, his gaze catching and holding as if his brain had quietly short-circuited. He slowed, then stopped altogether, eyes tracking her without realizing he had done it. His surroundings faded into background noise, the rush of water and shouted voices dulling as he stared, openly and a little dumbly.

He took one more step without looking.

His foot hit a slick patch of concrete, water splashing up as it slid out from under him. There was a sharp, surprised sound from his own throat as he pitched forward, arms flailing in a graceless attempt to recover. He went down hard, catching himself on instinct more than grace. His palms slapped against the wet concrete as his knees hit next, momentum carrying him into an awkward half-slide that left him crouched low, one foot skidded out behind him. Water splashed up his legs, cold and embarrassing, his body reacting faster than his brain ever did.

He stayed there for a beat, heart thudding, cheeks already burning. Then muscle memory kicked in and he pushed himself upright in one smooth motion, the kind that came from years of hitting the ground and getting back up again without thinking. Water dripped from his hands as he straightened, eyes lifting automatically.

That was when he realized how close she was.

Close enough that she must have seen everything. The slip, the scramble, the very undignified landing at her feet. Mortification washed over him all at once. Kyle rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, mouth twisting into a crooked, self-conscious smile as he tried to play it off.

“Hey, don’t laugh,” he said, breathless and sheepish. “I slipped because I was distracted... by you.”

The words landed, and Kyle went completely still.

Realization crept in a split second too late. Heat rushed to his face. His brain short-circuited, every possible follow-up thought immediately abandoning him. He just stood there, frozen, water dripping from his hands, very suddenly aware of how close she was and how badly he wished he could rewind the last ten seconds.

His mouth opened, then closed again.

He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze darting anywhere but up, a nervous, crooked smile tugging at his lips as he struggled to recover from his own honesty.

The Distraction - He/Him

The bus was loud in the way a bus full of university students always was. Music blared from a small speaker, and voices overlapped as jokes and arguments bounced through the narrow aisle. The heat stuck to everything, sweat and anticipation trapped inside with them as the summer sun beat down on the metal roof.

Kyle sat halfway down the bus, one arm hooked over the back of the seat in front of him, laughing along even when he didn’t quite understand the joke. His knee bounced nonstop, energy buzzing through him as he glanced out the window repeatedly. Around him, his rugby teammates were in full chaos mode, voices louder than necessary, excitement spilling everywhere as the day ahead stretched wide and promising.

A brand-new attraction opening at the start of summer felt like a gift. Free tickets made it even better. The whole team had been given tickets as part of an advertising promotion. No practice. No drills. No expectations. Just sun, noise, and a day of fun.

Around him, Kyle’s team was at peak volume. Archie Whitaker was leaning into the aisle, loudly arguing about which slide was going to be the fastest, while Drew Reid made a comment about bikinis that earned a chorus of high-pitched whistles. Laughter erupted again, sharp and easy, filling the bus until even Kyle’s chest felt lighter for it.

Up near the front, Coach Mike O’Connell stood with his arms crossed, raising his voice to remind them to hydrate, wear sunscreen, and not do anything that would get him a phone call before lunch. Someone booed. Someone else laughed. He did not look impressed.

Breakwater Bay Water Park finally rose ahead of them in a riot of colour and movement, twisting slides catching the sunlight and water glittering in the heat as they pulled into the parking lot. A collective shout went up as the doors hissed open, letting in warm air and the sharp scent of chlorine. Kyle was on his feet instantly, throwing his bag over his shoulder and racing off the bus before anyone else.

This was going to be a good day.

Kyle barely remembered changing, only that he did it fast and half-laughing, shoving his clothes into a locker and tugging on his swim shorts with the same restless energy that had carried him off the bus. The place felt huge once they were inside, all echoing voices and rushing water, sunlight flashing off wet concrete and twisting slides overhead. Everything smelled like chlorine and sunscreen and summer.

Kyle bounced between rides with his teammates at first, jogging to keep up, grinning like a kid as Archie dragged them toward something tall and intimidating, then Drew demanded hotdogs from one of the nearby stalls. At some point, Kyle drifted. Not on purpose. He just slowed, distracted by the noise and movement, by how many people were everywhere at once, by the simple thrill of being somewhere that expected nothing from him.

That was when he saw him.

The other guy stood out in a way that had nothing to do with being loud or flashy. Kyle’s attention snagged without warning, his gaze catching and holding as if his brain had quietly short-circuited. He slowed, then stopped altogether, eyes tracking the stranger without realizing he he was doing it. His surroundings faded into background noise, the rush of water and shouted voices dulling as he stared, openly and a little dumbly.

Kyle took one more step without looking.

His foot hit a slick patch of concrete, water splashing up as it slid out from under him. There was a sharp, surprised sound from his throat as he pitched forward, arms flailing in a graceless attempt to recover. He went down hard, catching himself on instinct more than grace. His palms slapped against the wet concrete as his knees hit next, momentum carrying him into an awkward half-slide that left him crouched low, one foot skidded out behind him. Water splashed up his legs, cold and embarrassing, his body reacting faster than his brain ever did.

Kyle stayed there for a beat, heart thudding, cheeks already burning. Then muscle memory kicked in and he pushed himself upright in one smooth motion, the kind that came from years of hitting the ground and getting back up again without thinking. Water dripped from his hands as he straightened, eyes lifting automatically.

That was when Kyle realized how close the stranger was.

Close enough that he must have seen everything. The slip, the scramble, the very undignified landing at his feet. Mortification washed over Kyle all at once. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, mouth twisting into a crooked, self-conscious smile as he tried to play it off.

“Hey, don’t laugh,” Kyle said, breathless and sheepish. “I slipped because I was distracted... by you.”

The words landed, and Kyle went completely still.

Realization crept in a split second too late. Heat rushed to his face. His brain short-circuited, every possible follow-up thought immediately abandoning him. He just stood there, frozen, water dripping from his hands, very suddenly aware of how close the other guy was and how badly he wished he could rewind the last ten seconds.

Kyle’s mouth opened, then closed again.

He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze darting anywhere but up, a nervous, crooked smile tugging at his lips as he struggled to recover from his own honesty.

The Push - They/Them

The bus was loud in the way a bus full of university students always was. Music blared from a small speaker, and voices overlapped as jokes and arguments bounced through the narrow aisle. The heat stuck to everything, sweat and anticipation trapped inside with them as the summer sun beat down on the metal roof.

Kyle sat halfway down the bus, one arm hooked over the back of the seat in front of him, laughing along even when he didn’t quite understand the joke. His knee bounced nonstop, energy buzzing through him as he glanced out the window repeatedly. Around him, his rugby teammates were in full chaos mode, voices louder than necessary, excitement spilling everywhere as the day ahead stretched wide and promising.

A brand-new attraction opening at the start of summer felt like a gift. Free tickets made it even better. The whole team had been given tickets as part of an advertising promotion. No practice. No drills. No expectations. Just sun, noise, and a day of fun.

Around him, Kyle’s team was at peak volume. Archie Whitaker was leaning into the aisle, loudly arguing about which slide was going to be the fastest, while Drew Reid made a comment about bikinis that earned a chorus of high-pitched whistles. Laughter erupted again, sharp and easy, filling the bus until even Kyle’s chest felt lighter for it.

Up near the front, Coach Mike O’Connell stood with his arms crossed, raising his voice to remind them to hydrate, wear sunscreen, and not do anything that would get him a phone call before lunch. Someone booed. Someone else laughed. He did not look impressed.

Breakwater Bay Water Park finally rose ahead of them in a riot of colour and movement, twisting slides catching the sunlight and water glittering in the heat as they pulled into the parking lot. A collective shout went up as the doors hissed open, letting in warm air and the sharp scent of chlorine. Kyle was on his feet instantly, throwing his bag over his shoulder and racing off the bus before anyone else.

This was going to be a good day.

Kyle barely remembered changing, only that he did it fast and half-laughing, shoving his clothes into a locker and tugging on his swim shorts with the same restless energy that had carried him off the bus. The place felt huge once they were inside, all echoing voices and rushing water, sunlight flashing off wet concrete and twisting slides overhead. Everything smelled like chlorine and sunscreen and summer.

He stuck with the group at first, weaving through the crowds as they drifted toward one of the taller slides, the kind with a long, winding drop and a queue that wrapped back on itself. The line moved slowly, bodies packed close together, voices rising and falling as people shuffled forward.

That was when Kyle noticed them.

They stood a few places ahead, alone, waiting near the front as attendants handed out the blue two-person inflatable rings one at a time. Kyle’s gaze caught without warning, lingering longer than he meant it to. He looked away, then back again, telling himself not to stare while doing a very bad job of it.

Drew noticed immediately.

He followed Kyle’s line of sight, grinned, and leaned in close enough to bump his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, loud and pleased with himself. “Perfect timing.”

Kyle frowned. “For what?”

The line advanced. The attendant gestured forward, pulling one of the large rings into place at the top of the slide. Before Kyle could realise what was happening, Drew clapped a hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him forward.

“No, wait...” Kyle started.

Too late.

Suddenly he was climbing into the ring beside the person he’d been staring at, all awkward limbs and rushed apologies as the attendant rattled off instructions. There was no graceful way out without holding up the line. Kyle shot Drew a look over his shoulder.

Drew just grinned and waved.

Then the ring was pushed forward, gravity took over, and the slide dropped away beneath them.

The rush hit instantly. Water sprayed up around them as the ring twisted and picked up speed, the slide banking hard enough that Kyle’s laugh tore out of him without permission. The ring spun once, then again, the force pressing them together as the water roared past.

They hit the pool at the bottom faster than he expected.

The ring tipped sideways on impact, momentum throwing them off balance as they tumbled into the water in a mess of limbs and splashing. Kyle reacted on instinct, arms coming up automatically as he grabbed hold to keep them from going fully under, bracing his feet against the pool floor as the water churned around them.

For a second, it was pure chaos.

Then Kyle found his footing, steadying them both as the ring bobbed uselessly beside them. He laughed, breathless and bright, water dripping from his hair as he looked at them properly for the first time up close.

“Hey,” he said, still grinning, hands lingering just long enough to make sure they were steady. “You okay?”

The Push - She/Her

The bus was loud in the way a bus full of university students always was. Music blared from a small speaker, and voices overlapped as jokes and arguments bounced through the narrow aisle. The heat stuck to everything, sweat and anticipation trapped inside with them as the summer sun beat down on the metal roof.

Kyle sat halfway down the bus, one arm hooked over the back of the seat in front of him, laughing along even when he didn’t quite understand the joke. His knee bounced nonstop, energy buzzing through him as he glanced out the window repeatedly. Around him, his rugby teammates were in full chaos mode, voices louder than necessary, excitement spilling everywhere as the day ahead stretched wide and promising.

A brand-new attraction opening at the start of summer felt like a gift. Free tickets made it even better. The whole team had been given tickets as part of an advertising promotion. No practice. No drills. No expectations. Just sun, noise, and a day of fun.

Around him, Kyle’s team was at peak volume. Archie Whitaker was leaning into the aisle, loudly arguing about which slide was going to be the fastest, while Drew Reid made a comment about bikinis that earned a chorus of high-pitched whistles. Laughter erupted again, sharp and easy, filling the bus until even Kyle’s chest felt lighter for it.

Up near the front, Coach Mike O’Connell stood with his arms crossed, raising his voice to remind them to hydrate, wear sunscreen, and not do anything that would get him a phone call before lunch. Someone booed. Someone else laughed. He did not look impressed.

Breakwater Bay Water Park finally rose ahead of them in a riot of colour and movement, twisting slides catching the sunlight and water glittering in the heat as they pulled into the parking lot. A collective shout went up as the doors hissed open, letting in warm air and the sharp scent of chlorine. Kyle was on his feet instantly, throwing his bag over his shoulder and racing off the bus before anyone else.

This was going to be a good day.

Kyle barely remembered changing, only that he did it fast and half-laughing, shoving his clothes into a locker and tugging on his swim shorts with the same restless energy that had carried him off the bus. The place felt huge once they were inside, all echoing voices and rushing water, sunlight flashing off wet concrete and twisting slides overhead. Everything smelled like chlorine and sunscreen and summer.

He stuck with the group at first, weaving through the crowds as they drifted toward one of the taller slides, the kind with a long, winding drop and a queue that wrapped back on itself. The line moved slowly, bodies packed close together, voices rising and falling as people shuffled forward.

That was when Kyle noticed her.

She stood a few places ahead, alone, waiting near the front as attendants handed out the blue two-person inflatable rings one at a time. Kyle’s gaze caught without warning, lingering longer than he meant it to. He looked away, then back again, telling himself not to stare while doing a very bad job of it.

Drew noticed immediately.

He followed Kyle’s line of sight, grinned, and leaned in close enough to bump his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, loud and pleased with himself. “Perfect timing.”

Kyle frowned. “For what?”

The line advanced. The attendant gestured forward, pulling one of the large rings into place at the top of the slide. Before Kyle could realise what was happening, Drew clapped a hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him forward.

“No, wait...” Kyle started.

Too late.

Suddenly he was climbing into the ring beside the girl he’d been staring at, all awkward limbs and rushed apologies as the attendant rattled off instructions. There was no graceful way out without holding up the line. Kyle shot Drew a look over his shoulder.

Drew just grinned and waved.

Then the ring was pushed forward, gravity took over, and the slide dropped away beneath them.

The rush hit instantly. Water sprayed up around them as the ring twisted and picked up speed, the slide banking hard enough that Kyle’s laugh tore out of him without permission. The ring spun once, then again, the force pressing them together as the water roared past.

They hit the pool at the bottom faster than he expected.

The ring tipped sideways on impact, momentum throwing them off balance as they tumbled into the water in a mess of limbs and splashing. Kyle reacted on instinct, arms coming up automatically as he grabbed hold to keep her from going fully under, bracing his feet against the pool floor as the water churned around them.

For a second, it was pure chaos.

Then Kyle found his footing, steadying her as the ring bobbed uselessly beside them. He laughed, breathless and bright, water dripping from his hair as he looked at her properly for the first time up close.

“Hey,” he said, still grinning, hands lingering just long enough to make sure she was steady. “You okay?”

The Push - He/Him

The bus was loud in the way a bus full of university students always was. Music blared from a small speaker, and voices overlapped as jokes and arguments bounced through the narrow aisle. The heat stuck to everything, sweat and anticipation trapped inside with them as the summer sun beat down on the metal roof.

Kyle sat halfway down the bus, one arm hooked over the back of the seat in front of him, laughing along even when he didn’t quite understand the joke. His knee bounced nonstop, energy buzzing through him as he glanced out the window repeatedly. Around him, his rugby teammates were in full chaos mode, voices louder than necessary, excitement spilling everywhere as the day ahead stretched wide and promising.

A brand-new attraction opening at the start of summer felt like a gift. Free tickets made it even better. The whole team had been given tickets as part of an advertising promotion. No practice. No drills. No expectations. Just sun, noise, and a day of fun.

Around him, Kyle’s team was at peak volume. Archie Whitaker was leaning into the aisle, loudly arguing about which slide was going to be the fastest, while Drew Reid made a comment about bikinis that earned a chorus of high-pitched whistles. Laughter erupted again, sharp and easy, filling the bus until even Kyle’s chest felt lighter for it.

Up near the front, Coach Mike O’Connell stood with his arms crossed, raising his voice to remind them to hydrate, wear sunscreen, and not do anything that would get him a phone call before lunch. Someone booed. Someone else laughed. He did not look impressed.

Breakwater Bay Water Park finally rose ahead of them in a riot of colour and movement, twisting slides catching the sunlight and water glittering in the heat as they pulled into the parking lot. A collective shout went up as the doors hissed open, letting in warm air and the sharp scent of chlorine. Kyle was on his feet instantly, throwing his bag over his shoulder and racing off the bus before anyone else.

This was going to be a good day.

Kyle barely remembered changing, only that he did it fast and half-laughing, shoving his clothes into a locker and tugging on his swim shorts with the same restless energy that had carried him off the bus. The place felt huge once they were inside, all echoing voices and rushing water, sunlight flashing off wet concrete and twisting slides overhead. Everything smelled like chlorine and sunscreen and summer.

Kyle stuck with the group at first, weaving through the crowds as they drifted toward one of the taller slides, the kind with a long, winding drop and a queue that wrapped back on itself. The line moved slowly, bodies packed close together, voices rising and falling as people shuffled forward.

That was when Kyle noticed him.

The other guy stood a few places ahead, alone, waiting near the front as attendants handed out the blue two-person inflatable rings one at a time. Kyle’s gaze caught without warning, lingering longer than he meant it to. He looked away, then back again, telling himself not to stare while doing a very bad job of it.

Drew noticed immediately.

He followed Kyle’s line of sight, grinned, and leaned in close enough to bump Kyle’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Drew said, loud and pleased with himself. “Perfect timing.”

Kyle frowned. “For what?”

The line advanced. The attendant gestured forward, pulling one of the large rings into place at the top of the slide. Before Kyle could realise what was happening, Drew clapped a hand between his shoulder blades and pushed him forward.

“No, wait...” Kyle started.

Too late.

Suddenly Kyle was climbing into the ring beside the guy he’d been staring at, all awkward limbs and rushed apologies as the attendant rattled off instructions. There was no graceful way out without holding up the line. Kyle shot Drew a look over his shoulder.

Drew just grinned and waved.

Then the ring was pushed forward, gravity took over, and the slide dropped away beneath them.

The rush hit instantly. Water sprayed up around them as the ring twisted and picked up speed, the slide banking hard enough that Kyle’s laugh tore out of him without permission. The ring spun once, then again, the force pressing them together as the water roared past.

They hit the pool at the bottom faster than Kyle expected.

The ring tipped sideways on impact, momentum throwing them off balance as they tumbled into the water in a mess of limbs and splashing. Kyle reacted on instinct, arms coming up automatically as he grabbed hold to keep the other guy from going fully under, bracing his feet against the pool floor as the water churned around them.

For a second, it was pure chaos.

Then Kyle found his footing, steadying the guy as the ring bobbed uselessly beside them. He laughed, breathless and bright, water dripping from his hair as he looked at him properly for the first time up close.

“Hey,” Kyle said, still grinning, hands lingering just long enough to make sure he was steady. “You okay?”

Lazy River - They/Them

The bus was loud in the way a bus full of university students always was. Music blared from a small speaker, and voices overlapped as jokes and arguments bounced through the narrow aisle. The heat stuck to everything, sweat and anticipation trapped inside with them as the summer sun beat down on the metal roof.

Kyle sat halfway down the bus, one arm hooked over the back of the seat in front of him, laughing along even when he didn’t quite understand the joke. His knee bounced nonstop, energy buzzing through him as he glanced out the window repeatedly. Around him, his rugby teammates were in full chaos mode, voices louder than necessary, excitement spilling everywhere as the day ahead stretched wide and promising.

A brand-new attraction opening at the start of summer felt like a gift. Free tickets made it even better. The whole team had been given tickets as part of an advertising promotion. No practice. No drills. No expectations. Just sun, noise, and a day of fun.

Around him, Kyle’s team was at peak volume. Archie Whitaker was leaning into the aisle, loudly arguing about which slide was going to be the fastest, while Drew Reid made a comment about bikinis that earned a chorus of high-pitched whistles. Laughter erupted again, sharp and easy, filling the bus until even Kyle’s chest felt lighter for it.

Up near the front, Coach Mike O’Connell stood with his arms crossed, raising his voice to remind them to hydrate, wear sunscreen, and not do anything that would get him a phone call before lunch. Someone booed. Someone else laughed. He did not look impressed.

Breakwater Bay Water Park finally rose ahead of them in a riot of colour and movement, twisting slides catching the sunlight and water glittering in the heat as they pulled into the parking lot. A collective shout went up as the doors hissed open, letting in warm air and the sharp scent of chlorine. Kyle was on his feet instantly, throwing his bag over his shoulder and racing off the bus before anyone else.

This was going to be a good day.

--

Kyle barely remembered changing, only that he did it fast and half-laughing, shoving his clothes into a locker and tugging on his swim shorts with the same restless energy that had carried him off the bus. The place felt huge once they were inside, all echoing voices and rushing water, sunlight flashing off wet concrete and twisting slides overhead. Everything smelled like chlorine and sunscreen and summer.

He bounced between rides with his teammates at first, half-jogging to keep up as Archie pulled them one way and Drew tried to reroute the group toward lemonade, then back again when someone spotted a shorter line. Kyle laughed and followed, letting himself be tugged along from one thing to the next, the day unfolding too fast to settle into any single plan.

The heat crept up on him more than the rides did. Not exhaustion, just that heavy, sun-soaked buzz that made everything feel louder and faster than it needed to be. Kyle brushed it off at first, sticking with the group longer than he probably should have, but eventually the need to slow down tugged at him.

He peeled away on impulse, nodding vaguely in the direction of the lazy river like it had always been the plan. A break. A chance to float instead of move. Kyle grabbed one of the oversized inflatable blue rings and slid into the water with a quiet breath of relief.

This was better.

The current carried him easily, cool water lapping against his arms as he leaned back into the float. Sunlight filtered through gaps in the canopy of palm trees overhead, the noise fading into something softer and more distant. He let himself drift, muscles loose, mind finally unhooking from the constant pull to keep up.

The river curved ahead, narrowing as the current funnelled floats closer together. With his eyes closed, he didn’t notice when his ring drifted forward at the same time as someone else’s, the edges bumping and catching with a soft, plasticky squeak.

Kyle opened his eyes just in time to realize what had happened.

The two oversized rings were pressed side by side, wedged awkwardly in the narrow stretch of the river. Too wide to slip through together, too firmly held by the current to drift apart. The water continued to push, nudging them closer instead of letting either float free.

He frowned, lifting his head as he tried to shift his weight. The rings dragged against each other, stubborn and unmoving.

“Oh, c’mon,” he muttered under his breath.

Before he could overthink it, he slipped off the ring and dropped into the water beside it, feet finding the pool floor easily. The current tugged at his legs as he grabbed the edge of his float, bracing himself and pushing gently, trying to ease the rings apart without jostling the other one too much.

For a moment, it seemed like it might work. The pressure eased slightly, the rings shifting just enough to give him hope. Then the current surged again, dragging them unevenly and tipping the other float sideways.

Kyle reacted without thinking.

He reached out immediately, grabbing the edge of the ring to steady it before it could flip, water pushing hard against his legs as he braced himself. The float rocked again and his grip slipped, his hand brushing briefly against a bare thigh as he tried to keep it upright.

Kyle froze.

The contact was accidental, fleeting, but it snapped his attention into place all at once. He lifted his head, eyes catching on the person in the ring for the first time. He registered a startled expression, sunlight glinting off of wet skin, and felt a sudden, unexpected lurch in his chest.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, too fast and too earnest, already flustered as heat rushed up his neck.

It took him a second too long to realize his hand was still there.

Kyle pulled back immediately, fingers curling into his palm as he straightened, embarrassment crashing in all at once. His heart was still pounding, not from the effort, but from the abrupt awareness of how quickly the moment had shifted and how badly he’d underestimated it.

He turned back just in time to see his ring drifting away down the river, already a few feet out of reach. The current carried it forward without hesitation, bobbing along without him.

He watched it drift another foot away before panicking.

“No, no,” he said, turning and splashing after it without a second thought.

He lunged forward through the water, arms pumping uselessly as the current carried the float just out of reach, the ring bobbing ahead of him like it was actively avoiding capture. Kyle huffed out a breathless laugh as he chased it, finally managing to snag the edge and drag it back toward himself.

He turned back, wet hair plastered to his forehead, grin wide and unapologetic as if the whole thing had been intentional.

“Okay,” he said, scratching his head. “Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen.”

.