Title - Cutback

Author - Lena

Website: www.geocities.com/simpleadorationtwo/

Pairing - Ron/Draco, past Ron/Harry

Rating - R

Warning - AU, past character death

Genre - AU, Romance, Drama

Spoilers - Can't think of any.

Disclaimers - I don't own Harry or Ron or anything in the HP world. JKR does (and Warner Bros, et al).

Feedback - [email protected]

Summary - Ron falls hard for someone new for the first time since his true love's death.

Acknowledgements - Lorien_Eve. She betas and listens to me. I'm so glad.

Author's Note - 'Cutback' is a surfing term for a surfer who reverses the direction they are going, hopefully in a smooth, fluid motion.

Chapter One

The surfer looked out upon the still waters. It was too late in the morning to get in any surfing. He knew when he woke late that morning that he probably missed out for the day. He frowned to himself.

There were a few people on the beach, as it was a weekend day. He didn't need to rush off to work, so hauling his surfboard onto his shoulder, he slowly walked down the beach to his van.

He kicked at the small waves coming in, barely reaching the tops of his feet. He splashed the water up onto the dry sand ahead. He continued walking until he reached the pier and stepped in the sand to reach the stairs.

As he reached the first step, he looked up and saw a man fishing out on the pier. He couldn't get a very good look at him, as he was rather far away and had a dark blue floppy hat covering his head.

The surfer decided to go up to the pier and take a closer look. He lightly climbed the steps in his bare feet and reached the top. He saw that the man was looking over the edge at his line in the water. The pole was leaning leisurely against the railing. The man had a tackle box, a bucket, and a small cooler on the bench next to him.

He continued walking with his board up on his shoulder, deftly balancing it from all his years of surfing. He got closer and saw that the man was wearing an orange t-shirt, light blue board shorts and deck shoes. The surfer noted the lack of caring on the man's part for his attire, but then he was just fishing by himself, so didn't feel the need to be impressive.

The surfer realized that the man probably fished or visited the beach a lot, because his hair was straw-like, sticking out from under the hat, very dry from the salt and sun. It was a bright red that clashed with his orange shirt.

The man reached down, opened his tackle box and dug through it, before he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small can and pulled something out of it. He held the item in his palm as he lifted his fishing rod and spun the reel, until the line was within his grasp. He reached over the railing and pulled it closer to him and looked at the hook. He placed the item in his palm on the hook, making sure it was secure before he dropped the line over the pier's edge. The man loosened his reel and let the line fall into the water.

The surfer walked closer, then swung his board off his shoulder and gently let the bottom tip rest on the planks of the pier. The slight thud caused the man to look up. The surfer noticed the man was pale, with lots of freckles and leftover pink patches of sunburn on his nose.

The surfer said, "Any luck?"

"Not much. Not today, anyway," said the man nodding at his fishing rod.

"Too bad."

"No surf, it looks like, either."

"Nope. Not a good day, I guess."

The man grinned at him. "No surf and no fish. Well, at least we aren't at work."

"That's true." The surfer smiled back. The surfer walked closer, reaching the bench and leaned his surfboard against it.

The man reached down and opened the cooler. He took out a can. "Wanna beer?"

"Sure." The surfer reached for the beer, popped it open and rested his body against the pier railing. The man grabbed one for himself, opened it and took a sip.

“What’s your name?”

“Ron. Yours?”

“Draco.”

“That’s an interesting name.”

“Yeah, my parents were very strange.”

They smiled at each other.

The surfer noticed how cute the man was with his straw hair, his quirky outfit and his lop-sided smile.

The man noticed how handsome the surfer was with his long blond hair, with the bangs hanging in his eyes and the well-developed toned body. He had an urge to wipe his finger on the zinc-covered nose, but maintained his distance.

"It is a nice day, though."

Draco agreed. The two men looked out upon the water, gazing to the islands, wondering who should start something first.

The fishing rod jiggled and Ron dropped his can to the bench as he leaped for it. He pulled it back, bending the rod, holding the reel and saying silent prayers that there was a fish at the other end. He began spinning the reel, pulling the line in, and it bent the rod again.

The surfer watched him in amazement. He seemed to know the exact thing to do, as Draco did when he landed the perfect wave.

Ron pulled the rod up, dipping it down again, while spinning the reel, trying to pull the line in. Finally, the surfer heard a splash and he leaned his head over the edge to see the end of the line. There was a medium-sized fish on the other end, wriggling, trying to get free itself, to no avail. He pulled the line up and over the rail, grabbing the line and steering the fish into the bucket.

The bucket moved and Draco grabbed to steady it. The fish tried to jump out, but between the two men, it stayed in the bucket and finally stopped moving. Ron had his hands on the fish, while the surfer had the bucket. They were very close to each other. They looked up and were within inches of the other's face.

"After we see how many fish we can catch this morning...would you like to come over for lunch?" Ron surprised himself at his boldness.

Draco smiled and said, "Yeah."

*****

It was just before noon as the surfer and the man walked down the promenade adjacent to the parking lot at the beach. Ron said he lived in a small beach cottage on one of the dead-end alleys near the sand.

Draco carried his board on his shoulder and the bucket of three fish in his free hand. Ron carried his cooler, tackle box and fishing rod. At the end of the promenade, he turned to the right to the street parallel to the shore. At the third corner, he turned left into a small alley with three small houses on each side. The surfer followed.

Ron stopped at the house in the middle on the right hand side. It was a very simple house. It was beige with a small window to the right of a door with a broken screen in front of it. He put down all his things and leaned the fishing rod against the house. He rummaged in his pockets for the key, and producing it, opened the door.

He picked up his fishing rod and the cooler and walked into the house. Draco placed the bucket just inside the house and lowered his board from his shoulder so he could bring it in the house. He leaned it against a wall. Ron leaned his rod next to the board, flipped off his hat, and threw it on the couch. Then he walked the cooler into the kitchen.

"Would you mind bringing the fish in here?"

Draco picked up the bucket and followed into the kitchen.

Ron gestured to the counter and the surfer placed the bucket on top of the tile.

"Thanks!"

"Sure." Draco stood, not quite knowing what he should do next. Ron grabbed the bucket and put it in the sink and turned on the water. He placed his hands in the bucket.

"Want me to help?"

Ron looked up at him and said, "Okay." He handed him a fish and turned the water into the other sink. Draco put the fish under the water to rinse it. Ron dumped the water out of the bucket and filled it with fresh.

"Well, this is going to take a while to get these ready and I'm hungry now...want some sandwiches?"

"Okay, but since I helped catch these, I'll have to come over for dinner?" asked the surfer shyly.

Ron grinned his lop-sided grin. "Oh, yes!" The man washed his hands off and went to the refrigerator, opened it and peered in. “Hmmmmm...”

The surfer washed his hands and turned to look at Ron. He had his hand leaning on his knee as he was crouched down looking at what little food he had. He pulled out a loaf of bread, a package of sliced luncheon meat that he sniffed before tossing on the counter, and a jar of mayonnaise.

He looked at the surfer sheepishly before saying, “Sorry.”

Draco was amused and said, “That’s okay. Anything is alright.” He felt himself blush a little. He didn’t know why he was being so shy. He usually was very forward, but something about this particular fellow was familiar. He knew he had never met him before, but he felt like they had a connection.

Ron ran a hand through his hair and it got caught for a moment. He untangled his hand from his hair and looked annoyed. His hair was sprouting in all directions. The surfer pursed his lips together so he wouldn’t laugh. He thought Ron was adorable and really felt like kissing him, but refrained.

Ron opened a drawer, retrieved a butter knife and pulled slices of bread out of the package. The surfer reached for the luncheon meat and opened it. It looked safe enough. As Ron spread mayonnaise on the slices, Draco placed the meat on top. Together, they made four sandwiches in all.

Ron reached above the refrigerator, pulled down a bag of opened chips and threw them on the counter. “Wanna beer?” The surfer nodded his head and Ron pulled open the refrigerator again and pulled out two beers.

“Let’s go eat in the living room.” Ron grabbed the chips and two of the sandwiches, and tucking his beer under his arm, walked out to the other room. Draco grabbed a few paper towels and his sandwiches, and tucking his beer under his arm, followed.

Ron flopped down on his lumpy couch and laid his food and drink on the low table in front of him. Draco stood and looked at him for a moment. He was an interesting fellow. Not pretentious at all, a real honest sort of guy.

Ron looked up at him, with a mouthful of sandwich, said, “Gonna sit?”

The surfer shook himself out of his trance and sat down. He looked around the room. He wondered what the man did for a living. The place was sparsely decorated. He had an older television across the room and besides the couch and low table, there was a recliner in the corner and a stereo on a rickety stand.

Draco reached down and took a bite of his sandwich. It tasted much more delicious than it probably really was, because he was happy. He wondered if he should make a move. Ron seemed to like him, but he didn’t want him to think that just because the man had invited him to his house, that meant he could take advantage.

He glanced over at Ron, who was shoveling food into his mouth and not seeming to pay attention. Ron tried to peer out of the corner of his eye, to see if Draco was looking at him. Though he wasn’t entirely sure, he did kind of wish the surfer would make a move; after all, he’d invited him over to his house.

When Ron swallowed, the surfer asked, “Where do you work?”

The man sipped his beer and said casually, “Uh...I work for the police department.”

Draco choked on the chips he had in his mouth and said, “What? Are you...a cop?”

“Is that a problem?” asked Ron, narrowing his eyes.

“Uh, no...just...uh...you...I...uh...” The surfer was stammering badly.

Ron’s eyes widen. “Oh! No! I’m not on duty or anything!”

Draco looked at him. “Oh...”

Ron continued softly, “I’m allowed to have a social life, even if I am a cop.”

“Of course. I just don’t think I would have ever guessed.”

“I think that’s a good thing.” Ron leaned back with his beer in his hand. He continued, “What do you do?”

Draco smirked and said, “I work in a surf shop and go to the university. It‘s taken me a while. Too much surfing to keep up with studies.”

Ron laughed heartily. “Now, that’s not surprising!”

Now that they were comfortable again, they continued chatting about their individual lives. They finished their sandwiches and beers and the surfer felt like it was time to go.

He stammered, “Well, I guess...I should go...”

Ron got quiet, and started to pick up the used paper towels and empty beer cans.

“Maybe, I can...” Draco’s words faded in the air.

“Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? I’ll make our fish.” Ron looked hopeful, but knew he was being bold again, something he wasn't used to.

“Oh, yes, I’d like that a lot. I have to work until the store closes at five, but after that?”

Ron grinned and said, “Yes, come on over when you get off work.”

Ron quickly walked into the kitchen and disposed of the trash, then came back out to say good-bye. He walked Draco to the door. The surfer picked up his surfboard and placed it under his arm, so he could get out the door.

Draco felt like he should say something else, but he blurting out, “I really like you.” He could feel himself get red.

“I like you, too,” said Ron. “See you tomorrow.”

The surfer bent his head shyly and said, “Yeah, tomorrow.”