Classic rock one shots and imagines [requests closed]

Brian Wilson #1

A/N: I don't think I ever realised how many rock stars are named Brian until I started writing this haha

There's some surfing terms in here as well, so let's see how many on you catch onto the lingo. I might make a part two, I don't know yet. 

~~~~~

My legs trailed through the chilled saltwater where I sat on the tail end of my surfboard. My toes were pruning from the amount of time I had spent in the ocean this morning. The salt on my unsubmerged upper-half shriveled my skin, and the blazing California sun continued to turn my forearms and the tip of my nose an attractive shade of golden pink. 

The sky was a gorgeous shade of light denim, and not a cloud shrouded its majesty. I felt the light waves of the ocean rock me side to side as I glanced around, waiting patiently for a new set to ride to shore. I scanned the empty beach, noticing that I was getting a little close to the private sections where expensive residences stood. I didn't think anything of it, though. Most of the houses were vacant this time of day, so once I did catch a wave to ride in, I could just walk down the shoreline back to the crowded, public section of the coast. 

I hadn't given much thought to how I had spent the first half of the day. The water lulling me into a sort of meditative state where I was one with the ocean, and the only thing that mattered was the high I felt riding a wave to shore. That feeling of being at the mercy of a power much stronger than I. The perfect combination of beauty and danger that swallowed me whole. Each dose of surfing I hit, I'd always get one ride that made me think I'd never get another one like it. The constant adrenaline and desire in each ride was what made me addicted to surfing. It was better than sex, better than any hard drug could ever come close to. And at the moment, it had come to a halt because the choppy ocean had become calm. 

I sighed, dropping my hands in the water and clenching the edges of my board in my fingers. I laid down on my stomach, crossing my arms in front of me and resting my chin on top of them. The sound of dripping of water and the sloshing of it under my board filled my ears. The unique, rippling echo of me clearing my throat against the water joined as my eyes fluttered shut. That beautiful reddish orange colour of the sun through my eyelids had me realise just how warm I was. I could feel the heat spread into my muscles, relaxing them as time went on. With the familiar coaxing suction of water beneath me, indicating the arrival of a wave, they would tense at the thought of jumping up and riding to shore. But the pull was always too weak. They were just the natural ups and downs of the water that, once close enough to shore, were mere ankle busters. I wouldn't care to open my eyes for them. I instead let a small shiver run through me while the cool Pacific water tickled my sun-kissed skin. 

"(Y/N)?" A male voice interrupted the peaceful silence. 

I furrowed my eyebrows, opening my eyes just enough to see the figure of a man just next to me on a mint green surfboard. 

"Oh my god. (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," he grinned, slowing down to enunciate each letter and syllable of my name. 

I propped myself up on my right elbow and opened eyes just a bit more. Through the teal-blue stain in my vision, I see the dark haired man. I examined his features as best as I could while my eyesight was adjusting. He had longer hair, and his short beard was the same colour as the hair on the top of his head. He had a somehow stocky yet slim build and light, golden honey coloured skin. And I only knew one person in the world with such a cheerfully laid-back tone. 

I smiled up to Brian, my eyes still squinting against the sunlight. 

"How ya been, Prom Queen?"

I nodded, "Pretty bitchin'. How 'bout you."