Tyler Seguin One-Shots

All you saw was grass – seriously, just grass. The frame shook and blurred as you heard distant chatter in the background.
“C’mon, Segs. Get the camera up! What are you: five?”
“Shut up, DZ. If you want to deal with this goddamn GoPro, you wear it.”
The frame was lifted and now you saw a grinning, shirtless Michael Del Zotto. His long, brown locks was matted against his forehead and water droplets shamelessly ran down his six-packs.
“But then how would the pretty ladies back at home see this?” His grin turned cocky as he did a slow belly roll, showing off his abs. “No one wants to see you shirtless, Seggy.”
“Trust me, everyone wants to see the tats,” Seguin retorted, neither his face nor body making it to the screen. From the looks of things, neither were probably going to make an appearance.
“Well, ladies and gents back at home,” Del Zotto spoke to the GoPro, “it’s your boy, DZ, with his lovely cameraman, Tyler Seguin.”
Seguin lifted the GoPro and ducked his head, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the upside-down, grinning dork teasingly sticking his tongue out at the camera. He dropped the camera and all you saw was Del Zotto again.
“You just missed our little fun in the pool, but Cabbie stopped by before with a GoPro and five bucks –”
“– each,” Seguin interjected.
“– each,” Del Zotto repeated with a smirk, “asking us to wear this around since everyone’s been bugging him ‘bout us.”
Seguin again lifted the camera, and this time, held the screen long enough for you to see water droplets glistening in his hair. Strands of brown hair poked out from what looked like his attempt at smoothing his wet hair back, but it was adorable nevertheless. “Don’t know why you’d go from bothering us to him, but it worked,” he told the GoPro and dropped it again.
“We’re actually off to the beach now for some surfing.”
“Another thing Cabbie paid us off for.”
“And just, uh, enjoy I guess,” Del Zotto said with a grin then the screen went black.
The screen flickered back on, but now the guys were in a car. Del Zotto was driving and Seguin seemed to be holding out what seemed to be his phone (from the shittier graphics you saw), the GoPro wrapped around his bare torso.
“So, what’s a fuckboy?” Seguin asked, looking over at Del Zotto.
The driver shrugged and said, “Sounds like something you’d be.”
“And you.”
“Nah, just you.”
“And you.”
Del Zotto smirked, glancing at the camera then back at the road. “Cabbie’s sure gonna enjoy the amount of film we waste on bantering.”
“Hi, Cabbie,” Seguin greeted, grinning and waving at the camera. “And Mom.”
The screen went black, and when it came back on, all you saw was sand, ocean, and the bare, muscular back of Del Zotto as he carried a surfboard. In your right field of view, there was an object moving back and forth in the camera shot, which was Seguin’s surfboard.
“You ready to hang ten, DZ?” Seguin hollered.
Del Zotto looked back, his brown eyes covered by shades. “Cowabunga, dude.”
The next shots were of Seguin lifting his torso up enough for you to see his tattooed arms paddling against the water then of him picking himself up to his feet. Del Zotto was nowhere to be seen until you heard from behind Seguin, “Turn around, stupid! Let everyone see the Surfing King do his thing!”
“I’ll turn after we catch this –” Seguin fell forwards into the water, and when he lifted himself back up onto the surfboard, you heard faint laughter that belonged to Del Zotto. “Fuck you,” he spat, lifting himself back up but facing Del Zotto this time.
“I think we stood too soon,” Del Zotto commented, looking around at the quiet waves they were standing on top of.
The screen went black then a montage of Del Zotto surfing and fails, Seguin’s GoPro surfing and fails, and then just Seguin without the GoPro on (Del Zotto was on the beach, recording from the GoPro without wearing it on his chest).
Finally, the last scene you saw was a sunset and heard the chatter of Del Zotto and Seguin in the background.
“It’s a good thing you called yourself a ‘Surfing King.’”
“Yeah, and why’s that?”
“You’re better at surfing than at hockey.”
“I fell more times than I actually managed to successfully surf.”
“Exactly.”
Laughter filled the air as Del Zotto said, “Fuck you.” And the video was over.

Notes

Request: Michael Del Zotto and Tyler Seguin. They lived together last summer in Toronto and were practically attached at the hip, and they're living together again this summer.