Ecstasy: Summer Lovin' - lialure (sunflia2) (2024)

Chapter Text

┃ CORAL POINT, NY. 2003.

For as long as Jisung could remember, Coral Point was home.

　　　　It was something about the salt-laden breeze that danced through the long, wild grass that stretched formilesbefore the dunes on the very tip of the peninsula's east side. Maybe it was the sheer endlessness of the sparkling sea as it broke against the rocky shore. Perhaps it was the warmth of the setting sun that was alwaysjust rightwhen he would collapse on the beach as the nighttime chorus of bugs filled the air.

　　　　Even though it had been a few years since he last visited, it felt like he had spent more time in this small tourist trap than in his overpriced apartment back in Brooklyn.

　　　　In Jisung's mind, it wasalwayssummer in Coral Point, with clear blue skies and wildflowers that blanketed the fields around his grandparents' house.

　　　　It was home.

　　　　A late sunstorm had rolled in and a heavy drizzle took its place. Raindrops pattered on the windows of the bus as it came to a stop in the center of town. Jisung collected his bags and stepped onto the street, slinging a small pack over his shoulders while he lifted up his rolling suitcase.

　　　　As the doors to the bushiss!ed shut and the bus pulled away, he turned to look around his surroundings, allowing the uncharacteristic rainwater to drench his umbrella.

　　　　It was still the same hub of commerce as he remembered it being: the commercial strip littered with kitschy souvenir shops, and ice cream parlors touting both their waffle cones and the best ice cream in New York. There were still some old, local shops dotting the landscape here and there, but they seemed to be few and far between these days.

　　　　It took longer than anticipated for Jisung to make the trek down a long and winding dirt road that led out to his grandparents' house — a.k.a. his temporary residence over the summer. The rain had come down so hard that the ground turned into thick mud that stuck to the wheels of his suitcase as he trudged through the field.

　　　　It was an inconvenience that washed away with the rain once Grandma Han's face appeared in the doorway. Her graying hair was braided away from her face in a loose plait that ran down her back. A bright smile played on her lips as she looked up at him, up-down, once over.

　　　"Jisung-ah!" she cried as she ran out to meet him, the folds of her brightly colored sundress flowing in the wind as she embraced him tightly. "Oh! Isn't it so great to see you! Come inside!"

　　　　She gripped his face in her hands and smiled, then pinched his cheek between her thumb and forefinger. Jisung flinched back in mock pain.

　　　"You've gotten so thin, haven't ya'?" Grandma Han asked with a teasing smile, jutting out her bottom lip and shaking her head. "But those cheeks never change. 너무 귀여워..."[So cute...]

　　　　Dinner that night was a warm stew.

　　　　The meat was tender and fell apart as Jisung chewed on it — a rich broth flavored by savory seasonings pooling on his tongue.

　　　　The taste transported him to the past, when he wouldbeghis parents to take him to Coral Point for the summer because he missed his grandma and grandpa so much. The meal was an indulgence for him, far different from the instant ramyun he usually had for dinner these days.

　　　　"It really is good to see you, Jisung-ah," Grandpa Han said as he scooped himself another serving of rice from the pot in the center of the table. "Glad to know at leastoneperson in the family ain't 'too busy' to visit us old folk."

　　　　His last few words came out with a sneer. Jisung assumed that they were in reference to his parents.

　　　　To save the conversation from trickling off and bleeding into the backdrop of the storm outside, Grandma Han quickly interjected with, "How have you been doing? How's your fancy shmancy internship treating you?"

　　　　"Ah... It's been alright," Jisung mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

　　　　He couldn't tell them that hehated it, and that he only put up with the internship for the sake of his parents' approval.

　　　　"Work is...work. It's long hours, but it's nice, I suppose. I get to learn a lot and make connections."

　　　　Grandma Han nodded slowly before turning back to her stew. "We heard that you might get a permanent position once you graduate. Your father has been talking our ears off about it forweeks."

　　　　Jisung did his best to force out a small smile, nodding his head in response. The whole point of vacationing at Coral Point was to salvage what little was left of Jisung's inner child — unburdened by the horrors of Kromwell Advertising — in hopes of making it back to the city relatively rejuvenated.

　　　　And yet, somehow, his parents still found a way to infiltrate his thoughts there too.

　　　　Jisung swore he wouldn't think about them or his internship the entire time he was here. As far as he was concerned, Coral Point was his little vacation haven — a safe space where he could forget about how his father would micromanage him on the job and his mother would consistently badger him about if and when he was going to "finally"find a girlfriend.

　　　　There, in Coral Point, nothing else was supposed to exist outside of that house. There, in Coral Point, the ocean waves were supposed to lull him to sleep at night, unburdened by the anxiety of working 24/7 for a supposed 9-to-5 job.

　　　　A clap of thunder shook the house and snapped Jisung out of his thoughts, nearly causing him to jump out of his chair.

　　　　"Oh dear, you must be tired, aren't you?" Grandma Han cooed, smiling sympathetically. "It's getting late anyways. Let's clean up and then you can go to bed. Sounds good?"

　　　　Aside from the faint sound of rain hitting the roof and the waves crashing against the shore in the distance, everything was quiet — well, everything wassupposedto be. Jisung curled up further under the covers and pulled his blanket up to his chin as he closed his eyes, praying to God that his incessant thoughts would finally leave him alone for one night.

　　　　As fate would have it, they didn't.

　　　　The clouds parted, allowing a stray beam of moonlight to shine through Jisung's window and cut across his face as he laid there, tossing and turning under the blankets.

　　　　He peeled open his eyes again and turned to stare out his window, which was covered by gauzy white curtains. They fluttered gently in the wind that pushed through the open window, exposing a small view of the starry sky outside. A raindrop landed on his nose, reminding him that it was still raining outside.

　　　　Hours were spent here, writing. Writing for useless ambitions that would and never materialize into anything beyond simple fantasies that fizzled out in the end of it all: poetry he'd never recite, songs he'd never sing.

　　　　Coral Point was where he wrote the melodies to songs he couldn't hear and rhymes he could never say. It was where he cultivated these little thoughts that had blossomed into something great over time.

　　　　"Music simply isn't a career, Jisung."

　　　　"If you really want to do this, go ahead. But I'm not going to be paying for you to get a degree in something you'll never be able to use."

　　　　In other words: He either went into business like his father, or he had to pay for his tuition himself. And after getting his ass beat by NYU's ridiculous tuition rates, he realized that it was probably just easier to give in to his parents' wishes in the end.

　　　　"We're proud of you, Jisung."

　　　　"Soon, you will be just as successful as your siblings."

　　　　The rain had finally stopped by the time Jisung awoke the next morning. A lone ray of sunlight hit his eyes, prompting him to flip onto his stomach and bury his face in his pillow. It was a futile effort — Jisung couldn't fall back asleep once he was awake.

　　　　After sitting up in bed with a heavy yawn, he wiped at his eyes and raked a hand through his hair, turning towards the window to get a better look at the sky outside. The sun shone high in the sky as white cotton clouds lazily drifted overhead. A strong breeze swept through the air, causing the remaining droplets of water on the window frame to splash onto the floor.

　　　　With a sigh, Jisung sat up in bed, planting his feet on the hardwood floor and stretching his arms up above his head. Once he was finished, he slipped his arms into one of the many sleeveless tanks he'd brought with him before leaving Brooklyn and made his way down the stairs, footsteps echoing throughout the quiet house as he moved towards the kitchen.

　　　　"Morning, Grandma," Jisung mumbled, voice hoarse from sleep as he shuffled past her and towards the coffee pot on the counter. "You're up early."

　　　　"You're just up late," she retorted, shooting him a coy smile from her spot by the stove. "The eggs are almost done if you want some. I have some fried tofu in the pan over there, too."

　　　　Jisung hummed in affirmation before nearing the cabinet by the sink, pulling out a mug and a handful of sugar packets from a small tin canister. He went through his routine as normal, dumping two packets of sugar into his cup before turning back to survey the living room as he waited for his drink to finish brewing.

　　　　Grandpa Han sat on the sofa in the center of the room, the day's newspaper in one hand and a steaming mug of tea in the other. Jisung looked over at him curiously, making note of how engrossed he was in reading that it seemed like he hadn't noticed that his grandson had come downstairs yet.

　　　　"Morning, Grandpa," Jisung said, careful to not startle him.

　　　　Grandpa Han let out a muffled grunt as he lowered his paper slightly, just enough for him to see Jisung standing next to him with a tired smile.

　　　　"Morning, Jisung-ah... Sleep well?" He said, raising an eyebrow at the dark circles that still painted the skin under Jisung's eyes.

　　　　"Mhm..." Jisung murmured in response, nodding his head before heading back to the kitchen to check on his coffee.

　　　　"You're lookingverypale, Jisung," Grandma Han whined as she plated breakfast and placed it in front of Jisung on the counter. "I trust that you'll be gettin' some sunlight today?"

　　　　Jisung took a sip of his coffee, wincing as it burned his tongue. "Idohave some work to finish..."

　　　　"Aren't you here on vacation?" Grandma Han lightly whacked Jisung with an oven mitt. "I don't want to see my youngest grandson become a workaholic like the rest of the family. It's depressing!"

　　　　Jisung snorted at her dramatics before taking another sip of coffee. It barely didanythingto alleviate his fatigue. "Ma, everyone has to work. I'm not a kid anymore, we don't get 'breaks.'"

　　　　"And if you're not willing to work, then you're willing to go nowhere in life. Only those who strive to be the best will live fruitful lives."

　　　　Jisung shook his head. Yet again, his parents wormed their way into his consciousness, even though he was miles away. It was evident in the way his Kromwell Advertising-issued laptop was tucked into his suitcase, or the stacks of poorly-stapled reports that were neatly filed in his bag.

　　　　Even while he was here on vacation, his mind continued to draw him back to the office.

　　　　"Jisung-ah, you're hardly an adult yet," Grandma Han said as she held up Jisung's chin and looked him in the eye. "This is your last summer before youreallygo off into the real world. You should have some fun!"

　　　　"Plus, we ain't got good internet here," Grandpa Han added, still from his spot on the couch. "You'd have to go into town if you want to get any work done. I hear it's good down by Lucky's Diner. You remember Lucky's, right?"

　　　　"Yeah, 'course."

　　　　Jisung did remember Lucky's Diner — it was kind of hard to forget seeing as he practically spent an entire childhood there indulging in salty fries and saccharine milkshakes. Back then, everything seemed to be sweeter and brighter. More vibrant and lively than anything else in his memory.

　　　　Lucky's Diner hadn't changed much over the years.

　　　　The wallpaper was still off-white and covered with flashing lights, even though it was tattered in some places from what appeared to be years of wear and tear. Dated vinyls lined the shelves above the counters, showcasing song after song that Jisung could only recall his parents listening to whentheywere young.

　　　　While things changed over time with age, they also stayed the same. Like the steady stream of tourists that would visit during the summer — children holding melting ice cream cones and babies screaming at their parents for attention. It was predictable, but comforting to know that Coral Point was consistent in a way that made it feel more like home than his real one in Brooklyn.

　　　　With his laptop and a few files in hand, Jisung pulled up a stool at one of the high top tables near the front window and set his stuff down in front of him. He exhaled as he booted up his computer, opening a Word document and organizing his papers before settling down to begin working.

　　　　Now, in an ideal world, Jisung would be able to sit and work for hours on end without a single distraction. But, as fate would have it, this was not an ideal world.

　　　　"Hello! Youdorealize that this is a diner and not a media center, right?"

　　　　The sudden sound of another voice caused Jisung to jump in surprise, quickly turning his head away from his computer screen towards its source. A young man, probably around his age, stood a few feet away with a pen and a small notepad in hand.

　　　　His hair was light brown and loosely styled to hang in front of his eyes in a messy swoop, and he wore a starched white shirt and a bright red bowtie that was obviously part of an employee uniform. The name tag pinned to his chest read,Min-ho.

　　　　Jisung scoffed at his poor attempt at humor — or whatever that was — before replying. "Yes, I'm aware of that. But there's no reception at my grandparents' house and I have some work to finish. I hope you don't mind?"

　　　　"Can't say that I do," the waiter responded with a shrug.f*ck, he was pretty. "But my manager might. Are you gonna' order something?"

　　　　It took a second longer than necessary for Jisung to notice the menu sitting on the table until the waiter motioned towards it with his impossibly large eyes.

　　　　To tell the truth, Jisung wasn't hungry. He'd stuffed his stomach to the brim from breakfast at his grandparents' house earlier that morning and decided that it might be best for him to just go ahead and get straight to work. But now that the waiter — pretty-eyed Minho — had asked him to order something, it just didn't feel right to say no.

　　　　(Plus, he was certain thatnotordering something would lead him to being kicked out before he finished his report.)

　　　　Jisung cleared his throat and scrambled to grab the menu in front of him. "Uhm, yeah. Sure."

　　　　f*ck. There are way too many options on here to choose from.

　　　　He blinked before turning his attention back to the waiter. "Do you have any recommendations?"

　　　　A twitch of a smile appeared on the waiter's lips as he nodded, leaning forward to point at items on the menu. Itreallydidn't help that his body emanated a sweet cherry scent that only became more pronounced with proximity.

　　　　Jisung shifted awkwardly in his seat, watching with a laser focus on where Minho's hands pointed to on the laminated menu.

　　　　"So, you'll want to be looking at the breakfast menu," Minho explained, andGod, even his voice sounded delicious. The edges of his voice were smooth and deep, as if dipped in honey. "A personal favorite of mine is our strawberry scone with whipped cream drizzle."

　　　　Jisung licked his lips absentmindedly before looking up to meet the other's eyes again. "Is that what you'd recommend?"

　　　　"It's one of the few items on the menu that isn't an overpriced scam," Minho joked with a toothy smile. He reached into his apron pocket and whipped out a small notepad. "But don't tell my boss I said that."

　　　Jisung laughed. "Your secret's safe with me. I'll get it. The scone."

　　　　"One strawberry scone, coming right up..." Minho nodded with a smile as he scribbled something on his notepad, before taking Jisung's menu from his hands. When he did so, his fingers lightly brushed against Jisung's wrist, sending a wave of electricity through Jisung's arm that was impossible to ignore.

　　　Minho sauntered off to place his order in, leaving Jisung with a raging blush and half-completed report on his computer screen. He stared back at it, unblinking, before groaning and pressing his forehead into the heel of his palm as he tried to pull himself together.

　　　　It was embarrassing, the way he was melting like a candle over some stranger who probably couldn't care less about him.

　　　　The scone arrived at Jisung's table not long after Minho had taken his order, still steaming and topped with a perfect drizzle of strawberry sauce and whipped cream. To say it was delicious would be an understatement. It was better than Jisung had anticipated — warm and soft as he broke off piece after piece with a fork and carried it to his lips.

　　　　Minho also returned with a warm cup of coffee that Jisung never ordered.

　　　　"You look tired, so I had them throw in a cup of coffee for you too. Cream or sugar?"

　　　　Minho's honeyed voice spoke from behind him suddenly, causing Jisung to turn around in surprise. A smile grew on Minho's face as he sat a small cup of coffee and an even smaller tray filled with packets of sugar and cream in front of Jisung on the countertop.

　　　　Upon noticing Jisung's few beats of stunned silence, Minho spoke again. "Don't worry, it's on me."

　　　　Jisung released the breath he'd been holding before quietly whispering out a small: "Thank you... You didn't have to."

　　　　"It's nothing." Minho waved dismissively, craning his neck so that his gaze met Jisung's.f*ck. "Now. Cream, or sugar?"

　　　　Usually, I just mix an ungodly amount of both in there...

　　　　Jisung's inner thoughts were breached by the sudden realization of Minho's eyes piercing his own. It was akin to staring into a sunlit sky on a warm summer's day, bright and unblemished and shining in a way that was near overwhelming. It made Jisung want to drown in them. Get lost in their light. And f*ck, he was starting to sound like some sort of lovesick idiot who pined over boys he barely knew.

　　　　Jisung's Adams Apple quivered with a slow gulp. Minho was still staring.

　　　　...until it's so sweet, I want to throw up.

　　　　With a desperate need to avoid bursting into flames on the spot, Jisung turned back to the countertop with a nod. "Cream would be lovely... Thank you."

　　　　Jisung waited with bated breath as Minho poured cream into the steaming liquid in Jisung's cup, swirling as it blended with the black coffee until it turned a shade of soft caramel. Silence stilled, save for the gentle pour of cream into coffee, the background chatter of the diner, and the generic pop music playing through the speakers.

　　　　The waiter smiled before looking up again with a coy tilt of his head.

　　　　"Good luck with your work," he said quietly, words almost inaudible against the bustle of the diner behind them. It seemed as if he only wanted Jisung to hear them. "Call if you need anything~."

　　　The following evening, Jisung had once again found himself at Lucky's Diner.

　　　　It had only been two days since he arrived in Coral Point, and by some heavenly force of coincidence, Minho was there too, bussing tables in front of him. His hair was styled neatly back with gel, as opposed to the fluffy look from the previous morning, and his bowtie was neatly knotted and laid flat against the fabric of his shirt.

　　　　It all felt unfair. Minho was on shift that evening, yet, a far-less enthusiastic waiter trudged on over to Jisung's table. There, she proceeded to uninterestedly take his order and toss a lukewarm chicken tenders and fries combo his way.

　　　　It was then that Jisung realized that there was afeelingwith Minho that not justanybodycould ever elicit.

　　　　Minho raised an eyebrow when he spotted Jisung seated in the cherry-red barstool yet again, his Dell laptop propped open atop the black, marble countertop. With a bunny-toothed smile, Minho came sauntering over. Instinctively, Jisung allowed his cheeks to tug and a small, giddy smile to form.

　　　　"Didn't think I'd be seeing you here again so soon," Minho mused, his voice honey-rich and decadent. His mouth curled into a lopsided grin. "Here to work your summer away again?"

　　　　"Mhm," Jisung hummed, turning his attention back to his laptop screen as he typed out a few words at random — anything to appear busy. "The WiFi's great."

　　　　Minho nodded thoughtfully. He rested his hands on his hips with a shrug. "Why come on vacation to a place like this if all you're gonna' do is work?"

　　　　"The weather is nice, the view is beautiful, so Iamtechnically on vacation." Jisung furrowed his brow in confusion. He turned back towards Minho. "What else am I supposed to be doing here?"

　　　"Taking in the sights? Relaxing? Partying on the beach?" Minho chuckled as he leaned forward to flick Jisung's forehead. "You should tryliving a littlewhile you're here."

　　　　"Says the one who's working right now." Jisung replied through a pained scowl, rubbing into the sore spot on his forehead.

　　　　"Touché, touché," Minho hummed, voice holding a sweet lilt. "Though, I never said to be like me."

　　　　"And what would you be suggesting I do instead?"

　　　　Jisung lowered his laptop screen so that the angle was slightly acute. There was no use in trying to get any work done.

　　　　A look of deep thought fell over Minho's face for a brief moment, allowing a petal-kissed pout to bloom on his lips. "We've got some boardwalk carnival games down by the pier tonight. That could be fun?"

　　　　"Pft," Jisung scoffed. "I haven't played carnival games since I was ten."

　　　　Minho giggled: a sweet, whirring sound that too, was perfect. "Why not go and relive your childhood? See if you still got it?"

　　　　Jisung regarded him for a second before a cheeky smile broke through. "Is that an invitation?"

　　　　"Do you want it to be?" Minho replied with a sly smile, thick eyelashes batting slowly.

　　　　Jisung was going haywire on the inside. His cheeks held a warm, inescapable blush that resembled roses at the peak of their autumn bloom. Minho was like the sun: warm and dazzling with a gravity that pulled him in and threatened to burn him to a crisp with how brightly he shined.

　　　　AndGod, was Jisung burning.

　　　　"I'm off my shift in about twenty minutes," Minho stated, fingers drumming on the countertop to create a rhythmic pattern that synced with Jisung's erratic heartbeat. "You can wait for me then, yeah?"

　　　　Jisung swallowed the lump that was building in his throat as he nodded, eyes flitting down to the shine of Minho's ruby red lips that matched the flush of a thousand summersstillburning on Jisung's cheeks.

　　　　"Sounds good," Jisung answered, doing his best to maintain an even voice. "I'll wait."

　　　　Minho brought a finger up to tuck a stray piece of dark hair behind Jisung's ear. Jisung flinched slightly at the touch, causing Minho to smile wider — sickeningly so — before backing away, just in time to be called back into the kitchen by another member of staff.

　　　　As Minho walked away, Jisung turned back to his work with a smile he couldn't suppress.

　　　　Amidst all the giddy, cotton-candy-infused nonsense that was taking place in Jisung's consciousness, a part of his mind reeled back to his grandmother's words:

　　　　The smell of salty ocean water permeated through the air as it came off the shore in waves that crashed onto the sand and languidly crept back into the ocean as it pulled back into itself. The sky was lit by thousands upon thousands of twinkling stars that illuminated the dark night with a shimmering glow.

　　　　The soft sea breeze glided by and kissed the tops of Jisung's cheeks as he and Minho strolled side-by-side along the sandy, cobbled path that led down to the pier.

　　　　Minho was now dressed casually in a loose-fitting blue and white striped tee and jean shorts that fit him just right, having driven to his house as a short detour before driving them down to the pier. His hair was still combed back with gel, but a few strands were now falling over his eyes. He kept brushing them off his face with his hand absentmindedly as they walked together.

　　　　"So, you're vacationing?" Minho asked, but it wasn'treallya question since he already knew the answer. "Where are you from?"

　　　　"Brooklyn. Born and raised," Jisung answered. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, turning to study the waves as they lapped against the shore. "I've got my own apartment out there," he added to sound cooler. He didn't include: "that my parents still pay for."

　　　　Minho's eyes widened, exposing his intrigue. "That sounds fun. Is it fun? Living alone in Brooklyn?"

　　　　"It has its perks," Jisung replied with a shrug. "Like my own personal space and not having to cram in the sh*tty NYU quads."

　　　　Minho chuckled softly before moving closer to knock his shoulder against Jisung's. "NYU? Okay, smartypants. I could never."

　　　　Jisung laughed along with him. "How about you? Are you from around here?"

　　　　"Born and raised," Minho repeated as they stepped onto the pier that bled into the boardwalk carnival games. "My family manages, like, half the establishments in this place."

　　　　Jisung couldn't mask the interested hitch in his vocal inflection. "Really? Which ones?"

　　　　"There's the diner, duh," Minho stated matter-of-factly, listing off shops on his fingers. "That really f*ckin'loudice cream place: Smiley's, the Coral Point Motel, and um... What else... Oh! The fish market by the port."

　　　　Jisung let out a low whistle, eyes widening as he processed the information. "Damn. The local boy who owns it all. Lucky you."

　　　　Minho shrugged, indifferent. He averted his gaze to stare up at the night sky above them. "Eh, it only feels 'lucky' if you're not expected to continue the legacy. Or worse,expand it."

　　　　The tone in Minho's voice took on a quieter, more serious edge than before as they fell into a slight lull in the conversation. Jisung curiously looked over at Minho and found him with his arms crossed as he bit his lip in concentration. Jisung shifted his gaze back up to the stars above them in an attempt to give Minho a little bit of privacy for his thoughts. After a moment of shared silence, Minho spoke up again.

　　　　"You know what I've always wanted to do?" Minho asked rhetorically, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "Dance for a famous person's f*ckin'tour.Like, background."

　　　　Jisung stopped in his tracks, stunned. He stared — gaping mouth and gaze growing larger — at Minho in disbelief, who also paused to turn back around when he realized Jisung was no longer beside him.

　　　　"Dance?" Jisung echoed in bewilderment. "You dance?"

　　　　Could this man become any more perfect? What the f*ck?

　　　　I guess it would explain...the...the...smooth muscle of Minho's thighs that seemed to ripple with every movement. Somewhere, in that deranged part of his brain, Jisung wondered how it would feel to trail his fingers over every ridge and dip—

　　　　f*ck, Jisung, stop looking at his thighs!

　　　　"Since I was little," Minho confirmed. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck shyly. "I sometimes teach kids at the rec center when I have time to spare. I'vealwayswanted to perform, though."

　　　　"Do you...think you'll ever get the chance?" Jisung asked, delicate, as he jogged back up beside him.

　　　　Minho was silent for a few seconds as they walked — shoulders brushing against each other with electric sparks, buzzing incessantly even after they parted — before responding quietly.

　　　　"It's not practical," he said, yet, it didn't quite sound like those words were his own. "My family has worked forgenerationsto keep ourselves stable. Afloat. And I'm just supposed to run away and throw it all away to pursue some stupid pipe dream?"

　　　　As they walked, Jisung searched through his memories to try and place the feelings Minho described: having a dream and losing hope because it just wasn't practical. He had a dream once too — a dream in the form of a lyric notebook collecting dust somewhere in his grandparents' attic. But, like Minho, he lost that dream when he realized how impractical it would be for him to chase after it.

　　　　"I understand," Jisung spoke after a long moment. "The work I do now... It isn't what I wantedto do. But, you know, the money is nice. Makes sense for the future, right? You can't have everything."

　　　　"Could've fooled me." Minho turned to face him with an faux incredulous look. "You're telling me youdon'twant to spend an entire summer typing away on a slow-ass laptop, hogging internet from a poor, small business?"

　　　　"Ha, ha," Jisung deadpanned, eyes finding their fall to the sandy path underfoot. "I'm just saying, I know how it feels...to be forced into your parents' image and have no room to breathe outside of it."

　　　　Minho co*cked his head and his eyebrows drew together in concern as he considered Jisung's words. For a second, Jisung was afraid he said something wrong and screwed up the whole vibe they had going on. But then, Minho grinned again — the first rays of sunlight breaking through a stormy sky.

　　　　"I hope you use tonight to just...breathe a little," Minho said, voice gentle as he slowed down to a stop. "Thisis what you should be doing on your summer vacation. Not working."

　　　　They had reached the fair integrated into the boardwalk, which was poorly lit by flimsy electric lights that looked like they were on the brink of a burnout. The wheels on the Ferris wheel creaked as it spun slowly, barely missing the starry sky above it with each rotation. The prizes hanging from the racket balloon popping game were stuffed animals that looked like they'd been sitting there for at least five summers.

　　　　When Minho looked up at Jisung again, the golden hue of the carnival lights flickered in his achingly tender eyes and bounced off the contours of his face.

　　　　"I hope you use tonight to just...breathe a little."

　　　　Jisung drew in a slow, deliberate breath, his hand encircling the delicate curve of Minho's wrist. In that touch, he allowed the frustrations of his sh*tty laptop and mundane paperwork to rot in the backseat of Minho's car. And with another sigh, he exhaled, deciding that this evening wouldnotbe spent wasting away while typing up meaningless reports about what color slogans should be used in the advertising for overpriced scented candles.

　　　　The boardwalk bore lights in technicolor as Minho dragged Jisung through the throngs of people crowding the midway of carnival games and janky fair rides, fingers laced together in a hot-meets-cold embrace. Each stand was lit up with garish signs that called out to every passing customer in hopes that they would come inside and lose their hard-earned money.

　　　　There was so muchlifehappening around him — something he hadn't felt in years. A shock of electricity that jump-started his heart and sent his mind into overdrive. A thrill that chased away his unease and left only the sound of Minho's laughter ringing in his ears.

　　　　So...this is what 'fun' felt like.

　　　　They zigzagged past candy apple stalls and funnel cake stands, stopping only to share a corn dog before Minho decided that it was time for them to play some more games. They'd already horribly failed at ring toss and nearly lost all their money trying to pop enough balloons in five seconds in order to win a cheap-looking plush animal that Jisungreallydidn't care about.

　　　　"Last game, or else we're going to be here forever," Minho huffed out as they stepped up to a booth adorned with all sorts of tacky stuffed animals. "Let's see if we're any good at this one."

　　　　Minho motioned over to the row of metal water guns lined up in front of them on the counter.

　　　　The objective was simple: shoot more water into the target than any of the other players trying to win a prize. Whoever won would get to choose any stuffed animal hanging from the top shelf of prizes above the stall.

　　　　　"One round at $5 each?" the attendant offered with an easygoing smile. Minho nodded and handed over the cash before taking his spot in front of one of the water guns.

　　　　　Jisung reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills before slapping it down on the counter, feeling much too competitive after getting his ass kicked by Minho in a hot dog eating contest the hour prior.

　　　　"Ready to get your ass handed to you? Loser pays for funnel cakes after this, yeah?" Minho teased with a playful gleam in his gaze.

　　　　"How you can still eat after those hot dogsanda corn dog, is fascinating." Jisung let out a half-amused scoff. "You're on."

　　　　Once the buzzer sounded, the two of them began to pull their triggers and spray water at their targets as fast as they could, a furious sloshing sound filling the air around them as streams of water rained onto the platform below.

　　　　Jisung aimed for precision and accuracy — giving himself a pretty good lead during the first half of the game. Minho, on the other hand, was trying to kick up a bigger splash factor and splash as much water into the target as he could, which was quickly proving itself to be a much more difficult challenge than initially anticipated.

　　　　Somewhere in the middle of the round, Minho gave up on trying to catch up to Jisung's score, and instead began shooting his water gun in Jisung's direction.

　　　　The wet splash hit Jisung square in the cheek, causing him to yelp in surprise, before turning to meet Minho's mischievous grin with a sharp glare. Minho responded by flashing a toothy smile before sneaking another spray of water in Jisung's direction.

　　　　"Oh,f*ck you," Jisung spat. He turned to see Minho biting his bottom lip with barely concealed laughter. "Is that how we're gonna play?"

　　　　"Yeah," Minho shot him a co*cky wink, then shotat himonce more, "'M having fun."

　　　　"Ohyeah?" Jisung aimed his gun in Minho's direction. "I'll show you 'fun'."

　　　　Jisung released a volley of water from his nozzle that hit Minho right in the stomach, sending him stumbling back in shock with a gasp and a squeal as he did his best to protect himself from the attack. They both continued to splash each other with water until the buzzer sounded and the water abruptly turned off.

　　　　When the results were tabulated, Jisung ended up being declared the winner. Minho sat on the ground next to Jisung as he dramatically wailed and sniffled, feigning upset. Jisung patted him on the back condescendingly while he selected his prize.

　　　　"I'll take that one," Jisung pointed to a grumpy-faced cat stuffed animal that sat on the shelf in front of him.

　　　　Minho stared up at him with wide eyes from where he was seated on the floor. As a surprise to no one, not a single tear graced Minho's waterlines.

　　　　As soon as Jisung got his paws on his prize, he leaned over and pushed the plush cat into Minho's face. "It looks a bit like you, don't you think?"

　　　　As they sat down on a bench next to the boardwalk to eat their funnel cake, Jisung felt a foreign wait press into his shoulder from beside him. It was soft, gentle, and smelt vaguely of cherries and cream, so he didn't mind. In fact, he welcomed it, nuzzling closer into Minho's side in a way that felt almost instinctive.

　　　　"You have a tattoo," Minho said with an edge of amusem*nt in his voice. It caused Jisung to look up from their shared dessert and regard him with furrowed eyebrows.

　　　　"Huh?"

　　　　"You have a tattoo," Minho repeated in a slower, sweeter, drawl. He tapped Jisung lightly on the chest. "Right here. I can see it through your shirt. 'S soaked through."

　　　　Oh, right.The water fight had made Jisung's shirt so damp that it was basically transparent, sticking to his shirt as if it were second skin. He watched as Minho dragged his thumb over the ink etched into his skin, following the soft contours of Jisung's chest with curious fingertips.

　　　　"Oh... Yeah," Jisung muttered softly. "I've been meaning to cover it up. It was one of those...silly, stupid 'first tattoos'."

　　　　"Don't." Minho stopped tracing his finger across Jisung's chest. He looked up at him through his dark curtain of lashes. "It's nice. It's art. Is it...a music note?"

　　　　Jisung nodded.

　　　　The tattoo in question was a small black treble clef on the upper left side of Jisung's chest, right by his heartbeat. He got it a few years ago — back when a music career felt like it wastangibleand not an idealistic aspiration — before he moved away to attend college and become someone he wasn't supposed to be.

　　　　It was a nuisance. It was a reminder of what he could never have.

　　　　"When you said you also had to give up on your dreams..." Minho's voice trailed off, destined to be momentarily swallowed by the swaying sea. His gaze snapped onto Jisung's. "This was it? Your dream? To make music?"

　　　　Jisung smiled sadly at him before turning to gaze out at the ocean in front of them. The water rippled and churned under the light of the full moon shining high above them, reflecting the stars as if it were a mirror of the cosmos. If Jisung were angsty and seventeen, he would've written about it: lyrics. Melodies. Harmonies.

　　　　Jisung used to love the way words filled the spaces between notes. Connecting music to the universe, at one point, felt like being tethered to something much bigger than himself.

　　　　"Music was all I knew. All I wanted to be," Jisung confessed as he watched the waves rise and fall in rhythmic succession. "But it was stupid. Not practical."

　　　　Abandoned music notebooks, filled to the brim with illegible scribbles and sheet music that hasn't been played in years, sat on shelves collecting dust somewhere in a forgotten cranny of Coral Point.

　　　　"You don't have to give it up," Minho reassured him, a soft smile visible in Jisung's peripheral vision as he too looked out at the sea. "If you really love it, you shouldn't let it go.Especiallywhen you haven't got anything to lose."

　　　　Jisung laughed, then sighed. He wished life were that simple.

　　　　"I'm gonna' be going into corporate business soon," Jisung scoffed. "I can't afford to think like that."

　　　　"It'ssummer," Minho countered quietly, popping a piece of funnel cake in his mouth. "If there's any time to let loose, it's now."

　　　　Jisung fixed him with an inquisitive gaze, finding it ironic how this boy could say these things when he'd already given up on his own dream. Jisung wouldloveto let loose. To forget about his internship, and Kromwell Advertising, and being twenty-one, and having to be an adult now because he's all grown up.

　　　　"And if you're not willing to work, then you're willing to go nowhere in life. Only those who strive to be the best will live fruitful lives."

　　　　There was that possibility of failure that terrified him to his core. Of course, Jisung would feel guilty unloading tattered songbooks and half-finished compositions on anyone or anything, solely because theycaredto listen. Especially on a person he hardly knew.

　　　　The dulcet cadence of Minho's voice filled Jisung's ears again. It was unlike anything Jisung had ever heard back in Brooklyn; it wasaddictingto listen to, especially with the spellbinding syrup between his syllables.

　　　　"Isn't that why you came back here? To live for a bit and forget about the world you ran away from?"

　　　　Jisung answered without hesitation. "...Yeah. I guess you could say that."

　　　　It was almost midnight by the time Minho dropped Jisung back off at his grandparents' house on the hill. The carmine-colored Pontiac firefly (note:grandmacar) idled on the gravel driveway as Jisung stepped out and pulled his duffel bag from the backseat. The night air was brisk and cool as it kissed the crown of Jisung's head and blew his dark hair into disarray.

　　　　His eyes met Minho's for what must have been the millionth time that night before the latter broke out into another eye-crinkling smile. The neon carnival lights from before had faded and now all that was left was the blaring shine of moonlight bouncing off his skin, highlighting the high points of his cheekbones and the curves of his face in a way that made him appear almost ethereal.

　　　　It made Jisung's stomach feel all funny. Like his insides were trying to make their way out of his mouth and onto the moon-chilled asphalt below.

　　　　"So... This is me." Jisung drew his gaze away from Minho's to motion up at his grandparents' house. The lights were all still on in the foyer, causing it to glow amber with a warm, welcoming hue. "Thank you...for the ride."

　　　　Minho nodded, flashing a smile back at Jisung from behind the steering wheel. "Yeah, 'course. I'll see you around?"

　　　　Jisung's breath hitched in his throat —he's so f*cking pretty, he thought — a smile so perfect that it rivaled the beauty of the moonlight reflecting off the ocean water: glowing and everlasting. Bunny-toothed and slanted, in a way that was stupidly endearing. It sent chills up Jisung's spine. Perhaps it was foolish, that was, being enamored with a stranger from the first lock of gazes, or mutual shy smiles. But there was just something about Minho that drew Jisung in...almost as if they had been predestined to meet since the very beginning of time.

　　　　"I... Yeah. You will. I mean, if you want to," Jisung stammered through his words, avoidant of Minho's gaze.

　　　　Minho's arm reached out the rolled-down window, letting his fingers dance just short of where Jisung's wrist led into his forearm. He hummed gently, a small sound of affirmation, the beginnings of a song Jisung wanted to listen toforever.

　　　　"C'mere," Minho coaxed in a quiet tone, so low that Jisung would have missed it had he not been hanging onto every syllable that left the waiter's mouth like his life depended on it.

　　　　Minho's fingers curled inward, beckoning Jisung towards him with an alluring curl of his index finger.

　　　　Jisung did not need to be told twice.

　　　　With little hesitation, he took a step forward, leaning down towards the open window with wide eyes that remained transfixed on Minho's deep brown irises. The latter slowly brought a hand up to cup Jisung's cheek, gently brushing away a strand of stray hair that fell in front of his eye before tilting Jisung's face and planting a petal-soft kiss to his cheek.

　　　　Jisung shivered despite the warmth of Minho's breath cascading down the line of his jaw before he pulled back with a coy curve on his lips.

　　　　"Is that even a question?"Minho asked, a hint of a purr laden on his tongue. "Of course I wanna' see you again..."

　　　　A breach in the conversation. A pause. A stammer, as if Minho intended to say more, but never quite had the chance to before bursting into laughter. It was rich and honeyed like the voice of an angel, yet, it was still utterly confusing.

　　　　Minho cleared his throat once his laughter waned, ears tinged with an embarrassed blaze. He settled into his seat and rested his head against the headrest behind him with an incredulous scoff falling past his lips. Jisung blinked, mouth parted slightly with unspoken words as he regarded Minho with a confused, barely-there smile. He probably looked like an idiot.

　　　　"Ugh... I can't believe this," Minho groaned into his hands, laughter slowly morphing into something more exasperated. Through his lashes, Minho shamefully sought after Jisung's gaze. "All this time, and I never asked for your name!"

　　　　Oh.Oh.

　　　　Jisung's eyes nearly popped from their sockets as brought a hand up to cover his mouth, trying not to let a disbelieving laugh slip. He stared at Minho with eyebrows raised so high that they were almost lost in his hairline. After a few moments of stunned silence, Jisung finally let out a chuckle that soon progressed into a full-blown laugh.

　　　　And God, he couldn't stop laughing. That night — all of it — was so absurd, and so surreal, and so perfect, and Jisung couldn't get enough of it.

　　　　"f*ckin' stop!" Minho whined in-between streams of laughter. "I was trying to be allflirtatiousandromance-y, and then I was like— 'Oh sh*t, what's his name'?"

　　　　That additional revelation did nothing but make it increasingly difficult to withhold his laughter from further embarrassing Minho. Jisung had to prop himself up against the hood of the car with his palms as his body began to shake with laughter again.

　　　　When his laughter eventually calmed down, Jisung caught the last shreds of Minho's laughter echoing through the wind and out to sea. It made the moon a little brighter. Made the stars shine a little more radiantly. Made Jisung's heart skip a beat, and then another.

　　　　"It's Jisung," he finally managed to choke out between another breathy giggle. "My name... It's Jisung."

　　　　(He didn't add"but most people, outside my family, call me Peter nowadays."'Jisung' was special. A part of him wanted to hear his name tested out on Minho's treacle-tinged tongue.)

　　　　"Jisung," Minho echoed in a voiceoozingin honey, imprinting Jisung's name into his lips as if he wanted to remember it for eternity. "I like it... It suits you."

　　　　Minho smiled softly — sweetly — and something about the way he looked at Jisung sent shivers running through his bones and into his bloodstream. Minho's smile was intoxicating, like drinking too much rosé wine in one sitting and forgetting your responsibilities for a little while. It was paralyzing, the way Jisung felt as though he could stay in Minho's orbit forever; drunk on starlight and cherry-flavored chapstick.

　　　　"I'm Minho," Minho added on quickly, like an afterthought, after the realization of him 'never telling Jisung his own name' set in. "In case you never caught my nametag back at the diner."

　　　　Jisung took a few seconds to let Minho's name properly settle on his tongue. It was sweet, and smooth, and tasted faintly of cherry cola: sugary. and airy, and effervescent in a way that pleaded to be recited on Jisung's tongue. He had to resist the urge.

　　　　The catlike yawn that fell past Minho's lips prompted Jisung to wrap up their conversation. It was pretty late, and the salt air blowing from the sea had a frozen chill to it that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

　　　　"Well, it was nice to meet you, Minho," Jisung spoke, threaded with a silken softness he couldn't quite place. "And thanks again. For tonight."

　　　　Minho's smile was akin to a ray of light that cut through the shadows. He looked up at Jisung through a curtain of long lashes. It made the ink shrouded evening feel a tad brighter.

　　　　"Have a good night, Jisung," Minho responded as he shifted the gear into drive. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

　　　　Jisung rubbed his cheeks with the pad of his fingers in an attempt to curb the burning flush of red that was threatening to swallow his face whole.

　　　　Minho's car had already pulled well off into the road when Jisung finally replied: "Y–Yeah. See you."

　　　　Once the car disappeared in a whirl of tail lights, Jisung stalled for a moment outside his grandparents' house on the hill. The breeze from the sea had started to pick up — tousling his hair and prompting him to hug himself with bare arms — but all Jisung could feel was the heat radiating from his skin that made it feel as if he were burning up from the inside out. His cheek fizzled where Minho's lips had graced him, allowing his heart to swell with a tenderhope(or wishful thinking) that something more could come of them in the future.

　　　　Sometime in the middle of the night, when Jisung had long since changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a thin sweatshirt, he sat on the windowsill with a pen and a slice of parchment paper pilfered from the kitchen. The moonlight cast a silvery glow on Jisung's skin — liquid metal — that painted him in hues of white and blue as he sang to himself in quiet melodies that died before they could travel past the first row of houses lining the road below.

　　　　Something had shifted that night, in the way that Jisung breathed air into his lungs and allowed the sea air to fill up the space beneath his ribs. Something as simple as a boy with a dazzling smile and rose petal-colored lips, with moonlight dripping off his skin and stars burning in his eyes; a stranger who felt like something more.

　　　　The parchment paper was easily filled with blushing words that left Jisung's skin feeling hot as he thought of them. Thought ofhim. A sweet song with lyrics he wouldn't dare share with anyone other than himself.

　　　　When morning finally broke on the horizon, a dashing ray of golden sunshine stained Jisung's temporary bedroom in shades of yellow that swathed the walls and draped over the floors in gentle hues that mirrored the gleam of a thousand tiny jewels.

　　　　A grumpy-faced cat plush greeted him once he finally peeled his eyes open. Subsequently, a giddy smile tugged on his lips before he wrapped his arms around it and hugged it tight against his chest.

　　　　Knock! Knock!

　　　　A feather-light rap on the door door caused Jisung's gaze to drift away from the cat plush in his arms and toward the wooden door across the room. His grandmother peeked her head into the room cautiously, a silver curl of hair escaping her hastily tied bun.

　　　　"Did I wake you?" she asked, a contrite expression crossing her features.

　　　　Jisung sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a slow shake of his head. "No, I'm up."

　　　　His grandmother grinned, bright and wide, before making her way over to where he sat on his bed. She held a tray with two plates stacked onto it that carried fluffy pancakes glazed with syrup alongside a glass of orange juice for each of them. She placed one plate on Jisung's lap, then turned around to grab one for herself, making room at the edge of Jisung's bed.

　　　　"It's almost noon," she remarked. She began cutting into her pancakes with the side of her fork, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Did you have a late night out?"

　　　　Jisung pushed a pancake into his mouth, its buttery-sweet taste melting on his tongue. He swallowed it down with an affirming head nod.

　　　　"Went down to the boardwalk," he offered, sheepish, as he started cutting up more of his breakfast into smaller bites. "Met someone."

　　　　"Oh! Well isn't that exciting?" Grandma Han paused her chewing, a smug smile overtaking her features as she regarded her grandson with a playful glint in her eye. "And here I was worried you'd spend all summer working, working, working til' you were just as wrinkly as me."

　　　　Jisung gave her a look which she reciprocated in turn, shooting him a wink that he decidedly ignored in favor of picking up a glass of orange juice and downing it in one go. He couldn't stop thinking about Minho — his smile, his laugh, his touch. There was a sweetness to him that reminded Jisung of biting into a ripe cherry in the height of summer, sucking the flavor right off the pit.

　　　　Grandma Han cut through the silence that was beginning to descend upon them by clasping her hands together and smiling up at Jisung expectantly.

　　　　"So? Tell me about this person you met."

　　　　Jisung buried his face in his hands, unable to stop the rush of color that painted his cheeks an incriminating shade of red.

　　　　"Ugh... I don't know..."

　　　　"Come on now, you can't just tell me you met someone and leave me hanging." She poked him in the ribs, earning a small squeak of surprise from Jisung before he playfully smacked her hand away. "Give meallthe details, I'm not getting any younger."

　　　　"Fine," Jisung grumbled as he prodded at his pancakes with a fork, unsure of how to go about describing Minho.

　　　　How could he put Minho into words? How could he convey that there was something about him that made Jisung's insides feel like they were being burned alive in a kiln?

　　　　"He works at Lucky's," Jisung finally offered after a few moments of contemplation. "I kept going there so I could use their WiFi... And we just kind of...hit it off."

　　　　She cooed and brought a hand up to her mouth to hide her growing grin. "Oh, sweetheart, that sounds just lovely! You have to bring him over some time!"

　　　　"It was just one night, Grandma." Jisung laughed quietly. "You're getting ahead of yourself."

　　　　It was hot and muggy inside the diner that afternoon, only alleviated by the sudden bursts of chilled air that blew out from the corner air conditioning units throughout the establishment. Jisung occupied his usual table by the window where he could sneak glances up at Minho every once in a while, tapping his fingers on the keyboard of his laptop in no particular rhythm.

　　　　The news stations on the radio were airing the same hourly updates about the heatwave and how it was currently the hottest summer on record in over twenty years. Not even a light breeze from the ocean could reach them as they stayed stagnant on the bay.

　　　　"I'm startin' to get the idea that you'renotjust coming here for the WiFi. Hell, I'm starting to wonder if you getanywork done at all."

　　　　A sudden presence at the edge of the counter caused Jisung to snap his head up. Unsurprisingly, there Minho was, hovering near him with a mischievous glint in his eye and a beguiling smile playing on his lips. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his hips co*cked to one side as he tapped his foot idly against the linoleum floor. Jisung did his best not to let his gaze linger on the way Minho's uniform shirt stretched across his torso a little too nicely, faintly doused in sweat.

　　　　God, he looks so good.

　　　　Jisung averted his gaze from Minho's distracting...well...everything, and back to his laptop screen where the cursor continued to blink expectantly on a blank page. Contrary to Minho's belief, he had breezed through two new pages of his report with the help of a Lucky's Diner coffee special.

　　　　There weren't many customers in — it wasthathot out — which meant that if Minho didn't come over to bother him, he might as well have been sitting all alone in an empty diner with nothing to keep him company aside from the radios blaring on about the weather.

　　　　"I, uh... Hi," Jisung stammered out after realizing he hadn't yet given Minho a response. "And you're right. I come here for the coffee, too."

　　　　Minho tilted his head, a smirk unfurling across his lips as he stepped closer to lean into the table. He gently toyed with the edge of Jisung's laptop, running his fingertips along the rim.

　　　　"Yeah? So...not for the waiter who's been so generously attending to your each and every demand?"

　　　　"Maybe you're growing on me," Jisung answered with a quirk of his own smile before gently smacking Minho's hand away from his laptop. "Now if you'd excuse me, I'm working."

　　　　"Which I'msureis going amazingly," Minho cooed back at him, pulling away from the counter and opting to slide in the barstool beside him. "It seems like my advice from yesterday fell on deaf ears."

　　　　Jisung flipped his laptop shut with a quiet sigh before dragging his eyes back up to meet Minho's honeyed gaze. "I only agreed to slack off forone night.I can't slack off every day or else I'll never get anything done."

　　　　"It's an internship, not a job," Minho said matter-of-factly. "You're hardly getting paid, and you're only doing this much to get ahead, aren't you?"

　　　　Jisung almost,almostargued back, but caught himself just in time as he felt his argument crumbling under the weight of Minho's logic. He bit his bottom lip and slowly began to nod.

　　　　Kromwell Advertising didn't demand this much work from him under his internship,hedid; his parents did.

　　　　Minho made a small sound of satisfaction and gently patted Jisung on the thigh. The pad of his fingers seared like wildfire against his skin for what felt like an eternity before he eventually retracted his hand. It left a trail of residual heat that pooled under Jisung's skin, making Coral Point's heatwave a tad more unbearable.

　　　In the distance, past the cornflower-blue skyline of rolling waves cresting into foam, there was a vast expanse of uninterrupted ocean water that stretched as far as the eye could see.

　　　　A wide stripe of yellow sand separated the crystal blue waters of the bay from the streets of Coral Point lined with houses overlooking the sea. The sun shone high above them, nestled among fluffy clouds that dotted the sky like a stray collection of cotton candy.

　　　　Minho had driven by after a little over two hours (not that Jisung was obsessively counting down the minutes) with the news that today, they'd take on the Coral Point Beach. Minho brought swim trunks and a bag full of beach essentials, such as a towel, sunscreen, and snacks for the both of them to share. They parked by the boardwalk again and walked to the beach below in hopes of finding a spot on the crowded shoreline.

　　　　A humid haze clung to their skin as they searched for an open stretch of sand that was far enough away from all the bustling crowds enjoying the summer heat. Once they found a spot, Jisung dropped his belongings and laid out a towel over the sand, letting it flutter onto the ground before sitting himself down on top of it.

　　　　"It's so hot," Jisung moaned as he sank into the towel, letting the sunlight kiss his exposed skin with its warm caress. "I think I'm melting."

　　　　Minho responded with a strangled grunt before throwing himself down onto his cherry-print towel next to Jisung, fanning himself with an unrolled magazine. "Understatement of thecentury."

　　　　Minho struggled with a stubborn sunscreen bottle for nearly five minutes before he managed to squeeze a glob of a white, creamy solution onto his palms, spreading it around his forearms and up his neck. Jisung tried not to stare at the way his muscles flexed with the movement, or the way the sun rays bounced off the delicate slope of his collarbones and illuminated the smooth column of his neck.

　　　　Minho, upon noticing Jisung's staring, regarded him with an amused quirk of his lips. "Want some? If so... I can share."

　　　　"What? Oh—" Jisung snapped his gaze away from Minho and instead elected to stare at the tufts of sand that speckled his legs. "If you don't mind."

　　　　"Sit up." Jisung complied without hesitation, or without really considering the ramifications of anything, until Minho finished with: "I've got you."

　　　　Minho's hands found their way to the hem of Jisung's tank top, carefully sliding the fabric up and off of his torso. Either Jisung was insane, or that first step was unnecessary, judging that Minho still hadhistank top on. Maybe that was just how Minho liked to put sunscreen on others for some reason; maybe he just wanted to make sure Jisung hadplentyof protection. Right.

　　　　A deft touch traced over Jisung's collarbone before circling around his shoulders and down his back, prompting a hitch in his throat. A cold streak of sunscreen coated Jisung's skin with a satisfying coolness that relinquished some of the heat clinging to him like a second skin. He couldn't remember the last time someone touched him like this, if ever. Gentle, but firm in all the right places. Almost intoxicating in a way that made his head spin and his stomach twist with something he couldn't quite place.

　　　　In Jisung's professional opinion, he had been handling the whole 'sexy-stranger-lathers-me-in-sunscreen' thing quite well, with nothing but the occasional soft gasp and slow coil of heat in his gut. If only he prepared himself better, as things quickly derailed and got worse. Much,muchworse.

　　　　Minho swung around and over so that a foreign weight sat itself comfortably on Jisung's thighs. An insatiable warmth radiated from where skin touched skin. Jisung's eyes followed the path of Minho's hands as they brushed up against Jisung's abdomen — little exploratory touches — sending tingles down Jisung's spine when Minho's fingertips pressed against the bottom of his ribs.

　　　　"Are you...alright?" Minho asked through a honey-laced lilt. Cherried, plush lips fell open to release a small, breathy laugh as he planted his hands on either side of Jisung's waist. "You're a bit jumpy. Should I stop?"

  　　　Jisung didnottrust himself to respond verbally in any capacity, so he shook his head instead and tried not to crumble under Minho's touch. Tried to steady his breathing and ignore the way Minho's thighs pressed ever-so-slightly into his own.

　　　　"M'kay," Minho replied quietly as he pressed himself further into Jisung, his knees bracketing Jisung's hips. He let his hands spread over Jisung's bare chest — palms slippery with sunscreen. "Your tattoo... It's beautiful, by the way."

　　　　"T–Thanks," Jisung muttered, surprised he was able to get anything coherent out of his mouth at all.

　　　　"Ah, so hedoesspeak?" Minho crooned, earning a small, restrained laugh from Jisung.

　　　　It didn't take long for Jisung to revert back into a flustered mess at the sudden pressure of Minho's hips shifting into him. He caught the glimmer of a sultry smile ghosting over Minho's lips when he eventually lifted himself off and resituated himself at Jisung's side instead.

　　　　Minho was first to submerge beneath the gentle lap of waves, glowing a subtle golden honey hue as he reappeared on the surface with a slick of saltwater tousling his hair in messy disarray. Jisung trailed behind him, ankles wading in the frothing shoreline as the foam of the waves encroached onto his toes, moments before pulling back into the bay.

　　　　"C'mon, Jisung!" Minho called, voice muffled from distance. The sun overhead created a hazy, almost dream-like haze in the air. Jisung watched, dazed, as Minho wrung the excess water from his hair. "What're you waiting for? The water's nice!"

　　　　It wasn't much of Jisung's decision, as the tidal pull of the sea latched onto his legs and drew him in deeper. He let the salty water sweep up his ankles, his calves, and then his knees.

　　　　Eventually, he was submerged to his chest, far out enough that the coastline had shrunken into a speckle of pastel houses lining the shore. The sun beat down on his neck as he kept moving forward, closer to Minho, who waited patiently in deeper waters.

　　　　The two exchanged shy smiles with one another, treading in the cool seawater, with saltwater dripping from their hair and tickling the skin beneath their eyes.

　　　　Then:

　　　　"You look like a drowned cat, Minho," Jisung snickered, watching as droplets of seawater rolled off Minho's nose and down onto his chin.

　　　　Minho responded with a long-winded groan and a swift splash of water that Jisung barely managed to dodge. "You think that's funny?"

　　　　"No," Jisung replied, sweet and airy, doingeverythinghe could to keep his sh*t-eating grin at bay. "Why would you think that?"

  　　　Minho feigned ignorance and countered with a series of splashes in Jisung's direction; tiny ripples formed as the water crashed down onto the surface of the sea. A battle that quickly ensued soon after as the two of them relentlessly splashed one another with seawater and hollering louder than even the gaggle of children who fooled around nearby.

  　　　Eventually, Minho dipped beneath the surface, nothing but his melted-caramel tresses floating around his head. Offering Jisung no time to process what was going on, Minho launched himself out of the water — iron grip fastened around the small of Jisung's waist — and raised him up in the air.

　  　　"Min—No, no, no— Minho!" Jisung yelped, doing his best to pry Minho's hands off his body to no avail. Minho was stronger.Muchstronger. "F–f*ck you, let go!"

  　　　A massive wave surged toward them, its shadow stretching across the water. The wave's peak curled ominously, frothy white against the dark, tumultuous blue beneath. Jisung balked at the realization of Minho's sad*stic plan to submergehiminthat.

  　　　Minho giggled as Jisung struggled in his arms. "Gladly."

  　　　With a gulp of air and eyes slammed shut, Jisung was hit with a force of water so strong that it forced his back flat against Minho's chest. He let out a surprised squawk, shocked at how cold the water was as it pummeled against his body. By the time it receded, Minho released his grasp and allowed Jisung to fall into the sea, temporarily free-floating in the aftermath.

  　　　Afterwards, when Jisung resurfaced for air and used his drenched hair to whip Minho in the face, he heard the boy howling with laughter from somewhere nearby. He waded towards Minho, eyes narrowed in disapproval and a stifled smile playing on his lips despite his best efforts to appear otherwise.

　  　　"Oou~, Jisung," Minho teased, laughter failing to wane. "You're not looking too good."

  　　　Jisung scoffed and pushed Minho's shoulder, the latter adorned with an endearingly breathless smile. "You're a dick."

  　　　"Andyou'readorable," Minho countered with a victorious smile — a second sunlight breaching past mundane clouds, creasing the horizon.

　　　　Once nighttime fell, when the moonlit sky cast its silver glow over the rippling water and shadows danced along the shore, Minho drove Jisung back up to his grandparents' house on the hill. Sand collected in Minho's car (nuisance #1) and waterlogged clothes clung to their bodies (nuisance #2).

　　　　As soon as Minho turned his headlights off, they were shrouded in darkness save for the porchlight that flickered above them. Everything around them was quiet, except for the howling wind blowing in from the sea.

　　　　It was a pleasant change compared to the noisy bustle of the boardwalk; of the beach; of the diner.

  　　　The humidity from before had died down — it was significantly cooler now — but still sticky enough to prompt Minho to roll his windows down and let the breeze fill the car.

　  　　"So? How did you like your beach day?" Minho asked from beside him, leaning back in his seat with a smile. The evening light draped over his face in a soft, amorous glow. "Exciting enough for you?"

　  　　"I loved it," Jisung whispered, hesitant, as if speaking too loudly might make the moment disappear. He cleared his throat, voice still croaky from the sand stuck in his lungs. "And I especially loved spending time with you."

  　　　Minho smirked, reaching out to smooth away some hair that was stuck to Jisung's forehead. He held Jisung's gaze with that signature look of his: both unwavering and scorching as if he was daring Jisung to look away first.

  　　　"Mm... Me too," Minho breathed, lifting his other hand up to cradle Jisung's jaw. He began to trace patterns onto Jisung's cheek with his thumb. "I had a lot of fun today. I'm glad you came along."

  　　　Jisung giggled, giving in to Minho's touch. "As if you gave me much of a choice."

  　　　Minho stroked the smooth contour of Jisung's cheek with his thumb once more. With a firm, yet gentle grip on his jaw, Minho tilted Jisng's face, brought it close, and laid a tender kiss there. It was brief and chaste; an innocent press of lips that lasted only a fraction of a second, and left Jisung frozen in place, buzzing all over.

　  　　"Goodnight, Jisung," Minho hummed through a smile, turning his head back toward the steering wheel with a playful nudge of his nose. "I'd do it again. Force you to have some fun, that is."

  　　　The light from the porch lit up the edges of Minho's figure in a dazzling honey gold that made his silhouette shimmer and blur like a mirage. Jisung thought he looked unreal. Something from a dream.

  　　　Jisung took a moment to memorize every detail — every line, every curve — as he burned Minho's image into his memory and exhaled: "Goodnight, Minho."

CLOSE

Among many people, your shining figure
Becomes clearer, little by little, and now I only
See you, reaching out to touch you,

Hoping not to stand alone on a thorny path anymore,
Hoping this isn't just a delusion,

The path I'm walking now
Feels like walking on heaven, trembling right now,
Feeling comforted and saved by someone.

I still don't know much about you,
But I'll slowly get to know you
Even if it takes time...