Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The heat is oppressive during August. It tends to stick around the low 90s, but the humidity makes it feel hotter. The air is thick with moisture, heavy and difficult to breathe. Sweat sticks to your skin; it’s brutal—uncomfortable even just standing still. Not to mention the constant water damage on wooden floors, condensation on the windows, and the ground is always soft. That’s why the graves are built above ground here.

The grass is a bright, lush green color where they parked the car, tires rolling, tossing them side to side as they rolled over lumps of dried mud from the rain last week. Getting out of the car is like stepping out into a sauna, the afternoon sun beating down on them harshly. Jisung immediately thought about getting back in the car and telling Chan to take them home.

Nope, nevermind, it’s way too hot for this.

Lino closed his door on the other side of the car, making Jisung look over at him, huffing a short breath through his nose.

Right, right, I guess I could suck it up for a while.

“Ji—”

It’s been a while since we’ve had some fun. Plus, Lino would take me back home if I pestered him enough, but jeez, whose bright idea was this again?

“Jisung!” Chan yelled out, making the younger look over. He was glaring at him. “I asked if you have your wallet; I’m not coming back to the car just to get it.” 

Oh great, he’s already irritated with me. 

Jisung frowned. “I have it,” he said, reaching to pat his back pocket, feeling the outline of the square of leather. 

Minho snorted as he came to stand next to him. “Like you need it,” he said with a smug smile, “I pay for everything anyway.”

“No, you don’t,” Jisung said, glaring at him. “I paid for coffee just this morning!”

“Mm hmm,” Minho hummed, already walking off after Chan and Lix, heading towards the front gates. 

Jisung started after them. “I did!” he defended, falling into step next to Lino. 

“Congrats, you paid one time,” Lino said, grinning playfully at the younger. 

Jisung just huffed, faking a grumpy pout at him. “You’re such a dick,” he told him, which just made him laugh. The older boy reached over and ruffled his hair, making Jisung slap his hand away. He stuck his tongue out at Minho, which he returned with a grin.

Thankfully, Lix had paid for the tickets in advance, so getting into the fairgrounds was relatively easy. Jisung could smell the popcorn before they even made it through the front gates, making his stomach grumble. 

They stood in line for a minute so they could get their tickets scanned. He looked around, watching all the people coming and going. It was Friday, so the crowd was to be expected, but damn, this was a lot. Just a reminder why he didn't like going out to places like this. He felt bad for the workers, working in this heat, with all these people. Sounded like a personal nightmare. Sweat was already seeping through his undershirt, making him curse myself for trying to be fashionable in this heat. Thank the Lord he chose to wear shorts instead of pants. 

The crowd was lively with laughter and shouting, kids of all ages running around. It was the usual state fair, with all of the usual rides that can be set up and taken down within a week or two. There was the Ferris wheel near the back, a bumper car track, and several different spinning rides, and, surprisingly, a double-decker carousel. Colorful booths were scattered around the park, full of bustling people, workers, and patrons dealing fried food and sugary sweets.

He and Lino got their bright orange paper wristbands, finally passing under the welcome archway. He looked around for his brother and Lix but didn’t see them. They had already disappeared into the throng of people. He huffed.

So much for sticking together, big bro. 

“Oh, but he probably just wants some alone time with his girlfriend—” Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least Lino’s still with me—

At least he thought. He looked around and didn’t see his friend, his heart skipping for a moment. 

Where did he go? Oh god, I really don’t wanna be here alone; that’s such a loser thing to do—

A strong, warm hand grabbed his arm. He turned to see Lino grinning at him.

“C’mon,” he said, taking his hand and pulling him through the crowd. Where they were going, he had no clue. 

Lino pulled him through the concentration of people near the front gates, making their way further into the fairgrounds. Jisung tripped over a lump in the grass, but Lino’s grip kept him on his feet, pulling him closer. Jisung blinked, his feet starting to move again. 

He smells like coffee and vanilla.

They passed by a short music stage with a live band. The area in front of the stage was usually an empty soccer field, but now it was decorated with clusters of collapsible plastic picnic tables, but only a couple had shade umbrellas available. Those without cover were hot to the touch, he knew from experience—one too many burned thighs. Jisung reached up to wipe sweat from his brow to keep it from getting in his eye. 

They kept walking; he bumped into Lino’s back as he stopped in his tracks to dodge a little girl carrying a yellow balloon dog.

I want a balloon dog.

Lino pulled him along again, coming to a stop in an empty spot between the picnic tables and the back of a line of food stalls. 

“This heat is brutal,” he said, picking up the collar of his overshirt to wipe his forehead. 

Maybe I should cut his hair; it’s getting long and I’d probably be cooler with it short—

“God, I know,” Lino groaned.

Jisung squinted at him, giving him a once-over. “Yet, you chose to wear all black,” he pointed out. 

Minho looked down at his black jeans and black t-shirt. It was a loose fit, both the pants and the shirt. The black shirt framed his broad shoulders; the sleeves of the shirt were rolledy, and, admittedly, it showed off his biceps well. It was his “ol’ reliable” shirt. He has three of the same one but in different colors.

“Ok, but I’d be hot in any other clothes too,” he said. “At least this outfit is comfortable, and I look hot.”

Jisung rolled his eyes at him, only to be interrupted by his stomach growling.

“Did you pull me over here for any specific reason, or can we get some food?” Jisung asked, raising an eyebrow at the older boy. 

“Sure, you brat,” Minho said, reaching up to gently flick his forehead. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere with air conditioning?” 

Lino snorted. “Not many options then,” he said with a look, pulling out his phone to look at the map on the fair’s website. 

It took a moment for him to look for it. Jisung did what he normally did when they were in a crowded place: stare at him. He was a familiar face, something stable, a soft reassurance while the chaos around them continued. Jisung never really understood why Lino just being there comforted him, but it did. He was easy to look at and nice to see. Right now, he had a light sheen of sweat covering his skin, a flush high on his cheekbones, probably due to the heat. 

Lino looked up at him, their eyes meeting. His lips pulled into a slight smirk. Jisung blinked, and Minho went back to looking at the map. Though for a moment, Jisung's heart hitched, fluttering with something strange. He thought it was anxiety creeping in again. 

“God is watching.”

He cleared his throat. 

“Anything good?” he asked. 

Lino glanced up at him before sighing. “Not really, there’s, like, a 50s-inspired po’boy diner; they have the normal stuff,” he said, thumb scrolling his phone screen.

“I would kill for a burger right now,” he said. “That okay with you?”

“Sure,” he said, putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“Where is it—”

Lino started walking before he could finish his question. He seemed to know where he was going, so Jisung scurried after him. It was like dodging traffic trying to get there, so he grabbed the back of Lino’s shirt so they didn’t keep getting separated. 

The diner was, indeed, 50s inspired, the front being a shell of one of those old, shiny aluminum caravans. It actually was easy to spot it because the sun glared off of it, nearly blinding him as they walked toward it.

Lino held the door open for him as they walked in. The inside was set up as a normal 50s diner, and thankfully, there was a little air conditioning that blasted them as they walked in. A row of retro red laminate booth seats lining the fake caravan wall, a white bar top with spinning stools, a jukebox in the corner with neon signs, and the black and white checkered floor tiles. 

He looked around just in time to see a woman with her little girl cleaning up at a table in the corner. 

He grabbed Lino’s arm and leaned in to speak. “I’m gonna grab us a table,” 

“Ok, you just want your usual?” he asked. Jisung nodded and turned away.

He went and stood nearby, awkwardly waiting while the girl and her mom grabbed their trash to throw away. 

Is this alright? Am I being pushy? Maybe I should’ve waited in line with Lino.

“You’re being annoying.”

His brother’s voice was in his head again, a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. Sometimes he wondered if that voice was God, but he doubted God would have the voice of his asshole brother.

“ You’re okay, Ji; you’re not hurtin’ anybody.”

He heard that in Lino’s voice; and the weight lifted a bit.

The mom glanced at him and gave him a polite smile before turning to her kid. The girl had braided pigtails tied up with bright pink pom-poms. 

“I like your hair,” he said as she walked by. 

She turned to look at him, taking her mother’s hand. “Thank you,” she said with a smile; she was missing one of her front teeth. He smiled back, giving her a small wave before he sat down. 

He glanced at the register to see Lino ordering and grabbed his phone to check it. Chan texted him that they got wristbands for the rides, so they needed to grab them if they wanted to go on any of them. He texted him back saying that they would after they ate.

A minute later, Lino came and sat down across from him with the receipt and two bottles of water, the bottles cold, the outside frosty with condensation. Jisung told him about the plan to get the wristbands, grabbing and opening one of the waters. 

“Is there anything you want to go on?” he asked me. 

He shrugged. “If the line’s not too long, I don’t wanna stand in line for an hour in this heat to go on a two-minute ride.”

“Isn’t there a water ride somewhere?” Lino asked. Jisung hummed that he didn’t know. “Would be lovely if there was.”

Jisung hummed again with a nod, agreeing before they fell into comfortable silence. Silence was something he usually hated, usually preferring to talk the other person’s ear off, but Lino was different. They had always been comfortable just sitting in silence, even in high school when they were both at the peak of their social awkwardness. 

He sat across from him, fingers playing with the receipt, folding it in half before rolling it up and flattening it out again. He had a scratch on the back of his hand from Soonie, his cat. He always seemed to have one, or several, but he said it never bothered him, that they were just playing, that it was a reminder for when the little one passes on. 

His skin looked pale in the blue-white light of the “Diner” neon sign that was behind me. He looked down at their hands; his tan made Minho look paler, or maybe he just made Jisung look darker. Minho’s veins were blue on the back of his hands. Would that make him a winter? Jisung doesn't know much about color theory, but he knows Lino looks good in black.

He dyed his hair dark a year ago and has kept it dark since, only changing up the tone once from a warm chocolate to a midnight blue. He said he didn’t notice a difference, but Jisung did. He wonders if Minho knows his favorite color is blue. 

Minho’s grown a lot since high school: taller, broader, growing into his looks, and less round in the face. He had always been handsome—

“God is always watching.”

He had caught the interest of pretty girls at school, but he never took any of them out. He told him he just wasn’t interested in dating, more focused on work and school—now just work. He was still an idiot, still a dork, and most definitely still weird—

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t date.

—but he was kind. He has always been kind, even when life was not kind to him. Rough exterior but soft-hearted. Despite his sharp eyes, he looked at the world with grace and gratitude. He was good. Minho was good, and it made Jisung wonder what he was.

“Sinful. Dirty. Unworthy.”

“A loser in a button-up and a storybook can’t send you to hell, Ji.”

Suddenly, he’s sixteen again, and Minho’s asking him what he wants for breakfast, and he’s telling him about how he cried for a week straight when Mom walked out on them. Minho is handing him the milk to put in his coffee, and Jisung hands him his journal filled with letters to God he wrote when he was fourteen and scared. Lino laughs when he complains about his psychiatrist's couch being made out of blue tweed. He’s trying to do the normal things—the mundane things—while Jisung throws up pieces of his past at his feet. “These are the things that I’ve been through, and it’s mostly sad. These are the places I’ve been, and they're mostly awful.” He couldn’t ever be anything but honest with him, and yet, Minho never pulled away from him.

Eventually, their order number was called, and Minho got up to get it, coming back with a tray of food and a large cup with a lid and a straw.

Jisung raised an eyebrow at the cup, asking a silent question.

“Got a milkshake to share,” he said simply, nudging his burger to his side of the tray. Ice cream sounded good in this heat. Jisung grabbed it and took a sip, sighing happily. Mint chocolate, his favorite. 

He picked up and unwrapped the burger, pulling the top bun off. Three little, green, sour circles stared at him from the top of the patty, his nose scrunching at the sight. Lino just huffed out a short laugh and reached over, taking the pickles off of Jisung’s burger, putting them on his. 

“Weirdo,” Lino mumbled. 

Jisung sent a weak glare. “They’re gross,” he said, scrunching his nose at it. Minho just shrugged and popped a fry in his mouth

They ate quickly and quietly, the small, late breakfast they had that morning leaving them running on fumes until now. Minho finished before he did and started stealing Jisung’s fries, which he slapped Lino’s hand for, but he knew Jisung didn’t actually mind; he rarely ever finished them all anyway. Minho kicked him under the table, mumbling something about respecting his elders while he snatched the milkshake right out of Jisung’s hand. 

“Hey!” Jisung whined, pouting as he tried to reach for it. He sounded like a petulant child, but it made Lino laugh; Jisung liked hearing him laugh, it made him feel warm, but maybe that was just because of the heat.

They cleaned up soon after that, not wanting to take up a table, even though the air conditioning made them want to. Jisung texted his brother to figure out where he was.

They ended up meeting by the row of carnival game stalls, standing next to a game where you shoot a stream of water at a target to move a plastic horse, and the first one to cross the finish line wins. 

“I never understood how that works,” Jisung said, thinking aloud. Lino hummed, looking at the stall.

“They’re all scams anyway,” he said.

“You worked at one of them,” Jisung pointed out. 

Back in high school, Minho had once worked a summer job at one of the carnival game stalls at an amusement park. He complained about it the whole time, but Jisung knew he enjoyed working with kids. He was charming like that. 

He looked at him pointedly. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m telling you, they’re all scams.”

Jisung snorted and looked back at the game, looking up to see the stuffed animal selection they had available for prizes. Jisung’s brows furrowed when he read the sign for what the game was called.

“‘ Little Squirt ?’” he read out loud, making Lino look over at the sign.

“Pfft,” he sputtered. “Nice.”

“That has to be intentional.”

He hummed in agreement. “Probably.”

Jisung blinked.

“You think there’s a ‘big squirt’ running around somewhere?” Minho asked, humor creeping into his voice. 

“Oh my god, little ears, No!” he hissed, glancing around for any children that might be lingering around to hear them. 

Minho waved a hand dismissively. “They’re too hyped up on sugar to listen to a joke they probably won’t even understand.”

Jisung just huffed at him. 

When Chan and Lix finally showed up, she was holding a small stuffed rabbit that Jisung guessed came from Chan’s attempt at winning a game. 

“Here,” Chan said, handing Lino two highlighter-green wristbands to put on. “If you wanna play the games, it’s cash, or you can get tickets at the booth up at the front.”

Lino and Jisung helped each other put the wristbands on.

“Have you guys gone on any rides yet?” Jisung asked, noticing their wristbands were already on. 

Lix shook her head, clutching the plush bunny in slender fingers. “No, they decided to check out some of the games and got some food.”

“What game did you win?” Jisung asked, nodding to the stuffed rabbit as he fiddled with Lino’s wristband, securing it. She smiled brightly. She was a gorgeous girl and had always been very sweet, but honestly, he had no idea what she saw in his brother, a stupid meathead jock who was occasionally a good cook.

“Chan won this for me at darts!” she said excitedly, cheeks flushed the same shade of pink as his brother’s ears.

“Cliché,” Lino said, covering it with a fake cough.

“Shut up,” Chan mumbled, glaring at the both of them.

“Oh, come on, I think it’s romantic!” Lix said, rolling her eyes. Jisung just giggled and shook his head.

“Anyway, I wanted to check out the Heart-Flipper ride,” Lino said. 

Lix lit up. “I wanna go on that too!” she said, turning to Chan, making pleading eyes at him. 

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, wrapping an arm around her waist. His brother may be a dick, but Lix made him happy. 

They started making their way towards the more spread-out section of the park, a grid layout for some of the bigger rides they had set up. 

“Oh god, that looks intense,” Chan mumbled as they came up to it.

To be fair, the Heart Flipper was intense-looking, with spinning booths attached to arms that were attached to a core that also spun, and not to mention, the booths spun three hundred sixty degrees, meaning they could spin upside down. 

“Oh, relax,” Jisung said. “I can’t handle anything that extreme, so I’m not gonna spin it hard.”

“Good, I’m going with you then,” Chan said. 

“Boo, you guys are boring,” Lino said flatly, making Lix giggle. “Lix and I will go together, and you guys can go be pussies over there.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jisung shrugged, happy with that plan. 

“I’m so gonna pass out on this,” Lix said, watching the current go-around. It hurt Jisung’s brain to watch because of how fast it was going. 

“Wait, like, actually?” Lino asked her. She giggled and nodded, her grin wide and excited. Lino looked back at the ride, people screaming as they spun around and around and every which way. “Dope.”

Something in Jisung’s chest hurt a little, watching them interact, but he didn’t think much of it because soon enough, they were moving forward in line. 

Chapter Text

Jisung’s heart thumped in his chest as the gate opened and people stumbled, both laughing and groaning that they were dizzy as they made their way towards the exit. 

The pods were shaped like hearts, decorated like strawberries. They had three seats each, with secure over-the-shoulder-lap bars surrounding a disc that the riders spun if they wanted to. If you didn’t touch it, then the machine just spun the pod in wide circles rather than the pod spinning by itself. 

Jisung and Chan got on one together. A girl came over and asked if she could ride with them. They told her they weren’t gonna spin it hard, and she smiled and nodded, getting on. Jisung’s hands were clammy as he pulled the lap bar down as far as he could. The plastic seats were hot, and he wondered if the machines ever got too hot to function. He looked across to the pod opposite them, Minho and Lix and some poor unsuspecting soul strapping in as well. He couldn’t help but giggle nervously as he looked across from him to see Chris’ pale face; he already looked sick. 

“You wanna get off?” he asked him, but Chan shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said, flipping the baseball cap on his head from back to front, wearing it properly so he could put his head back against the headrest. “But I swear if you puke—”

“ I’m gonna be fine,” Jisung said, shoulders shaking with nervous and excited laughter. “You look like you’re about to shit your pants.”

“I’m not gonna—HOLY SHIT!”

He was cut off by the ride flinging them forward violently. Jisung screamed, shutting his eyes as they were flung in a wide circle, his back pressing into the seat with the force. He vaguely registered the female stranger’s screaming; Jisung opened his eyes to see his brother with his mouth and eyes shut tightly, holding on for dear life.

It felt like the longest and shortest few minutes of his life simultaneously. His stomach flipped every time they changed directions. They didn’t touch the disc, so it only spun in place a little while, spinning them in the wide circle. 

They were moving too fast to see the other pods easily, but Jisung could hear the excitement and terror in the screaming. He thinks he heard Lino’s voice mixed in there.

When it finally slowed to a stop, Jisung looked up, seeing Chan with his head hanging limp. He kicked a foot out to tap his brother and heard him groan. The girl glanced at him, and they both just laughed.

Jisung choked on his laughter when he looked across to the other pod where Lino and Lix were. Across the arm, the other pod was upside down, the green leaves painted on the top of the pod now a couple of feet off the platform under them. It was turned away from them, so he couldn’t see them, but he could hear Minho’s voice. 

“Oh my god!” he barked out, making Chan look over. 

“Jesus,” Chan said, brows furrowed in concern. 

The ride operator came over and slowly turned the pod upright before it locked in place so it wouldn’t move as people got on and off. 

The sun blinded Jisung as he stepped out of the strawberry heart-shaped pod. Reaching up, he pushed his fringe out of his face, wiping away sweat as he tried to steady himself. 

Both Chan and the stranger seemed alright enough on their own, so he headed across to the opposite pod, finding the ride operator helping Lix out of her seat. Lino was already off and had lowered himself to the ground for stability, laughing heartily. 

Lix seemed pale in comparison to before the ride, but she was grinning ear to ear as the staff member helped her step down. Chan moved to help her towards the exit, so Jisung turned his attention to Lino.

“Oh my god,” Lino said, breathlessly in between laughs, “that was,” he laughed again, “insane.”

“Come on, big guy,” Jisung said, crouching down next to him to grab his arm to help him stand. Minho was heavy as he leaned on Jisung for stability. 

“The world is spinning,” he said in a sing-songy voice. Jisung couldn’t help but laugh and put his arm around Lino’s shoulder, grabbing his waist to walk him towards the exit. Minho was warm where he was pressed against the younger’s side. Jisung could feel the way Lino’s stomach muscles contracted as he breathed out dying laughs. “Wooo,” Minho said again, stumbling a little to the side. 

“Oh my god, is this what you’re like when you’re drunk?” Jisung asked. Lino just giggled, wrapping his arm around his friend’s shoulder tighter.

They walked over to where Chan was giving Lix some water; Chan standing with his hand pressed to his head.

“Remind me, why did we do that?” he asked with a groan. Lino just giggled, drunk on laughter. 

“It was fun,” he answered, drawing out the ‘u.’ Jisung just snorted, giving him back most of his weight. 

“I’m never doing that again,” Chan said, taking a swig from his and Cass’s shared water. 

Jisung heard a short groan from beside him and turned in time to see Lino stumble over to the back of a booth, pressing a hand to the wall. He leaned over and gagged.

“Oh my god,” Jisung said, brows furrowed in both amusement and concern. 

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” Lino called out, waving dismissively. He sighed with a groan a second later. “No, I’m not,” he said, just before he gagged again, leaning over to puke into the grass. 

To say Jisung nearly pissed himself laughing at him would be an understatement. 

A steady stream of tears rolled down his face as he lay in the grass, trying not to pass out from lack of air. He clutched his stomach in pain, barely able to breathe. He couldn’t look at Minho to make sure he was okay because a new round of laughter would just start up again. Lino seemed to be in the same position, lying on his back—not in his puke, thankfully. Lix was on her hands and knees, laughing steadily at the immense dumbass Jisung called “best friend.” Chan seemed embarrassed by them, but Jisung knew he was laughing, leaning against the wall of another booth, trying to catch his breath. 

“You are,” Jisung wheezed, “so fucking dumb!” 

“I think I’m gonna puke again,” Lino said through a string of giggles. 

Jisung snorted and pointed the other way. “Do it that way,” he wheezed out. 

Minho chuckled, letting his head drop to the ground, reaching up to cover his face with his hands like he could block out the world to make it stop spinning or to stop laughing. Jisung just closed his eyes, resting his forearm over them to block out the sun. He figured he should probably get up before he gets itchy from the grass. 

After a moment of just trying to catch his breath, Jisung pushed himself to sit up. Lino was still on his back, hands covering his face. Jisung sighed, trying not to laugh again before he puked. 

God, Jisung only ever seems to laugh this hard around him—because of him. Jisung sees Minho’s face when he closes his eyes. He wondered what that meant, memorizing his face like it was his own reflection, like a prayer that needs to be said every night.

Jisung waved a hand in the air blindly; Chan grabbed his hand to help him up.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink for him,” Jisung said, to which Chan nodded. Thankfully, they were standing along a wall of snack stands, so finding one that sold water wasn’t hard. He hesitated, though, because Lino probably wanted to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth, so he added a frozen lemonade to the mix. The sour citric acid probably wouldn’t help settle his stomach, but it was better than the taste of vomit. 

Jisung paid and came around to the back to see Lino sitting up against the back of the shack. He chuckled, crouching next to the older as he cracked open the top of the water, handing it over to him.

“You still spinnin’, ballerina?” Jisung asked with a grin. 

Lino looked at him and snorted, taking a sip of the water. He nodded to the other cup in his hands. “Whatcha got?” 

“Frozen lemonade,” he said. 

Minho’s eyes lit up. “Ooo, gimme,” he said, holding his hand out for the cap to the water, which Jisung gave him. He capped the water, and they switched, Jisung handing him the Styrofoam cup and spoon. “My fave,” Lino said with a giddy chuckle. 

Jisung hummed, amused. “I know.” He looked up to see empty space, no Chan or Felicity. “Where’s my brother?” he asked, my brows furrowed. 

Minho glanced up at him from the Styrofoam cup. “Oh, they went to the bathroom.”

Jisung just nodded. “We should go to the bathroom too,” he said with a grin. “I almost just pissed myself.” 

Lino grinned back at him. “Sure,” he said, reaching out for Jisung to help him up.

“Jesus, you’re heavy,” he groaned, straining as Minho used his weight to pull himself up. When he got to his feet, Minho frowned and reached over to flick his ear. 

“Ow!” Lino hissed, yanking his hand back.

“Ha! That’s what you get!” Jisung grinned.

“Your ear fucking bit me,” Minho complained, looking at his finger, shaking out his hand. 

Jisung rolled his eyes, starting to head towards the bathroom. “You flicked my piercing, dumbass,” he said, reaching up to pull at the industrial bar that went through the cartilage. “It’s the universe telling you, ‘don’t be mean to me.’”

“I wouldn’t if you weren’t being a brat,” he said, sticking his tongue out at him. Jisung did it back, blowing a raspberry at him. Lino did not look amused. 

It was a quick trip to the bathroom, Lino taking a moment at the sinks to wash up, making sure he didn’t have any residual puke on his shirt. 

They found Chan and Lix standing nearby, so they headed over. They seemed to be in some kind of hushed argument with the way Felicity spoke with her hands.

“...if nothing’s happened yet, then don’t say anything about it. You’ll just freak ‘em out,” she whispered harshly at his brother. Jisung raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t say what to whom?” Lino asked, speaking Jisung’s exact thoughts. Lix looked startled as she looked over at us. There was a heavy pause for a moment. Lix glanced at Chris, who stared blankly at Jisung. The younger boy just blinked, tilting his head, confused.

“Nothing,” Chan said, shaking his head. “Just a weird conversation I overheard. Don’t worry about it.”

Jisung blinked. That felt like a stiff response. He glanced at Lino, who was distracted, still scooping at the frozen lemonade. 

“Okay,” Lino said simply. “What do you guys wanna do now?”

“Not sure,” Lix said. Chan just shrugged, slinging an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side.

Jisung’s throat felt dry, so he reached over and nudged Lino’s hand to give him the lemonade. He was reluctant to let him have it, eventually handing it over with a dramatic huff through his nose. Jisung gave him the bird in return.

“You can have the rest,” Lino said softly, their fingers brushing slightly as Jisung took it, his skin tingling.

“I was thinking maybe we could—”

Jisung hummed, not really paying attention, focused on tapping the bottom of the cup, dumping the flavored ice into his mouth. They discussed whether another ride was a good idea or if the games were even worth giving a shot. There wasn’t much left of the drink, so he made his way over to a trash can, scooping the last bit of ice into his mouth before tossing it into the trash.

“Ew, Lino!” Lix yelled, making him look over to see Lino laughing. Chan was shaking his head but had an amused grin on his face. 

Jisung trotted back over to them. “What happened?” he asked. 

“Lino’s being gross,” Lix said. 

“What?” Lino asked, giggling at his own joke still. “You’re saying you’d never fuck in a public bathroom?” he asked, amused.

Lix laughed but shook her head. “God, no, that’s disgusting,” she said. “Have you seen public restrooms? Awful.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like it’s exactly sanitary to fuck either,” Lino pointed out. 

Lix grimaced but still shook her head. “Still, no,” she said. “Too many people come in and out, and the floors are so gross, I wouldn’t give head in there even if I wanted to.”

My brother had a look. “Well, there was that one time—” 

“Nope! No, no, lalalala,” Jisung shrieked, covering his ears so he didn’t have to listen to his brother talk about his sexcapades. They all just laughed at him as he glared at them.

“What about you, Ji?” Lino asked, his laugh tapering off as he spoke. He had a mischievous glint in his espresso-brown eyes, grinning. “Would you?” 

Jisung blinked, his throat going dry again. 

Maybe I need to get another bottle of water.

“I don’t know, I’m a virgin,” he said. Lino blinked at him.

“I know,” he said, gaze turning a bit softer, tilting his head slightly, “but you can still have an opinion.”

It was hot, standing there in the sun; Jisung could feel his cheeks turning red under the heat. 

Maybe I should’ve put on the sunscreen Lix had.

“Mm,” he thought about it, pressing his lips together in a line. “Nah, too much work.”

Lino laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “God, yeah, and in this heat?” he said, shaking his head. “Brutal.”

Lix shivered dramatically, face scrunched in disgust. “Gross,” she hissed. 

Jisung snorted.

“Anyway, I wanna go scam the scammers,” Lino said. “Who’s with me?”

“Isn’t that just cheating?” Jisung asked. 

Lino shrugged. “Only if we get caught.”

Jisung rolled his eyes at him. “Fine, but if we get thrown out, you’re paying for our ride back home.”

Lino gave him a salute. “I’m not gonna go overboard or anything.” 

“I doubt that, somehow,” he said, putting his hands on his hips, squinting at him.

“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up three fingers like he was taking an oath.

“Fine, fine,” Jisung said, turning back to see that Lix and Chan were gone. “Where’d they go?”

“Probably to fuck, not in a public bathroom,” he answered with a snicker. He then shrugged. “Probably got bored of our bickering,” he said with a teasing smile. Jisung made a face at him that just made him smile wider. Lino looked off in the direction they probably went. “They grow up so fast,” he said, fake sentimentality lacing his voice.

“You’re such an idiot, I swear,” Jisung said, shaking his head and starting to head towards the game stalls, figuring Lino would follow eventually. 

At this point, the sky was starting to get a bit darker, approaching golden hour as the sun lowered towards the horizon. It was still humid; the cicadas screamed out in the distance, closer to the park’s tree line. Weathered, grey cypress trees towering in the distance, the Spanish moss-draped branches swaying gently in the humid breeze. 

They walked over to the games area, looking around at the different stalls, stopping to pick up another bottle of water. Lino also decided to get a small carton of popcorn. Eating something salty in this weather seemed outrageous to Jisung, but they had different tastes in snacks. Lino always went for the salty or the sour (or the spicy when he wanted to have it all to himself, laughing at me for not being able to handle the heat). Jisung liked the sweet side of things, usually going for the most sugary thing on the menu. Sometimes, he’d like to think they go well together

Looking around at the game stalls, there were the common ones, like fishing for the duck with a certain sticker on the bottom, the water gun race game they had come across earlier in the day, ring toss, darts, and the one where you throw a baseball at a tower of stacked tin cans. Jisung pointed to the basketball one, where you shoot as many hoops as you can in under a minute, or something.

“That’s the one you worked on, right?” he asked. Lino looked up from his popcorn, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying it. He nodded. 

“Yeah, but mine was bigger,” he said, a smirk crawling onto his face after the words had left his lips. He looked at Jisung expectantly, waiting in silence for a reaction.

“That’s what she said,” he said flatly, giving in to his antics.

Lino laughed, reaching over to ruffle his hair like he was proud of him for making the dumb joke. Jisung shoved his hand away, making him spill a couple pieces of popcorn, making him stop. 

“I hate you,” he grumbled. Minho just grinned.

“You love me,” he purred, amused. 

Jisung’s heart did a thing where it felt like it did a cartwheel. It seems to do that sometimes. He thinks maybe he should go to the doctor to get checked for a heart murmur. Maybe it’s because of the heat. He grabbed the bottle of water from the older, all too aware of how warm his fingers were when they brushed against his.

My lord, my God, have mercy on my heart. 

Silence.

Once again, I talk to God, but the sky is empty.

“You are always being watched by an unknown entity. Everything is your fault. Sinful! Sinful—you are dirty and worthless.”

“Which game do you wanna scam?” Jisung ended up asking him. 

Minho looked around, looking thoughtful for a moment with his lips pursed. “Probably darts,” he said, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Maybe basketball.”

Jisung reached up to wipe his forehead with the cuff of his sleeve. He looked over to see Minho looking, blinking at him slowly. 

“What?” Jisung asked. 

Minho shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I wanna try ring toss, though; I was never quite able to figure that one out.”

“Ok,” he said, gesturing for the older to lead the way, falling into step beside him, grabbing a couple pieces of popcorn to snack on. “The popcorn’s good.”

“Carnival popcorn and movie theater popcorn are the OGs; you can never go wrong with some salted, buttery goodness,” Minho said. 

He nodded. “Yeah, but kettle corn is pretty good too.” 

Lino looked at me with a disappointed face, shaking his head. “You’re addicted to sugar, I swear.”

“That’s what makes me so sweet,” Jisung cooed at him. 

What a dumb joke. 

“Uh huh, Stupid Cupid, sure it is,” he said, reaching up to wipe his temple of sweat. The tips of his ears were pink, as were the highs of his cheekbones. Maybe he got a bit toasty in the sun; he probably should’ve put more sunscreen on at some point. No use now, he guesses, with the sun going down.

Lino put down a couple of bucks for the both of them to toss some rings at the bottles. They both sucked at it. Lino was better at it than he was, but even together they still didn’t have enough points for a small prize. 

“Damn, I thought I had it that time,” Lino mumbled. Jisung just laughed, holding the carton of popcorn and water. “I’m gonna kick ass at the tin can one, though—wait, they have a shooting game?” Lino interrupted himself, getting distracted by plastic shotguns and the sound of pellets hitting metal. “Oh, fuck yes.”

Jisung wasn’t very good at this kind of game, so he skipped out. He thought Lino wouldn’t be very good either, until he picked up the red plastic gun, holding it up against his shoulder. 

He got the second-highest score of the day. Jisung could only watch in amazement as pellet after pellet hit one of the smallest targets, worth a lot of points. Minho’s hands were steady with his feet apart; he almost looked like he knew what he was doing with a gun in his hand.

Jisung knew better, though. He was a total loser, a nerd, just like him.

“God loves you.”

He won a pair of sunglasses that you could probably get at the dollar store, but he was stoked anyway, settling them on his face before turning to look at Jisung.

“How do I look?” he asked. “Hot, right?”

“Sure,” Jisung said. “A real smoke show.” 

You could probably pull off anything you want to wear. 

He snorted and put the glasses up to rest on the top of his head.

“You know, I thought my family was supposed to be the redneck one,” Jisung said. 

Lino snorted. “Oh, don’t worry, you still are,” he said. Jisung smacked him in the shoulder. 

“Alright, I want a turn,” the younger said, dragging him over to the water gun stall so he could play. Lino snickered, looking up at the sign. Jisung just rolled his eyes with a sigh.

He gave the worker a couple of bucks and sat down on a hard plastic, blue stool that was still warm from the fading sun. 

“The trick is to lean it forward—”

“I got it, Nono, thanks,” Jisung said, sending a brazen glare over at him. He chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender, and backed away to watch patiently. 

He didn’t win, but he did come in second place, which is better than first in his book. Lino just chuckled at him and brought him over to the balloon darts stall, shoving the popcorn and half-empty water in his hands before pulling out a couple of dollars.

“Ready to be amazed?” he asked, grinning stupidly at him as the staff worker handed him the darts. Jisung just smiled and shook his head as he leaned against the booth next to him, waiting to see how this goes. Lino took a moment to look at the board of partially blown-up balloons, analyzing them as the staff worker explained the rules to them and the couple of kids down at the other end. 

He had six darts, meaning he had six chances to pop a balloon. If he pops six balloons, he gets the choice of an ultimate prize, which is just a giant stuffed animal. Jisung looked up at the stuffed creatures hanging by cords from the ceiling, curious which one he’ll get. Probably the purple cat, knowing him.

The staff worker stepped to the side and counted down. Lino set his feet, seemingly zoned in on the board. The girls down at the other end tossed their darts the best they could, a couple landing between the board, a couple not sticking. One girl got a balloon. 

Lino threw one, smoothly popping a green balloon, and then set up for the next one. He bit his tongue in concentration as he set up, jaw clenched. He spent a good couple of seconds aiming before tossing it perfectly, popping a yellow one, then a pink one, then a purple one, then a green one again. Jisung noticed he was going for the biggest balloons, the ones filled with the most air. He set up for the last throw. The stall worker did not seem impressed; Jisung had to turn away so he didn’t laugh. 

The last balloon he popped was blue. 

Jisung nearly lost it when the worker glared at him. Lino only grinned at him with that stupid look, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He looked good in the golden light. He looked good when he was happy. 

“Be ashamed of your desire.”

Can I be forgiven even if I don’t regret it?

Lino picked a giant hedgehog, which surprised him. It was bigger than his torso and extremely squishy. It was cute, but Jisung was silently hoping he wouldn’t make him hold it the rest of the night; it was too hot for anything cuddly.

The girl that popped a balloon chose a rubber duck. They had to be around eleven or twelve, looking over at them with a curious look. Jisung’s brows furrowed as one of the girls came over.

“Dude, how did you do that?” she asked, looking up at Minho with a wide-eyed, bright look. 

Lino smiled at her. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said. The woman working the stall heard that and sent a glare at him. Jisung covered his mouth so he wouldn’t make her even madder and kick them out. “But really, don’t waste your time or your money on these things,” he told the three girls, leaning in to whisper loudly. “They’re scams.”

“Yeah, but they’re fun!” the young brunette said. 

Lino laughed and nodded. “I agree, but here,” he said, holding out the plushy for them to take. “You guys played fair; you deserve it more than I do.”

“Really?” The blonde screeched, hands reaching out for the hedgehog. Lino nodded.

“Oh my god, thank you!” the other brunette said. “We’ll share it!” 

“Take good care of him,” Lino said, waving as the girls turned to run away with their new treasure. Jisung noticed the way they looked back at them, giggling and whispering to each other.

“They’re definitely crushing on you now,” he said, his shoulders sagging, heart feeling heavy in his chest, pumping chocolate syrup rather than blood—sweet and heavy. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck. 

“What can I say? I’m a charmer,” Lino said with a shrug and a coy smile. 

Jisung huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think you wanna be known for going around and charming twelve-year-old girls,” he said. 

Lino’s face immediately fell into one of disgust. “I would not,” he said flatly, making Jisung laugh. 

Lino laughed with him. His eyes crinkled as he scrunched his nose, teeth bared in a pretty smile, the two front teeth ever so slightly crooked. Many people wouldn’t have noticed, but he did. Jisung guesses he spends a lot of time watching him smile. 

His eyes are like the setting sun, and his laugh breathes peace down his neck.

I wonder if God is still watching. He would understand if he was. I think it may just be myself watching myself. 

Chapter Text

It’s golden hour and Lino thinks he’s going blind with how brightly Jisung smiles at me. His heart somersaults when Jisung rolls his eyes at him. Jisung calls him a dork but says that he’s kind for giving those girls the prize he won in the same breath. He’d win every prize available and give them away if it meant he would keep smiling like that. 

Sometimes Lino wonders if he knows. He swears that sometimes he knows, but he never says anything, so he doesn't either. 

The sky turned an array of orange and pinks as they walked around a bit longer. Jisung wondered where his brother was, but Lino tells him it doesn’t really matter; probably left them here to have some alone time with his girlfriend. Jisung laughs at that and opens the water, taking the last sip of it. He swallows, his heart-shaped Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and Lino could only blink. 

So many things about Jisung are heart-shaped, full of love and sunshine, but maybe he’s biased. His lips form a stretched heart when his smile reaches his eyes. The younger is all soft curves when he’s all sharp edges, and Lino wonders if he’s ever hurt him. Jisung has never complained about it, and he’s too scared to ask.

And he can’t stop dreaming about him, about devouring him, loving him. He ain’t never even touched him outside his head, so how is it he can still be homesick for this feeling he doesn't even know?

“I want something frozen,” Jisung said, dragging me back towards the food stalls. 

“So get something frozen,” Lino tells him. Jisung glares at him, annoyed, and continues looking around for another sweet thing to try. 

“Oh, that looks good,” he said, heading for the stall beside the “ Candy Factory. ” The sign was multicolored, reading out “ Frozen Bananas, ” another that said “ Shaved Ice, ” and a third that said “ Caramel Apples. ”

“What are you getting?” Minho asked, bending down a bit to hear him. 

Jisung leaned back to speak. “Frozen banana,” he said. 

Lino hummed, inhaling the humid air around them. Jisung smelled like toasted marshmallows and peach tea. He smelled like summertime. He reminded him of home.

Minho ended up deciding to get shaved ice because something frozen did actually sound good. He knows he’s gonna feel like crap tomorrow after eating so much junk, but it’s totally worth the suffering. Jisung seemed to never pay too much attention to his eating habits, having a stupidly fast metabolism. He always was a bit slender, always a bit more lithe, even in high school. He’d been going to the gym with Chan lately, building up some muscle mass. His shoulders have gotten broader, his shape tapering in at his waist—that stupidly small waist. Minho wouldn’t lie and say he doesn't think about holding him there, fingers pressing into muscle and ribs and the bit of softness.

And he was lucky, because every once in a while he could. He’s the luckiest man in the world because he gets to look at Jisung almost whenever he wants to. He gets to look at him in the mornings when they sleep over, and he gets to look at him now, bathed in golden hour light, tanned skin glowing like he was made up of glitter and sunlight. He’s positive Jisung must be blessed by Apollo or some other sun deity, his own radiant beam in the night. 

His warm caramel locks were wavy in the humid air, damp with sweat, the ends curling, clinging to the skin on the back of his neck. He’d been growing out his hair, and Minho wanted nothing more than to tangle his fingers into it. 

Jisung had a glint in his eyes when he looked at the older, making his heart punch against the wall of his chest cavity. 

Suffering can feel religious if you do it right.

Minho ordered the treats, paying for both of them. No amount of money would ever come close to the value of spending time with him.

They handed him a frozen banana on a stick, dipped in chocolate and covered in rainbow sprinkles. Minho got shaved ice with peach-flavored syrup.

Jisung started walking towards what he guessed was the stage—Lino was merely following him. Walking carefully, watching as he took small bites of the frozen fruit, the chocolate hard shell cracking and shattering, sprinkles falling to the ground to be disposed of by the ants and worms or whatever would be willing to eat colored sugar and cornstarch. 

Jisung caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. Minho felt his lips pull into a grin, looking at the banana and back to him. Jisung looked at it and back at him, cheeks flushing a peachy shade of pink that reminded me of peach ring gummies. Round and soft and sweet—he would bite him if he could.

“No, no!” he yelled, smacking him in the shoulder, exasperated. “Don’t make it weird!”

Minho giggled at his embarrassment. Making him flustered was one of his favorite pastimes; either he makes him flustered and sees his pretty face flush, or he laughs and he gets to see his heart-shaped smile. It was always a win-win, and he never crossed the line, even if he wanted to.

“I’m makin’ it weird,” Minho said, reaching out to poke his cheek, warm to the touch. “You’re the one who likes the fruit of the devil.”

Jisung rolled his eyes, taking a harsh bite of the banana, smiling smugly when he winced. 

“You had a bad banana once when you were, what? Eight?” he asked. “Maybe you should try it again; you might like it.”

“Uh uh,” Minho shook his head. “Hell no, have you ever tried to eat something and it had the completely wrong texture? It’s awful—traumatizing!”

“Come on, just try it,” he said, offering the treat to him. Minho backed away from him, making him giggle.

“Nope, no thanks,” Minho said. “If you can hate pickles, then I can hate bananas, fair?”

His smile returned, and Minho felt like he was back on the Heart Flipper, dizzy and dazed. 

“Boo,” he said, pulling off a piece of cracked chocolate and putting it in his mouth. “You’d probably like the flavor.”

Maybe if I tasted it kissing you.

“Do you wanna find somewhere to sit?” Minho asks instead. Jisung’s honeyed whiskey eyes looked up, and Lino grinned. 

“Sure.” 

My little angel of light.  

Minho wiped sweat from the front of his neck as they walked towards the seating area, where they were lucky to find an empty bench. They shared the table with a couple sitting at the other end. They glanced at them when they walked up. Minho asked if they could sit, and the guy just gave them a blank look and a nod. The woman stared at him with a look he’d come to be familiar with. Something tainted with disdain, disgust. He ignored it and blocked Jisung from her view, straddling the bench, facing the younger boy, his back to her. 

They're gonna crucify me anyway.

They always seem to know, or think they know. The hard part is that they’re right. His hands have long since been stained; he’s accepted that he will never be good in the eyes of God. Jisung could be—wants to be—but with every touch Minho marks his hands more and more; every Sunday Jisung scrubs and scrubs, but they, too, are stained. 

You are not as damned as you think you are. 

You are not as damned as you think you are. 

You are not as damned as you think you are. 

They ate quickly and quietly, trying to finish the frozen treats before they started to melt. Jisung had a pink sprinkle on the front of his shirt and a spot of chocolate on his bottom lip. Minho smiled softly, Jisung’s eyes falling to his mouth with the movement. Minho wanted to sigh at the ache in his chest. He licked his bottom lip, which Jisung imitated. He looked away and reached up, brushing away any sticky residue with the back of his hand.

They finished eating and talked for a bit, leaning on the hot tabletop, Minho’s head resting on his palm, propped up to look at him. Jisung talked about music, about lyrics, about stuff he wasn’t familiar with, but he listened because it hurt not to pay attention to him. He talked passionately, his pretty, melodic voice is one of Minho’s favorite sounds. His whiskey eyes lit up, nearly glowing brighter than the neon lights that were starting to shine. 

Perhaps Icarus wanted to fall. He knew the consequences; he needed to touch the sun, a bright and exciting end to such a dull life, so he fell, but as he fell, he laughed. If the sun looked anything like him, Minho would happily sacrifice his life too. 

His chest felt like it was gonna crack. The sun was gone, but the heat lingered like it does in the summer. A hot breeze passed through the fair set up, making goosebumps crawl across his skin. 

He stopped talking after a while and looked around. Minho was about to ask what was wrong, but he answered it before he could get words out.

“I wanna get some water.”

Lino agreed, also feeling parched, so they got up. He glanced back to see that the woman and her man were gone, feeling a bit of relief course through him. Jisung doesn’t deserve what they do to you when they know—how they treat you. It’s never a lesson. It shouldn’t happen. It would never be his fault that the world is cruel, that real monsters hide behind human hearts. 

Minho followed him over to a cart to get a couple of waters. 

“We’ve probably spent like twenty bucks today on water alone,” he pointed out, seeing that this cart was charging two dollars more for the same water they got earlier. 

Jisung shrugged, cracking the cap of his bottle. “Rather spend twenty bucks on water than two thousand on an ambulance ride to a hospital for heat stroke or dehydration,” he said before chugging almost half of it. 

Lino sighed. “Fair enough,” he said, still thinking it was a little dumb to charge for water in this weather. A memory popped up at the mention of an ambulance. “Hey, remember that time at the seafood boil place—”

“And the lady who was allergic to shellfish had an allergic reaction, and they had to call an ambulance?” Jisung asked, shaking his head with a fond smile. “You were dying.”

“She was still trying to get the manager to call the CEO when they wheeled her out of there! It was crazy! Like, seriously, why would she go?” he asked. “It was a dumb move on her part. Genuinely! She should’ve just gone somewhere else or stayed home and made something.”

“Not everyone can cook, No,” Jisung said, round eyes sending a playful glare at him. 

He chuckled. “Right, I forgot,” he said, shifting his weight to pop a hip out slightly. “ Do you know how to cook anything besides ramen?”

Jisung pursed his lips, trying not to laugh. “Totally.”

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Jisung glanced at him, lips parted slightly as he tried to come up with an answer.

“Um…microwave popcorn?” He said, shoulders raised to his ears with an unsure shrug.

Minho just laughed.

“Okay! Okay, maybe I’m not the best—”

“You can say that again,” Minho murmured, to which Jisung shot a glare at him.

Lino was expecting him to say something more, but instead Jisung held up his water, the cap off, and pointed at his face before he clapped the body of the bottle, sending water shooting at him. Minho jerked away as water splashed and dripped down his face and chest. He blinked in surprise when he could see again, looking at him in disbelief. 

A grin started creeping its way onto Jisung’s face as it dawned on him what he had just done. He laughed, starting to back away from Minho, but he took off after the younger.

He didn’t make it far; running while trying to dodge innocent bystanders did not go well for him, plus Lino was faster. He grabbed Jisung’s arm, pulling him to stop. He shrieked, trying to pull away, already flinching away from the water Minho had yet to pour on him. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he giggled, trying to shove the older away. Minho just wrapped an arm around his waist, dragging him back into his chest. The water swished out onto his wrist as Jisung laughed, trying to get away. He seemed to give up, accepting defeat as Minho dumped the rest of his water over his head. Jisung shrunk away from it, shoulders coming up to his ears like a turtle trying to hide in its shell.

Minho chuckled, only letting him go when the last drop of water fell to his perfect head of caramel waves, now a bit more weighed down, dripping with water. Jisung laughed, shoulders shaking as he turned around to look at him, one eye squinted shut as water ran down his face, trying not to get it in his eyes. 

“You are ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head, spraying water everywhere like a dog.

“You started it,” Minho said with a grin, holding a hand up to block the spray of water. 

Jisung shook his head softly before his body shook with a shiver. “Now my shirt’s all wet,” he complained. 

Minho just smiled, shrugging. “You started it,” he reminded him. “Just take it off; you have an undershirt on.”

He grimaced, pulling his waterlogged overshirt away from his body. He had that look on his face, the one full of hesitancy and self-consciousness. 

“There’s people walking around in bikini tops; you’re fine,” Minho said. He glanced at him, unsure. Minho just gave him a small, supportive smile. “Plus, your tits look great; you’d definitely win a wet t-shirt contest.”

He gaped at him, cheeks flaring bright pink, nearly the same color as the cotton candy kids were walking around with. Lino just chuckled at his reaction.

He ended up taking his overshirt off, the wet wife beater tight against his form. He tied his shirt around his waist. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face, wiping his temple with the back of his wrist.

Minho could only focus on his face, on the slope of his nose. He could only stare and hope the younger didn’t realize he was watching every drop of sweat and water trace the curve of his jaw and the front of his neck. He hoped he didn’t notice how he swallowed, his mouth suddenly gone dry, choking on words in the presence of something so holy. He focused on the small, golden cross on the gold chain encircling his neck. He wondered what his pastor would have thought. He wondered if that cross around his neck meant more to him than it did to Jisung.

Drops of sweat and water looked like liquid daylight on his skin, and he wanted to drink up every part of him, trace his collarbones with his tongue, and trace the side of his neck with his lips. 

I love you. 

The preacher may never marry them, and he might not ever know his mama, but he can kiss him over a couple beers and dance with him under a sky full of fireflies while the cicadas sing, and if that isn’t marriage, he’s not sure what else God is looking for.

And it’s bittersweet, the taste of this fatal attraction.

Minho wanted him in any way Jisung would have him. A lover? Maybe. Something tender anyway, but tender like a bruise. He was the softness after a hard day, a breath of fresh air in a life feeling stuck and stale. Minho looked away and remembered it can all be real when he falls asleep. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, bringing it up to press the sweat off of his face.

He looked up to see Jisung staring at him. He raised an eyebrow, curious to know what Jisung sees when he looks at him. Jisung blinked, and the moment passed by.

He turned away and shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out his phone. Minho finally took a breath, shaky on its way out of his lungs. 

Jisung looked concerned when he looked at his phone screen.

“What’s wrong?” 

He shook his head.