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They're on a rooftop somewhere. Helmet Boy can't remember whose it is exactly, but he's placing his bets on one of Summer's teammates. It doesn't matter whose house they're sprawled on top of, though. The only thing that matters is that the sunset is beautiful, but it's nothing in comparison to to the smile stretched across summer's face.
Helmet Boy could spend an eternity like this, he decides. They feel so far away from all their problems, like they're stuck in the clouds flying over their heads. It almost feels like nothing bad can happen to them ever again. Helmet Boy can count each of the freckles littering Summer's face. He wants to kiss every one of them and let his actions speak for him. He wants each press of his lips to to say all the things he can't. So, in a spur of the moment decision, he brings his hands to the sides of his head and slowly takes off his helmet.
Summer is surprised, to say the least. It's not like he's never seen the boy without his helmet before, it's just that he usually refuses to take it off outside. Helmet Boy squints in the fading sunlight as the warm August breeze hits his face. He tilts his head up from where it's resting on Summer's chest and gazes up at him. Gently, he kisses the tip of Summer's nose. Then right under his left eye, then his right one. Anywhere that he can see a freckle is met with the soft press of his lips. Then, slowly but surely, he gets to Summer's lips. He kisses him softly, lazily, like they've got all the time in the world to spare.
The point he's trying to get across through the crash of his lips seems pretty obvious to him. It means many things. I've missed you. I'm so happy you're alive. I like being here with you right now. I love you. And Summer knows this. He knows exactly what Helmet Boy is trying to tell him because they're all the same things that he wants to say, too. And as the sun slowly sinks past the horizon, Summer pulls Helmet Boy even closer.