Archive of Our Own ^beta

It reaches noon on a warm summer day in northern California, and the Pineridge Summer Camp counselors enjoy a rare moment of quiet as they prepare for the incoming campers. 

And despite the abundance of free time, Donghyuck is still running late. 

He’d lost track of time this morning, tracking down his camp shirts and his Nalgene, and then had hit traffic trying to leave his parents’ house in Sacramento. And now, two hours later, he’s running twenty minutes late to the staff meeting. 

The dining hall comes into view as he rounds the corner, his sneakers crunching on the gravel path. 

Jaehyun and Johnny are sitting at the head of the table, papers spread out in front of them. Donghyuck hasn’t seen either of them since the beginning of the week-three session, because Jaehyun does upper management stuff and Johnny hires people, like the new chef they’d needed at the start of the summer because the last one had moved to LA. Johnny’s job sounds hard, because the majority of the staff is college-age. Combined with the fact that it’s a seasonal camp, Donghyuck is surprised Johnny can find anybody who will stay longer than June to August. 

There are supposed to be six of them, but there are only four people there when Donghyuck sits down at the table, interrupting Jaehyun’s run-down of their ten-day schedule. 

“Nice to see you, Donghyuck,” Jaehyun says, smiling. “Get stuck in traffic?” 

“Yeah, I picked the worst time to leave,” Donghyuck says, a little out of breath. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” 

“No worries,” Johnny assures him, passing him a stack of papers. The schedule is familiar by now—this is Donghyuck’s fifth week working the sleepaway camp and his third season as a camp counselor. Everybody at the table is also familiar. He’s known Renjun since high school—they applied here together with their friend Jeno, who was hired as the lifeguard. Iyana, Kyrie, and Sonia have been here just as long as he has, if not longer. Kyrie takes a sip of her massive coffee and waves at him. Sonia picks lazily at one of the many friendship bracelets she’s got on her wrist, and Iyana nods at him without looking up from her nails, which she’s painting bright pink. 

Which leaves one person missing. 

“Where’s Omar?” Donghyuck asks, looking around. 

“Omar got sick,” Johnny says. 

Kyrie snorts. “Omar got mono, you mean.” 

“He’s a fucking idiot, serves him right,” Sonia mumbles, and Donghyuck recalls her and Omar’s break-up one month prior. 

“Language, please,” Johnny reminds her. “The kids will be here in less than two hours.” 

“Which, speaking of, we’ve still got a lot to cover,” Jaehyun says. “We’ve got a replacement arranged—he should be here any minute.” 

“He better be good,” Donghyuck mutters to Renjun, who rolls his eyes. “I’m serious! Every spot in both the sleepaway and the day camp is full. It’s all hands on deck.” 

Donghyuck is reading over the names in his group when the door swings open again. 

“Oh, sweet, there’s Jaemin,” Jaehyun says, and Donghyuck looks up and nearly falls out of his chair. 

“No way,” Renjun says, grabbing Donghyuck’s upper arm. “Is that—is that him?” 

“The universe hates me, Renjun,” Donghyuck hisses. “Of-fucking-course it’s him.” 

Here’s the thing about Jaemin Na: he and Donghyuck had kind of…sort of…dated. Not officially, really, since they’d called it a thing and left it at that, but then it had turned into a very Big Thing for Donghyuck, until they’d gotten in a huge fight over something Donghyuck doesn’t remember. And instead of confessing, Donghyuck had told Jaemin to fuck off and never text him again. Jaemin had called him an asshole, and they’d stormed off. Donghyuck had made Jaemin his enemy, and luckily, their school was big enough that Donghyuck hadn’t seen him since the second semester ended.

That had been in May. It’s August now, and Jaemin is standing in the doorway with the sleeves of his camp shirt rolled up and his sunglasses pushing back his hair, which is a washed-out shade of pink that looks unfairly good on him. He’s a little tanner, and it makes the white flash of his smile stand out even more. 

“Oh my god,” Iyana says under her breath. Even Sonia’s normally-neutral expression has shifted to quiet amazement. 

Great. Five seconds in and the whole fucking table is in love with Jaemin. 

Except for Donghyuck, of course. Donghyuck would like to kill him. 

Jaemin takes a seat at the table next to Johnny, and Donghyuck spends the rest of the meeting taking turns ignoring him and glaring at him from under the brim of his hat. They run through the schedule for the next ten days, walking through any new games or nature lessons that have been added. Perler beads have been banned for the time being because of the black market system that had sprung up last week, culminating in a rather entertaining stand-off between groups one and two. Jeno comes in to remind them of the lake rules, because he’s the only lifeguard and it’s really stressful when kids swim under the dock where he can’t see them. 

“Okay, now that we’ve got lake rules covered,” Jaehyun says, “are there any questions about the schedule?” 

“Will we get a list of allergies?” Kyrie asks. “Because Benson from my last group was allergic to hornets and I didn’t know until he got stung.” 

“We’ve asked parents to be extra thorough, and you can always ask to double-check,” Jaehyun says, nodding. “The day camp counselors have been told that, too.” 

Jaemin rifles through the papers in front of him. “When is Capture the Flag?” 

“Friday,” Johnny says. “Sorry, I forgot to put that on there.” 

“Everybody already knows that except for you because you’re new,” Donghyuck says before he can help himself, ignoring the exasperated look Renjun gives him. 

“I’m not that new,” Jaemin replies, raising an eyebrow. “Joyce and Ian are old friends of my parents.” He sounds entirely too smug, and Donghyuck barely resists the urge to lunge across the table and deck him. 

“That’s how we found him so quickly,” Jaehyun says, entirely oblivious to the tension pulling taught between Jaemin and Donghyuck. “He went here as a kid.” 

“Remember?” Jaemin adds brightly, because he always has to have the last word. 

Oh, Donghyuck remembers. They’d talked about childhood and growing up, sitting on the roof outside of Jaemin’s room in the house he shared with five other people. Jaemin had told him about camp, and Donghyuck had countered it with a story about all his older sister’s friends. Jaemin had kissed him so sweetly that the breakup a week later had taken him almost entirely by surprise. 

Fuck you, Donghyuck wants to say, but that would give Jaemin the satisfaction of winning, so he just crosses his arms and simmers furiously in silence. 

He realizes the whole table is looking between them with expressions ranging from amused to bewildered. “Is this…gonna be a problem?” Johnny asks slowly. 

“No,” Donghyuck says, because Jaemin wants him so badly to say yes—Donghyuck can see it on his dumb beautiful face. But saying yes means admitting that he hasn’t moved on, and that some part of him is still a little attached. And, okay, fine, both of those things are true—he hasn’t moved on, and he is still a little attached, but Jaemin doesn’t need to know that. He’s not going to let Jaemin win. 

Jaemin smiles, easy, charismatic, brilliant. Johnny relaxes. Johnny trusts Jaemin because he doesn’t know that Jaemin is manipulative and evil. “No problem at all.” 

Donghyuck knows him, and that’s why he’s sure Jaemin is up to something, coming to this camp when he probably knew Donghyuck was here. It’s the last week of the whole session, and Jaemin is here to ruin it for him, beat him at a game Donghyuck didn’t know they were playing. 

“Good,” Johnny says, “because your groups are paired up.” 

Jaemin’s smile turns a little frosty around the edges, and Donghyuck feels a victorious spike of satisfaction. 

He’s got group four, which means Jaemin’s got group three. The camp is open for kids ages 8-12, and the campers are sorted into groups based mostly on age. Kyrie and Sonia get the youngest kids in groups five and six, much to Sonia’s displeasure and Kyrie’s delight. Jaemin and Donghyuck get groups of mostly nine-year-olds, giving Renjun and Iyana the oldest kids. 

Donghyuck looks at the list of kids in group four: Haley, Jack, Nia, and Caleb. Haley has a tree nut allergy, and Jack has meds he needs to take at night for asthma. Other than that, it’s fairly straightforward—Donghyuck has done this a bunch of times, so he pretty much knows what to expect. 

“Alright, if that’s everything,” Johnny says, looking through his notebook to double-check, “then enjoy your last hour of peace. Meet at the signposts by one-thirty to meet your kids for drop-off.” 

With that, he and Jaehyun pick up and head back to the offices. Sonia goes to take a shower, and Iyana leaves to go help finish setting up the girls’ cabin, which had a window broken over the weekend by a couple of over-curious raccoons. 

Jaemin and Donghyuck eye each other from across the table. “It’s good to see you,” Donghyuck says sweetly, and Jaemin smiles at him. 

“Good to see you too,” he replies. “When you said you were getting a job, I didn’t think you meant PSC.” 

“When you said you went to camp as a kid,” Donghyuck fires back, “I didn’t think you meant Pineridge.” 

“Will you guys please stop it,” Renjun sighs, throwing a napkin at Donghyuck. “Nice to meet you again, Jaemin.” 

Jaemin turns to Renjun, and instantly, his smile grows more genuine. “Renjun Huang, right? We met at that one party—” 

Donghyuck grimaces to himself and pulls out his phone, pretending to be busy. The party that Jaemin and Renjun had met at is a bad memory for him. Well, it’s a bad memory now—at the time, it had been one of the best. It was the first time Jaemin had kissed him, sober, in the early hours of the morning after Donghyuck had woken up on the couch and Jaemin had been on his way out to get coffee. They’d danced around each other all night, and a couple nights before that, too, flirting and teasing. At half-past six his mouth had tasted like cheap beer and Dominos pizza, but Jaemin had kissed him with such sweetness that Donghyuck had forgotten everything but the warmth of Jaemin’s waist through his t-shirt. 

“So, what’s the tea,” Kyrie asks, leaning close and breaking Donghyuck out of his glazed-eye reverie. He didn’t need to be thinking about the so-called good times he’d had with Jaemin, when they’d all gone to shit in the span of fifteen minutes. All the kisses in the world couldn’t change the fact that they’d fought so brutally Donghyuck had even cried about it afterwards, in the privacy of his small bathroom in his dorm. Good thing they’d never gotten together. Donghyuck doesn’t know if he could take any more arguments like that. Especially not with Jaemin, who’s a coward when it comes to a fight, sidestepping and sliding around the main point, talking in circles and making it hard to remember what Donghyuck is trying to say. 

“There is no tea,” he tells Kyrie, clearing his throat. “Jaemin and Renjun and I go to college together. Renjun and I applied together, but Jaemin apparently has history with this place. I didn’t know that.” 

“But you knew him before this?” 

“I just said we went to—” 

“Yeah, but,” Kyrie interrupts, holding up a finger, “it’s not a small school. So the fact that you know each other is tea within itself, D. And besides, you spent half the meeting glaring at him. I’m not blind.” 

“I know you’re not,” Donghyuck grumbles. “But really, there’s nothing going on.” 

Kyrie takes a long sip of her coffee. “But was there?” 

Donghyuck looks up at the same time Jaemin does. Their eyes meet again, and Donghyuck feels fire jolt down his spine. Mortal enemy, he thinks, and stands so abruptly he nearly knocks his chair over. “I’m going to go change my shoes,” he announces, and leaves before Jaemin can say anything condescending. 

“Wait, wait, I’m coming with,” Kyrie says, standing and hurrying to catch up. She’s nearly the same height as him, though, so Donghyuck can’t escape her unless he wants to run. Her feet crunch along the gravel path. 

“Dude, you have to tell me,” Kyrie says. “Like, okay, I’m guessing you’re not a thing now, because if looks could kill, you’d both be dead on the floor. Why do you hate him so much?” 

“Because I used to be in love with him,” Donghyuck says tiredly, “or something.” 

There’s a brief moment of silence as Kyrie digests this. “What the fuck,” she says at last. “Did you break up?” 

“We weren’t even together,” Donghyuck says, realizing how miserable and pathetic he sounds. “We just fought really badly, said fuck you, and then left. And I made him my enemy.” 

“And now he’s here,” Kyrie says, whistling. “Wow. Dude.”

“I know, I know,” Donghyuck says. “It’s fucked.” 

“It’s super fucked,” Kyrie agrees, patting him on the back sympathetically. “But hey, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to get the upper hand on him! Your groups compete against each other all the time—in capture the flag, too. He may have scored one on you by showing up last-minute, but you can kick his ass in all the games.” 

Donghyuck thinks about this for only half a second before he decides it’s a fantastic idea. “That actually…doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Kyrie says, enthusiastic. “Rivalry! Revenge! Good ol’ competition! Three of my favorite things. I can’t wait.” 

“Glad I can amuse,” Donghyuck says dryly, and Kyrie laughs, patting him on the back again. 

“Is he any good at sports?” 

“Not…not really,” Donghyuck says, thinking about Jaemin’s lack of hand-eye coordination. “but he likes to win. And he’s sneaky in ways you don’t expect. And he’s fast, which is gonna make him killer at capture the flag.” 

Kyrie grins. “Even more reason to beat him, then.” 

“He’s definitely come to kick my ass,” Donghyuck says, looking back at the dining hall. His stomach does a weird unpleasant twisty thing, and the flood of memories threaten to come rushing forward. 

Kyrie gives him a cheerful grin. “Then you’ll just have to kick his first.” 

The next couple hours are absolute mayhem, and not quite in the best way. There is a lot of crying, lots of oversized luggage, and general confusion as campers try to find their counselors, and vice versa. Donghyuck’s campers come to him one-by-one, lugging roller bags or duffles packed with too much stuff, sleeping bags hastily tied to the tops. Haley is tall for her age, her hair so sun-bleached it’s nearly white. Jack is scrawny, dark-haired and wearing a Transformers t-shirt, and has no trouble opening up to Donghyuck in the slightest, immediately launching into a complicated explanation about Pokemon. Nia is the shy one, her mom fussing over her until the last possible second, running through a convoluted list of rules that make even Donghyuck’s head spin. Last but not least is Caleb, who Donghyuck can tell is going to be trouble just based on the way he’s flicking his hair out of his face. Nia timidly mentions something about Magic Tree House and Caleb says, very loudly, that reading is lame.

“Dude, you can’t do that,” Donghyuck tells him. 

“Why not?” Caleb asks indignantly as Nia turns red and shrinks behind her bangs. 

“Because ‘lame’ isn’t a nice word,” Donghyuck says, picking up Jack’s duffle bag for him. “And you should express your opinion and be nice.” 

The rest of them wheel their bags down the dirt path towards the cabins, Aspen and Oak. The showerhouse and bathroom sit right between the two, on the north end. The dining hall is the most central building, and it’s where all the offices are, too. 

“If you ever get lost, or separated from the group, that’s where you should go,” Donghyuck tells his campers. “The big hill you see over there is Pineridge Hill. That’s where we’ll play capture the flag at the end of the week. You can play soccer or volleyball over there, too.” The trees that rise up behind it is where they’ll do their overnight camping trip in tents, a PSC tradition. He points in the opposite direction. “That’s where the archery and the Clubhouse are.” 

“Like a treehouse?” Haley asks, lighting up. 

“No, it’s on the ground,” Donghyuck tells her, and her face falls. “But there’s some trees you can climb by the lake, if you’d like.” That brings the smile back to her face, and she hurries over to a girl from Iyana’s group to tell her that. 

Nia taps Donghyuck on the elbow, and he turns to look down at her, her brown eyes peeking out from underneath her long bangs. “I don’t like swimming,” she says very quietly. 

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck tells her. “The Clubhouse has lots of art supplies. And hammocks you can read in, if you’d like.” 

“Will you be there?” she asks, still quiet. “The other ones are so noisy.” 

“The other…who?” Donghyuck asks. “The kids?” 

Nia shakes her head and points at Kyrie, who’s already using her counselor voice to direct girls to the Oak cabin and boys to Aspen. 

“Kyrie?” Donghyuck asks, amused. “Kyrie’s noisy?” 

Nia nods very seriously. 

Donghyuck has to bite back laughter, and he pats Nia’s shoulder. “She’ll be quiet, don’t worry,” Donghyuck says. “I can also tell her to maybe lower her voice. It’s a lot for the first day. You guys haven’t even picked bunks yet.” 

“We get to pick our bunks?” Jack yelps, rocketing forward to the front of the group, the screen door to Aspen banging against the wall as he swings it open. A horde of boys follow him, screaming about top bunks and being close to the window. 

“Jesus Christ,” Renjun says, rubbing his forehead. “My kids are pieces of work. All four of them are friends, but only one of them is a boy, and two of the girls have a crush on him. The third one says she’s a lesbian, but I’m not sure if she’s actually a lesbian or if she—” 

“Oh my god, you’ve got the sixth graders,” Donghyuck says, laughing as Renjun makes a pained noise. “Good luck. I had sixth graders last week and it was intense.” 

Renjun eyes Caleb, who’s showing off a temporary tattoo he’s got on his stomach. “I mean, your kids don’t look easy either.” 

“They have strong personalities,” Donghyuck agrees, watching Sonia gently coax Nia into the girls’ cabin. “I hope this week goes okay.” 

“I was told that you and Jaemin are rivals and will be trying to decimate each other,” Renjun says, “and I just want to warn you that if you guys fuck each other up again, I will never, ever, ever—” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Donghyuck says. “No worries, though. It’s just mostly-friendly competition. Just me and him. No feelings. Just winning. It’s over between us, remember?” 

Renjun gives him an exasperated look. “You’re as bad as him.” 

You talked to him? Donghyuck almost asks, but the expression on Renjun’s face says that’s exactly what he wants Donghyuck to say, so he catches himself at the last second. 

“Not falling for that bait,” Donghyuck announces, marching away. “Not falling for it.” 

“He said the same thing, by the way!” Renjun shouts after him, and Donghyuck can hear the amusement in his voice. “And for the record, I believe neither of you!” 

Just me and him is complete bullshit, of course, because the first thing Donghyuck does the next morning—day one of Pineridge Summer Camp—is recruit his kids to his mission.

“We’re gonna be paired up with group three for a lot of the activities, and stuff,” Donghyuck explains. “We’ll play against them in capture the flag, too.” 

“I don’t like capture the flag,” Nia says, quiet as always. 

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck tells her. 

“Who doesn’t like capture the flag?” Caleb asks, mouth full of bacon. “That’s lame.” 

“Caleb, what did I literally just say about the word lame,” Donghyuck tells him, raising an eyebrow. Caleb rolls his eyes into his breakfast but mumbles out a quick sorry in Nia’s direction. 

“Anyways,” Donghyuck says, “I heard a rumor going around the camp last night. People were saying that Jaemin’s group—group three—was way better than our group. That he was gonna win every single game. Now, I can tell just by looking at you guys that we’re the better group. I just know it.” He leans in conspiratorially, and his campers lean in with him, absolutely into it. “We just have to prove it.” 

“How?” Haley asks, frowning. 

“Pranks?” Jack asks. “Trivia?” 

“Dude, no,” Caleb says. “Soccer.” 

“All of those,” Donghyuck says. “We just gotta win as much as possible. But that means we have to work together, and—” he shoots a look in Caleb’s direction, “be nice to each other. If there’s a problem, we gotta talk it out. Because we’re a team now, and in order to prove we’re the best team, we all have to get along.” 

“That’s easy,” Haley says proudly. “I already know everybody’s name in our group.” She points at each of them. “Caleb-Jack-Nia-Donghyuck.” 

“Is staff your nickname?” Jack asks, pointing at Donghyuck. “Is that why it’s on your shirt?” 

“No, staff just means I work here,” Donghyuck replies. “I don’t really have any nicknames. Besides, like, Hyuck. You can call me that, if you want.” 

“What about…goose,” Haley says. “Because you look like a goose.” 

“What?” Donghyuck asks, failing to understand entirely. But it must be extra-funny elementary school humor, because all four of his kids crack up, even Nia, clutching their chests and kicking their feet. 

“He totally does!” Jack agrees, and Donghyuck sighs, resigned to it. “Can we call you Goose?” 

“Mr. Donghyuck Goose,” Haley says, and she and Jack crack up again. 

Oh my god, Donghyuck thinks, taking another sip of coffee. But he doesn’t mind being the butt end of the joke—even if he doesn’t get it—if it means his kids will start forming friendships. He’s had a group before that didn’t get along, even after ten days, and it was brutal. He’s not too worried about these four, though—Haley and Caleb are talking about soccer, already, and Nia lifts up a couple of Jack’s well-loved Pokemon cards, sounding out their names tentatively. 

The rest of the morning, blissfully, is Jaemin-free. In fact, he rarely crosses Donghyuck’s mind during the nature lesson and team-building games they do before lunch, before they meet again in the dining hall to make sandwiches. Jack already bears two scrapes with pride, and Caleb will not shut up about soccer in the afternoon, which Donghyuck has already told him will happen at three. 

His little bubble is burst after lunch, though, when he finds Jaemin and his campers waiting for him in the front of the dining hall. Like him, Jaemin’s got two boys and two girls. They’re introduced as Soobin, Ian, Citra and Eliana. The kids eye each other speculatively, and Jaemin and Donghyuck glare at one another. Donghyuck can tell Jaemin had a similar conversation with his kids about winning. 

“We’re headed to the Clubhouse to learn about birds,” Jaemin says cheerfully, clapping his hands together. “Who wants to lead the way?” 

“I do!” Ian says, his hand shooting up. 

“Me too!” Caleb shouts at the same time. “Race you!” 

“Oh my god,” Donghyuck says, and Ian and Caleb take off up the dirt path towards the clubhouse. Haley and Soobin follow shortly after, with Eliana hot on their heels. 

“Come on, Nia, we gotta catch up!” Jack says, urging her forward and into a jog. 

“I prefer to walk,” Citra says huffily. “They’re acting very silly.” 

Jaemin stifles a laugh, and Donghyuck turns to him, biting back a laugh of his own. 

“She’s been like this the entire time,” Jaemin whispers. “She’s mad because her older sister is in Renjun’s group. She feels like she’s been put with the babies.” 

“No way,” Donghyuck says, and they giggle conspiratorially for a second before Donghyuck realizes they’re enemies, technically. 

“I didn’t want to be with you,” he says, and Jaemin’s eyes narrow.

“When?” Jaemin asks, because he’s a shithead. “Then, or now? Because back then you seemed—” 

“Okay, groups three and four!” Donghyuck announces quickly before Jaemin can finish his sentence. “If you’ll follow me around to the back, we’re gonna have a quick lesson on binoculars!” 

Jaemin gives him a knowing look, and Donghyuck focuses on not going red as he unlocks the storage cabinet inside the Clubhouse. After the quick lesson, so begins the most intense birdwatching session he’s ever had—there are three types of sabotage that occur, one case of cheating, and so much running around that he needs to lie down by the end of it. Jaemin flirts with him and Donghyuck flirts back, but this time, it’s aimed to distract and to spite. 

All the kids are in immensely good spirits by the end of it though—especially Donghyuck’s group, who spotted the most types of birds out of all of the two, even after Jaemin’s group tried to cheat. 

“Cheating, really? Glad we didn’t date, then,” Donghyuck says. “Game night would’ve been a disaster.” 

“Yeah, especially with your giant ego in the way,” Jaemin replies, but he’s smiling, just a bit. Donghyuck hates it. “You’re a sore loser.” 

“I’m not even a loser,” Donghyuck points out smugly. “You are. I’m one for one, right now.” 

Jaemin doesn’t have a response, so he just offers a smile that promises a great amount of pain for Donghyuck and vanishes into the dining hall with his kids. Donghyuck gives himself a point of that one, satisfied. Knocking Jaemin off-balance is hard to do, since he’s an incorrigible flirt seemingly immune to every sort of embarrassment, capable of turning a jibe into a compliment without blinking. People that knew him called him a nearly-unstoppable force. Chaos barely fettered, etc., etc. 

Donghyuck, though, is a nearly-immovable object. Persistent. Stubborn. Willing to shoulder through pretty much anything. Brave to a fault. Reckless. (Renjun calls it impressive stupidity, but Donghyuck likes reckless much better. It’s hard to find people that want to kiss stupid. But people who will kiss reckless? Different story). 

He’d found a way then, and he’ll find a way now. Jaemin Na is going down by the end of the ten days, and Donghyuck will finally be over him. 

Everything after that is a competition between the two of them. Volleyball is a battle of dexterity that Donghyuck wins thanks to Haley’s athleticism, Caleb’s aggression, and Jack’s constant willingness to dive face-first into the sand. Nia stands near him and goes, “that’s out,” when Jaemin’s serves come soaring over the net, much to the other team’s displeasure. Competitive crafts are entertaining, to say the least, so Donghyuck doesn’t mind too much when Jaemin churns out an astonishing number of perfectly-made friendship bracelets that make pretty much every camper foam at the mouth. There’s competitive dishwashing. Competitive who-can-get-their-kids-to-breakfast-first. They’re competing even when they’re on the same side.

It’s a constant source of amusement for anyone older than fifteen. Kyrie is moved to tears when she watches their groups try to outdo each other in a bellyflop competition, launching off the dock and into the lake so many times that Ian’s belly turns bright red. Iyana bursts out laughing every time she watches them race from the dining hall to the cabins, screaming and laughing and shoving. Jaemin and Donghyuck argue without heat, tease without poison, and Donghyuck tries to convince himself that he’s not enjoying it. 

“You guys literally have such good chemistry,” Kyrie says after campfire sing-a-long. Iyana, Jaemin and Renjun have taken the campers back to the cabins for bedtime, and Donghyuck, Kyrie and Sonia have stayed behind to clean up the mess from dessert, which had been brownies. They’d played a massive game of all-group freeze tag, followed by a truly rousing sing-a-long, featuring improvised lyrics from the boys in Iyana’s group, ranging from silly to mildly disturbing. 

“Who?” Donghyuck asks, even though he knows exactly what she’s talking about. 

“Oh, wait, is this Jaemin and Donghyuck?” Sonia asks, inching closer and joining the conversation. “Did you guys hook up?” 

“We didn’t!” Donghyuck protests, and then realizes that’s not exactly true. Sonia grins. 

“Oh, you totally did,” she says. “Where? Behind the pavilion?” 

“Wait, I thought you guys were broken up?” Kyrie asks, looking between Sonia and Donghyuck, frowning. “Weren’t you?” 

“Yes—I mean, no,” Donghyuck says desperately. “We weren’t ever dating. And we didn’t hook up. I’ve just been trying to one-up him and prove that not only am I over him, but I’m better than him as well.” 

“Renjun told me you were in love with him, though,” Sonia says, crossing her arms.

“Fucking Renjun,” Donghyuck groans, burying his head in his hands. “It’s a long story.” 

“Is it? It didn’t sound very complicated.” 

“It is complicated,” Donghyuck protests. “It was a massive fight.” 

Kyrie and Sonia exchange a look. “Yeah,” Sonia says slowly, “and? Omar and I used to fight all the time.” 

“And now you guys are broken up,” Donghyuck points out. 

Sonia rolls her eyes. “Not because we fought, dumbass. Because our paths were splitting, and neither one of us could make it work. And then he kissed that other girl,” she adds. “That, too. But mostly the first thing.” 

“He got mono from it, so serves him right,” Donghyuck says, and Sonia laughs. He ties the garbage bag tight and hauls it out of the trash can—they have to do this every night or the raccoons will get into it and wreak havoc—and together, the three of them head back towards the cabins. 

“So?” Kyrie prompts after a couple seconds. “What really happened?” 

“We got into a huge fight,” Donghyuck says with a sigh. “And instead of confessing, I...blew up at him. He didn’t…take it very well, obviously. And I didn’t take that very well. And now…we’re enemies.” 

Kyrie and Sonia exchange another look. Girls do that a lot, he’s noticed, and generally, it’s when they know something he doesn’t. Something that they’re usually not quite willing to share with him but will definitely talk about it behind his back and probably figure the whole thing out in the process. 

Not that there’s anything to figure out, per se. It hadn’t been a great confession, true—but he can still remember the look on Jaemin’s face, the frown that cut straight into the flesh of his heart. What? Us? he’d asked, dubious. What are you saying?

Nothing, Donghyuck had responded. It doesn’t matter. 

Fine, then, Jaemin had said, crossing his arms. Don’t tell me. 

It had spiralled from there. Jaemin had spent the entire argument sidestepping, and Donghyuck had been ready to knock him flat. Then they’d said their fuck yous and that had been the end of it. 

Except now, of course, they’re here, and it’s really not the end because there are still seven more days until next Saturday morning, when they can all go home and forget this ever happened. 

“Doesn’t seem too bad to me,” Kyrie says, shrugging. “Would you ever wanna patch things up with him, D? You guys get along really well.” 

“No we don’t,” Donghyuck argues. “We’re rivals. I’m out to beat him. It was your idea, remember?” 

“You can kick his ass and still talk to him,” Kyrie says. 

“You don’t even look like enemies, or whatever ridiculous bullshit,” Sonia adds. They stop by the dining hall to drop off the trash. 

“Oh yeah? Then what do we look like?” 

Sonia purses her lips, and Donghyuck can tell she’s trying not to smile. “You look like you’re having fun,” she says. 

Donghyuck stops in his tracks, halfway up the path to the cabins. Kyrie laughs at him and slaps him on the back. “Fun?” 

“Fun,” Sonia confirms. “I know. It’s disgusting, awful, fake news, big load of horseshit. You broke up—sort of. How can you be having fun?” 

“Don’t ask me,” Donghyuck says, panicked. That gets another laugh out of Kyrie, and in the low, flickering beam from the light on the cabin porch, he can see that Sonia is smiling as well. 

“Hey, Hyuck!” Jaemin calls from the porch, leaning over the railing. Donghyuck can just see his face from here, and the bandana that holds his hair off his forehead. “I got your kids and mine into bed before you got back.” 

“Thank you,” Donghyuck calls back, genuinely grateful. Nia’s been having a hard time sleeping recently, the homesickness catching up during the night. Then he remembers that they made a bet to see who could do their task fastest. “I mean, that’s not very impressive. There was a lot of trash at that campsite.” 

“Or I really am good at this and you don’t want to admit it,” Jaemin teases. “Either way, it’s a point for me.” 

“What, and you’d rather I rush and let the raccoons invade the camp?” Donghyuck scoffs. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jaemin says, holding up his hands defensively. “I didn’t know it was such an important job.” 

“It is, thank you very much. And you probably rushed your job. I bet if I go in, it’ll be chaos in every room.” 

“I didn’t rush,” Jaemin defends. “You can go in and see for yourself.” 

“Then why’s your face red?” 

Jaemin claps a hand to his cheek, finally looking ruffled. “It’s not.” 

“It is,” Donghyuck taunts, a little smug. 

“It is not—” 

“Oh my god, I can’t take this,” Sonia mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If you’re gonna be fuckheads, go somewhere else. It’s almost eleven and I am so tired I’m going to die.” 

“Rude,” Jaemin says, but he’s laughing. His face is still a little pink, and Donghyuck takes an unexpected amount of delight in it. He hasn’t lost his touch. Back in the early days of their friendship, before Jaemin had kissed him, it had been easy like this. Back-and-forth, comfortable. Teasing. The shocking sort of feeling you get when you realize someone is thinking exactly what you are. Both of them are natural enablers, much to their friends’ general displeasure, but it had worked so well for them. It had been fun. 

“No wonder she and Renjun get along so well,” Jaemin tells Donghyuck on their way into Aspen. “They’re here to rain on our parade.” 

“I didn’t know we had a parade to rain on, anymore,” Donghyuck says, and Jaemin’s mouth purses, expression slipping. Donghyuck feels a little guilty at that, but he doesn’t want Jaemin to think that they can just laugh and forget about it. No, he’s not letting Jaemin get away with anything. “Sorry. But, y’know, it’s sort of true.” 

“Believe it or not,” Jaemin says, all sugar-sweet sarcasm, “I didn’t really think that dwelling on the spring would do me any good.” 

“I don’t know how you can ignore it,” Donghyuck argues. “We—you—”

 “Don’t look at me like that,” Jaemin interrupts. “Unless you really wanna do this.” 

“How am I looking at you?” Donghyuck challenges, and Jaemin’s cheeks go just the slightest bit pink again, mouth sealing shut. 

Donghyuck crosses his arms, and Jaemin mirrors him. They glare at each other for a long moment, Jaemin tilting his chin up stubbornly as Donghyuck desperately tries to get him to fluster. 

“Fine,” he says. “Be that way.” 

“I will,” Jaemin says, chin still tilted. “I will be that way.” 

Fuck off, he almost says, but that one hits a little too close to home and stings a little too bitterly, so he swallows it down. 

Jaemin hears it anyway, and takes a step back. “Goodnight,” he says, a bit hollowly. The screen door opens and closes behind him with a gentle click, and Donghyuck watches him go. 

The warmth of the night is long gone by the time he finally follows. 

“Today we’re going to learn about ecosystems,” Renjun announces on Sunday evening, when they’re all gathered in the Clubhouse to learn about tonight’s activity. “The prey get eaten by the predators, as you’ve learned, but it’s a little bit more complicated than that!” 

He goes on for a couple minutes to talk about ecosystem balancing and keystone species. Some kids are just starting to fidget when he mentions the magic word: tag. 

“Each group will be given an animal,” Renjun says, “that you’ll have to pretend to be. Most of you will start off as mice, which can be eaten by snakes and by eagles. The snakes can get eaten by the eagles. The eagles can eat everybody.” 

A hand shoots up. “Like, actually eat?” 

“No,” Renjun says, and before the kids can get any ideas, he adds, “do not try to eat any of your friends. If you’re tagged, you’re ‘eaten’, and you have to join the group that tagged you. Make sense?” 

Donghyuck can see him struggling as more hands shoot up, so he clambers to his feet and rescues him. “It’s simple, guys—mice can get tagged by everyone. Snakes can get tagged by eagles. Eagles can’t be tagged. You join the group that gets you.” 

The hands go down, and Renjun shoots him a thankful look. “You want to try to stay as your original species,” Renjun adds. “You’ll be bumped to the front of the dessert line if you do.” 

That gets everyone’s attention, and just like that, Donghyuck can tell it’s game on. 

He joins Renjun at the edge of the sports field, where they’ll be playing. The hill and the edge of the forest are also inbounds. He gestures to Kyrie, who’s also going to be a mouse with them, but Renjun stops him. 

“Actually,” he says, and Donghyuck doesn’t like that knowing, half-smug look on his face, “we made Kyrie a snake last minute and Jaemin a mouse.” 

“You—what?” Donghyuck asks, watching Jaemin lead his group to where they’re standing. “Renjun, you said you’d make him a snake!” 

“This is just the way it turned out to be,” Renjun says innocently, and Donghyuck wants to strangle him. 

“That’s bull—” he starts indignantly. 

“There’s children around,” Renjun reminds him cheerfully, and flits away to check on Sonia’s kids, who are all eagles. Donghyuck fumes for a second, but Haley and Jack go, “Goose! Goose!” and tug on his shirt until he lets it go. He very purposefully avoids eye contact with Jaemin as he and his group make their way over. 

“All right, strategy time,” Donghyuck says, bringing all the campers close. “What are you guys thinking? We have to stay together as a group unless we’re being chased.” 

“I think we hide,” Eliana says. 

“I don’t want to play tag,” Citra complains. “It’s for babies.” 

Caleb bristles immediately. “Is not! Babies can’t run!” 

“Why did we get put with the younger kids?” one of Renjun’s campers whispers to her friend. 

“Be nice,” Jaemin says mildly, and she jerks back guiltily. 

“We’re going to lose if we fight,” Jack points out. “We only have a couple minutes.” 

“We have to work together,” one of Renjun’s campers says. “If we stay close when we’re not being chased, they’ll have to come get us. As soon as the whistle blows, and they can chase us, then we scatter. Try not to follow anyone.” 

“This isn’t gonna be successful without teamwork, though,” his friend adds, crossing her arms and giving the younger kids a look. “Okay?” 

Everyone nods vigorously. Jaemin and Donghyuck exchange a look, and the weight of their argument from last night pushes against Donghyuck’s chest. Jaemin won’t look at him, and Donghyuck can tell the inside of his head is a mess, something that he feels a little bad for. Not that he’s necessarily the cause of it—Jaemin’s head has always been a bit of a disaster—but last night certainly didn’t help. 

“Do you think we’re gonna win?” Jack asks him as they all scramble to their feet, waiting for Renjun to blow the whistle. They’ll get a head start from the rest of the snakes and the eagles. 

“I hope so,” Donghyuck says. “I mean, you just have to try to stay as a mouse. Don’t let anyone eat you!” 

Jack giggles delightedly, and jogs over to join Caleb, Haley and Ian, who are very seriously discussing running formations. 

He turns to Jaemin as everyone gets ready. “Look, Jaemin—” 

“Forget it,” Jaemin says, waving him off. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” Donghyuck argues. “I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking. I was being a headass.” 

Jaemin wheels on him, and Donghyuck is surprised by the hurt on his face. “Yeah, you were. Why is it that we can get along so well for the entire day, but all it takes is one second to ruin it? Why won’t you let us move on?” 

“I didn’t expect you to be here this summer,” Donghyuck sputters. “I thought—I’m trying to get over it, Jaemin. But it’s hard when you’re right in my face every five seconds.” 

“I’m in your face? You’re in mine,” Jaemin replies, accusatory. 

Donghyuck feels a spark of anger in his chest. “Look, I said I’m sorry—” 

“No you didn’t,” Jaemin interrupts. “You just made excuses.” 

Donghyuck takes a sharp breath through his nose. “Would you like for me to apologize?” 

“Why are you asking me what I want?” Jaemin replies, and the look he gives Donghyuck could curdle milk. “You’ll just say whatever makes you feel better.” 

Donghyuck opens his mouth to reply, but Renjun blows the whistle and the kids take off around him, shrieking and shouting. Jaemin breaks into a jog and leaves him standing on the edge of the grass. 

“Hyuck, come on! Come on!” Haley yells, waving at him, and Donghyuck pushes his body into motion, feeling sick to his stomach. They used to get along so well—the one fight that had ended any possibility of something real had also been their first fight. What had happened? 

Maybe you never really knew him, he thinks to himself, following some of his campers into the trees as the eagles launch a full-scale attack on the snakes. Maybe this is how he really is. 

Maybe this is how you really are, too, he adds, and his stomach twists a little more. Petty, argumentative, and unable to take responsibility for the things you said. 

But I’m trying, Donghyuck thinks desperately. I really am. 

Are you? 

He doesn’t have time to dwell on that, though, because a couple kids from Kyrie’s group have found them. 

“Scatter!” Renjun’s campers shout. Nia grabs his hand and they run through the trees. Behind them, Donghyuck can hear a kid trip and start to cry, which forces Kyrie to stop and pick them up. Citra gets tagged, but only because she’s not running. She joins the snakes with a roll of her eyes. 

They regroup on the other side of the hill, watching the quickly-growing group of eagles chase Soobin and Eliana. The campers shout, ever-desperate, to each other, scrambling up the hill and then splitting up down either side, dodging behind trees. Donghyuck stays very far away from Jaemin, dodging Iyana and Sonia. 

At about twenty minutes in, everybody is an eagle save for Caleb, Haley, and Ian. Donghyuck and Jaemin are with them, crouched behind some bushes and discussing strategy. 

“We only have to last five more minutes,” Donghyuck says, checking his phone. “And then we all get to go first for dessert.” 

“We have to do this,” Caleb says, pulling his friends close. “Just think. We get to pick our popsicle flavors.” 

Ian and Haley nod very solemnly. There’s the sound of footsteps in the distance, voices going, I swear they were over here, Becca already checked the other side. 

“Let’s go,” Haley whispers. “Before they get over here.” 

They exit the bushes with far more grace than Donghyuck is capable of, since he’s a foot taller and twenty years old. 

“THERE THEY ARE!” a kid bellows, and there’s a cry of charge! as feet break twigs and crush leaves. 

“And the counselors too! Get them!” another kid yells. Donghyuck finally manages to extricate himself from the bush and jumps to his feet. 

“Jaemin, come on,” Donghyuck says, but Jaemin’s shoelace is hopelessly tangled around a branch. He tugs at it fruitlessly, but there’s only seconds before he’s literally trampled by elementary schoolers. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jaemin assures him, and Donghyuck feels something helpless and guilty rise in his throat. “It’s just tag, Donghyuck. Make sure your kids don’t get hurt.” 

The first eagle appears between the trees, and Donghyuck makes up his mind. “No,” he says, and dives forward, tearing at the bush until the twig finally breaks. Jaemin starts to get to his feet, and Donghyuck grabs him by the hands and hauls him upright, so hard they both stumble. Jaemin’s hand goes to his waist to balance, just for a half second, and the same thing in Donghyuck’s throat tightens, making it hard to breathe. 

“We better run,” Jaemin suggests, a little dryly, and Donghyuck nods. 

They make it out of the trees, their longer legs giving them a little bit of an edge over the kids that chase them. Jaemin has no trouble, because he runs for fun (like a psychopath) and Donghyuck is athletic, dodging and sidestepping hands that reach for him, a little giddy. Haley, Ian and Caleb have made it safely to the other side, and they scream Jaemin and Donghyuck’s names at the tops of their lungs, bouncing up and down behind the line of orange cones. 

Donghyuck slips a little on the wet grass two steps away from the safe zone, and for a dangerous moment, his body tips, ankle straining underneath him. And then there’s a hand around his wrist, warm and familiar, and he slides through the cones at the last second. 

There’s a lot of screaming, a lot of hugging, and more jumping up and down. There are a lot of step-by-step replays, too, descriptions of tree-climbing or epic dodges, and debates on who stayed in their groups for the longest. Jaemin lets go of Donghyuck’s wrist after a little while but stands close to him, their shoulders nearly brushing. 

I haven’t forgiven you, Jaemin’s eyes seem to say over the heads of the campers, the sunset painting him gold and lilac. But if you asked me, I would. 

The issue now is figuring out how to own up to it. 

Luckily, the universe—and shitty friends—decide to help things along. 

It’s Monday afternoon, warm, and Donghyuck is sitting on the dock by the lake, watching Jack and Haley do cannonballs off the end. Ian and Soobin are doing breath-holding contests, which is freaking Jeno out from where he sits at the other end of the dock. 

Jaemin is a couple feet away from Donghyuck, smelling like sunscreen and looking like distraction personified. Donghyuck tries and fails not to stare. He’s glad he’s wearing sunglasses, because at least the kids don’t catch on, even though Jeno and Jaemin do. 

“Stop,” Jeno says. “You’re making me stressed out.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” Donghyuck mumbles, yanking his gaze off the way Jaemin’s back flexes as he leans down to help haul Eliana back onto the dock. He’s wearing a tank top, but that doesn’t help much, since it’s practically see-through anyway, and highlights the cut of Jaemin’s collarbones and the line of his waist rather than hides it. 

Donghyuck is going to lose his mind. 

“Please, Donghyuck, just go talk to him,” Jeno begs. “Stop sitting there and thinking horny thoughts. There are children five feet away.” 

“There are no horny thoughts,” Donghyuck hisses, even as he struggles to dispel the memory of his mouth on Jaemin’s skin, down the taught line of his chest, and lower—

“Stop it,” Jeno repeats, despairing. “This is getting ridiculous. Nobody knows why you fought, or why you keep fighting, and nobody knows why you refuse to make up. You’re clearly still very into each other.” 

“We are not,” Donghyuck says indignantly, though he’s more focused on the we part. He’s definitely still into Jaemin—there’s no point in lying about that—but Jaemin…Jaemin is still into him?

“You have been looking at each other the entire afternoon,” Jeno points out, deadpan, “like you want to bang. It’s actually been really traumatizing.” 

“I do not—he hasn’t—we aren’t—” Donghyuck sputters, but Jeno just gives him a dead-eyed, unsympathetic look. 

“Please do something about it,” Jeno begs, and then stands up and blows his whistle. “Alright, groups two and three! Do your last cannonballs and then head back up to dry off!” 

Donghyuck watches Jaemin herd his kids into their towels and flip-flops, blue-lipped and shivering. He’s painfully attractive, in the way that Donghyuck immediately noticed and then kept noticing, time and time again, lying on top of him on lazy spring afternoons, pressed against him at a concert or a party. The one time he’d woken up next to him, when Jaemin had been asleep—Donghyuck had noticed then, too, even though Jaemin had been exhausted to the point of breaking, strung-out and anxious and threatening to shake apart at the seams. Donghyuck had touched his cheek, and that was when he’d known that he’d come to love Jaemin as ferociously and wholly as the campfire loved the song, or the sky loved the sun—with that same sort of burning brilliance. 

He’s never liked poetry, but he likes Jaemin Na. So the metaphors are okay, just this once. 

Jaemin turns to look at him, like he can hear Donghyuck’s thoughts. He did that a lot then, too, and to see it now nearly breaks Donghyuck’s heart all over again. He takes a half-step forward, and he wants nothing more in this moment than to kiss Jaemin hard and apologize. 

Neither of them move. The moment passes. Donghyuck deflates and turns back to his campers. Haley is holding her broken hair tie out to him, and Donghyuck works on tying it back together as they trek up towards the cabin to change for dinner. Tonight, it’s lasagna, and Donghyuck does his best to focus on the stories and questions that come at him from all angles. There’s some table hopping that goes on around dessert, and then it’s time for announcements regarding the overnight hike they’re all going to be taking tomorrow night. 

There’s a tap on his shoulder just as Iyana describes their two-mile hike into the forest, and the pavilion and campsite that await them in the trees. Everyone gets excited about the tents. 

Donghyuck turns around. It’s Jeno, looking harried. “Can you come down to the lake and help me get the canoes back into the shed?” he asks. “Renjun is supposed to help me, but I don’t know where he went.” 

“He went to the bathroom,” Donghyuck says. “You can wait for him here, if you want.” 

“No, no, it really needs to be done now,” Jeno says urgently, tugging on his arm. Donghyuck gets up reluctantly, annoyed. 

“Jeno, literally, what’s the rush,” he says as Jeno pulls him away from the dining hall and towards the lake. “It’s not like they’re going anywhere. We could easily wait for Renjun, and then it would make it even easier—” 

“Look, no, we’re here now,” Jeno says, gesturing at the lake. But before Donghyuck can get any closer, Jeno spins him by the shoulders so he’s facing the storage shed. “Will you go see if there’s any rope? Maybe we can just tie them to the dock.” 

“Oh my god,” Donghyuck sighs. “Jeno.” 

“Sorry,” Jeno says with a sheepish smile. “I should’ve mentioned that beforehand.” 

“You made it sound like the boats were going to sink if we didn’t do it right now,” Donghyuck grumbles, heading to the storage shed and yanking the door open with a lot of effort. “And now you tell me we can just tie them to the dock?” 

The storage shed is dark, so Donghyuck turns on his phone light, sorting through dusty crates and endless lifejackets for a rope. 

He hears Jeno approach from behind, probably because he’s taking so long. He sneezes. “Jeno, dude, I don’t think there’s any rope in h—Jaemin?” 

“Donghyuck?” Jaemin says, lifting a hand to cover his eyes as Donghyuck lifts his flashlight up. “What are you—” 

He stumbles forward into the shed, and Donghyuck gets a brief glimpse of Renjun’s face—and his grim, determined expression—before the door slams shut. 

“RENJUN,” Donghyuck shouts, slamming his shoulder against the door. It holds. “Holy fuck, Renjun, let us out of here.” 

“No can do!” Jeno replied, muffled through the door. “Not until you talk it out! Only then will the power of love unite you and give you the strength to knock the door down!” 

Donghyuck turns to Jaemin, frustrated, and Donghyuck watches him try to hold back laughter. 

“It’ll be okay,” he says, putting a hand on Donghyuck’s arm. “The door’s not that hard to open.” 

Donghyuck slams his shoulder against the door again. It still doesn’t budge—and now his shoulder is starting to hurt, too. Jaemin raises his eyebrows, like, told you so, and Donghyuck wants to body-slam him. 

“Maybe they locked it,” Jaemin suggests. 

“It doesn’t have a lock,” Donghyuck says. “It’s just really, really stuck. The only way we’re gonna get it out is if we kick it down.” 

“Do not charge at that thing again,” Jaemin says, catching Donghyuck by the wrist. “You’re going to dislocate your shoulder.” 

“If you helped me, I’m sure we could get it,” Donghyuck replies, but lets Jaemin pull him away from the door.

“I’m not going to ram myself against the door,” Jaemin says. 

“Will you help me if I apologize?” 

“Maybe.” 

Donghyuck gives him a narrow-eyed look. “Was this your idea?” 

“If I wanted to sit in a hot, dark storage shed, I would’ve left a way out,” Jaemin says. “No, this was definitely Jeno and Renjun.” 

“They’re—I swear, when we get out, I’m going to—” 

“You’ll be fine,” Jaemin says, putting a hand on Donghyuck’s heaving shoulders. “It’s honestly a little funny.” 

“It’s not! I can’t believe I was tricked!” Donghyuck exclaims, kicking the door. It groans, but still doesn’t budge. “I can’t believe I fell for it!” 

In the distance, they hear the curfew bell toll. It’s nine o’clock. They listen to it ring out over the camp, and a strange quiet falls over them. Donghyuck takes a deep breath. Jaemin crosses his arms, and Donghyuck knows he’s waiting for Donghyuck to say something.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says. “For last night. I really don’t want to ruin the summer.” 

Jaemin fidgets with one of the many friendship bracelets on his wrist. “Me neither. It’s okay. I was a bit of a jerk too.” There’s something like guilt that crosses his face. 

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck echoes. “I just—I don’t wanna fight with you anymore.” 

Jaemin’s face is hard to read in the dim light, but he doesn’t seem mad anymore. Donghyuck looses a small breath, feeling cautiously relieved. Some of the uncomfortable tension between them clears as they stand quietly.

“Try kicking the door again,” Jaemin suggests, after a minute. “Right beneath the door handle.” 

“What, you’re not gonna help?” Donghyuck says, clearing his throat. He’s glad Jaemin’s not trying to draw it out—neither of them are lingerers, for better or for worse. It does feel easier now, though, which is...nice. Not that he’d ever say that aloud. 

Jaemin shrugs, and the last of the moment passes. “I mean, you’re the one who wants to break down the door.” 

“There’s not any other way to get out,” Donghyuck says. “We have to break down the door.” 

Jaemin points to the small window at the far end of the shed, and Donghyuck really wants to punch him. “You are single-handedly the most unhelpful motherfucker I think I’ve ever met—” 

“That doesn’t sound like thank you,” Jaemin teases, and Donghyuck desperately tries (and fails) to fight the smile off his face. He cranks the window open and boosts himself up, shimmying through and dropping to the ground on the other side. The air is sweet and refreshingly un-dusty, and he can see much more by the light of the moon. The lake laps quietly the edge of the dock right behind him, and an owl hoots in one of the trees by the opposite shore. 

Jaemin’s head and shoulders appear in the window, faded pink hair falling over his forehead. 

“Catch me,” he says softly, and tumbles down. Donghyuck catches him, but only barely—first there’s the solid warmth of Jaemin’s body against his, and then his foot slips and they both tip backwards into the lake. 

The cold is like a shock to his system, but they’re both laughing when they come up for air. The moonlight turns the water on Jaemin’s face to quicksilver, his mouth pink. His teeth flash once, twice, and Donghyuck’s breath is strangely stuck in his chest. They’re treading water and Jaemin is saying something about weather, about coincidences, chances, and Donghyuck is going to choke on the sound of his laughter. 

There’s a voice in the distance, calling, “Hey, is anybody down there?” 

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Donghyuck blurts, unfreezing. “Someone’s coming.” 

“Under the dock,” Jaemin whispers, pushing Donghyuck forward. He ducks under the water, darkness flooding his senses, before he comes up under the dock. He can stand here, just barely, his toes scraping the muddy bottom of the lake. He’s lost his flip flops somewhere, but he can’t be bothered to even think about shoes when Jaemin breaks the surface next to him, and they have to huddle close to stifle their laughter. 

“Is anybody there?” 

Jaehyun, Jaemin mouths at him, grinning. Donghyuck watches his top lip pull up over his teeth and thinks about kissing him. 

“It’s past curfew,” Jaehyun says. There are footsteps over their heads, and Jaemin’s hand finds its way to Donghyuck’s waist, his palm so warm Donghyuck’s mind momentarily dissolves into static. His shirt floats up around his chest and shoulders, and Donghyuck can see the pale expanse of his chest and stomach in the corner of his eye. 

Jaemin’s knee brushes his, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep his breath in as Jaehyun stands at the edge of the dock, probably surveying the lake for any curfew-breakers. Jaemin’s body is shaking with silent laughter, and every point of contact between them burns. Donghyuck tries not to look at the wet line of Jaemin’s collarbone or shoulders. 

“Okay,” Jaehyun says. “I must’ve just imagined it. God, I keep telling Johnny to get lights set up here.” 

Another moment that seems to stretch on for forever. Donghyuck is going to lose his mind. Jaemin clings a little closer, and Donghyuck’s fingertips graze the slow-moving curve of his ribs. 

Jaemin moves his dark eyes to Donghyuck’s face as Jaehyun’s footsteps recede back up the path towards the cabins, but Donghyuck still can’t breathe out. 

“That was close,” Jaemin says.

Donghyuck nods, and Jaemin leans forward in slow motion, eyelashes flickering. 

He kisses Donghyuck just once—brief, lips slightly parted, his breath ghosting across Donghyuck’s mouth when he leans back. 

“I forgive you,” he says, and before Donghyuck can do anything stupid—like pull him closer, or kiss him back—he ducks under the dock, leaving Donghyuck alone. 

Donghyuck touches his mouth. It’s tingling slightly. 

“What,” he says aloud, “the fuck was that.” 

“So I came to the stunning conclusion that I would like to kiss him again,” Donghyuck tells Renjun and Jeno the next afternoon, preparing to head up into the forest for their overnight. “Your little plan failed, by the way. The power of love didn’t help us break through the door.” 

“You didn’t actually talk?” Jeno says, despairing. “Dude.” 

“And you realized this…under the dock,” Renjun says. 

Donghyuck nods. 

“After he kissed you.” 

Donghyuck nods again. “That’s what really made me think. What if I do still like him?” 

“What if I do still like him,” Renjun repeats, exasperated. “Please tell me you’re not actually asking me that.”

Donghyuck stares at him. “Why are you being mean? Why aren’t you helping?” He turns to Jeno, who gives him a helpless, guilty shrug. “Excuse me? Do you guys know something I don’t?” 

“I am not getting in the middle of this,” Jeno says, holding his hands up. “Jaemin is very hot—don’t glare at me like that, dude, not nice—and also funny, so it makes sense if you, uh, want to kiss him again. Objectively speaking.”

“That is not objective in the slightest,” Donghyuck hisses, pointing at him. “You’re a—” 

“There are children literally five feet away,” Renjun points out, elbowing Donghyuck very hard in the side. “Anyways, you were talking about kissing him?” 

“If you’re trying to sidetrack me,” Donghyuck says, and immediately forgets what he’s saying mid-sentence as Jaemin, sitting across from the clearing and braiding Eliana’s hair, gets to his feet and stretches. The long lines of his body pull taught, thighs and biceps flexing. He looks halfway over his shoulder at Donghyuck, his smile slightly impish, and Donghyuck feels something in his mind go slightly unhinged. 

“And there go the horny thoughts,” Jeno says with a dramatic sigh. Donghyuck yanks his gaze off of Jaemin’s ass so he can toss a handful of dirt in Jeno’s direction. 

“There are no horny thoughts,” he says, scowling. Jeno dodges the dirt and aims a stick at him, until Renjun puts a hand up and reminds them that they’re setting a terrible example for the eight-year-olds. 

“Donghyuck, please, for the love of God, figure your shit out,” Renjun says. “If you like him, just tell him.” 

“No,” Donghyuck says immediately, going cold at the thought. “I’d rather die. I’d rather fistfight Sonia. I’d rather walk in on Johnny and Jaehyun—” 

“Okay, okay, point taken,” Renjun says, kicking him. “But he’s not a mindreader, Hyuck. You have to tell him stuff if you want anything to happen.” 

“I know that,” Donghyuck replies. “I just—I don’t know if I want something to happen.” 

“I get it,” Renjun says, “but please, please do something. You’re driving everyone crazy.” 

Donghyuck looks over at Jaemin again, who’s moved on to another girl’s hair. Around them, camp staff double-check their gear piles. It’ll only be one night, and the cook is coming with them, but with eight-year-olds, one really can never be too safe. 

“Maybe,” Donghyuck says evasively. “If the universe wants it to be so.” 

Over Donghyuck’s head, Jeno and Renjun exchange a look. 

“Trust me,” Renjun says, crossing his arms and leaning back. “It’s sick of you too.” 

The hike is short—only a couple miles to the campground, which has a bathroom and a cooking pavilion. The only supplies the kids need to carry is their pajamas and their toothbrushes—the tents, the cooking supplies, and everything else is driven up there by the staff in front of them. 

It’s a really nice day, too—warm with the sun, but cool enough that Donghyuck doesn’t overheat in his long sleeves. All the campers in his group have long-befriended each other, having gone through the obligatory fighting stage before realizing they all quite like each other. Even Nia has come out of her shell, thanks to Caleb, surprisingly. They point to birds and beehives, squirrels that scamper up trees and tiny waterfalls that trickle between rocks from the creeks higher up. Jaemin’s group is a little slower, so he ends up behind Donghyuck. It only makes him a little anxious, because he hasn’t yet had a chance to confront last night. 

His friends’ advice rings in his head: just tell him. 

Tell him what, though? Sike, spring was actually a joke and I still want to be with you? Or maybe, Can we pretend the fight didn’t happen and pick up where we left off? 

Donghyuck rolls that around in his head for a couple minutes as they stop for a quick snack break, during which his kids inhale about five pounds of Goldfish and apple sauce. 

“I wonder if we’ll get to swim in the lake,” Caleb says. 

“I heard from Sasha that there’s a rope swing,” Haley adds. 

“It’s gonna be freezing,” Nia complains. “I don’t wanna swim.” 

“Then don’t,” Caleb replies, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “But if there’s a rope swing, I’m totally going.” 

Haley points at where Jeno stands, checking in with Iyana. “They brought the lifeguard, so there must be swimming.” She turns to Donghyuck. “Goose, is there swimming?” 

“There’s swimming,” Donghyuck confirms, and his campers burst into cheers. Haley shakes Jack by the shoulders. 

They proceed to chant rope swing, rope swing for the next ten minutes of the hike, taking turns running ahead to gauge the distance to the campsite. As soon as it’s close enough, they take off, running and catching up to Iyana’s group, who are already sprinting to the bathrooms to get changed. 

Jaemin trudges up behind him, Ian and Citra running past him so they can change, too. 

“Looks like you’re already on duty,” Jaemin tells Jeno, who looks distraught as he jogs after them.  

“Do you have all your kids here?” Iyana asks, walking up to them with the attendance clipboard. 

Donghyuck points at the three by the bathroom, and then at Nia, who is peering into a rotting log with one of the boys from Renjun’s group. 

“One, two, three, f—wait a second,” Jaemin says, and Donghyuck turns at the change in his tone. “Where’s—where’s Soobin?” 

“Soobin?” Donghyuck asks, pivoting on his foot and scanning the campers, looking for Soobin’s black hair and the yellow t-shirt he’d been wearing this morning. “Have you guys seen him?” he asks his group as they trickle back from the bathroom, wearing their swimsuits. 

“Who?” asks Caleb, who hasn’t been paying attention, craning his neck, looking for the lake. 

“No,” Nia says, quiet. “The last time I saw him was snack break.” 

“That was fifteen minutes ago,” Jaemin says, breathless and pale. “Hyuck, he could be—” 

“We’ll go look for him right now,” Donghyuck interrupts firmly. “Take a deep breath.” 

Jaemin does, but his eyes are wild and faraway. Donghyuck bends down. “Go hang out with Renjun for a bit,” he tells his and Jaemin’s groups. “We’ll be back.” 

“Where are you going?” Haley asks. “Will you come back?” 

“Yep,” Donghyuck says. “It’ll take us twenty minutes, tops.” 

After a hasty explanation to Kyrie and Johnny, the two of them head back down the trail. 

“I can’t believe I lost a camper,” Jaemin mumbles, wincing and smacking himself on the forehead. “I knew I should’ve counted earlier, when we were packing up—” 

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck says, and Jaemin stops, his eyes glassy. “We’re going to find him.” 

Jaemin takes a thin, shaky breath. “I—” 

Donghyuck grabs his hand, and Jaemin’s face clears a little. 

“Soobin!” Donghyuck calls, squeezing Jaemin’s hand. 

Jaemin takes another breath. “Soobin!” 

“Here!” a faint voice calls back, and Jaemin lets go of Donghyuck so he can jog towards the direction of the voice. 

“Where?” Donghyuck calls, and Soobin shouts again. Together, they make their way off the path. Soobin comes into sight a second later, his face streaked with tears and his knee bleeding. He starts crying when he sees the two of them, babbling about falling down and getting left behind and being scared. 

“You did the exact right thing, Soobin,” Donghyuck says, sitting down next to him. Jaemin, who looks like he’s about to pass out with relief, sits down on Soobin’s other side. “And look, we came back for you. We’ll always come back. We knew instantly that we were missing someone. Jaemin sprinted down here to come get you.” 

“R-really?” Soobin stutters, a fresh wave of tears cascading down his face. “Sorry I’m c-crying so much.” 

“It’s okay to cry,” Donghyuck says. “I’m sure it was super scary. But you’re okay now, right? We’ll get you up to camp and fix that knee right up, and then you can swim if you want or just hang out until dinner.” 

“Just h-hang out,” Soobin says, wiping his face. “That was pretty scary.” 

“Do you want a hug?” Jaemin asks, and Soobin nods. Jaemin wraps an arm around Soobin’s shoulders, who gets snot and tears all down the front of Jaemin’s shirt. 

Over the top of Soobin’s head, Jaemin gives Donghyuck a relieved, slightly apologetic smile. He’d been just as shaken up as Soobin. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin says, later, once Soobin has had something to eat and has been reunited with his friends. “For freaking out on you.” 

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Donghyuck says, putting an arm around his shoulders without thinking and pulling him close, something he’d gotten comfortable doing…before. 

Their cheeks brush, and they jump apart at the contact. Jaemin’s gone a little pink in the face, and Donghyuck resists the urge to wipe his hands off on his pants, like that’ll somehow help. 

“Hey, you two,” Iyana calls, and Donghyuck trips over his feet in his hurry to get over to her. She gives him an amused look and hands him a bundle of tent poles and nylon. “This is your tent. You and Jaemin have to set it up—” 

“What? We have to share?” Donghyuck yelps, voice cracking. His mind immediately presents the memory of the lake, Jaemin’s mouth on his, his hands ghosting over Donghyuck’s waist. 

NOT HELPFUL, he scolds himself. 

“It’s just how the assignments worked out,” Iyana says, and Donghyuck longs to call bullshit on that. He knows they’re working against him. First the nonsense with the tag, and then trapping them in the storage shed—and now this. 

“I am going to do something incredibly obnoxious and violent to all of you,” Donghyuck says, glaring at her. Iyana just laughs. “I’m not kidding. You’re making my life hell. You know how I feel about—” 

“Yeah, we do,” Iyana says, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth and snorting. “That’s why we’re doing this. So you can realize it too.” 

“There’s literally nothing to—” 

“Nothing to what?” Jaemin asks, directly behind him. Donghyuck startles and drops the bag of tent stakes on his foot. 

“Nothing to be concerned about,” he says with as much grace he can muster, sliding away from Iyana before she can blow his cover. “We have to share a tent.” 

“You’re funny,” Jaemin says, smiling. His eyes curve, and Donghyuck looks at the neat row of his top teeth and wants to punch something. Or kiss him. 

Both. Definitely both. Especially when Jaemin looks at him like he wants to be kissed. 

“It’s not a joke,” Donghyuck says, hefting the tent in his arms. “We really do have to share a tent.” 

“Oh,” Jaemin says. He gives Donghyuck a sidelong glance as he dumps the tent onto the ground and starts clearing out rocks and sticks. “Are you—is that okay with you?” 

Donghyuck feels like he’s going to set on fire. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he says with forced nonchalance. “Is it okay with you?” 

“It’s okay with me,” Jaemin says, raising his eyebrows. “I just thought you were gonna bring up the spring again.” 

“When I said I wanted to be done with that,” Donghyuck replies, lifting his chin and meeting Jaemin’s eyes, “I meant it.” 

Jaemin opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say anything, he’s summoned to the cooking pavilion by Johnny. 

“Later,” Jaemin promises, touching Donghyuck’s arm. “After. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Donghyuck agrees, and watches Jaemin go with a sort of desperate fondness that threatens to choke him. 

He has to set up the tent by himself, though, which is not very fun. He gets his knots confused, has to move the stakes a couple times because he keeps hitting roots, and puts the rain fly on backwards two times before he gives up entirely on it. The times before this, he’d shared a tent with Renjun, who’d tricked Kyrie into setting theirs up. 

By the time he gets it all figured out, it’s dinnertime, and he has to help campers from all groups find their socks and shoes, picking up towels and inside-out swimsuits and hanging them on the hooks outside of the bathroom to dry. Haley’s lips are blue, and Jack’s teeth chatter so hard he can barely talk, but everyone is smiling and laughing, buzzing with energy. 

Dinner is spaghetti and meatballs, with the cook’s special garlic bread. Everyone has to eat salad before they’re allowed seconds, and Donghyuck watches in amusement as Caleb drenches his lettuce in ranch and crams it into his mouth. 

Night falls, and with it, a slight chill, thanks to the wind. Hoodies emerge just in time for a game of ghost in the graveyard, which takes half of the group and counselors a little ways into the forest with a couple headlamps.

“I’ve never understood this game,” Iyana tells him as the two of them plus Sonia trek away from the buzzing lights of the dining pavilion. “Is it hide-and-seek, or tag?” 

“Both,” Sonia says. “Honestly, it’s hilarious. Kids get screaming so easily, and then they trip.” 

“Sonia, that’s not very nice,” Iyana says. “I always feel so bad when they fall.” 

Sonia doesn’t look very sympathetic. “I don’t understand why they do it so often. Like, just, don’t trip? I don’t know.” 

“You still haven’t explained the game, though,” Iyana points out. “Who finds who?” 

“There’s one person hiding, and the rest try to find them. If the hider is found, that’s when it’s like tag. If the hider tags someone, they’re the next ghost, and they have to hide, etcetera.” Donghyuck lifts the headlights in his hand. “These make it easier for everyone involved.”

“Oh,” Iyana says. “That’s it?” 

“That’s it,” Donghyuck confirms.

“I have no idea why they’re obsessed with it,” Sonia observes, watching the campers pick who will be the first hider. Ian gets selected, and the rest of them grab headlights from Donghyuck. “They ask for it every night.” 

“It’s scary,” Donghyuck guesses. “And you get to run in the dark. Two very appealing things.” 

“Not for me,” Iyana says, shuddering. “I am not into the scary or the dark, thank you very much.” 

They walk back a little later under the light of the half moon to pass cookies around and swap scary stories—Johnny frightens the living hell out of every single person with a tale about a haunted cabin and all their suitcases going missing. After that, it takes some effort to wrangle the campers into their pajamas and then into their tents, because all the eight-year-olds hit their sugar highs at the same time and spend what feels like hours running around blinding each other with headlights and singing camp songs at the top of their lungs. 

By the time everyone is finally asleep, Donghyuck is so bone-tired all he can do is pull on a clean pair of shorts and a hoodie and collapse on top of his sleeping bag. Jaemin’s spot next to him is still empty, but Donghyuck watched him follow Sonia into the woods a little while ago, a lighter flickering between their cupped hands. 

Jaemin doesn’t bring the scent of weed with him, though, when he crouches in front of the opening of their tent and slowly unzips it, like he’s not sure if Donghyuck is awake or not. 

“Jaemin?” Donghyuck asks, and Jaemin exhales, grabbing his sleeping bag. 

“You’re awake,” Jaemin says. “Come on. The stars are awesome.” 

Donghyuck sits up and gathers his stuff, following Jaemin through the tent flap and a little ways out of the trees, where Jaemin spreads out a tarp and lays his sleeping bag down on it. 

Donghyuck tentatively sits next to him. They still haven’t talked about the kiss, but the tension doesn’t sit heavily between them, like the argument in the spring did—instead, it waits, like it knows they’re not in a hurry this time. 

“Lie back,” Jaemin says, patting the ground. “You can see the Milky Way.” 

Donghyuck does, and his breath catches in his throat as soon as he looks up. The sky is velvet-black and filled to the bursting with stars, the Milky Way stretching across it like a great white scar. 

“That’s…wow,” Donghyuck breathes. Next to him, Jaemin laughs softly. 

“Right? You don’t get this many stars back by campus.” 

The mention of the real world comes as a bit of a shock to his system. Right. Reality. Everything that existed outside of this camp, including all of the problems—and the argument—that Donghyuck and Jaemin had.  

But right now, there is no tension, and Donghyuck finds himself relaxing again as he and Jaemin fall easily into conversation about smaller things, like classes in the fall, or the summers Jaemin spent here as a kid. Donghyuck’s parents in Sacramento. Jaemin’s cat, which he left with his friend Jisung back on campus. A crash Donghyuck had while he was mountain biking. The marathon Jaemin wants to run, and his new pour-over coffee kit his mother sent him. Donghyuck’s ten-dollar rollerblades he found at a garage sale. 

“My friend Mark—you met him, right? Yeah? Well, he skateboards, and he’s always inviting me along, but I don’t skateboard, so I decided to rollerblade. It’s like the same thing, pretty much,” Donghyuck says. “Is that the North Star?” 

“No, I think that’s Venus,” Jaemin says, squinting. It turns out to be an airplane, or a satellite, and they lie there and laugh about it until Donghyuck’s lungs ache, but his chest feels a little less tight. 

“I like the stars,” Donghyuck continues a little bit later. “I have—it’s hard for me to slow down, sometimes. I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever, like, stopped. You know? There’s always something.” 

“Like rollerblading,” Jaemin says, and Donghyuck snorts, rolling his eyes at the sky. But Jaemin’s right. Like rollerblading. Because before rollerblading it was League of Legends, and before that, it was Jaemin Na. 

“Just like rollerblading,” Donghyuck agrees. “Or this job. You know me.” 

“I do,” Jaemin says, and something in Donghyuck’s chest jumps. He’d said it jokingly, in that annoyingly self-satisfied way of his, but there’s a softness to it, like he wants Donghyuck to understand that he does genuinely know him. 

And that is part of the reason that Donghyuck couldn’t let him go—can’t let him go. Because Jaemin looks at him, and he knows. It’s an addicting feeling, being recognized, and then being understood. In their best moments, hovering in the same wavelength, all it would take was a glance in Jaemin’s direction, a hand in a hand, to be heard. 

He misses that. 

Jaemin fiddles with the strings on his hoodie. “Sorry for starting that fight.” 

“You’re a stubborn bastard,” Donghyuck says, exhaling. “And a dumbass.” 

“I know,” Jaemin says quietly. “We didn’t need to fight.” 

“We didn’t.” 

“Ever wonder what this summer would’ve been like if we hadn’t?” 

“I don’t like what-ifs,” Donghyuck says. Jaemin hums and tucks a hand under his neck. He’s close enough to touch, if Donghyuck wanted. And—and he does want to, with everything in him. It’s just not the time, right now, when Jaemin is looking at the stars with a distant expression, and Donghyuck can hear the domino-clatter of his thoughts, an express train in a tunnel on an endless loop. 

Donghyuck nudges him. “Let’s go to bed.” 

“Okay,” Jaemin agrees, and lets Donghyuck pull him to his feet. Donghyuck’s back will be sore tomorrow morning from lying on the ground, but he’d bear an ache like that any day to see the way the moonlight turns Jaemin silver. 

The tent, in the end, is just barely big enough for the two of them. Donghyuck gives Jaemin an apologetic look as they cram into it. Donghyuck’s elbow presses against the fabric as he tries to give Jaemin space, but they’re on a slight decline, and he ends up sliding back down. Their shoulders press together, Jaemin a solid block of warmth at Donghyuck’s side. He can feel the stillness of Jaemin’s body as he shifts around, zipping up his sleeping bag and cramming a spare sweatshirt under his head for a pillow. 

“This is a really, really small tent,” Jaemin says. “I think I’m gonna kill Renjun.”

“It was all of them,” Donghyuck replies, flipping onto his side. Jaemin props his chin on his hand. “They’re all in on it.”

He cuts himself off before he can continue. I think they might be trying to get us together, he was about to say, but Jaemin’s mouth is quirking and Donghyuck’s face is heating. 

“The least they could’ve done is give us a bigger tent, though,” Donghyuck says quickly, moving on. Jaemin notices, of course, but lets him change the subject anyway. 

“At least we won’t be cold,” Jaemin says, and then yawns so massively Donghyuck yawns too, rubbing his face. “God, I’m tired.” 

“It was sort of a long day,” Donghyuck agrees. Jaemin yawns again, blinking at Donghyuck sleepily. There’s an eyelash on his cheek. 

“You have an eyelash,” Donghyuck says quietly, pointing. Jaemin, without really opening his eyes, tilts his face in Donghyuck’s direction, an unspoken request. Donghyuck hesitates a moment before he reaches out and brushes it off Jaemin’s cheek with his pinkie. “Make a wish.” 

“I wish you’d do that thing,” Jaemin says sleepily, putting his head back down and sighing. “Your hand. Right before we fought.” 

The memory comes back to Donghyuck—lying in Jaemin’s bed in early spring with his hand on the nape of Jaemin’s neck, breathing slowly as the sun set through the window. 

Donghyuck lifts his hand now, even as he says, “You’re not supposed to tell your wishes to other people. They’re supposed to be kept to yourself.”

“You can have that wish, then,” Jaemin murmurs, already half-asleep. Donghyuck’s always envied him for that particular talent—for someone so caffeinated, he can fall asleep pretty much anywhere within minutes. “It’s for you.” 

Donghyuck opens his mouth to say something clever, but Jaemin is already asleep. Donghyuck looks at him for a long moment. He doesn’t move his hand, either, even as he falls asleep. 

He wakes up the next morning to the very pleasant sensation of Jaemin’s arm draped across his waist, warm and familiar. He takes a deep breath of cool morning air, his lungs filling with the smell of pine trees and cooking food. 

He checks his watch. It’s quarter to seven, as he suspected—his internal alarm, after working here for nearly three months—is just about perfect, accustomed to the early wake-up. The campers need to be roused at eight, but there are already a couple that stumble sleepy-eyed to the bathroom to change out of their pajamas. 

Donghyuck gives himself one minute more before he sits up, Jaemin’s arm sliding off of him. He misses it immediately, but gets to watch Jaemin’s face he wakes, blinking blearily for a couple seconds before focusing on Donghyuck. His mouth pulls into a sweet, sleepy smile, and Donghyuck catches himself leaning forward with a jolt. 

NO KISSING, he thinks firmly. There’s no rain fly on their tent, and he can see Kyrie wiggling her eyebrows at him. Donghyuck flips her off as Jaemin stretches with a groan. “G’morning,” he says hoarsely, clearing his throat. “Whoa, I slept like a rock.” 

His face is as pink as his hair. Donghyuck still definitely wants to kiss him—but he also wants to save it for a more dramatic moment. Jaemin had caught him by surprise under the dock, and Donghyuck wants to get him back. 

So he’ll be patient, even when Jaemin rubs his eyes and complains about early mornings with his face pressed against Donghyuck’s thigh. Even when Jaemin hangs off of him for the entirety of breakfast as he resurrects himself with a truly shocking amount of coffee. 

It’s a little bit easier when Jaemin isn’t touching him, but not by much—Jaemin gets dogpiled by his and Donghyuck’s campers in the process of putting the tents away, and Donghyuck watches him with so much affection that he sort of feels like vomiting. 

“You’re welcome,” Renjun says, cruising past him with a skillet under his arm. 

“Shut the fuck up, dude,” Donghyuck replies, but can’t wipe the silly smile off of his face. 

It follows him all the way back down to camp, through the debrief that afternoon with Johnny and Jaehyun, through dinner. He and Jaemin sit next to each other and bump elbows. Jaemin puts his hand on Donghyuck’s thigh and Sonia mimes vomiting into her bowl of soup.

“I don’t think I’m over Jaemin,” Donghyuck admits to Renjun that night, as they referee a game of ultimate frisbee before dessert. 

Renjun stares at him for a long moment. “You’re unbelievable,” he says flatly, and marches away before Donghyuck can even protest. He tells Kyrie, who just laughs at him and tosses him a frisbee. Iyana says, “Yeah, and?” when Donghyuck tells her. Sonia threatens to throw him into the lake. 

“We literally locked you guys in the storage shed,” Jeno says during Thursday evening, the second-to-last day of camp. Summer is fading, and there’s the feeling of it in the air. September is just around the corner, and Donghyuck watches Ian and Haley fling themselves off the dock and into the water with gleeful screams. Nia is trying to teach Jack how to do an underwater somersault, and Soobin and Caleb chase Eliana and Citra with clumps of pond weed clutched in their hands. Jaemin is in the water with them, and he waves when he sees Donghyuck and Jeno looking at him. 

“Nobody has been supportive of me,” Donghyuck complains. 

“Hey, whoa, don’t eat that!” Jeno yells at Caleb, who has the pond weed halfway to his mouth. He turns back to Donghyuck. “And it’s because we’ve been trying to get you to realize it for the entire week.”

“And I have realized that,” Donghyuck says. “So why aren’t you celebrating?” 

“Because you’re incredibly dramatic,” Jeno says. “You don’t need anybody feeding your ego.” 

“You’re being extra mean today,” Donghyuck notices, and Jeno gives him a tired look. 

“The second Jaemin walked into that room, everybody knew you guys were still into each other,” Jeno says, “but the two of you are incredibly stubborn and unnecessarily dramatic. Nobody is celebrating because we’ve known this entire time.” 

“Known what?” Donghyuck says. 

Jeno looks at him like he’s crazy. “That you’re still in love with Jaemin Na? Isn’t that what this whole conversation has been about?” 

“I—what?” Donghyuck asks, but Jeno blows his whistle, and the campers scramble out of the water. Donghyuck feels like he’s been hit over the head. 

“You coming?” Jaemin asks, jogging past with his arms full of flip-flops. “Hey, Soobin, don’t forget your shoes!”

Donghyuck follows, still feeling like he’s missed the punchline at some point.

The moments between are always strangest at the camp—when there’s nothing that they’re supposed to be doing, nowhere to be, no activities to do. Just the sound of voices in the distance, the cabin doors banging, the crunch of gravel, and the boys yelling in the shower house. Donghyuck stands in the quiet of his bedroom, swimsuit dripping water onto the floor, his shirt in his hands. 

You’re still in love with Jaemin Na. 

“Oh,” he says, though he’s not really sure if anything makes any more sense than it did before. Oh, because Jaemin still likes him enough to kiss him under the dock, maybe. Oh, because Jaemin forgave him for the other night, and probably would forgive him for earlier, too. Oh, because he’s just realized he’s never actually hated Jaemin—oh, because Donghyuck had forgiven him the second he’d shown up at the beginning of the camp session with his pink hair and nice, even tan and had looked at Donghyuck with a face that said please don’t shut me out. 

He’d looked at Donghyuck like that under the stars, in the tent, his chin tilted forward. Please don’t shut me out. I don’t know how to say I’m sorry. 

I love Jaemin Na, Donghyuck thinks. Still. Even more. 

“Oh,” he says again, because he really is an idiot. “Oh.” 

It’s not about getting back together, or wanting to kiss him again. It’s not even about apologizing at this point, because by now, they’ve forgiven each other five times over. 

Now it’s really just about telling him. And then figuring the rest out. Because if Donghyuck still loves Jaemin like the campfire loves its song and the sky loves its moon, then there’s nothing else to do other than kiss him hard and ask him. 

They have one final day of activities. There’s tree-climbing and soccer, lunch sprawled under the sun, Capri-Sun straws being used as darts. There is some looking at leaves under microscopes. Nia clings onto him and says that she doesn’t want to go. Caleb and Haley go through sheets of construction paper in their planning for tonight’s game of capture the flag. 

“Why aren’t we with Jaemin’s team?” Jack asks. “Eliana’s a fast runner. She’d be so good.” 

“It’s odd numbers versus even numbers,” Donghyuck reminds him. “We’re with Iyana and Kyrie’s group.” 

“Oh, Kyrie,” Caleb says. “I like her. She knows about football.” 

“She’s really good at capture the flag,” Donghyuck says. “And Iyana will gladly be the jail guard, so we’re all free to run.” 

“This is gonna be so sweet,” Caleb says. “Jack, look at these formations me and Haley drew.” 

Jack bends over the paper, and Nia leans into Donghyuck’s side. He puts an arm around her. 

“It’ll be okay,” he tells her. “We’ve had so much fun, haven’t we?” 

Nia sniffs. “Yeah,” she says, “but I want to have more fun. I don’t wanna go back to stupid school. My teacher is the stinkiest stinky-butt and I still don’t know my multiplication tables.” The last bit of her sentence ends with a tearful waver.

“Aw, Nia,” Donghyuck says. “Hey, don’t cry. You’ll be okay. Multiplication tables aren’t that important anyway.” 

She looks up at him, eyes huge. Donghyuck wonders if that was the right thing to say, but it seems to make her feel better. 

Jaemin comes over with his group a few minutes later, and they have one last trip to the lake and to the Clubhouse for reading and crafts. Ian and Jack fight over the hammock for a little while before giving up and going to make Hot Wheels race tracks with Jaemin. 

On their way to dinner, humming with anticipation for capture the flag—he’s competitive, and he’s against Jaemin, and he likes winning, okay, so it makes sense—he’s just reckless enough to ask Jaemin about the future. 

“If I kick your ass in capture the flag, will you go out with me?” Donghyuck asks, bumping their shoulders together. 

“Go out with you?” Jaemin asks, spinning around so he’s walking backwards, looking amused. “Like, on a date?” 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says. “We could get lunch.” 

“But only if you guys win?” 

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “You don’t think we will?” 

“I heard from Renjun that the odd numbers were on a bit of a winning streak,” Jaemin says, his mouth tugging up at one corner. 

“Past tense were,” Donghyuck replies, elbowing Jaemin. “We’re so gonna kick your asses. My kids are out for blood. Last I checked, Citra was asking you if she could just be in jail the whole time so she doesn’t have to run.” 

Jaemin gives him a look of disbelief. “You’re totally spying on us.” 

“As I said,” Donghyuck says, bowing dramatically, “your asses will be kicked. And then we can go to that new pho place that opened by campus, and I’ll even let you kiss me again.” 

“Will you, now?” 

Donghyuck gives Jaemin a cheeky smile and receives one in return. “Yep.” 

Dinner is a riot. There is a lot of standing on chairs and shouting, running over to other tables to discuss strategies or come with ways to trick the enemy. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a group this into capture the flag,” Johnny remarks, stunned, as all forty kids are finally freed from the dining hall to go set up. “They’re sort of aggressive, aren’t they?” 

Donghyuck watches Caleb hurl a clump of grass at Ian’s face. Haley blows a raspberry at someone in Renjun’s group. “Just a little,” Donghyuck says. “Should be fun, though.” 

“Maybe I’ll come over and watch,” Johnny says, amused. “Try to keep anyone from falling in the creek or breaking a leg.” 

“We’ll do our best,” Donghyuck says, and jogs over to join his team. You’re going down, he mouths at Jaemin and Renjun, smacking his fist against the palm of his other hand. 

Jaemin gives him a charming smile that does not put Donghyuck at ease in the slightest. 

“Huddle up, team!” Kyrie calls. She’s got a long strap and a bandana with a clip attached. “We have to decide where to put our flag.” 

“WAIT A SECOND,” one of Kyrie’s kids shouts, pointing at a girl Donghyuck knows does not belong. “She’s in Sonia’s group!” 

“Lola, come on,” Donghyuck says, shooing her away. “Play fair.” 

“Jaemin told us to do whatever it takes,” Lola says, pouting as she sulks back to her side. 

Donghyuck sticks his head up and makes eye contact with Jaemin across the field. He raises a solemn middle finger in his direction, lowering his hand before any of the kids can see. Jaemin rolls his eyes and blows him a kiss. 

“Donghyuck, focus,” Kyrie says. “Iyana, get off your phone. This is real business.” The thing is, she means it. When it comes to sports, Kyrie always means it. It’s a little scary, but mostly inspiring—Kyrie has the personality of a gym class leader, the sort that was always picked first and always won dodgeball. He’s glad she’s on his side, and not Renjun and Jaemin’s. 

Iyana sighs heavily. “I’m not in the mood for running.” 

“Then be the jail guard,” Kyrie tells her, exasperated.

They wrap the strap around a tree and clip the bandana to it. One of Kyrie’s kids really wants to be flag guard, and another really wants to stay with Iyana by their jail, which is a long rope laid out on the ground in the shape of a circle on the other end of their team’s side. 

Johnny shows up just as they’re about to start, which is lucky, because none of them wanted to be the referee. 

“You guys are worse than the kids,” Johnny tells them as Jaemin and Donghyuck make faces at each other. He raises his voice. “Everyone know the rules? Stay ten feet from the flag and the jail, if you’re freed from jail, you get to walk back to your side without being chased, first one to capture the other team’s flag wins, and get to make s’mores first. No pushing. Please.” 

Johnny blows the whistle. Donghyuck grins at Jaemin. Game on. 

The first couple minutes are chaos. Neither team knows where the other’s flag is hidden, so there are a couple scouting missions that land a few people in jail. There’s one attempt by the odd numbers to charge their side, only to turn around at the last minute when a couple of Iyana’s kids finally find the flag, hidden amongst the bushes near where the trees start. They manage to move it a couple inches before they’re both tagged. 

Donghyuck is enlisted by a couple of his own kids to go free them, and they skirt along the left side of the field as the rest of their team taunts the other side to keep them distracted. Jaemin is playing jail guard, but he’s distracted by Citra, who is throwing a fit because she doesn’t want to play and other kids are being mean to her because of it. 

“Go,” Donghyuck says, tagging the jail. “You’re free. Keep your hands up and the other kids won’t be able to tag you.” 

“Come on,” Haley whispers, tugging at his shirt. “Before Jaemin sees.” 

“A little too late for that!” Jaemin shouts, grinning, and Haley shrieks before she takes off running, Donghyuck a half step behind her. 

“Run!” Caleb is shouting from their side. Jack dances over the line like he’s about to run, taunting, but Jaemin is focused on getting Donghyuck. Which is fair, but also is not—going—to—happen. 

Donghyuck skids back over to his team’s side just as Jaemin’s hand grazes his back. There’s a stitch in his side, and he braces his hands on his knees as he sucks in air. He hasn’t run that hard since—well, since the last time they played capture the flag, and he and Renjun riled each other up. 

“Jesus, you’re fast,” he tells Jaemin. “For no reason.” 

“I literally almost got you,” Jaemin complains. “Come hang out with me in the jail.” 

“No thank you,” Donghyuck says politely, straightening and stepping back from the line. “I’ve got some asses to kick, remember?” 

“ENEMY ALERT,” Caleb shouts, pointing at a group of young kids dragging a very unwilling Sonia towards their side. 

“GET THEM!” Haley yells in response, and they charge towards Sonia. 

“See you,” Donghyuck says sweetly, waving in Jaemin’s direction. “Be prepared to get taken on the best date ever! It’ll blow all our other ones out of the park!” 

The game goes on. After about twenty or thirty minutes, both flags have been touched, but neither side has come close to victory. 

“We need a diversion,” Jack says enthusiastically.

“What’s a diversion?” asks one of Kyrie’s kids, frowning. 

“Like a distraction,” Nia tells her. “We need to get all of the odds to follow one group. And then—” 

“And then another two or three people will get the flag,” Jack says confidently. “I’ve seen it in movies.” 

“Like a feint,” Caleb says, because everything has to be about football. “I call being in the flag group.” 

Another one of Iyana’s kids volunteers, as well as Haley. Donghyuck is elected to lead the charge of the distractors, as Jack calls them. 

“Alright, ready,” Donghyuck says. “It’s okay if we go to jail. Someone will come free us, and then we’ll go and make s’mores.” 

One of Iyana’s kids rubs his hands. “Let’s go! CHARGE!” 

“CHARGE!” echoes from their small group of people, and they go sprinting over the border. Most of them are tagged within minutes, and eventually, Renjun whacks Donghyuck on the arm and sends him to jail with the rest of the kids. 

“What was that I heard about ass-kicking?” Jaemin teases as Donghyuck joins his team in the rope circle. Jaemin has the sleeves of his camp shirt rolled up again, and he looks unfairly good in the light of the setting sun, summer-kissed and golden. Too bad Donghyuck is about to win, otherwise he’d grab Jaemin and kiss him behind the fieldhouse shed until they’re both breathless. 

“Oh no, looks like I’m stuck in jail,” Donghyuk says in a loud monotone, making a couple of his campers giggle. “We’re so stuck in here. This is terrible.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees one of Iyana’s kids creeping forward, probably going for the jailbreak. Donghyuck sees his chance at the same time Jaemin sees the trap, and before Jaemin can go and tag the kid, Donghyuck looks him in the eye and says, just loud enough for Jaemin to hear, “I’m in love with you.” 

Jaemin freezes in his tracks, and Donghyuck grabs him around the waist, spins him behind the stupid fieldhouse, and kisses him like Jaemin had kissed him under the dock, except with twice the amount of ferociousness. 

“What,” Jaemin breathes against his mouth, “you—what? Donghyuck?” 

“This is payback,” Donghyuck says, “for under the dock.”

“You just said you—” 

Donghyuck presses forward and kisses him again, deeper, sliding his tongue against Jaemin’s, thumbs brushing along the high line of Jaemin’s cheekbones. He feels Jaemin’s chest stutter, his hands hot on Donghyuck’s waist. 

He pulls away to an explosion of noise. Jaemin looks dazed, and Donghyuck kisses him on the nose and both of his cheeks before reemerging, where the jailbreak has been completed and Caleb is in possession of the odd team’s flag, the blue bandana gripped tightly in his fist. One of Renjun’s kids is gaining fast on him, however, and Caleb knows this. He’s going to get tagged.

And then a miracle occurs: Caleb balls up the bandana and tosses it right into Nia’s hands, who stands there for a single shocked second, staring at the flag—the hopes and dreams of her team—suddenly placed in her hands. 

And she takes off. Donghyuck has never seen a kid run so fast. Her teammates run to greet her as she takes the last victorious steps back to the safe side, the blue bandana clutched in both hands. 

The cheers are earsplitting. Nia is grinning widely, face red, and that’s the last Donghyuck sees of her before she’s tackled by the rest of her friends, who are screaming her name at the tops of their lungs. 

Donghyuck watches them, feeling like he’s been lit up on the inside. 

“Good game,” Renjun says, coming up behind him and patting him on the back. “I think you killed Jaemin. He’s still back there.” 

Donghyuck crosses his arms and tries not to look too smug. “I told him I loved him.” 

Renjun snorts. “Yeah, that’ll do it. He’s going to kick your ass for that later, you know?” 

“I know,” Donghyuck says, watching Haley hug Nia so tightly she’s lifted off the ground. “It was worth it.” 

Jaemin finally comes out from behind the shed, but he’s still so red he’s practically glowing. Donghyuck has never seen him look so flustered, and it satisfies something deep within him. Jaemin sends him a murderous look that holds no heat, and that’s how he knows he’s already been forgiven. This summer, it seems, has been good like that. 

They all head to the bonfire after the field gets cleaned up. Even the defeated team is in good spirits, joking and doing dramatic retellings from parts of the game. The winning team shuffles up to make their s’mores first, the light of the campfire casting everything in a warm yellow glow. Jaehyun and Johnny come with water, and Jeno brings his guitar, plucking out “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”, which nearly ends in a fight between Dodgers and Giants fans, and “Wonderwall” by Oasis, which he plays twice in a row just to spite Renjun, who hates it. 

Donghyuck listens to a few stories and helps stick together s’mores. Jaemin sits down next to him just as Johnny begins one of his famous spooky stories, something about a possessed cup of coffee and a ghost. 

Donghyuck offers Jaemin a piece of half-melted chocolate on a graham cracker. “There weren’t any more marshmallows,” he says apologetically. “But I know you don’t like them very much, anyway.” 

Jaemin takes the cracker, his eyes still fixed on Donghyuck’s face. “Did you mean it?” he asks after a second. Donghyuck doesn’t need to ask what it is. 

He laughs nervously. Time to tell the truth. “I meant it from the get-go,” Donghyuck says. “Since the spring. Since before the fight.” 

Jaemin purses his lips, and Donghyuck holds his breath. Jeno strums on, Iyana says something, and there’s a round of laughter. 

“I hope,” Jaemin says quietly, reaching for Donghyuck’s hand, “that we won’t fight like that in the future. And if we do, I hope that we can slow down and apologize. I don’t—I don’t want to hate you.” 

“I don’t want to hate you either,” Donghyuck says. “In fact, I’d really like to kiss you.” 

Jaemin’s nose wrinkles, and their fingers slot together. “Gross.” 

“You’re gross.” 

“You’re the grossest,” Jaemin says. “Kissing me behind the shed like that. Confessing your love. You’re the worst, Donghyuck Lee.” 

“Just for you,” Donghyuck replies sweetly.

“I can’t believe you love me,” Jaemin says, laughing as Donghyuck loops his arms around Jaemin’s waist, pulling him closer. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” 

“Too bad,” Donghyuck says. “I won that date fair and square, you know. I dare you to get rid of me now. I’m done hating you and now I’m ready to be your boyfriend forever.” 

Jaemin cups Donghyuck’s face. “Convenient you say that,” he says, “because I was just about to tell you the same thing.” 

And when Jaemin smiles, Donghyuck decides that he no longer cares who may be watching. 

He kisses Jaemin right on the mouth, there, in the half-shadows. Jaemin tastes like chocolate and summer, and he kisses like they have all the time in the world—that, and also like one last campfire song, the sweet sound of two boys in love.