Archive of Our Own

Sehun sees Chanyeol for the first time when Chanyeol is eating the patbingsu Sehun’s aunt sells just off the beach. Sehun is thirteen and Chanyeol smiles happily at his shaved ice and then looks up and, by proxy, smiles at Sehun as well. His big eyes scrunch up and Sehun forgets what he's run here to tell his aunt. He has to run right back home to ask again.

It's the first year Chanyeol's family comes to the beach in the summer. Chanyeol's dad brings a guitar to a bonfire the town organises, and Chanyeol hands Sehun a hot sweet potato from the fire embers, blowing right on it while it rests in Sehun’s unsure hands before he introduces himself. Sehun, in return, ends up sharing his lemonade.

By the end of week two of Chanyeol’s stay, they spend their entire days together. Chanyeol competitively builds sand castles with the help of Sehun's much larger arsenal of tools, which Sehun steals from his household. In the evening, Chanyeol tries to learn the stars in the skies and plucks at his dad's guitar, and talks about how many hagwons he plans to go to next year, when he starts high school. They save a stray cat together and exchange their cyworld nicknames. Sehun doesn't have a cell phone yet, but there is a PC bang he is allowed to go to once a week.

“You’re so lucky to have all this, all the time,” Chanyeol says wistfully as they watch the ocean shimmer in the last rays of light, the night before Chanyeol’s family’s departure.

“It’s not always this pretty,” Sehun tries to be helpful.

“I love the ocean, Sehunnie,” Chanyeol only laughs, a tiny sound. “I’ll miss it.”

“My dad says it’s never far away in our country,” Sehun says, frankly, not being able to imagine it, a day when he doesn’t wade through the coarse sand of their beach. He doesn’t comprehend the distance to it, for Chanyeol, either.

When Chanyeol leaves, he does write to Sehun, about his school, his guitar and drums lessons, his long study sessions, and his friends. Sehun’s life is much sleepier, even if he’s now in middle school at last, one of the oldest kids in his class. He does have the ocean though, and he sends pictures of it and the now much emptier beach to Chanyeol to compensate for the fact he’s not so good with words.

The next year Sehun knows when Chanyeol's family arrives, because Chanyeol messages him. The smile on Chanyeol's face when they meet on the rock pier still catches Sehun off guard.

Chanyeol's sixteen and highschooler and so cool in Sehun’s eyes. He plays the drums more often than the guitar because it's more rock or something and his hair is longer. He's gotten taller and they don't build sand castles anymore.

Sehun finds a pack of cigarettes left on the bench by the patbingsu stand and Chanyeol looks at it wearily, when Sehunt tells him about it. Every time Sehun shows him conspiratorially that he carries a few of the sticks around with him, he scrunches his face and complains about how unhealthy he’s read the cigarettes are. Sehun’s just curious, that’s all.

“I should be the responsible one between us,” Chanyeol groans, when Sehun asks to try them, again, one evening. “You’re still a kid, too young for this.”

Sehun glares at him.

“Fine, better with me than with some punks, I guess,” Chanyeol sighs and Sehun forgives the kid comment.

“I’ll throw away the rest if you want me to,” he says instead because he just wants to try this once, and there’s no one he’d rather do it with than Chanyeol, who seems to know so much about everything and anything.

In the end they try to smoke behind the beach shed at the far end where their parents can't find them, twice. And Chanyeol sternly makes Sehun throw the rest of the pack of cigarettes away after the second time results in coughing fits and leaves a weird aftertaste on their tongues.

Truthfully Sehun likes cigarettes more than he admits, but Chanyeol would rather play games than smell like the stick. So instead they go to the PC bang to play video games Chanyeol likes. Sehun, most of all, likes to spend time with Chanyeol, who is lively but reliable, and so different from all his other friends.

Over the three weeks Chanyeol stays, Sehun teaches Chanyeol to swim better and fails at teaching him to surf. It doesn't hit him until Chanyeol is gone, back to Seoul, why Chanyeol's smile seemed so bright. Suddenly, when Sehun sits on the rock pier alone, the blue of the ocean that Sehun loves so much, the sound of the waves crashing down onto the shore that used to be so brilliant, feels a little faded.

Sehun is fourteen, and everything is more confusing than it should be. He has a phone now though, and in it, Chanyeol's number. He sends him grainy pictures of the waves crashing to the shore after sunset, wondering if Chanyeol can hear the sound behind the pictures just like Sehun wants him to, because Chanyeol’s said it again, over and over, how much he likes the ocean.

At fifteen Sehun gets his first summer job. Or rather, he's made to help at the patbingsu stand. His aunt tells him he’s handsome and cute and all the girls will want to buy from them. Sehun has already figured out he wishes he had that effect on boys rather than girls.

Chanyeol is seventeen and angry at his band, formed just a few months prior, not surviving their first public performance. He refuses to play the guitar in the evening and gets impatient when Sehun tries, yet again, to teach him to surf when he has time between his patbingsu shifts. Chanyeol makes fast friends with Baekhyun and comes to buy shaved ice a lot. Sehun likes it the most when he comes alone, smiles at him, his hair shorter but sticking out in many directions from the salt water. When he’s alone, he stays chatting at him about his day, his sister and how much sand sticks to his thighs when he sits in it playing card games with Baekhyun.

“You’re growing up so fast, Sehun-ah,” Chanyeol says, as he slurps down the ice, sitting across the low plastic table from Sehun who is on a break. “Soon you won’t be a kid anymore.”

Sehun frowns, but Chanyeol doesn’t notice, pulling up his phone and texting someone.

“I’m not a kid,” Sehun says. “And you’re barely two years older than me.”

This year, it feels like a century between them. Sehun tries to learn the stars to maybe get Chanyeol to hang out with him, but feels always a little on the outside of the jokes Chanyeol and Baekhyun make. His curfew is illogically strict still and he wonders at times, when Chanyeol escapes to Daegu with Baekhyun in the evenings, if Chanyeol doesn’t love the ocean anymore. If his pictures have worn him out. But then Chanyeol joyfully play-drowns him in the water on the last Thursday he’s in town, when Sehun gets a whole day off and spends it with Chanyeol, Baekhyun and some of Baekhyun’s friends. In the evening they share food by the bonfire again, and Sehun secretly hopes he just needs to grow a little more for things to be good again.

For his sixteenth birthday, Sehun gets a proper camera. He takes a course. Chanyeol’s so busy with his new band and hagwons, and trying to get into college that his emails and messages are short and scarce. It's not until Sehun sends him the too-big-for email photo he's most proud of, does he get a real response. The photo of the dying bonfire and ocean lapping at the shore has Chanyeol sending the warmest, most enthusiastic message yet. Sehun reads it over ten times and can't fall asleep at night.

That summer, unknowingly at first, and broodily later, begrudgingly but not unwillingly, because he always wants to take pictures of Chanyeol, Sehun captures the quick and burning summer romance between Chanyeol and Baekhyun. They’re both too kind to not let Sehun hang out with them when he can, between his now even more frequent patbingsu stand shifts. Chanyeol is even willing to learn surfing now, much more than in the past, eighteen and wanting to impress Baekhyun who laughs at him, makes fun of his surfers’ bod but then winks at him, when he thinks Sehun isn’t looking.

Only Sehun is always looking. With or without his lens. Even if he spends most of his nights looking at the stars alone, as Chanyeol and Baekhyun sneak away and Sehun doesn’t want to think about what they’ve gone to do, alone in the dark. He thinks about it though, and thinks about it too much, even as he ignores Chanyeol’s swollen lips and Baekhyun’s fingers around Chanyeol’s wrist when he meets them on accident. He has a camera film of pictures of it too, not knowing where he’ll go to get them developed without the whole town knowing what those pictures are, what they hide, what they mean.

“You’re still here?” Chanyeol asks one night when he finds Sehun at the pier. His voice is gruff, his clothes wrinkled and there’s sand on his shins. He’s holding Baekhyun’s hand now, unbothered, but Baekhyun lets go when Sehun looks up.

“I like summer nights here,” Sehun just replies, looks out at the water, and even at sixteen he’s self aware to know he sounds dramatic and silly.

“Yeah, it’s the best,” Chanyeol only grins though, sitting down next to him and slinging an arm around his shoulders. “You’re so bony,” he laughs, and Baekhyun slides to sit next to Chanyeol.

“Wait one more year and his shoulders will be wider than yours,” Baekhyun says, teasing. “You’ve seen his hyung.”

Chanyeol only laughs, but doesn't comment on Sehun being a growing boy.

“I’ll be jealous,” he only says, then pulls out his .mp3 player, puts some rock band on and lets it play on max volume from his earphones just hanging around his neck so they all hear a little. “I’m jealous of you guys living here more though,” he sighs, slumping against Sehun. Sehun has never enjoyed being warm this much. He shakes hair out of his eyes and wonders how this winter will be, with high school and Chanyeol even busier with CSAT in November and prep courses.

“It’s the best,” he only says.

“I never want to stop coming here,” Chanyeol mumbles, and Sehun ignores that his other arm is wrapped around Baekhyun’s waist. He closes his eyes and wonders if they really could meet like this, every summer, for the rest of their lives.

Summer ends. Baekhyun stands next to him, gloomy, as Chanyeol leaves and then chitchats with him over boba tea about Sehun’s high school in the next town over and his own struggles with prep courses. It’s strange, because all Sehun can think of is the hickey badly hidden in the crook of Baekhyun’s long neck and Chanyeol’s droopy eyes, looking at Baekhyun right before he slipped into the back seat of his car to sit next to his sister.

In the early spring, Sehun is drawn to the evening lights of the bigger town, new friends and photography, for which his high school has a club. He doesn’t dare to develop his summer pictures in the club’s dark room though, afraid of anyone seeing them, afraid of really looking at them. Chanyeol keeps in touch over short, sporadic texts and Sehun follows him on Facebook, but the conversation feels stilted online. Baekhyun catches up with him on his way home from school sometimes, sharing the night bus with him because instead of college he does what he calls a gap year, but they don’t really talk about Chanyeol.

Instead Baekhyun talks about his singing classes, about Taeyeon from Girls’ Generation, and asks Sehun about him, like they’re friends. They probably are, by now. Sehun builds a makeshift dark room in the second bathroom of their house, eventually, and develops all his summer films. He feels a dull ache looking at the pictures, and keeps one of Chanyeol, smiling crookedly, off center and not at the camera at all, in the one book he’s read more than once, hidden from everyone. He wins the first photography competition in May, and wonders for the first time, if this could be something for him, something to do for the rest of his life.

That summer, Baekhyun moves to Seoul to take singing classes, crashing with his aunt. Chanyeol doesn't look too sad about it, seemingly having known before he arrived in Sehun's hometown. He’s taller still, full of confusion at how much bigger and different university is, and playing mellow melodies on his guitar. Sehun works as a lifeguard, and Chanyeol stares at him for a long time, the first time he sees him on the life guard chair. Sehun doesn’t know what Chanyeol sees that makes his next step fumbling, before he smiles, wide and bright, and shouts, “I love this beach!”

Sehun is seventeen and it is his best summer yet.

“I like my classes,” Chanyeol whispers as they lay in the sand the first evening, barely heard over the gentle waves of the beach, “but I'm also kind of scared. Like how did I get there, you know?”

“No,” Sehun deadpans. He doesn’t. He supposes highschool is less of a change than college, and one that is inevitable. He’s not thinking about it much beyond the way to avoid some of his cram school classes and what picture he wants to take next. Some of the people he’s known since he was little go to the same school and there is always someone on the night bus with him who is familiar.

Chanyeol laughs. Sehun feels like the kid more than when Chanyeol kept reminding him. The space between their bodies in the sand is that much wider, for just a moment.

“Never mind,” Chanyeol shrugs. “I don’t want to think about it. Tell me what you hate most about high school,” he stops then, and he sounds incredulous when he speaks next. “How are you doing in high school?!?”

“Shut up if you’re gonna sound like an old man,” Sehun says and Chanyeol laughs louder than the ocean, roaring.

Chanyeol swims and sunbathes a bit too much for the local aunties who try to make him put on a t-shirt and sunscreen. Sehun is glad the t-shirt never sticks around too long. When Sehun isn’t working on the beach or in the patbingsu stand, he takes Chanyeol further from the official beach, picking across the rocky coast with him and his camera, and Chanyeol’s guitar. Sometimes it’s quiet, sometimes Chanyeol talks excessively about the music and his friends back in the city.

At night, often other people join them. Chanyeol’s been coming long enough that he’s been adopted by the local teenage gang every summer, even if the crowd is always a little different. There isn’t another Baekhyun amongst them though, this time, and Chanyeol sticks to Sehun more than Sehun thought he would now that he’s in college. At the end of the long summer days, it’s mostly just them, walking across the town towards their beds, together.

“You’re my best friend away from home,” Chanyeol says, simply.

“Is it all the free shaved ice?” Sehun asks, and Chanyeol’s laughter soars yet again.

“If it was, I’d be best friends with your aunt, Sehun,” he says.

“Are you taking a picture of me?” Chanyeol asks on the small hike they take on Sehun’s rare free day. All the photography equipment is kind of pricey and he works as much as he can to be able to afford all he wants. Today though, Chanyeol’s borrowed an old motorbike from Yesung, the guy bartending their local attempt at the beach bar, and pulled Sehun along for the ride.

“Well, you’re right there,” Sehun points towards the view down the hill, lush and green despite the heat.

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “I’m in the way?”

Sehun could say yes. But it’s not like this would be the first picture Sehun would take of Chanyeol, or the first time Chanyeol noticed either, that Sehun is more interested in him than the scenery.

“I like having people in my pictures.”

“Like portraits?” Chanyeol tilts his head and looks away from the view completely, watching Sehun fumble with his analogue camera.

“As part of the composition,” Sehun says, thinking about it seriously even if Chanyeol is an exception to everything normal for him, “but sometimes I just like taking pictures of people. How they carry themselves, their clothes, and stuff.”

“So, more like fashion then?” Chanyeol asks.

Sehun has bought a magazine or ten before when he liked the cover picture.

“That too,” he agrees. He rarely really thinks about it this much or tries to define himself and his pictures. There’s no need if it’s just a hobby. Maybe one day though.

“You have to give me one of your pictures of me then,” Chanyeol says, straightening up to his full height, shoulders not slouching for once and striking a piece sign. “So I can brag about being one of the first models of a famous photographer in the future.”

“You don’t know if I’ll even earn money by this,” Sehun points out. He wants to be that good, but he still thinks the only thing he captures well is the ocean he loves. And Chanyeol.

“You should practice on me then,” Chanyeol laughs, jutting his hip out jokingly. “So that it happens.”

“You’re leaving in a week,” Sehun reminds him, raising an eyebrow instead of allowing himself to be sad about it.

“Enough time to save the day,” Chanyeol only says, smiling winningly. “But now come here and enjoy the view, yeah? You can see the ocean crashing onto the rocks you took me to yesterday from here.”

Sehun goes and stands as close to Chanyeol as he dares and follows where Chanyeol points to with excitement, (often wrongly) identifying the places they’ve climbed to across the shore.

There is just this one moment, when Chanyeol walks him home after a bonfire, three days before he leaves, when Sehun thinks that maybe he could kiss Chanyeol. He’s wanted to, so many times, over the summer. But tonight, their arms keep on brushing, and Chanyeol’s quieted down from his rant about trot song requests at the bonfire and keeps glancing down at Sehun, jittery. Sehun’s stomach is in knots, and maybe he’s drunk from the beer Chanyeol kept sneaking to him. Maybe he’s had more than he thought, but it feels like he could kiss Chanyeol, just pull at Chanyeol’s hand, drag him down the side street, the one he’s caught Chanyeol and Baekhyun sneaking out from a summer ago and …

They reach Sehun’s house first and Chanyeol smiles, kind of weird and crooked and tiny, waves his hand, and he’s gone. Sehun takes a photo of his back with his phone. It sucks.

“Have you developed any of the pictures you took this summer?” Chanyeol asks him, a day before his departure. They’re sitting too close to the tide line, not only feet but also butts wet.

Sehun did, but there were too many pictures of Chanyeol. He shakes his head.

“I still want a picture from you though,” Chanyeol says, audibly pouting. Sehun has taken his silly remark up on the hike as permission to take pictures without sneaking. Now he takes a silly picture of their feet just as another wave swallows them.

“I can do it tonight.”

“Ah, I wanted to see how it’s done,” Chanyeol says, sounding regretful. He leans into Sehun’s arm.

“The bathroom is too small for two people,” Sehun shrugs. He’s not even lying.

The image of him and Chanyeol crammed in the dark among half developed pics, basins with his solutions and makeshift table is … exciting. It makes the skin on Sehun’s neck tingle.

But also, “We’d spill everything and ruin the pictures.”

He can imagine that too, fondly. Chanyeol’s elbows knocking into everything, Sehun trying to right him and instead being pulled into the tub in a painful heap, maybe a broken bone or two. Not really sexy.

Chanyeol laughs. “Will you give me a picture of the sea as well?” he asks, still kind of giggling.

“It’s just water,” Sehun says. He knows how Chanyeol feels though as another wave rushes towards them in foam and a soaring shimmer of sound. So he agrees. “Sure, to tide you over until next summer.”

Chanyeol nods. Then he grabs Sehun’s camera from around his neck. “Let’s take a picture together,” he says.

He’s a bit clumsy with the way he turns the lens on them. Sehun’s pretty sure they aren’t both in the frame. He still looks directly into the lens. Chanyeol takes three pictures before he laughs and gives up for a moment.

“They’ll probably suck,” he notes. Then he throws his arm around Sehun’s shoulders.

He’s done it so many times this summer, and every time Sehun feels warmer than he should. He presses closer, wraps his arm around Chanyeol's waist because Chanyeol’s leaving tomorrow and he touches everyone so he won’t find it weird. He grabs the camera still in Chanyeol’s hold with his other hand, and already as he tries to right it, straighten the angle, Chanyeol takes a picture.

“Do it now,” Sehun says at last when he thinks it is kind of centered, and Chanyeol does, one last time.

“Perfect,” Chanyeol smiles wide, turning his face to him. They’re so close his lips ghost Sehun’s cheek where he’s still looking forward.

He pulls away to carefully tuck the camera back around his neck and stands up.

“Let’s get fried chicken,” he says slowly, exhaling on it. “I can’t work on an empty stomach,” he adds, lifting the camera a little from across his neck.

“Gotta feed the growing boy then,” Chanyeol nods.

“You grew like two centimeters while you were here,” Sehun deadpans. It’s true though maybe it’s weird that he’s noticed.

Chanyeol just looks smug and proud. “I would be a much better idol than Baekhyun ever could,” he says, proudly.

“Your legs are too bow shaped,” Sehun only quips back, a little meanly.

Chanyeol seems delighted that he noticed that too.

Sehun gives Chanyeol three pictures of the ocean from the cliffs, one of them with him in the shot and another of Chanyeol falling off his surf. Chanyeol laughs so hard as he gets to that one. Sehun also gives him the crooked picture of the two of them, with their hands around each other, the first one he took before Sehun got the camera right. Sehun’s expression on that one is concentrated as he’s trying to fix the angle, his tongue peaking out a little and his eyes not staring directly at the camera lens. Chanyeol just looks happy and relaxed.

“Oh I love this one,” he says. Sehun guessed he might. The other picture of that set is tugged in Sehun’s book. On that one, Chanyeol’s smile is softer, their cheeks are almost touching, and Sehun’s eyes are too bright and may tell too much.

Chanyeol gives Sehun a long hug before he folds his long legs into the back of his dad’s car and waves cheerfully.

Sehun couldn't know it then, but that was the last summer Chanyeol came to Wolpo-ri. His parents come the following year, and the year after that, but without their children, who, according to Chanyeol’s mom, grow up too fast.

Sehun and Chanyeol keep in touch at first, but Cyworld is replaced with Kakaotalk and Sehun and Chanyeol never add each other, and Sehun’s first email address dies and Chanyeol abandons his Facebook. By the time Sehun goes to college, he hasn’t talked to Chanyeol in three months and doesn’t search for what new social media he could possibly have.

Sehun wins three other photo competitions during high school, one with a picture of Chanyeol’s back against the backdrop of the ocean, which Chanyeol’s never seen. The last one leads to a partial scholarship to Busan’s Kyungsung university photography program.

As Sehun learns more about photography, and himself, he focuses more and more on people. He wins a few more insignificant contests, passes his military training and graduates at a loss for what the future holds. Unless he wants to spend the rest of his life taking family portraits for his entire small hometown, year after year of families growing and then shrinking, aging, he has to stay in the city.

At least Busan always feels connected to the ocean, and he loved the series he did in his final year, down in the docks. But the pile of fashion magazines he's bought for their cover photo has grown too much over time, and Sehun knows he wants to try something different. He wants more of what he felt when he interned with a local fashion brand digital team the summer before his graduation.

He moves to Seoul, misses the ocean that was always just around the corner, and fights to stay above the water of a fickle industry and too much competition. He feels like he’s drowning on dry land.

Objectively speaking, it's probably not so bad. He works part time in a small photo studio and still takes plenty of family pictures. He carefully curates his photography instagram account, focused on street fashion and maybe, just a little, on simply the streets of Seoul. He gets a few gigs here and there for big shopping malls and the like. He also somehow lands a really cool photoshoot for a small magazine focusing on local fashion where he takes pictures of an insanely beautiful model, Kim Jongin.

Somehow, Jongin, who is entirely too sweet and shy off-camera, a complete contrast to the aura he exudes in pictures, becomes his friend. He takes Sehun on guilty-pleasure fried chicken romps late at night, poses for a few of the pictures for both Sehun’s official portfolio and his instagram, and introduces Sehun to more of his (model) friends. Almost all of them, except Jongin, are younger than him in that circle and make Sehun feel like he’s wasted years of his life in college when these people bore the brunt of the “real” world already. Even Jongin hasn’t gone to the military yet, rushing, always rushing. Maybe Sehun is too level headed to throw himself into something completely, like this.

Sehun also makes friends with Junmyeon, the guy he’s renting a tiny apartment from and who takes him to fancy brunches at times and tries to bestow life knowledge onto him. He also gets him a job taking profile pictures for the management in the fancy consultancy firm he works for which pays far more than any of his other Seoul jobs together, at that point. So Sehun figures he could listen to Junmyeon sometimes.

Still it drains him more often than not, fighting for an elusive chance, for a tiny spot in the industry, always thinking of new things for his instagram to curate his brand. He makes careful effort to do his studio shoots as professionally and earnestly as possible, not slipping into complacency of thinking less of them. In all his other job, the ones he really wants, he has to appear almost brazen and confident enough in front of models and editors.

Sometimes he drives to Incheon, to the bay, and just breathes in salty and fish stenched water, tinted with the fuel of a big industrial port but still loud and familiar, and wishes to run or snap already. He feels stretched so thin and at the same time like he’s just floating in any direction the currents will take him. He's not sure where he even wants to aim for, not as much as he'd like. It makes it hard to have his feet firmly on the ground, not wobbly like after weeks on the sea?

Tonight, he only tends to walk the streets and take pictures in front of some of many Itaewon establishments. But he walks down a different street where people peter out and only a group around one single neon light remains. He has no luck getting anyone to pose for him and realizes, startled, that it’s a gay club he’s stumbled upon. He walks in, even though the bouncer gives his camera a weary look. Sehun probably shouldn’t but he gives the burly man the camera battery and a small smile.

He’s been to a gay club in Seoul before, with Youngho who he met through Jongin, just not this one. He really shouldn't expect to blend in, with an expensive camera hanging off his neck, but he's curious. He can just have a beer and leave.

People do mostly avoid him. Until someone bumps into him as he nurses his beer at a high chair by the bar. He turns a little and the man gasps.

“Sehunnie?” the man asks, a shocked shout over the loud music, and his eyes get very wide. Sehun almost, almost, forgot how beautiful and big they are, even more so in person than in pictures.

“Chanyeol....hyung?” he tags the honorific on, unsure. He’s always been a brat about it, but that was when he was a teenager. Now Chanyeol is closer to thirty than twenty.

“It’s really you! I can’t believe it,” and Chanyeol’s barreling into him, uncaring of his camera that digs uncomfortably into Sehun’s chest as Chanyeol squeezes him in a hug. “Fuck, how are you here?” Chanyeol’s shouting still, practically into his ear, and then he finally pulls away.

“I live here now,” Sehun says dumbly. Well, not here, in this club, but that much is probably obvious.

“I know that. I mean here in this club,” Chanyeol laughs, ecstatic.

Sehun can’t keep up, not really. Chanyeol knows? That Sehun lives in Seoul? Also Chanyeol’s dragging him somewhere? And Sehun has just met him for the first time after seven years. And technically Sehun maybe came out to him by being in this club, not that it matters. And Chanyeol’s fingers are around his wrist, pulling. He looks so good as he glances back, his hair pushed in a wave to one side, fashionable and sleek, his shoulders wide in a dark blue shirt, two buttons open. He’s gotten taller, they both did, but Chanyeol is still taller than Sehun. His legs are so long.

“Shit, wait,” Chanyeol halts near the exit. “Are you here with someone? I didn’t mean to pull you away from something, but it’s so loud and I want to catch up.” There’s a flash of uncertainty between his eyebrows.

“No, I’m alone,” Sehun rushes to say, and Chanyeol finally takes him in, just jeans and a hoodie with nothing underneath, too warm for the club though, and his camera around his neck. His mouth forms a soft, plush looking oh, then he shakes his head and gestures towards the door in question.

Sehun just nods.

Chanyeol stares even harder when they get out and the bouncer returns the battery to Sehun, unharmed, with a nod. Sehun stares back a little. Chanyeol’s legs are still bow shaped, but so long, so good in his tight jeans. His ears are very prominent with this slick hairstyle and his skin is smooth, looks paler under the neon lights than it looked under the harsh summer sun on a beach. Sehun could be wrong but he thinks Chanyeol might be wearing eyeliner.

Baekhyun wasn’t just an experiment then, Sehun thinks vaguely. This is the one thing they never talked about. And oh, he wants to take a picture of this Chanyeol, mature and broad and still wide eyed, handsome.

“Wait till Baekhyun sees you,” Chanyeol says then, and Sehun startles, half scared he’s said some of his thoughts out loud.

“Is he going to pop up out of thin air?” he asks instead, looking around.

“No, no, I'm gonna text him. His jeans are so tight he’ll feel the vibration right away.” Chanyeol laughs silly at that.

“You should talk,” Sehun says. Chanyeol's snigger is so pleased.

Sehun doesn’t think about what it means that Baekhyun is somewhere around and Chanyeol knows how tight his jeans are.

“Chanyeol, you better have not just lied to me so that I could come out here to stare at stars or some builshit, because that guy was really cute and there are no stars in Seoul. I swear if you’re drunk and hallucinating--”

Baekhyun stops talking abruptly and then does the same thing Chanyeol did, with no further shouting, giving Sehun a big hug even though he has to actually get on his tiptoes to do it properly.

“Fuck, I knew Seoul was too small, but am I glad for it once,” he says as he lets go then steps back and ruffles Sehun’s hair like he’s his real brother or something. Sehun glares a little, lips pressed together.

“It’s so good to see you and your perfect face again,” Baekhyun says. He is suddenly speaking in the same dialect Sehun’s family back home does, and Sehun didn’t really allow himself to feel homesick, but now he does, the feelings, jumbled, crushing into him.

“Right,” Chanyeol says, finally in a calmer voice, so deep, “I think we may have overwhelmed him.”

Baekhyun looks at Sehun like he’s guessed at least part of what Sehun’s feeling, and he nods, hooking an arm under Sehun’s own.

“Let’s get fast food and catch up,” he says, the dialect still strong, but he squeezes Sehun's forearm a little, and Sehun nods.

“Sounds great,” Chanyeol replies instead of him, flanking him from the other side and starting to pull them all back towards the busier part of Itaewon.

They get street food, sit on the low plastic chairs that are marginally comfortable only for Baekhyun, and Chanyeol and Baekhyun talk over each other.

“You’re lucky you’re cute too,” Baekhyun tells Sehun, going back to the guy he’s apparently been flirting with in the club, “hot too. I knew you’d grow up well,” Baekhyun adds, smug. Sehun blinks at him over his plastic cup of beer. “Oh, you know it,” Baekhyun reads his look, laughing approvingly.

“Baekhyun wasn’t really going to do anything with the guy anyway,” Chanyeol tells him next, “he has a crush.”

“Better than being married to my work,” Baekhyun says.

Chanyeol bursts out laughing. “You are a vocal coach for idols. You give lessons at all hours of day and night. And then go and sleep on the couch in their training room out of solidarity for your crush.”

Sehun blinks. “Do you want to date an idol?”

Sehun thought Baekhyun wanted to be an idol, but apparently instead he went on and studied music and vocal performance and is coaching others now. It’s kind of, well, it’s really cool in Sehun’s books.

“No, silly,” Baekhyun shakes his head vehemently, hair flying everywhere. “There is way too much hiding involved in that, and I’m way too big of a personality for it.”

“So humble,” Sehun says, because well, he feels at home when Baekhyun speaks, and that makes it even easier to not hold back.

Chanyeol almost upends their tiny plastic table as he laughs, his hands slapping the poor table too hard. “He’s just too loud to take places,” he says between peels of laughter.

“Oh my god, you ogre, be mindful of your giant limbs,” Baekhyun says, pulling at Chanyeol’s ear. Chanyeol just rolls his eyes and gently pushes him away.

Sehun… remembers them touching when they were teens, but very differently. He hasn’t ever seen them like this, silly and comfortable and fond, like long time friends. Sehun wonders how they found each other here in Seoul. Most likely they were just better at keeping in touch than he was.

“Anyway,” Baekhyun turns to Sehun again, “Kyungsoo is a manager. He commandeers a pack of seven boys in a boyband for a living and it’s very hot.”

Chanyeol mimes gagging. “Baekhyun wants to be commandeered,” he helpfully explains. Baekhyun just shrugs.

“Remember, Chanyeol, I know all your kinks,” he says serenely, and Chanyeol’s ears get so red Sehun is fascinated.

“Shut up,” Chanyeol says gruffly, then turns to Sehun. “Enough about him. How have you been? Is Seoul treating you well?”

“You said you knew I lived here?” Sehun blurts out instead of answering the question, his mind suddenly coming back to that moment. He grabs the last skewer on the plate they’re sharing, trying to not look like he’s too interested in the answer. Baekhyun shouts to order more, and Sehun feels terribly pampered, and like the smoke from the grill could be a bonfire on the beach where they’d grill meat on sticks.

“I follow your photography Instagram,” Chanyeol says like he’s not blowing Sehun’s mind out of the water. “You have Seoul in your profile info plus it’s not like I couldn’t recognize some of the streets you took pictures on.”

“I …” Sehun doesn’t know what to stay.

“He’s a stalker,” Baekhyun supplies. “That’s how he found me too when my phone got stolen and we lost touch. I’ve been telling him he should just message you too, but he’s been acting like a chicken.” Baekhyun throws his hands in the air then giggles when the beer sloshes out of the cup he’s been holding. Sehun abruptly realizes Baekhyun’s really drunk. How did he not notice before?

“I would … eventually,” Chanyeol replies, resigned and pouting. “I was just waiting for … the right opportunity,” he finishes, looking down and into his beer.

“I would have liked that,” Sehun lets himself admit. He isn’t really lonely, but it’s not like he would mind having more … people around, not to mention it’s Chanyeol and even Baekhyun.

“If I knew sooner,” Baekhyun points his finger at Chanyeol, but the whole gesture comes out more hilarious than threatening with the way he’s kind of swaying at all times now, and he doesn’t finish.

“I think he’s had enough,” Chanyeol murmurs conspiratorially at Sehun.

“I hear you,” says Baekhyun. “And Sehun you didn't really reply. You’ve been okay? Give me your phone,” he turns his palm up and sticks it out towards Sehun. Sehun does as told, and watches Baekhyun save his and Chanyeol’s numbers in and dial them both, then fumble through texting keysmash to both of them through kakaotalk. “There,” he says, jutting his chin up and returning the phone.

“It’s been okay,” Sehun says at last when Baekhyun watches him expectantly. “I work at this photo studio and freelance on the side and well,” he doesn’t know how to continue.

“Your street fashion pictures are so good,” Chanyeol compliments him. Sehun scratches at the short hair on his neck and doesn’t know what to say.

Baekhyun seems to fumble with his own phone a little then looks at them both. “I think you’re right. I have had enough.”

Chanyeol giggles. Sehun realizes he doesn't really even know what work Chanyeol’s so married to. But Chanyeol is already paying and then helping Baekhyun get up, too.

“Let’s get you home,” he says and turns to Sehun. “How are you getting to your place?”

Sehun checks the time. “Night bus,” he says when he sees it’s past midnight. Chanyeol scrunches his nose a little but then only nods and starts walking to the nearest bus stop. “We’ll drop you off and then I’ll put him into a taxi.”

“You don’t --” Sehun starts to say.

“Of course we will,” Baekhyun grumbles. Chanyeol has an arm around his shoulders but doesn’t seem to actually need to drag him.

“Where do you live? Is the bus really going to be okay?” Chanyeol asks, and Sehun only nods. He does live pretty close to the bus stop and won’t even have to change buses.

The bus stop seems to be just one street over now too, and they’re just approaching it when a bus comes around the corner.

“That’s …” he starts, and Chanyeol seems to realize what it means.

“Run?” he asks, and Sehun does because the idea of being in bed moderately soon is suddenly appealing. His shift starts at nine tomorrow and he wasn’t planning on drinking tonight, not really.

“Text when you get home,” Baekhyun shouts after him as he lengthens his step.

They’re laughing at his undignified bus catching abilities when Sehun looks out at them from the inside of it, as the bus passes them. Chanyeol’s waving, eyes crinkling, smile wide, and for some reason Sehun is reminded of the last summer he saw him, Chanyeol in the backseat on his way out of town. He grabs for his phone and sees Baekhyun’s saved himself as Baekhyun-hyung and Chanyeol as Chanyeollie and deeps breathly. He can’t believe all that just happened,and he shakes his head as he finally sinks into a bus seat.

Sehun is still on the bus when Chayeol texts him, a picture of Baekhyun drooling onto his shoulder in a taxi.

He’s such a lush.

To be fair Kyungsoo’s been busy so he was drinking away his sorrows tonight.

Text me when you get home.

And your home address so I know where you’re living.

Also we should get coffee sometimes.

Sehun almost forgets to get off the bus because he’s giggling at the picture still. Baekhyun who was happy to see him and was somehow very kind to him tonight, if Sehun thinks about it. He finally pushes open the door to his tiny flat open, takes a picture of his dark bed and sends it off to Chanyeol and Baekhyun.

I’m home,

Ready to pass out.

Sleep well, Sehunnie, Sehun finds in the chat window, just as he’s setting his alarm for the morning.

Chanyeol is working for a big civil engineering and architecture company. It takes him less than three days after their meeting in the bar to start texting Sehun about everything and anything. He particularly likes to rant at Sehun about the environmental impact of new construction projects and the terrible flaws of Seoul’s urban planning charter.

It’s overwhelming, not so much because Chanyeol talks about it like he trusts Sehun has any clue what he’s on about, but because he is picking up like there hasn’t been years of radio silence between them.

Chanyeol and Sehun only manage to schedule their coffee date in a week and a half since Chanyeol really is always at work. Sehun's excited to hang out with Baekhyun again too, having lunch with him twice over the week following their meeting at the club. After the second one, Baekhyun makes Sehun walk down the street to his job and gives him a tour of the SM Entertainment building like it’s nothing.

“Kyungsoo,” he shouts at one point after a shorter retreating man. The said man turns and Sehun has to give it to Baekhyun, he is hot. In that dark, imposing, big eyed competent way? He has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and looks sturdy and like he could kill someone at this moment, probably Baekhyun.

“This is Sehun, the talented dongsaeng of mine I was telling you about,” Baekhyun continues to speak like Kyungsoo doesn’t look way too on edge, and walks fast, maybe so that Kyungsoo doesn't run away. But then Kyungsoo looks at him, and his eyes soften. Sehun is not touching Baekhyun, but he still feels Baekhyun melt next to him anyway.

“Do Kyungsoo, Oh Sehun,” Baekhyun says, suddenly gentle too, and Kyungsoo actually shakes Sehun’s hand like some business man.

“Nice to meet you, Oh Sehun-shi,” he says, then he narrows his eyes and looks at Baekhyun. “Baekhyun, I’m busy.”

Baekhyun laughs. “I know I know. I’ll come by with coffee later,” he adds, half asking.

“No need,” Kyungsoo says, turning on his heels.

He goes to open a door down the corridor when Baekhyun shouts, “But I want to, after him,” and Kyungsooo turns around, smiling almost.

“No sugar, Baekhyun, I’m not a kid.”

Baekhyun beams.

“Hyung,” Sehun starts saying.

“Don’t speak.” Baekhyun shushes him. “I know. Plus I’m about to be awesome, and you don’t want me to change my mind,” he says.

Sehun blinks, and then Baekhyun is marching him to another door and knocking on it. Sehun just manages to glimpse a part of the door plaque that he’s pretty sure reads art director.

“What?” Sehun starts saying, panicking a little. He’s wearing old converse shoes with the heels pushed down because he hates the back of most of his shoes, and old, washed out jeans.

“Kim Kibum,” Baekhyun says as he walks in and drags Sehun after him too. “I’m bringing an innocent lamb to your altar.”

“No one you know is innocent, Baekhyun,” a man says from behind his desk.

This is a big office, with a couch and a coffee table on the side and a big board with various pictures of idols in the most bizarre outfits on it. There are framed album jackets, and the man, Kim Kibum, has pink hair. Sehun has heard of Kim Kibum, the newly appointed, quite young, art director for SM Entertainment. He reads the fashion magazines he buys for the covers.

“I’m not a lamb,” he manages to say as he bows respectfully.

Kibum eyes him. “I don’t know, I can see the baby fluff about you,” he says, and motions to the couch for Sehun to sit.

“He’s a photographer, a really good one. I'm told he won some competitions. Also has a pretty cool Instagram,” Baekhyun rattles off. “You should size him up, give him a life lesson or too.”

“Dinner deliveries, for a month,” Kibum points at Baekhyun who only laughs.

“I’m not McDonalds delivery,” Baekhyun says back, waves a hand carelessly. “Got to go, a vocal lesson. You can show Sehun the way out, yeah.” Kim Kibum just waves right back at him and sits opposite of Sehun.

“He didn’t tell you to bring your portfolio, did he?” he asks. Sehun shakes his head, still trying to wrap his mind around this.

“I have a website too,” he says.

“Well. Let’s see it then.”

An hour after Sehun’s been led out of the office and spent a long time attempting to process his next week's official appointment to do some test shots, he writes Baekhyun the longest kakao message of his life, thanking him.

Small town friends help each other, Baekhyun only writes back.

So Sehun texts Chanyeol next.

What food does Baekhyun like the best?

Oh, he’s a glutton. Pizza is always good, Chanyeol replies.

Chanyeol. Pizza?

With pineapples on it

That’s gross. But also I’m in no position to judge if that's what he wants, that's what he gets. But really anything fancier?

Tangsuyuk? What did he do?

He took me to see SM art director!!!!!

Brat

Well. Kind of. Amazing. Brat.

He might have gotten me a job!

If you got the job, it’s by yourself, i’m sure,

He just used the fact he charms the pants off everyone eventually to get you a job interview

Don’t let him fool your pants off too, Sehun, you know better.

I call dibs on your pants if I have to.

What

🤣

So celebratory dinner tonight?

Chanyeol skips to a new topic while Sehun’s mind is still reeling from the dibs comment. He’ll gladly take the topic shift though since he has no clue how to react to his pants being bargained for.

You don't even have time for coffee plus there's nothing to celebrate yet.

I don't want to jinx it.

Then a strategic meeting with jajangmyeon.

But like late night

10 in the evening, your place, take out

“We’re still doing the coffee next week,” Chanyeol says when Sehun lets him in at ten thirty at night. He looks exhausted, and he’s wearing a full suit and dress shoes. He winces a little as he takes them off.

“New shoes on a long day, not ideal,” he murmurs. “But anyway I have the coffee on my official schedule, so it’s happening.”

“Okay,” Sehun agrees. He feels a little guilty but also he wants to meet Chanyeol when he can, so. It will also be before his meeting at SM, and it hopefully will make him forget about his nerves.

Chanyeol seems to finally take a breath as he looks around, wondering where to put the chicken. “Uhm.”

“It’s small, but it works,” Sehun says, fast, and points to the small low table that is the only one in the flat, meant for everything.

Chanyeol nods, shrugs out of his jacket, handing the noodles over, and then slides down to sit with his back to Sehun’s bed.

“There is beer too,” he adds. Sehun already knows. He drops the plastic bags to the table and grabs the camera. He can’t help it, the contrast, Chanyeol, so posh and sleek, but with the top button of his gray shirt and also sleeve buttons undone, long legs under his table, suit jacket on his bed, in this tiny apartment. He takes a picture just as Chanyeol looks up at him, wide eyed and a bit confused. Then he grins.

“Hello, old friend.”

It’s not the same camera, it’s not even analogue, but if Chanyeol can’t tell, Sehun will not let him know. He takes a picture of him grinning too, and then puts it down and away.

“Rough day?” he asks as he starts to unpack the food, being a bit polite in this at least even though he’s stopped using honorifics with Chanyeol again.

“You could say that,” Chanyeol nods, splitting apart his chopsticks and digging in. “So you dazzled the SM art director?” he asks only three mouthfuls in, and was he starving?

“It was surreal. The whole building, everything. Even Kyungsoo is surreal and he’s just a manager.”

Chanyeol chuckles at the mention of Kyungsoo, and takes a swing out his beer.

“And then, there I was,” Sehun continues, still in disbelief it’s a real story and not some fever dream from last night, “and Baekhyun was gone and I thought the guy, Kim-shi, will just like look at my pictures, and I don’t know, laugh uncomfortably, give me some generic advice to keep working hard at best.” He drops his chopsticks and puts his head into his palms. Chanyeol pinches his side and he jerks, surprised, heart racing.

“See, it’s real,” Chanyeol chuckles at him. “He offered you a job?”

“I mean, he asked me to come shoot some promo things for them. To try it out. See if we would fit.” Sehun breathes deeply, remembering the white walls, the colors on the many pictures all around them, the bright pink hair. “He said it might not be what I’m looking for exactly but it could be a start. Like I’d say no,” he laughs, and it sounds a little hysterical in his own ears.

“I showed him my website portfolio and he looked through my Instagram for a really long time. I think,” it’s incredulous to think, “he kind of really liked at least some of my stuff.”

“As he should,” Chanyeol nods. He’s done eating. Sehun opens another beer for the both of them and pushes his half eaten noodles in front of Chanyeol.

“I already ate at like seven. Got hungry.”

“I didn’t have lunch,” Chanyeol admits. Sehun’s eyes widen and Chanyeol only shrugs “I've actually been pretty good about finding time to eat comparably.” He sighs. “I'll regret this when I’ll try to sleep later.”

Sehun slides lower under the table, so he can lean his neck against the edge of his bed and look at his ceiling.

“How is this our life?” he asks.

“This?” Chanyeol asks, mimicking Sehun at slumping down against the bed and pressing their thighs together.

“No late night swims, no crash of the waves, not eating lunches, pink haired men dressing idols in Gucci, you in a fancy suit.”

“Admit it, I look good in it,” Chanyeol says, sounding smug. “And you sound like an old man, missing a simple life,” he chuckles.

Sehun turns his face to the side to look at him. Chanyeol does the same and they’re so close. The light in the room sucks, prickly and right above them.

Chanyeol’s lips lift just lighty, his throat bobs and he grabs Sehun’s wrist between them.

“Chasing our dreams?” he half asks, answering Sehun’s initial question. “But I miss the ocean too. It must be harder for you.”

Maybe it is. Sehun says nothing, and instead thinks that with Chanyeol sharing his body heat with him this late at night, he can almost hear the waves and it’s not so bad.

Chanyeol, it seems, is a responsible adult because he finishes his second beer, calls himself a taxi because he left his car at work and leaves before midnight.

Chasing dreams sounds so grand. Sehun just didn't want to take family portraits for living.

Next Tuesday, Sehun is weighed down with his camera equipment and nerves when he settles at an outside table of a coffee shop. Chanyeol changed the coffee meet-up location to closer to SM and Sehun is immensely glad right now.

“Hey,” Chanyeol says from above him, just as he carefully drops his backpack to a chair next to him.

Sehun cranes his neck up to look at him. Despite the summer creeping in on them already, Chanyeol’s in a full suit yet again, in a deep navy rather than the plain black from the other night. He’s wearing sunglasses and an amused smile on his lips.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll order for us inside.”

Sehun likes sweet stuff like bubble tea and lattes with flavors, but it might be a long day. “Iced Americano,” he says.

Chanyeol comes back with two of them and the paper straws that thaw almost as fast as the ice in the coffee.

“For the turtles,” he says, and Sehun rolls his eyes, a little, just because he feels like he should. He doesn’t use the plastic ones either anymore.

“Nervous?” Chanyeol asks as he sits down opposite him.

“Nice of you to bring it up,” Sehun deadpans, then sighs a little. “More than I hoped for.”

“You’ll be great,” Chanyeol says, forever optimistic. “I’ve seen your stuff. You can absolutely do this.”

Sehun’s studied SM artistic directions for all their active and some of the famous inactive groups in the past week. He went over the very vague concept direction he got from Kim Kibum several times, he has notes and ideas on directions he doesn’t know he’ll be even allowed to voice, and has worked himself into a frenzy.

“About that. I have questions,” he says now instead, because he does and it might distract him, a little.

“How exactly did you find my Instagram?” His handle isn’t his name, it’s a stupid pun he thought up long ago and never changed even when he cleaned up his profile and started using it for photography only. “Also Baekhyun mentioned winning photography contests when he took me to see Kim-shi, but I never told him that, so how does he know? It’s not like they were very big or prestigious.”

Chanyeol just shrugs, clearly trying to appear cool. He’s very interested in his coffee cup though. It’s plastic. “You know us normal people are not all uncultured. We go to galleries and exhibitions and such?”

Sehun sips his drink and this time his raised eyebrow is very genuine. When Chanyeol doesn’t continue he asks, “Like which ones?”

It’s not like Chanyeol, looking posh and put together, wouldn’t fit into some of the galleries in Seoul.

“A colleague dragged me to your school’s end year projects exhibit, you know for arts faculties. His sister had a sculpture on display.”

“In Busan?” Sehun is very surprised. But really he shouldn’t be, the only other option is Chanyeol seeing the picture from his first year in college, when the art contest finalist exhibit was in Seoul for like a day, three years ago. So.

“Yeah, while we were on a business trip. It was your fishing port of Busan pictures. They were really awesome, Sehun.” Chanyeol sounds so genuine. “Honestly, you are so good at pictures like that. It’s what I like the most on your Instagram too. When you clearly just catch people doing things.” Sehun only looks at him while Chanyeol gesticulates wildly.

That exhibit was over a year ago. It ran for quite some time after the end of the school year, after he graduated. He’s actually sold a couple of those pictures too and it made him as happy as working on the project itself.

“Okay, but that just means you saw pictures taken by some Oh Sehun.”

“I knew they were yours,” Chanyeol says like he’s saying ‘don’t be ridiculous.’ “It said it was your graduation project and that fit, plus I don’t know. It was clear. And there was a small artist intro in the pamphlet.”

Sehun’s almost forgotten about it. “Ah, I did list my social media for that.” And the University listed his “achievements.”

“OHthebeach,” Chanyeol chuckles. His ears are a little red, like him admitting he saw Sehun's graduation project is somehow embarrassing. But his eyes are firmly back on Sehun. “So I started checking it regularly. And then suddenly, here you were, in Seoul. And taking pictures of street fashion.”

Chanyeol could have reached out any time, for a year now.

“I don’t know why I didn’t message you sooner,” Chanyeol murmurs, then loudly sips the last of his coffee, “I wanted to. So like. I’m glad we met again!”

“We were just like, summer school friends or something,” Sehun says, slowly.

“I should’ve kept in touch in the first place,” Chanyeol amends.

“I didn’t either,” Sehun says because it’s true. He has no sound explanation for why he let the contact fizzle out, maybe easier than he should have.

“Well, now we are here, so it’s all good,” Chanyeol says cheerfully. “So we should go out drinking or something. But now you should probably go to your appointment.”

Sehun checks the time. He’s not late or anything, but he probably shouldn’t even come close to being so.

“Yeah,” he nods. As they get up, he takes the camera out of his backpack on impulse and takes another picture of Chanyeol just as he’s slipping his sunglasses back on top of his nose.

“Oh, will I be on your Instagram too?” he asks, teasing. “Should I pose?”

“Last I remember, you’re really bad at it,” Sehun points out, and Chanyeol laughs.

“True. I am no Kim Jongin,” Chanyeol jokes, pretending, still, to flip his hair over his shoulder even if it’s slicked neatly into place off the side again.

Sehun startles. “You really are a stalker, huh?” he says at last, and Chanyeol shrugs, grabbing Sehun’s bag with his tripod for him and starting to walk with him.

“He’s in more of your pictures than most and you tag him. Plus, he’s gorgeous. Is he your boyfriend or something?” he asks, nudging Sehun’s side with an elbow. I mean, he’s a real model, right? What a catch, Sehun.”

“Or something?” Sehun drawls.

Chanyeol just wiggles an eyebrow. “This is Seoul and you’re young and wild, no?”

“He’s a friend,” Sehun replies at last. “Met him shortly after moving here. We’re almost the same age.”

“Hmmm,” Chanyeol looks skeptical, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk still. “Not your type then?”

“I haven’t really been dating ... or anything,” Sehun shrugs, “Jongin or others.”

Chanyeol stops then, looks down like he suddenly feels contrite about prying. Only probably not because they’re in front of the SM building.

“Could I though? Post a picture of you?” Sehun asks to change the subject, and to delay going in, just a little. “I mean, I’ve been mostly taking them to get used to you in something else then flip flops and neon swim shorts but.”

That makes Chanyeol laugh loudly. “Of course you can. I told you already, didn’t I? That I’ll model for you.” He winks.

Sehun just shakes his head. “Too bow shaped legs,” he shoots back.

Chanyeol pretends to be offended, looking down at his legs like he can’t see it. “Go before I change my mind, you menace. My confidence has suffered enough already.”

“Impossible,” Sehun waves him off. “You know you look good in suits.” And then he grabs his tripod and jogs towards the door.

“You like it!” Chanyeol shouts after him.

Sehun takes pictures for hours. He thinks he eats something that one of the idols comes to give him. Kim Kibum comes and goes from the room, there is staff milling about, and the kids he’s shooting, because that’s what they feel like to him, change clothes just about a million times. Stylists try several combinations of everything, jackets on, off, something in between, fluffy sweaters then naked chests, jewelry, accessories, solo shots, groups shots. It’s never ending. They let him adjust poses or even clothes sometimes and idols this young are interesting to work with, eager to please, and trained well to follow instructions.

It is thrilling if he has a moment to examine his own emotions.

His head buzzes when finally someone calls the end of it. Kim Kibum is already going through his pictures, still rough and unedited. Sehun realizes the headache may be from the fact he drank too little and spent too much time around the strong lights they used. He will need to pack up.

“So do you think you could do this again?” Kim Kibum asks. Sehun sits on a chair next to him, breathing deeply, in and out, and watches as the other man pulls several pictures to a folder he’s created on the side, showing him others he’s liked.

“Yes, just maybe give me half an hour to hydrate,” Sehun says.

He’s sized up and kind of smirked at. “Maybe not today,” Kim Kibum tells him at last. “We should keep at least a pretence of normal working hours on your first day. But it can happen.”

Chasing dreams, Sehun remembers.

“I’m young, I can take it,” he says what his aunt used to say at the patbingsu stand when the heat was the worst and there were ten too many customers.

“Then come sign the contract tomorrow.”

Chanyeol just sends him like a hundred celebratory gifs when Sehun messages him. Baekhyun intercepts them with his own kind of smug ones.

It’s not an employment contract, just a freelance, order-based one, but it’s huge to Sehun and the money isn’t half bad either. He thinks of possibly having to quit his studio job at some point, of getting more of his own equipment, of how he’s going to drag it to future shoots. The ink isn’t dry yet and he already has a schedule for a few more shoots and a company issued badge.

Baekhyun takes him to lunch afterwards and drinks soju with him mid-day. Sehun has no plans, just in case, for the rest of the day, and Baekhyun’s two students, from the same group, cancel on him due to some schedule mess ups.

“Let’s get dinner too,” Sehun says, when they just get out of the lunch place. “I owe you meat.”

They’re kind of drunk by the time they choose the next place to eat, and Sehun texts Jongin and Soojung is suddenly there too, and Seulgi, a dance teacher Baekhyun invites because Sehun needs to get to know more people to babysit him while he’s in SM, apparently.

“How are you drunk at six in the evening,” Jongin wonders at him. “You can hold your alcohol so much better than me.”

“We’re celebrating,” Baekhyun shouts and goes about making friends with Sehun’s friends. Chanyeol doesn’t come before eight, when the owner is eyeing their loud table with suspicion. He’s with Kyungsoo onto whom Baekhyun latches immediately.

“I figured he could be the one to make sure he gets home tonight because Baekhyun’s not going to be the only one needing help,” Chanyeol giggles as he scoots to sit next to Sehun. “Baekhyun sent videos.”

“Let’s go to noraebang,” Baekhyun suggests loudly from his new spot against Kyungsoo’s shoulder, when Chanyeol and Kyungsoo have barely finished eating.

“He wants to show off,” Chanyeol whispers to Sehun, “only he’s so drunk I’m not sure he can.”

“I suck at singing,” Sehun pouts.

“Nah it’ll be fine, I’ll duet with you,” Chanyeol says, patting his thigh under the table. “We can be Baekhyun's wingmen. Let the poor man in love shine.”

“I think Kyungsoo likes him back,” Sehun says. He’s met Kyungsoo exactly two times, but he’s letting Baekhyun do whatever it is he’s doing with Kyungsoo’s fingers and looking way too fond.

Chanyeol only snorts at that. “Don’t tell Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol also pays for the dinner Sehun was supposed to pay for. And for their room at noraebang. He sings with Sehun, and Sehun just lip syncs from the second line onwards. They all end up in the heap on the big couch, sleepy and various stages of drunk.

“This is an experience,” Jongin says, looking around at them.

“You are getting too old for this,” Kyungsoo nods, staring pointedly at Baekhyun and Chanyeol.

“Kyungsoo, we’re not your kids,” Baekyun sighs. Sehun snuggles closer under Chanyeol’s arm, with his nose in his neck, not sure how he ended up there. Chanyeol wears a really nice perfume and is comfortable. His suit jacket is gone and his thin shirt is really soft to the touch and cool, despite the stuffy room. It’s nice and pleasing on his heated skin.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” Chanyeol asks him, and Sehun hums in assent.

“But only an afternoon shift at the studio. Wanted to go shoot for myself in the morning.”

“I don’t think you’re going,” Chanyeol laughs, and it rumbles in his chest. Sehun places a hand over it. Chanyeol only chuckles.

“Are you an affectionate drunk, Sehunnie?” They’ve drunk together, secretly, that last summer, but Sehun was never like this. Chanyeol never really let him.

“Only towards well-formed chests,” Sehun deadpans.

“How lucky I am,” Chanyeol laughs.

Sehun realizes this is not the most mature thing to do just because he signed a contract. But it’s also been the first really, truly stupid thing he’s done since he started living in Seoul. He thinks he’s timed it well, when he finds himself in the taxi with Chanyeol, who just lets him slumber on him. He’s probably safe.

“You should stay the night,” Sehun mumbles as Chanyeol takes his socks off in his apartment. Chanyeol only hums and proceeds to make him take his slacks and shirt off as well. He wanted to dress appropriately for the occasion. Kibum, who was there for the beginning of the paperwork, wore ripped jeans with almost all his thighs sticking out of them.

“I have a morning meeting at the city planning office and need fresh clothes early on. It’ll be better to sleep in my own bed,” Chanyeol replies just about the moment Sehun realizes he’s just in his boxers and Chanyeol is pushing him onto the bed. Chanyeol should pinch him again to assert this is reality.

Still, Sehun tries to pull on him, to make him stay, here or in his bed he doesn’t know, but he has no strength left.

“Sorry,” he mumbles when Chanyeol tucks him in like he’s a baby and it won’t be warm at night. Vaguely he wonders why Chanyeol even came when he had important stuff to do in the morning. That wasn’t very … responsible.

“I wanted to celebrate with you,” Chanyeol laughs. Sehun might have said something aloud. “Stop scolding me when you’re this drunk. I’m your hyung.”

Sehun presses his lips together and scrunches his eyebrows in distaste. “Not a kid anymore,” he only says.

Chanyeol sighs and pushes hair off Sehun’s forehead. “Definitely not a kid. A young man with wonderful prospects. Very handsome.”

Sehun snorts then falls asleep.

In the morning, Sehun’s head is hurting, but not as much as it could’ve been when he thinks about the amount of soju he had. Chanyeol must have made him drink water last night, since there is a glass in his sink. He drinks more of it and actually manages a quick walk around the neighborhood with his camera to clear his head a little.

The picture he posts on his IG though is the one he sneak-took the night in front of the gay club, Chanyeol in profile, wearing his dark blue shirt and tight jeans, relaxed and vibrating in the dark and neon lights.

I’m honored, Chanyeol texts him.

Really, whoa, this picture.

Also does the fact I have no clue you took this make YOU the stalker

You gave me blanket permission

And tell me which IG is yours. I’ll follow you on my private one

Chanyeol’s Instagram is pictures of his family, his family’s dog that he seems to have some feud going on with, his selcas, and some of the ocean; beaches, rocks and sometimes just peeks of water among buildings or trees. They’re scattered throughout as if stolen from short trips, or even work-related travel. Some were definitely taken through a train window. It makes Sehun think of them as teenagers with ankles and butts in the water at night all over again. It’s really irrational. It’s not like Sehun hasn’t seen a picture of the waterfront since he left his hometown. He has plenty of just his own.

But it’s like his teenage summer weeks with Chanyeol conditioned him, more than anything else, to connect Chanyeol with the ocean, not only in images but in sound, the smell and the taste, the texture of the sand underneath his toes. Maybe he’s just conditioned himself for melancholy. He wants to roll his eyes at himself.

Instead he keeps scrolling down Chanyeol’s feed, wondering if any of the pictures are taken close by Wolpo-ri, if Chanyeol was ever tempted to just go back as Sehun is, every day. Like Baekhyun is, at least sometimes, when he calls Sehun up and talks about his favorite foods from his mom and his favorite rock on the beach.

They could go back, any time, just for a visit, but there never seems to be enough time, or it might just make things worse. Sehun suspects sometimes that if he went back home for more than a stolen night during holidays, he might never come back to Seoul. He’d just stay there, sitting on the pier, watching the seasons wash away around him.

It takes Sehun another month to come to terms with the fact he really has to quit his job at the photo studio. It’s his only truly stable income, but things are changing for him, and fast. He does many test photoshoots for SM trainees and groups, pictures that might not be used until months later, or never, or last minute promo shots the agency needs.

Word has spread that he works for SM. Well, he put the fact on his website, but he also knows the word must have gotten around because no one just goes on his website to check out his resume of their own volition. But now there are other offers. He takes all the jobs he can and it’s a lot closer to what he’s always wanted, but the hours are crazy and unpredictable. He knows something has to give. And it is his photo studio job.

“It will work out,” Chanyeol tells him when Sehun calls him late at night. Sehun has talked to him over the phone more than he’s seen him in the past month. It’s mostly due to them being busy but. It’s probably good because he remembered most of the drunk contract celebration and he thought he could control his face more, but he felt himself blushing the next time he met Chanyeol, hardly able to look at him properly. He could barely touch a beer in front of him too, when they met for late night food at the Han River, thinking of how he sprawled all over Chanyeol and complimented his chest and … stuff.

“The owner told me the same thing,” he says now, on the phone. “that I was too good for him. But that if I ever needed to, I should come see him again, and he’d give me work if he’s able to.” The owner hired him over email, a week before Sehun got to Seoul and paid his health insurance and into his pension plan.

“Ah,” Chanyeol says quietly and nothing more. Sehun swallows and sinks deeper into his mattress.

“Hey, Chanyeol, does your offer still stand? About the car?” Chanyeol’s offered it many times, for drives, for grocery shopping, for lagging equipment. He said he prefers public transport in the morning anyway and that he can drop off the keys for Sehun any time. Sehun hasn’t taken him up on the offer yet. He’s been tempted to, though. For a while.

“Ohhh, yes. What do you need it for?” Chanyeol sounds eager.

“I want to drive to Incheon. I know I could take the metro, but …”

“When do we go?” Chanyeol asks like he has all the time in the world, and Sehun doesn’t think he would mind the company.

Sehun likes the industrial port, or the parts of it he can get to, but Wolmido is close by and Chanyeol has luck finding a parking place. They walk over and sit on the benches on the pier.

“This is nothing like your Wolpo-ri,” Chanyeol says, looking around. It’s clearly not his first time here, he knew exactly where to get bubble tea, but he’s eyeing the pier curiously. It’s so warm even after dark and there are many shops still open behind them, with colorful light displays and loud guests. But the ocean smells here, strongly, and that is what Sehun likes.

“I might be a bit more dramatic than I like to admit,” Sehun says, sipping loudly on his bubble tea. Chanyeol throws his arm around him and laughs.

“How so?”

“It’s the first place I visited after moving to Seoul, when I missed home,” Sehun explains. He thinks Chanyeol won’t really care about his dramatics. At the time, he thought of the Busan port, the time he spent there in his final year of university, and how it felt like home away from home, watching fishermen come back with their haul. The Incheon port is different, but Sehun still stuck to coming here.

“When was the last time you were home?” Chanyeol only asks.

“Seollal.”

The ocean was cold, air salty, humid, and it was windy. His whole family walked across the beach and he went on a small hike with his dad and his brother. His mom packed him as much food as he could take back with him on the train. He still hasn’t touched the camera roll from then, thinking he’d leave it for when he really needed to feel like he’s back there. At this pace, he isn’t sure he’ll make it back for Chuseok.

“I can’t imagine not being fed my mom’s food at least once every two weeks,” Chanyeol muses. Sehun just hums. Baekhyun says Chanyeol’s mom makes the best kimchi spaghetti, but Sehun hasn’t had a chance to go, even if Chanyeol mentioned taking him several times.

“So do you still feel guilty about quitting your job?” Chanyeol asks when Sehun doesn’t say more. He knows Sehun’s usually chattier.

“And freaked out,” Sehun admits. Sehun is glad Chanyeol understands the guilt too, over quitting a job. He’s sure the studio owner will find a replacement, but he’d given Sehun a chance, and now he’ll have to train someone new. Junmyeon would tell him that he should think about himself, but it doesn't make the feeling go away, however unnecessary.

Chanyeol presses closer to him. Sehun’s finished his bubble tea and has nothing to do with his hands. He doesn't feel like digging for his phone and playing with it.

“You know, it’s my job to push for environmentally sound solutions, for the more innovative ones, to suggest where we could do better when planning projects and stuff,” Chanyeol says, seemingly unsequitor.

Sehun does know. Chanyeol is passionate about his job. Talks about it a lot. Sehun catches himself understanding much more than he imagined he ever would these days.

“And like, I’m so happy I get to do this because I wasn’t sure anyone would want to hire me for that, even in these times, even as I focused on it during masters and did an internship at this firm,” Chanyeol continues. Sehun likes it so much that he can tell Chanyeol whatever, admit his worries and he doesn’t only get encouragement but a piece of Chanyeol back in return. He can be vulnerable because Chanyeol opens up and is vulnerable too.

“Not many like idealism when it costs money,” Sehun says.

He could rant about fast fashion and labor exploitation, but by the nature of his job, he’s kind of culprit to it all. Chanyeol is surprisingly big on ideals, and environment. Like he never grew out of his wonder over all the life hiding on the rocks where Sehun took him during summers. Like he decided not to. Instead he wants to protect it.

“Something like that,” Chanyeol laughs. “Anyway,” he trudges on, determined, “so, this is my job, right? But I still feel like I’m going to get fired when I push for something new, or when our department has to put our foot down about something that will cost money or influence the design, change the margin.”

Sehun doesn't even have to be fired, they just won’t call him next time. And there won’t even be any noble reason like saving the planet for it.

“But I still do it,” Chanyeol says, earnest. “I know it’s scary, but ...”

“Are you bragging?” Sehun asks, wanting to lighten the mood, to tease, but then he backpedals. “I mean, what you do is awesome.”

“I was just trying to say,” Chanyeol huffs, amused, “that I get the feeling of freaking out, Sehunnie,” and he kicks Sehun’s foot.

“Still at least if they fire you, it will be because you were trying to do a good thing,” Sehun whines. “I can just fuck up and never shoot another fashion picture in Seoul. The scene is so frighteningly small, somehow.” The gossip travels fast, and he’s meeting the same people more often than he thought possible.

“Everyone fucks up,” Chanyeol says. “Plus you are actually like one of the most level headed people, I know. I can tell you’d be a no-nonsense pro at your job.”

Sehun shakes his head.

“Do you need receipts?” Chanyeol asks, teasing. “Look, you text me to eat lunch almost every work day, ever since I came to your apartment on breakfast only,” he starts counting on his fingers.

“You constantly try to save me from ordering stupidly expensive costumes for a Halloween party that is still months away. You invest the money you earn into your camera equipment, wisely, instead of spending it all on yourself. But you consider the right things to buy, very carefully. Come on, I know you do because I am now capable of recognizing different cameras and lenses by proxy.” This point earns two fingers on Chanyeol’s count.

“You told Baekhyun to man up and ask Kyungsoo out two weeks after you met Kyungsoo, and did it enough times since then and so confidently that Baekhyun actually finally did it,” Chanyeol sniggers now, though a little bitterly. Sehun knows he’s tried to get Baekhyun do the same for ages and pretends to be offended it only happened ‘because of Sehun.’

Chanyeol stops counting on his fingers now that he’s run out of those on his free hand, the one not squeezing Sehun’s shoulders. “Like you have a pretty good eye for these kinds of things, I would say.”

“Those are all such random things to judge my professionalism by,” Sehun says, but lightly. He kind of gets the point and is pleased a little that Chanyeol thinks this of him. He is also a little mortified at how much time they clearly have been spending together, even if not always in person.

“I’m just saying,” Chanyeol stresses, “you are good at your job, but you are also down to earth enough that I believe you won’t get sucked into something that will destroy you. For the minor hiccups on the road, you have people to catch you.” He pokes Sehun’s thigh, hard then. “Now stop fishing for compliments. Plus, I hear there isn’t anyone else who does family portraits in your hometown. You could surf all summer, god knows I miss you not looking so pasty.”

“Because you’d see me enough, if I surfed in Wolpo-ri all summer, to judge my improving levels of pastiness,” Sehun snickers.

“Hey, as long as you have a couch for me to crash on, I’ll camp there on the weekends,” Chanyeol says defensively, sounding like he could really believe it.

“Working on your laptop and not seeing the sun all day?”

“I’m not that bad,” Chanyeol whines.

And Chanyeol isn’t, not always at least. But Sehun wonders if any of them could even go back to the slow syrupy rhythm of a small town on the shore, still hot air in the summer and empty streets of the winter.

“Now tell me why we took a car and not the metro,” Chanyeol says as he stands up and sticks his hand out to pull Sehun up too. Sehun lets him do it and falls into step with him, heading back. It is a work night.

“I like to drive across the bridges,” Sehun admits. “You know across the Yeongjong Bridge and then back across the Incheon Bridge.”

“Ohhh,” Chanyeol says excited. “Fancy,” he says. “Also I like it, creating new Seoul traditions.”

Sehun feels like Chanyeol just reached right into his brain or something, way too understood.

“Yeongjong Bridge is so cool. I mean, it’s the longest self-anchored suspension bridge in the world,” Chanyeol continues, extremely excited, and launches into an extensive lecture on the wonders of its construction.

Sehun, only a little guilty about hearing him more than truly listening, lets it wash over him, Chanyeol’s deep voice coming in waves as he narrates all the way to the car and across the bridge.

The thing is, the rumor that spreads is not that Sehun takes pictures for SM. It’s that Sehun was the first person Kim Kibum hired as the new art director, off the bat. Sehun wonders if he should try to rebuke it, if he should say he was just lucky, when he actually hears people talking about it just meters away from him, but he never manages to. He doesn’t do anything to spread it, or confirm it, and hopes over the time it’ll be his own work that will speak for him enough that the rumor becomes inconsequential. New gossip emerges all the time, and many rumors are forgotten before the end of the week, but hopefully he’ll be left with a few recurring clients of his own when it fizzles out. And for that he is going to shamelessly milk the situation and work the best he can.

So he takes all the jobs he is offered. He gets to take pictures for a smaller magazine fashion editorial, and then takes on a fast reshoot of something a larger magazine needs at the last minute for an August issue. They’re his first two jobs for the fashion magazine industry. Then, even more shockingly, he gets hired to take pictures of the fall collection of a small upcoming Korean brand focused on sustainable fashion.

When he is offered that job, he texts Chanyeol, still in shock.

That’s like, so close to my dream job. You need to come pinch me

Chanyeol does come, even if it’s two days later, early in the morning, with breakfast and a work meeting to get to in twenty minutes.

Jongin is on that job, and he shoots Sehun a thumbs up after like every picture and praises him so much that Sehun wishes he’d stop before it annoys someone and they’ll never be able to work together again. It’s also cute and makes him relax, if he’s honest with himself. The brand designer lets Sehun voice his opinions freely, openly seeks them, and actively works with him on the shoot concept, and Sehun’s head spins.

There are jobs which aren’t so stellar. He can deal with terrible locations and arrogant stylists. But when the fashion is just bad and they try to make him responsible for it looking so in pictures, or when the client is horrible to the staff and the models,those are the days Sehun hates most. Still he doubles down on effort and barely sleeps, edits the final pictures and meets clients for concept discussion, and edits some more when he isn’t shooting, and barely has time for his Instagram that he doesn't want to give up on.

A new department store somehow expects him to even style his models. He’s caught off guard by the request, voiced only when he’s on location, and completely fails at it. As a result, he makes Sejeong teach him afterwards. Sejeong is funny and resourceful, does both great make-up and styling. She decided they were meant to be friends when they met at one of Sehun’s early jobs in Seoul, and stuck by it. He spends all his free time one weekend doing her makeup and hair and learning about brushes and techniques. He knows what the trends are, that comes with the territory, but being able to create them is a whole other level of skill.

“You owe me a drink,” Sejeong just says at the end of the weekend and gives him a kiss. The lipstick he applied stays on his cheek and she laughs and leaves. He’s kind of exhausted. That’s how Junmyeon finds him, still in the doorway, holding take-out and wearing a sweater vest, on a warm late August night.

“You haven’t replied to my text in three days. I came to investigate,” he says, and his forehead, impossibly, has a small crease of worry in it.

“I’m alive. There are no decaying corpses in your apartment,” Sehun sighs and lets Junmyeon in.

The take-out is a chicken salad because it’s late and they should at least eat something healthy. Junmyeon also brought some vitamin drinks and fresh orange juice for Sehun’s breakfast.

Sehun feels extra guilty about not messaging him back. He wanted to, but then he got swept into yet another last minute shoot at SM, and he had rushed and never did.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so busy,” he says and takes a picture of Junmyeon kneeling at his coffee table, his socks mismatched and his frame small, his smile kind. Sehun has so many pictures of people just existing in his orbit that he takes lately, to capture moments so they don’t just pass him by in his fast paced life. It’s his favorite picture folder.

Junmyeon looks around his apartment. It’s a little messy, but Sehun hopes it’s not too bad, since Junmyeon is still his landlord. “I can tell. You look like you haven’t slept in days,” Junmyeon says at last.

Sehun collapses on the floor on the opposite side from him and digs into his salad. No point in arguing. Junmyeon doesn’t consider naps a valid sleep option.

“I was going to offer you another job, but you might have enough,” Junmyeon continues, still a little worried. He reaches for Sehun’s cheek and rubs the lipstick off it, wordlessly, studying his face while he does so.

Sehun wants a new compact light, easy to carry for outdoor location shoots. “I’ll take it.”

Instead of telling Sehun what the job is, Junmyeon grills him on all his other jobs and his schedule.

“You have to curate the jobs you take now,” he says, when their salads are long gone and Junmyeon has caved in to an offer of one more beer. “Pick and choose a little. Clearly you have the room to do so now.”

“I don’t know, hyung. Am I really in a position to send people away?” Sehun’s been wondering, but it feels way too soon.

“Yes,” Junmyeon says firmly. “And it’s probably time to revisit your rates. You need a strategy, and to really pick your focus. Is it street fashion, is it high fashion? I know you don’t want to take pictures for shopping mall websites for living. That is your family portraits equivalent now.”

Sehun hums.

“Take my job,” Junmyeon says decisively. It’s more pictures for corporate manager profiles, but they both know what the really good thing about it is. “It pays well, and I understand you want to invest. But you are clearly past the time of taking every job offered.”

“I was barely making rent in winter,” Sehun says. It’s never been that bad, but he’s lived on instant ramen a couple of weeks here and there.

“Yes, I know,” Junmyeon nods, pats his shoulder. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? And fast,” Junmyeon sounds proud. “I should weedle a picture out of you before you become too famous for me to afford you,” he jokes. “But you can also overdo it. And I know you know and don’t want that.”

“Quality over quantity,” Sehun grumbles. He knows, he really, really does. But taking that step. It’s scary. Maybe too soon. But Junmyeon gives good life advice, even if Sehun will call him old fashioned, an old soul.

“I’ll think about it,” he just says in the end. That is after all what Junmyeon wants to hear.

Eventually, Junmyeon picks up after himself and leaves.

“I like the blanket,” he says off handedly from the door, looking over Sehun’s shoulder towards his bed.

“Got it from an old friend,” Sehun says.

“Looks fluffy,” Junmyeon, the lover of everything knitted, says, with a bit of envy.

“Not giving it to you,” Sehun laughs at him, and pushes him out the door.

Chanyeol got him the blanket and Sehun will sleep under air conditioning in summer, get cold in the middle of the night and then pull it up and over him like a fool. Apparently Chanyeol got it at some street stand from an older lady who hand knitted it. It’s in various shades of blue, different wool textures intertwined, creating patterns and dynamics.

“Like an ocean at sunrise,” Chanyeol had said. Sehun could not describe it better. He takes a shower, throws the blanket over his thighs and calls Chanyeoll who, like him, is a night owl, to complain about having to work less. Pot, kettle and all that.

A week later, Baekhyun texts him about Chanyeol dragging him to a bar in Itaewon for an open mic session to sing with him.

You should come so that he doesn’t complain about feeling like a third wheel to me and Kyungsoo after it ends. Again.

You two can get pretty …

intense

to watch.

Sehun laughs a little at a memory of Baekhyun clinging to Kyungsoo drunkenly the last time they went to grab some late night street food. It’s nice really. But also it's a lot, because when Kyungsoo grabs Baekhyun by his neck, the other slumps obediently under his arm and gazes like Kuyngsoo is sun. Kyungsoo gets incredibly pleased by this result, and, yeah, Sehun gets why Chanyeol would complain. Why he does sometimes, even to Sehun.

I thought you two wanted me to get together with him.

Sehun checks his schedule just in case. But he already knows the shoot that was supposed to run late that night has been cancelled. He was planning on maybe washing his clothes and doing some editing. Or, scrape something together for his Instagram. Well.

I’ll be there! And we did!

We just didn’t think it through.

He texts Sejeong, whom he owns that drink, asking if she wants to come too. Somehow the whole thing gets out of hand and gets dubbed by his friends as “The night to finally meet Sehun’s boyfriend while he serenades Sehun into finally dating him for real.” Jongin, Soojung and Youngho are all coming.

“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Baekhyun notes dryly, when they all meet in the bar.

Kyungsoo laughs next to him. “You should have been clearer about the double date,” he says, and Sejeong laughs, delighted. Jongin’s cackle is way too loud.

“He’s not serious,” Sehun deadpans. It’s probably futile. His friends have been on his case for weeks. Sehun doesn’t really know how to approach his own stance on the matter.

Chanyeol comes last, rushing, and Baekhyun rolls eyes at his awe at all the people around their table, at Sehun. Sehun doesn’t expect Chanyeol to tell him about what he does every evening, but he would have tried to make time if Chanyeol told him about this. He knows by now Chanyeol still likes to play and that he had kept up at being in various bands until he started working full time after university.

Chanyeol goes up on the small stage soon after, and alone at first, with just his guitar. He sings a cover of some Japanese song that Sejeong apparently knows from an animated movie and she hoots happily, throwing an arm around Sehun in glee as she listens. She stays excited next to him, needling him for reaction through Chanyeol using the electric piano set up on stage to sing Coldplay’s Everglow, and then Baekhyun and Chanyeol (again on guitar) singing an old Sunflower song and Bumkey’s Love Song. That one Baekhyun actually does serenade, looking right into Kyungsoo’s eyes the entire time. Sehun’s cheeks might be red at the display.

Chanyeol kind of kicks Baekhyun off the stage after that and sighs.

“Kyungsoo?” he asks, resigned, into the mic, and Kyungsoo actually stands up like this was planned, and do even SM managers sing? Apparently so and very well, because Kyungsoo sings Love Yourself with Chanyeol like it’s nothing, and Baekhyun almost falls off his chair, applauding.

It’s a fun night, even if Sejeong constantly tries to make Sehun do something while Jongin winks at him. Sehun doesn’t know what it is they want him to do at this very moment, really, and when he tells Sejeong so, she just slumps against his shoulder and, three shots in, promises not to push it. For now.

“So, Sejeong,” Chanyeol says, slowly, eyes shifty, as they go buy everyone one last round of drinks that evening. Sehun just raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“She seems nice,” Chanyeol sighs, “and well, kind of into you?” Chanyeol gets out at last, when Sehun doesn’t react any other way. “You two get along.”

Chanyeol looks lovely today, but when does he not? His hair is messy, falling into his eyes, and his jeans are loose and kind of holey this time, and he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt with some band name on it. He’s glowing, clearly happy with the successful performance, and it suits him, the joy of it. Only in this moment all his confidence seems to have evaporated and he taps the tip of his sneakers against the wood of the bar, in a nonsense rhythm.

“I don’t date girls,” Sehun says in the end. He thought that was clear between them but maybe not. “You met me in a gay club,” he adds.

Chanyeol’s mouth purses, and Sehun can’t read the emotion behind it. “With a camera around your neck,” he points out.

“Without the battery in it,” Sehun counters just as the bartender puts the last beer in front of them.

“Sehunnie?” Chanyeol laughs at last, shoulders relaxing again, looking disarmed? Maybe. “You could be dating both, anyway,” he says and then looks down at his feet. “I dated women.”

Oh, wait, what is Chanyeol trying to say? “And Baekhyun,” Sehun blurts out, and Chanyeol’s ears are definitely red now. Chanyeol was also at a gay club and didn’t look like he was there just to watch out for Baekhyun.

“Ah,” Chanyeol laughs and it comes out shaky. “I wondered if you,” he rubs the back of his neck, still not meeting Sehun’s eyes. “I suppose we weren’t really that subtle. Or you that young,” he finishes.

“Yeah, not really,” Sehun breathes out, and Chanyeol looks up, sharply. Sehun isn’t sure what he sees, but he feels rooted to the spot, his limbs heavy as Chanyeol watches him.

“Are you paying?” the bartender asks then, and Chanyeol turns to him and does, even if it was supposed to be Sehun’s turn and Chanyeol just tagged along ‘to help with the glasses, you’re too tipsy for a tray full of them.’

Sehun doesn’t feel tipsy, or drunk, but he feels something, as he watches Chanyeol’s broad back while Chanyeol walks to their table with most of their glasses, leaving only three shots to Sehun.

The open mic night is on Monday, and Sehun doesn’t actually drink enough to regret it, but he’s still exhausted the next two days. He realizes a part of the reason may be that he’s taking pictures of managers for the customer Junmyeon got him, and now that he’s done so many other things, it’s terrifyingly boring. He has to work much harder to focus and to get people not look stiff and unnatural in the pictures. He really got spoiled by all the interesting things he’s done in the past two months, he realizes.

That’s what he wants to do, even if it is so much more fast paced and unstable. It’s what manages to pull him in so completely he doesn’t even realize how much his feet drag and his head hurts until it’s over. Unhealthy maybe, but thrilling and so much fun. So on Wednesday, after two days full of managers in suits and with generic smiles on their faces, he’s tired and weary when Chanyeol calls him.

Apparently this weekend is the last to have beach weather. Sehun thinks they’re far away from beaches. Even those just out of Incheon seem way too distant. Chanyeol seems to disagree. He has miraculously procured Friday off and wants to go on a weekend trip to surf.

“Come with me! You mentioned needing a break on Monday,” he lures.

Sehun probably did; he says whatever when Chanyeol asks.

“You said you’ll be editing on Friday. Can you do that in a car?” Chanyeol’s clearly prepared for this.

“Not really,” Sehun says. These pictures are not fashion photography though. And he’s been generous with the time he allocated to it, still with Junmyeon’s words fresh in his mind. He could probably do part on Thursday night and part in some beach B&B somewhere. “I really shouldn’t,” he adds.

“Pack light, just two nights. You know you want to,” Chanyeol taunts, cheerful.

Sehun wants so much. He and Chanyeol went to Incheon again, but it’s been more than two weeks now, and he keeps telling himself he’ll take a breather to really think about … things. About what Junmyeon has said, about where he wants to go next. About the fact he’s been offered to shoot for Hyein Seo and an SM idol, who’s launching some fashion cooperation and who liked working with Sehun, wants him to take pictures of the first line they plan to release. He knows he needs to change some things, but he wants to take a step back and just breathe around it.

“Fine,” he says. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret!” Chanyeol practically shouts into the phone, excited. “It’ll be so good!”

On Thursday Sehun shoots at SM until ten at night, then sits at his low coffee table, with his laptop, and edits all the pictures from the earlier corporate shoot. He blearily swears at his phone at five in the morning, but he finishes it completely. Chanyeol wants to leave early, at seven, so Sehun hopes he’s prepared to drive wherever they are going today. He haphazardly packs a bag, and doesn't bother with sleep, just takes a long shower and makes a cup of tea for himself.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” he asks as he slips into the passenger seat. Chanyeol, punctual and looking very excited, gives him one look and his eyes widen in concern.

“I haven’t slept,” Sehun just says. “But I sent off the work I was meant to do today, so.”

Chanyeol nods, a little more sedate now, and when he speaks next it’s softly, like Sehun’s going to be spooked by the loudness of his greeting. “Then ignore that coffee,” he points to the holder between them, “and sleep.”

“Still not telling me where you’re taking me?” Sehun mumbles. Chanyeol just rummages in the back of his car, locating a soft hoodie and turning back forward.

“No,” he chuckles. “Use this,” he says, and Sehun takes the hoodie and folds it into a makeshift pillow. “You’ll know eventually,” Chanyeol ends that topic resolutely.

Sehun is suddenly so tired he decides not to protest. He lowers his back rest as much as it will go and turns himself so that his back is leaning against the door and he is watching Chanyeol’s profile. He buries his head into the hoodie. It smells like Chanyeol. Clearly he’s worn it at least once, and his perfume clings to it, just enough to really be there, but not too much to be uncomfortable. Like a soft Chanyeol hug.

“Sorry I’m not good company,” he mumbles, sleep already pulling him under. Chanyeol murmurs something, and Sehun feels a hand on his knee where he’s pulled it up on the edge of his seat. He’s gone just as the radio starts playing something soft.

Chanyeol brings him out of sleep with the hand (still?) on his knee, now rubbing small circles around his kneecap.

“Sehunnie,” he’s saying, and Sehun blinks awake, their faces close as Chanyeol’s shifted in the driver’s seat to look at him and the sun blaring through the windows full force now.

“Sorry, I need a break. Breakfast and restroom,” Chanyeol murmurs. “Do you want to get out?”

Sehun rubs his cheek against the hoodie, still a bit bleary, but he really should go with Chanyeol. He is already starting to feel his own empty stomach as his body slowly wakes, and Chanyeol deserves a normal walking, talking companion on this impromptu road trip.

“Yeah,” he rasps out, voice scratchy, and Chanyeol smiles at him, the hand on his knee squeezing.

“Okay,” he only says and waits patiently while Sehun’s mind wakes fully enough to move his heavy body, his stiff limbs. They get out of the car and Sehun rumagges inside his overnight bag for his toothbrush because his mouth feels bitter with sleep. Chanyeol’s still patient, waiting for Sehun and only laughing a little as he ruffles his hair, claiming to fix it where it got slept on. His hands are so warm this morning, gentle. Sehun barely manages to suppress a sigh.

He can’t tell where they are by their surroundings. Somewhere on the road, not on the coast yet, and he doesn't ask. Chanyeol doesn’t provide the information, but does buy them late breakfast, coffee and some soft buns, and they sit at the gas station seating area as they eat, apparently in no rush.

It’s been almost four hours since they left, and Sehun wonders why Chanyeol chose to go that far away from Seoul.

“The traffic was a little heavy out of Seoul, but we’re going to get to the coast pretty soon anyway,” Chanyeol explains as they climb back into the car, gas refilled.

Sehun keeps himself awake, nursing his second coffee and watching the country pass by with slow dawning realization. He doesn’t ask where they’re going again, even when Chanyeol very obviously keeps looking at him when they turn to the coastal roads in Yeongdeok.

He puts the empty cup back into the cup holder and offers Chanyeol snacks. He watches the road wind down the coast, and listens to the mostly rock playlist Chanyeol put on before he started driving again. He’s probably still not very good company, but Chanyeol talks, occasionally, about the ocean they now keep seeing from the car, and the buildings they pass, intertwining his job, no, his passion into so much of it. Sehun replies at times, asks when Chanyeol talks about something so interesting he wants to know more, but mostly he’s just clutching the phone in his hands.

“I should probably call mom soon. She’d want to be prepared,” he says at last when Chanyeol gives him another curious look. His right hand has stayed on the wheel since the gas station but now, as more and more familiar coastal rocks appear, he moves it back to Sehun’s thigh and squeezes.

“The last time she called, you sounded so--” Chanyeol bites his lips, and Sehun just watches him in his periphery, “well, you sounded homesick, and I figured. Kill two birds with one stone. Chuseok isn’t far but not too close either.”

“We could have taken the train, you know,” Sehun says. “Someone would pick us up, and it’d be easier.”

“I wanted to go for a drive, go at our pace,” Chanyeol says. “You’re not...upset, are you? You’ve been really quiet and I was hoping it’d be a good surprise.”

Sehun shakes his head. “I’m just … well, surprised. And I have nothing for my parents. Hyung’s wife is pregnant!” Sehun suddenly feels a bit of panic rising.

“I got you covered,” Chanyeol says, a bit more cheerful now, but still cautious. “I know what manners are. Plus, Baekhyun is sending so much to his mom, I just got inspired by what he brought over.”

“Was this some elaborate plan?” Sehun asks, but it’s mostly teasing now that he knows there’s at least chocolates somewhere in the trunk of Chanyeol’s car.

“Nah, only a mildly secretive one,” Chanyeol says.

“Hey, Chanyeol, can we stop somewhere? Before we get home? I want to, take a breath, maybe,” Sehun says, abruptly realising he kind of needs to get out of the car, for a moment.

Chanyeol stops on the next overlook they pass and Sehun scrambles out, taking a deep breath as he walks towards the railing. He could feel it in the car too, but now, with the water not so far down below, crashing against rocks, maybe fifteen minutes away from his hometown, the ocean is overwhelming. It smells fresh, almost prickling his nose in the late morning. The wind is just barely there, not even really ruffling his hair, promising a hot day, and Chanyeol stands next to him, in shorts and sandals and huge sunglasses, and preens.

“You sneaky little--” Sehun stops himself, only shoves an elbow into Chanyeol’s side. “Fuck,” he mutters, but he’s half laughing already. Chanyeol is too, throwing his long arm around Sehun.

“At least tell me what you got for my mom,” Sehun says as they start driving again, with only the last stretch ahead of them, “so I’m not more surprised than she is.”

There are tears, and Chanyeol just beams in the background and doesn’t comment on some of them maybe being Sehun’s. Only Sehun’s mom is home at this hour and she makes them eat lunch with her, and frets over them and cooes over how much Chanyeol has grown and how they are such good boys.

In the afternoon, Chanyeol goes to see Baekhyun’s mom, to deliver “the heaps of material expression of all the love Baekhyun has for her.”

“Baekhyun said I could sleep there, so I’m going to drop off my things,” Chanyeol adds in the doorway, on his way out, and both Sehun and Sehun’s mom balk at that.

“You are staying here, young man,” Sehun’s mom only says sternly so Sehun doesn’t even have to argue it. Chanyeol thankfully doesn’t either.

Still, Chanyeol stays over at Baekhyun's house for a long time, and Sehun spends the rest of the afternoon catching up with his mom. They walk to see his sister-in-law, and in the evening, they meet in his mom’s kitchen, with his brother and dad now home as well, and eat a huge dinner.

Chanyeol only comes back when the dishes are put away and he’s promised to be fed that much more in the next few days to make up for missed meal. They only walk down to the waterfront late at night. Sehun has his camera with him, and Chanyeol brought his guitar, and they walk with feet in the water, listening to the waves.

“I could impress you with my stargazing prowess,” Chanyeol says at last, as they’re nearing the bonfire. Sehun’s parents mentioned there would be one happening. Chanyeol sounds like he doesn’t really want to go where other people are.

“Does this mean you finally know which star is which?” Sehun asks. “I’m pretty sure the last time we tried, you were just making things up.”

Chanyeol gasps in fake offense then laughs. Their hands brush, and Sehun doesn’t particularly want to go where people are either, but there will be friends and more family to catch up with and he’s missed it. He knows once they get there, it will be good. Chanyeol will love playing the guitar and take requests. He stops anyway, takes a picture from afar.

“We could do that tomorrow,” he says at last, softly. He wonders if Chanyeol even heard him over the crashing waves, but then Chanyeol wraps his fingers around Sehun’s wrist, squeezing tightly, for just a moment, before he drops his hand and starts walking again.

Sehun stands there, for a little longer, long enough to take a proper, deep breath and take a picture of Chanyeol’s back against the dark ocean and the fire up on the beach.

Sehun sets an alarm clock so that he can wake up early on Saturday morning. He drags Chanyeol down to the beach to surf, his own and his brother’s boards under their arms.

Chanyeol’s not too bad. He’s definitely been surfing since they’d last done it together. Sehun tries one more careful wave and then goes all out. He will hurt all over tomorrow, because he hasn’t done this in over a year, but it’s freedom and salt in his eyes, nose and ears, the water sticking to him like he’s being wrapped in a familiar blanket, a welcome present.

“You’re a menace,” Chanyeol tells him as he drags himself further up the beach, two hours later, looking exhausted and a little battered.

“I’ll buy you breakfast,” Sehun says. He owes Chanyeol several meals and more, for the food on the way here, for the thoughtful presents for his family, for the drive. He should be feeding him exclusively, until at least Chuseok.

“And patbingsu?” Chanyeol haggles. “I hear the local stand is famous for its handsome part timers. I have to go and see for myself.”

Sehun forces himself to roll his eyes and squeezes his lips tight, even as Chanyeol watches him from under water clamped eyelashes. “Do you really want to drag these all the way there?” he asks instead of asking Chanyeol if he thinks Sehun is handsome, was handsome seven years ago.

Chanyeol’s nose wrinkles and his eyes lose their stark intensity, soften. “Maybe later,” he admits.

They buy bread and coffee from the local bakery, dripping around it as the owner chases them out playfully, and sit on a beach bench to eat. The beach slowly fills as they trudge back home where they are made to eat a second breakfast, keeping Sehun’s mom company afterwards, as she waters plants in the pots out the back door.

“I’m not walking, I am rolling,” Chanyeol complains.

“Hyung has a scooter,” Sehun says. “We could go grab the shaved ice and ride up, out of town, walk the food off,” he suggests.

They hike up a small mountain, the same one Chanyeol took him to hike that last summer, when he borrowed Yesung’s old motorbike.

“Are you trying to make this purposefully nostalgic to get back at me?” Chanyeol complains, as they watch the waves chasing one after another down the shore.

Sehun wasn’t, not really, it’s just a short, pleasant hike, perfect for the occasion. But now he’s thinking about it. He steps back and takes a few more pictures of Chanyeol. He’s been carrying his camera with him everywhere, only this time it’s not analogue and if Chanyeol wanted he could ask to see that most of the pictures are of Chanyeol with the backdrop of his hometown, of his memories coming to life, only different. They’re both that bit older, different in ways and same in others, and when Chanyeol will leave tomorrow, Sehun will be in the car with him, and not outside watching him wave from behind the window.

“I still have the selca from back then,” Chanyeol says, when Sehun returns to his side.

“Me too,” he doesn’t deny it if Chanyeol doesn’t. He has several selcas and even more pictures of Chanyeol in them.

“Now it wouldn't be crooked,” he says and demonstrates. The display on his camera can be pulled down and turned around, so he does that and they take a picture up here too. Chanyeol’s arm is around Sehun’s shoulders again, and the picture is perfectly centered, Chanyeol smiling widely. His arm stays over Sehun’s shoulders even when Sehun drops the camera, and all the way down the mountain path that they manage to walk side by side.

The day goes by too fast; they go swimming and Chanyeol insists on sunbathing. They lie down on the beach in the late afternoon, Chanyeol snoozing into a book opened over his face and Sehun watching the sky shift above them. He’s gotten the moment of quiet he wanted, but Chanyeol close to him, long legs and broad chest, the muscled back that he absolutely made Sehun put sunscreen on, is too big of a distraction.

They grill fish with his parents for dinner and go for a walk down the pier. They end up sitting down on the beach again, close enough for their feet to be on the edge of the water.

“How did you manage to leave this place?” Chanyeol asks with a sigh, and drops back onto the sand, uncaring for the grains of it in his hair.

“Family portraits are not my thing,” Sehun only says.

Chanyeol chuckles. “Ah those pesky dreams,” he murmurs.

“Why did you stop coming?” Sehun asks back. That's a silly question. There are many beaches, more beautiful and even closer to Seoul. Chanyeol wasn’t going to keep going on vacation with his parents forever.

“I almost came my second year of college, too, you know,” Chanyeol says. “But I got an internship, last minute admittance and … you know how it is. I wasn’t in SNU, I needed all the experience I could get.” Chanyeol is a Yonsei graduate, which is still pretty great, but Sehun knows him well enough to know what he means.

“And then, well, I’d go with my friends, to surf or swim, just for a night or so, and Wolpo-ri is a little out of the way,” he sounds almost guilty saying it, pulling quickly at Sehun’s t-shirt, as if in apology, “even if I love it here. I really do,” Chanyeol sounds kind of wistful.

Sehun drops back onto the sand too. He does care about the grains of it in his hair, a little, but he can press his side into Chanyeol’s like this, feel him breathe next to him.

“I do too,” Sehun says, “but right now, it’s not enough.” It’s still hard to admit. “I want to come back, one day,” he adds.

“When you’re famous and you can open an exhibition of whatever you want,” Chanyeol muses, “you should do one about people and the ocean. You know, like an extension of the one I saw. Then you’ll have an excuse to come back. And maybe to never leave again.” He sighs “I’ll come camp in your guest room.”

Sehun doesn’t think about them getting a lot somewhere at the end of his town and Chanyeol planning some crazy low impact, eco-house and … he doesn’t think about it. He raises the camera from around his neck and takes a few selcas, blindly, definitely all crooked before Chanyeol lifts his arm and holds the other side of the camera steady. It makes Sehun smile. Chanyeol chuckles next to him.

“You are so sappy,” he muses. Sehun thinks about how Chanyeol remembers so much of their time together as teenagers, possibly almost as much as Sehun does.

“Show me the stars, Chanyeol,” he just mutters.

Chanyeol scoots impossibly closer, stretching his hand out and wheedling it under Sehun’s head. He jostles Sehun around until their heads are close, Sehun's against Chanyeol’s shoulder, and explains, “so we have the exact same view.”

And then he does as told, pointing to the stars with his other hand, talking about them with confidence. Sehun believes his every word. He ends up with fingers clutching to the fabric of Chanyeol’s soft, light hoodie between them, high on Chanyeol’s thigh, pressed completely into Chanyeol’s side as they breathe in sync.

They almost fall asleep on the beach, huddled and warm together, blanketed by the sounds of the ocean at their feet. Sehun wouldn’t mind spending the night out here, with Chanyeol holding him close. But a young couple taking a night stroll startles them and the moment is washed away along the sand underneath their toes.

On Sunday, they go surfing again and have a long breakfast with Baekhyun’s mom when she insists. They pick their way across the rockier part of the shore for an hour, Sehun retracing down his favorite path and, afterwards, Sehun’s dad takes them fishing, to catch their own lunch. They have to leave, at some point, and Sehun is reluctant as he picks up his things around his room. Chanyeol knocks on his open door, just when Sehun is done packing and stalling, and walks in, looking around.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever been here,” he mutters, taking in his surroundings. Sehun has pictures hanging on thin strings all over his walls and a couple of photography competition certificates on display too, and Chanyeol studies them. He finds the picture with himself in it, on the rocks just out of town, and the certificate clipped right next to it, and gasps.

“Wait, this won?” he asks, incredulous.

“There wasn’t much competition,” Sehun shrugs.

Chanyeol has no complaint about the picture being entered without him really knowing. “Do you have the negative of it? Can I have it?” He traces the edge of the picture with a finger.

“Vain much,” Sehun teases, but he unclips the picture from the string spamming his entire wall. He used them in order to put up as many pictures as he wanted. Less nails and more space effective than picture frames. “Here,” he says and hands it to Chanyeol who grabs for his wrists between them again, wets his lips like he wants to say something.

Sehun follows the movement until Chanyeol smiles, a small plush smile, and steps back. “Thank you, but are you sure?” he asks.

“It’s not my favorite one from that summer,” Sehun only says. Plus, he does still have the negative of it saved.

“Which one is, then?” Chanyeol asks, incredulous.

Sehun figures that he wanted Chanyeol to ask. He pulls out the book where he kept the pictures he wanted to hide as a teenager, slipped against the empty pages in between the book chapters, and hands it to Chanyeol.

He doesn’t remember every picture he put in there, just that most of them, if not all, are of Chanyeol. It’s not only pictures of their last summer here either, but the one before too, with Baekhyun appearing in the edges one too many times.

“Sehunnie, this is …” Chanyeol steps closer to him, again, where Sehun’s finished zipping up his bag, not wanting to watch as Chanyeol leafs through the book.

“I was just starting to learn back then,” Sehun murmurs, looking at their feet, toes almost touching, right by his childhood bed. His hands are a little clammy, and his throat feels tight. He can feel the pulse in his neck jumping as he wonders if Chanyeol can see what Sehun does when he looks at those pictures. If the past few months with Chanyeol are any indication, then he probably can.

Chanyeol’s fingers stretch out to Sehun’s elbow, like Chanyeol wants to pull Sehun even closer, and Sehun holds his breath.

“Sehun-ah, will you have coffee with us before you leave?” his mom calls from the kitchen then. Sehun has goosebumps down the back of his neck as he steps around Chanyeol to answer her.

“We should go, mom,” he calls out then turns around, keeping his eyes on the floor. “Can we drive along the coast for a while?” he asks, grabbing his bag and sidestepping Chanyeol properly.

“Sure,” Chanyeol says, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. He drops the book back onto Sehun’s study table. “Go say goodbye. I’ll just grab my bag.”

They both get hugs from Sehun’s parents, his brother, and Baekhyun’s mom in the doorway. It’s hard, pulling away. Sehun knew it would be, but he does it, and takes a picture of everyone with his camera on the hood of Chanyeol’s car, all of them squeezed together to fit into the frame. Family portraits are important after all.

The car trunk is full of homemade kimchi and all kinds of other foods, for both of them and Baekhyun. Their bags have to go to the backseat of Chanyeol’s car, and Chanyeol laughs as he closes the trunk.

“I feel like Santa Claus this weekend,” he quips.

“Thankfully no white beard is growing,” Sehun says, brushing his fingers quickly across Chanyeol’s jaw, as if to check. Chanyeol’s eyes grow wide and his mouth goes slack. Sehun’s heart beats loudly, but at least it pushes the ache of leaving further down into the pit of his stomach.

“I could drive,” he says, dropping his hand.

Chanyeol shakes his hair out of his eyes. It’s been down, unruly and wild with sea water and salty air all weekend, and Sehun wants to run his fingers through it.

“I’ll do it,” Chanyeol says, stepping towards the driver’s seat. “I did want to drive up the coast and I’m actually looking forward to it.”

So Sehun curls himself into the passenger seat, both bare feet up on the carseat, and lets Chanyeol drive.

Sehun was quiet as they drove into Wolpo-ri and he is quiet now as they drive out of it. Chanyeol lets a local radio play in the car and doesn’t fill the silence either, this time. Only sometimes Sehun catches him humming to the songs he knows under his breath. It’s soothing. Well, it should be.

If only Sehun wasn’t thinking of the warm skin of Chanyeol’s jaw, the slight shiver he felt against his fingers that he isn't sure was him or Chanyeol. If he wasn't thinking about driving away from home again, while his brother manages what few others do these days, to root himself deeper into the sandy shores of it. If he wasn’t thinking of the pictures left in the book on his desk, and the boy in them sitting next to him, now a man, but still so wonderful.

Sehun didn’t think it was possible for Chanyeol to still have this pull on him. The pictures Chanyeol saw today have definitely faded already, over the years. What Sehun feels now too, isn’t just a phantom of his first, unrequited teenage love. He likes Chanyeol as he is now, how much he's grown but also how much he's stayed the same, the foundation of who he’s become still so familiar. Sehun wants him so much, still and again. He should have shown Chanyeol his new pictures, but this was easier. If Chanyeol doesn't want to have him the way Sehun wants him, Sehun could just play it off, admit to a teenage crush and nothing more.

Chanyeol has been so warm and soft, on the beach last night, and today as he reached for Sehun in his room. Sehun wishes he’d let him touch. He curls his own fingers around his elbows now, and watches the ocean turn darker as the sun moves behind the hills, casting shadows already.

“I can't believe I was going to kiss you in your childhood bedroom,” Chanyeol suddenly blurts out, his voice wobbly, incredulous.

Sehun blinks, then turns sharply to look at Chanyeol as the words truly register. Chanyeol’s looking forward, both of his hands on the steering wheel, fingers holding on maybe more tightly than necessary. He’s biting his bottom lip, must have been worrying it between his teeth for a while now because it’s red and slick.

“There's an overlook just around the next bend,” Sehun says, slowly. “You could try there instead.”

Chanyeol barks out a short laugh then steals a glance at Sehun. It’s too fast for their eyes to really meet, then he’s watching the road again, intently.

“Would that be less of a cliché?” Chanyeol asks, in the end, his tone now carefully neutral.

“Do you care?” Sehun doesn’t have to drive so he can watch Chanyeol’s ears turning red, despite him trying to appear nonchalant.

“Not really, no,” Chanyeol breathes out and turns off the main road. Sehun unbuckles his seat belt before they even stop. They’re the only car here. He reaches for Chanyeol’s shoulder, and uses it as a support as he hauls himself across the center console. He’d like to be smoother, but at least he doesn’t press against the car horn when he settles over Chanyeol’s lap. The bottom of the steering wheel only digs into his lower back.

“Uhm,” Chanyeol says. “We didn’t stop for the view?” he asks, but he’s whispering, and his hands are on Sehun’s waist already.

“Is it not satisfying?” Sehun questions, arching his eyebrow. He presses his fingers into Chanyeol’s jaw again, tilting his head up properly so he can look into his eyes.

Chanyeol’s eyes are smiling, even as they reflect the wonder Sehun is feeling.

“Hi,” Chanyeol says, silly, his teeth pulling at his lower lip again right afterward. Sehun watches it pop out and then leans down to kiss it. Chanyeol lets out a huff of breath before one of his hands moves to the back of Sehun’s neck. Sehun tilts his head to the side, buries his other hand into Chanyeol’s hair, finally, and kisses him properly, fully on the mouth.

“Sehunnie,” Chanyeol murmurs against his lips, and Sehun licks at the corner of his plush mouth.

Chanyeol gasps again, the hand on Sehun’s neck squeezing, and then he’s surging forward and sucking Sehun’s tongue into his mouth. All of a sudden the kiss is hot, and wet, and perfect. Sehun almost forgets to breathe, pressing closer, tasting the mint on Chanyeol’s tongue from when he washed his teeth after lunch. He lets Chanyeol press his own tongue into Sehun’s mouth in return, nipping and licking.

Chanyeol keeps pushing closer, more into Sehun’s space until he’s dragging his mouth down Sehun’s neck, and Sehun arches into it and almost, almost presses back onto the horn fully this time. He pulls at Chanyeol’s hair in order to keep himself from falling backwards completely, and Chanyeol gasps against the hollow of his neck.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol murmurs, winded, but he’s giggling and steadying Sehun with both hands on his back, tipping them back against the backrest of the car seat.

“I admit I thought we’d get out of the car first,” he says, laughing more against the crook of Sehun’s shoulder, and Sehun takes a gulp of breath. It’s hot and humid in the car now that the AC is not running, and he blindly searches for the door handle.

“Let’s go,” he says, opening the door at last, and scrambling out unceremoniously. He hears Chanyeol groan as he presses more of his weight onto Chanyeol’s thighs in the process.

“As I said,” Chanyeol says, still a little breathless when he climbs out after him, “you’re a menace.”

“You like it,” Sehun says, and it turns into a question, only a little.

Chanyeol reaches for his hand, taking it and squeezing, then immediately intertwining their fingers. The overlook is small, and they lean against the car, facing the ocean.

“I do, I really, really do. A lot, Sehunnie. I--” he sighs, pulling Sehun so that there’s no space between them and he has to rest their entwined hands on his own thigh. “In fact, I’m in love with you, an awful lot too, by now.”

Sehun wants to kiss Chanyeol again, but he also wants to watch the last sparks of sun, which is going to hide behind the hills soon, glitter in the ocean water on the horizon. So he drops his head to Chanyeol’s shoulder, and lets go of his hand, only to wrap his own arm around Chanyeol’s waist. Chanyeol’s arm comes around Sehun’s shoulders immediately.

“Me too,” Sehun sighs, as they settle into each other. “Again.”

“Don’t sound so resigned about it.” Sehun can hear the pout in the tone of Chanyeol’s voice. Then Chanyeol kisses the top of Sehun’s head. “I always knew even as a teenager you had good taste.”

Chanyeol can’t see him roll his eyes so Sehun doesn't bother.

“Thank you for showing me all those old pictures,” Chanyeol speaks again, after they just stand there for a while. Sehun tilts his head up to look at him.

“I figured you should know who my favorite model is,” he says.

Chanyeol presses his other hand into Sehun's cheek and kisses him, long, deep and unhurried.

“So vain,” Sehun whispers against his lips, when he eventually pulls away, laughing.

They get take-out some time later and really drive up the coast to Gangneung, even if it makes the road back so much longer. It’s dark when they finally turn inland, and maybe that makes it easier to turn away from the ocean, for now.

“We really can drive to a beach any time,” Chanyeol says. “Not just Incheon, too. Just let me know and we’ll figure it out. Even in winter.”

Chanyeol’s hand hasn’t really left Sehun’s thigh unless it had to for the past few hours, and Sehun plays with his fingers and just nods. He’s still been more quiet than Chanyeol probably expected, after they got back on the road.

They make a quick stop for snacks and gas soon after and when they are truly on the highway, just over two hours of the drive left, Chanyeol takes a stealing breath and squeezes Sehun’s thigh.

“So, I know you’ve had something on your mind, lately,” he says.

“Something other than you?” Sehun asks, scratching his nails over Chanyeol’s palm lightly.

“Well,” Chanyeol says, ruefully, and when the song he just had to hum the refrain of finishes playing, he adds, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sehun sighs, scrunching his nose. But, it’s Chanyeol, and he just spent over two hours mulling things over, once he convinced himself that having sex with Chanyeol in the car somewhere on the side of the road was not a good idea. It helped that Chanyeol refused, when Sehun suggested it out loud, claiming he promised Sehun’s mom to take care of him and getting arrested for public indecency was not really it. Also apparently he’d like a proper bed for their first time because he’s a romantic like that.

“I’ve been struggling with my work schedule,” Sehun says at last.

Chanyeol only nods. “Yeah, Baekhyun shifted from complaining about my work marriage to whining about yours and how he never sees you,” he chuckles. “I’d say I’m happy he’s off my case, but I’d also like to see you sometimes. Take you out on a date maybe.” He’s so earnest it makes Sehun’s stomach clench.

“I’m at the point I barely have time to properly edit what I shoot unless someone cancels on me,” Sehun admits.

“Does that happen a lot? The canceling?” Chanyeol asks. “I mean you mentioned it a couple of times, but I actually don’t know enough.”

“I worry,” Sehun admits. “But as Junmyeon pointed out recently, I need to revisit my rates. I think I could now.”

Chanyeol only hums. “Do you have someone to ask about it? I bet Baekhyun could help, or Kyungsoo. You know, get you to talk to other photographers.”

“I have some ideas, but yeah, maybe I’ll ask.” Sehun is still learning how important having a wide network is, trying to build his own, and not be hesitant to use it. Everyone does it.

“That’s not the main problem, though, is it?” Chanyeol prompts him. “You know even if something happened, I have your back, right? Not just me, either.” Chanyeol squeezes his thigh again.

Sehun is not planning on needing financial assistance, if he can help it. Still. It’s comforting, more than he’d like to admit, having a sense of a safety net.

“There are always passport pictures and family portraits to take,” he only says. Chanyeol huffs, unsatisfied.

“I’m having trouble saying no to projects. And picking those I truly want,” Sehun says. “I always only had a vague idea of what I really want to do long term. I figured I’d wing it and see what I was booked for. That’s changing, but I feel arrogant turning clients down and being picky,” he sighs. “It’s not just the money, it’s artistic direction, I suppose.”

Chanyeol only hums, letting him parse through his thoughts. “But I’m getting there,” Sehun says at last, clutching the handle on the car door with one hand and Chanyeol’s wrist with the other.

“I think,” Chanyeol says, slowly, “that even if you find your direction now, and I get that it is important, we evolve throughout our life. So it won’t be set in stone.”

“But you do give yourself a name, a style, something you’re known for, as an artist, something that people come to you for.” Sehun would hate to box himself into something so completely there is no way out. It’s as scary as not knowing what your box is, really.

Chanyeol only nods again. “You’re good enough to play with your signature style, so that you’re not stuck,” he says confidently. Warmth settles in Sehun’s stomach. He wants to leech off that confidence, soak it in.

“Anyway, there are things I have to change, and yeah, I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Sehun concludes. “But even coming home, it helped, so really, again, thank you.” He wants to lean his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder again, have Chanyeol kiss him. Instead he lets Chanyeol’s hand rest on his thigh and reaches for the back of his neck, presses his hand against the warm skin there, where Chanyeol got just a little sunburnt yesterday. Chanyeol glances at him but says nothing.

“I like street fashion the most,” Sehun says eventually. “I like to do things that are maybe less about the fashion and more about the people.” He instinctively grabs for his phone. “So I’m going to go back and do better with my Instagram and my website. That’s where my signature is, somewhere. I like pictorials that are like that too, less in the studio and more out in the open, mixing styles, pushing the boundaries with colors.”

He’s had people ask him if he didn’t have a studio and he’s had to rent studios as well, a few times. He was made to feel like he should have one. Maybe one day, he could move into a bigger place and use a part of it as a home studio, but he’s certain now, that it’s not a priority for him at the moment.

“And,” he takes a deep breath, “I’m going to hire an assistant. I know a few stylists I can work with, and Sejeong has been teaching me so I can do more myself, but I really cannot run a one man show any longer.”

Chanyeol’s actually gaping a little. “You’re going to hire people to work for you?” he asks, genuinely surprised. Sehun should have done so about six weeks ago, really.

“Just a university student, at first. Probably more than one so they can take trunks around their school schedule and my shooting times,” he says. He interned himself, and he already has applications in his mailbox, of those who are hungry for the opportunity.

“Sehunnie, all grown up, becoming an employer,” Chanyeol muses, his voice sounding like he’s actually touched. Maybe he’s just teasing. “I’m proud of you,” he then adds, in a rush, and moves his hand higher on Sehun’s thigh, drawing a slow, wide circle.

Sehun chokes out a feeble laugh, his chest still a little heavy. He hasn't really told anyone yet, and it feels surreal, him having other people depend on him, at least for income.

“I really am,” Chanyeol says, softer now, and Sehun grabs for his hand again, and holds on tightly, as more and more light flickers around them, the closer they get to Seoul. He feels at last like he’ll figure things out. Eventually.

“Could we make one more stop or are you tired?” Chanyeol asks, when the navigation indicates they’re barely forty minutes away from Sehun’s flat.

“You’re the one who’s been driving since lunch,” Sehun says.

So Chanyeol drives them up a hill on the outskirts of Seoul. He finds a place to park the car and drags Sehun the rest of the way up, to a small park with just two benches among the sparse trees.

“My dad grew up around here,” he says when they sit on one of the benches and look over the neighborhood below them. “It’s not anything special, but he used to take us here to walk around when he went to catch up with old friends. I really like it so I still come here, when I need a bit of a pick me up,” he explains.

Sehun lets himself be pulled under Chanyeol’s arm again. He likes it, the way Chanyeol has a tendency to keep him this close, rubbing his arm and syncing their breaths in the process.

“And over there,” Chanyeol points with his hand over a curved line of lights to the side. “I keep thinking lately that it looks like a shore line, even if it’s not. On the left are lit up houses and beach shops, and on the right, where there’s less light, those are fishing boats out on the sea at night.”

Sehun can see it now. “An ocean in the city,” he agrees, and turns his face to the side so he can press a soft kiss along Chanyeol’s jaw. Chanyeol, who is sharing this spot with him just like that, inviting Sehun into another fold of his life, bringing Sehun even closer to the center of him.

“Ah, you like it?” Chanyeol murmurs, pleased, and when Sehun rubs his nose against Chanyeol’s cheek, he chuckles, deep and breathy and turns his face to meet Sehun’s lips with his own mouth.

It’s so new, so good, kissing Chanyeol. Sehun is thrilled every time he pulls a pleased sound out of him as he swipes his tongue over his teeth or pulls at his bottom lip, just a little too hard, learning what Chanyeol likes, letting him explore in turn. Chanyeol’s hand falls to Sehun’s thigh and he pulls so Sehun is almost over his lap again, bringing them closer as Chanyeol kisses behind Sehun’s ear and down his neck, before Sehun dips his hand in his hair and drags him back into his mouth again.

“Sehunnie,” Chanyeol whispers, pulling back, just a little because Sehun chases his mouth again.

“Fuck, I like you so much,” he gasps when Sehun nips under his jaw next, and Sehun can’t help it, he laughs, light headed and feeling warm with Chanyeol’s hands on his thigh and around his back.

Chanyeol’s throat bobs against his mouth, and then he laughs too, his body moving with it, the sound rushing out of him and breaking in the silence around them, like the waves against the reef. Chanyeol still smells of the ocean and his embrace rocks Sehun like the gentle tide washing over the shores. Sehun relaxes into him and just breathes.