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In retrospect, Ricky’s not quite sure how he got roped into all this.
He’s pretty sure it started with Matthew—the son of Apollo is always hammering for a chance to spend time outside camp—and he’d been present when the group’s idle chatter had begun solidifying into actual plans. But it’s one thing to witness it, and another to realize that oh, they actually meant it.
Really, he should’ve known. Hanbin’s enthusiasm should’ve been a dead giveaway that it would happen. One suggestion from Taerae about going to the beach was all it took for him to light up like a Christmas tree, bouncing up and down in his seat and immediately clasping Hao by the shoulders.
“Can we? Can we, please, Hao, can we?” he’d pleaded, eyes going big and round. His long eyelashes fluttered, and he looked up at Hao through them in a startlingly similar manner to a cat.
Hao had already tensed at the mere mention of the beach, but as soon as Hanbin turned to him, he softened with a sigh. “The beach sounds fun,” he said, to the surprise of all of them, save Hanbin, who preened and nearly bowled him over with the force of his hug.
That probably shouldn’t have been a surprise to him either. It’s no secret that Hao would do anything for Hanbin. Perhaps to him, facing his fear of the sea wasn’t so bad when he’d already given his heart to it.
He wonders if part of Hao regrets it now, though. As the rest of them lounge around the camper van Jiwoong rented, barely visible in the sunlight only just peeking over the horizon, Hao is already nodding off, sitting slumped against the side of the van. Ricky almost laughs at the sight. Even a Roman’s discipline isn’t enough to make Hao an early riser.
“Are you excited?”
Someone nudges him. Ricky doesn’t even need to look to know who it is—the lumbering footsteps are a dead giveaway. He crosses his arms, leaning against the tree to his back. “Should I be?”
“I think so.” To his right, Gyuvin is grinning. He’s always grinning. “It’ll be fun!”
“You didn’t have to invite me just because I was there.” Ricky glances away, back to where everyone else is, absentmindedly tracking Jiwoong and Yujin’s game of flip-the-bottle on the van’s hood. “I know I’m not—”
“Hey. Don’t finish that sentence.” Gyuvin swats his shoulder, hard but not enough to hurt. “We’ve talked about this. You’re not an outsider. You’re one of us. You quest with us, you fight with us. All nine of us. Does it matter what camp you came from? If it did, wouldn’t it make Hao an outsider, too?”
“That’s…” He exhales, shaking his head. “That’s not the same.”
Ricky was born and raised in Camp Jupiter, tied to that side with the blood of both his mortal and immortal families. Everything he is, from his blessings that make him of worth, to his curse that he can never escape…it all stems from what he was born with. It all stems from Camp Jupiter.
He’s not like Hao. Hao has never belonged to Camp Jupiter, has never let himself be trapped in that same way. He knows, just as everyone does, that Hao will only ever let himself belong to one person.
“Ricky.” Gyuvin’s lighthearted demeanor has grown somber, heart-wrenchingly earnest. His large hand, callused and warm, wraps around Ricky’s wrist. “I want you here. We want you here. Do you want to be here, too?”
New daylight breaks through the sky, painting the horizon in a fiery orange. Taerae is standing with an arm around Yujin’s shoulders, both of them bursting out into laughter as Jiwoong’s bottle flops to the ground in defeat. On the ground, only a few meters away, Gunwook and Matthew are talking quietly, Matthew watching with interest as Gunwook’s contraption flies out of his hands and emits a sound similar to a bird’s whistle. A figure, hidden in the van’s shadow, slowly creeps up next to the still-sleeping Hao, and those closest to them immediately back away several feet just before Hanbin startles Hao awake. The resulting shock of electricity zaps through the air along with Hao’s yelp, and Hanbin bursts into laughter, tugging a sulking Hao into a hug as the rest of them roll their eyes fondly.
The early morning is chilly, its breeze still strong. But whenever Ricky is with them, he always feels warm.
“I do,” he lets himself say with a sigh. Gyuvin’s grin returns, outshining the sun itself. “I really, really do.”
It’s been a long time since Jiwoong’s been to this beach.
He used to come here often, hopping on a bus or snagging a pegasus, just to sit by the rocky shores and watch the ocean lap at his feet. Others had always found him strange for it. A demigod that preferred to spend time outside of Camp Half-Blood despite the additional dangers. A child of Ares that preferred to lounge by peaceful waters on sunny days rather than hunt down things to fight. Before the war, people often doubted if he was really a descendent of a war god.
The person he always came to the beach with never questioned him, though. No, the two of them…all they would do was share laughs, and walk along the shores, and chat about everything and nothing as the sun made its way across the sky. It was always quieter when they came in winter, but Jiwoong always preferred the summer despite the crowd. He liked pretending they were just two other kids having fun at the beach. Just two normal mortal kids.
Then, of course, that person couldn’t come with him anymore.
For the first time in years…Jiwoong is finally back here. Without him.
After parking the van, he’d let the others run off ahead of him, their cheers and laughs distant in his ears, as he took in the sight of the beach once more. He isn’t sure what he’d expected, but it’s all so distractingly similar. The salty air, the golden sand. The same rusty sign, with two letters dangling off, nailed down by the boardwalk. The same cracked wooden plank that bends slightly under his foot. He looks around, and it’s like he’s a child again, as if time plucked him from where he was and flung him into the past, one outstretched arm away from grabbing a familiar hand with his…
“Jiwoong! Hurry up, old man!”
He blinks, and time resumes. Through the crowd, he can see eight figures dashing towards the sea, bright and happy and radiant under the sunlight. There’s no one next to him waiting to hold his hand. But there are so many up ahead, waiting for him.
“‘Old man,’” he repeats with a snort, finally stepping off the boardwalk and moving to where Gyuvin had lingered to wait for him. “I’m not even old.”
“You’re already going grey,” Gyuvin says, tugging him along by the wrist. “Come on!”
They reach where the other seven have already found a secluded patch of sand to set up their things. Hao and Yujin are laying out a large blanket, which Jiwoong almost mistakes for a normal blanket until he sees the bronze claws poke out and dig themselves into the sand. Gunwook, meanwhile, is holding a tall beach umbrella, but makes no move to open it—rather, he’s too busy looking quizzically at Matthew, who’s animatedly speaking with his hands flying in the air.
“We don’t need it!” the son of Apollo is insisting. “Really!”
“Are you joking?” Gunwook waves a hand to his right. “Have you seen how sunny it is? Yujin and Ricky are gonna burn up if we don’t have any shade!”
“What the—”
“Why are you bringing us into this!”
“No, it’s okay!” Matthew’s bouncing on his tiptoes excitedly now. Jiwoong’s heart does a traitorous flip-flop at how his cheeks bunch up from how wide his grin is. “Look what I can do!”
He holds his hands out, drawing an arc into the air. As he does, the sunlight seems to… bend around them, carving a perfect circle of shade so wide it covers all nine of them with room to spare.
“Whoa.” Yujin seems more than pleased, lowering the hand that he’d been using to shade his eyes from the sun. “Do you think I can do that?”
“I bet you could.” Taerae flops down onto the blanket, leaning his weight back on his hands. “I’d bet five drachmas.”
“Wait, are we betting?” Gyuvin looks up from where he’s pulling out a collapsible volleyball net. “I bet ten!”
Ricky rolls his eyes. “Do you even know what you’re betting for, you gambling addict?”
“That was one time!”
“Seokmae,” Hanbin interrupts, laughing. “You realize you’ll have to keep this up the whole time, right?”
Matthew puts his hands on his hips, puffing his chest out. “I could! No sweat—”
A jet of water shoots up from the water bottle Yujin had just opened and right towards Matthew’s eyes. Matthew yelps, ducking in the nick of time, and the spot of shade flickers, the sudden bursts of sun causing several winces and complaints.
“Hey! That’s not fair!” Matthew glares at Hanbin, who’s cracking up as he runs from Matthew already chasing him down. The stream of water, meanwhile, circles teasingly around Matthew’s head, like a strange halo. “Get back here!”
With Matthew and Hanbin already running to the ocean, the spot of shade has pretty much fully dissipated. Gunwook just sighs, grinning in amusement, as he sticks the umbrella into the sand, where it automatically expands outwards. “Maybe we should just leave them to it.”
“Yeah,” Hao agrees, hopping down to join Taerae on the blanket. “Unless anyone else has a complaint against using the umbrella.”
The sunlight around them flickers again, and this time the entire area around them gets cast in pitch black. There’s a startled shout from Gyuvin, followed by the sound of several things crashing at once.
“Yujin!”
“Sorry!”
The rest of the morning passes in a similar state of chaos. After Yujin dispels the darkness, Gyuvin wastes no time in dragging Ricky to help him set up the volleyball net, and Gunwook and Yujin are goaded into joining the impromptu tournament soon after. Matthew, after returning from a dip in the ocean, swaps out with Ricky, who more than happily takes a seat at the sidelines with Jiwoong. Hao and Taerae sit at the dock for the most part, doing nothing but taking in the view, except for the moment Hanbin returns to capture Hao in his arms and jump back into the ocean with him in tow, Hao screeching all the while.
“Uh.” Ricky stares at where the two submerged beneath the water’s surface. “Should we help Hao?”
“It’s fine,” Matthew says, waving a hand. “They’re probably just kissing again or something.”
“Underwater?!”
The tournament ends inconclusively after Gunwook somehow manages to spike the ball so hard it deflates (“I’m sorry! I didn’t think it was that light!”), and in retaliation Gyuvin chases him into the sea (“You just didn’t want us to win!”). Eventually, after another hour of everyone freely playing around, they gather back under the umbrella to eat the lunch Jiwoong and Hanbin had packed the day before.
“Hey!” Gyuvin dodges Taerae’s attempt to steal his fries. “Get your own!”
“Stop moving so much,” Yujin complains. “You’re getting sand in my food.”
“It’s a good thing!” Matthew nods sagely, expression impressively straight. “Extra minerals!”
Hao swats at him. “Don’t mislead the child.”
“I’m not a child!”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Ricky says, arching an eyebrow.
“The satyrs would agree with me.”
“The fauns shouldn’t be who you get nutritional education from.”
Jiwoong listens, silently, as their conversation devolves into further disorder, somehow resulting in Gyuvin trying to toss a fry into Hanbin’s mouth despite him sitting across the circle, and Yujin sending their area into pitch darkness for the second time of the day. They’re so loud, their voices reverberating across open sand, probably far enough for the rest of the crowd to hear them, too. They’re loud, unapologetically so, and their volume only continues to grow.
Years ago, when Jiwoong used to come to the beach, he’d spend his lunches in quiet. His companion wasn’t one to talk during meals, so they just ate in comfortable silence, listening to the seagulls’ cries and ocean’s waves. Their food was always something they cooked together the day before, after negotiating with the kitchen harpies, as clean and meticulous as any food made by inexperienced children could be.
Now, instead of the seaside’s tranquility, his lunch is accompanied with loud yelling and overflowing energy. The food goes by slowly, with most being too caught up in their own antics to remember to eat. Lunch itself is a mishmash of whatever the kids wanted to buy at the gas station they stopped by on the way, and the food he and Hanbin managed to put together, their cooking session interrupted several times by a hyperactive Gyuvin and a mischievous Yujin.
So different. So…lively.
Jiwoong didn’t think he would ever get to feel so accepted in his life again. He didn’t think he would get to have anything like this again. But…
He glances over, to where Matthew’s sitting. Matthew catches his eye, and beams in response, warm and bright and perfect.
It’s so easy, in the warmth of their group, to let himself smile back.
“Do you not like swimming?”
Yujin looks up when he feels someone’s shadow pass above him, and is greeted with Gunwook’s smile. His wet hair glistens in the sunlight. He tugs at the hem of his oversized shirt, slightly dampened from the lingering ocean water on his skin. Yujin shrugs.
“I don’t know how,” he admits, as Gunwook sits beside him on the shore. They’re both so close to the sea that the tide brushes past their toes each time it rolls in. “Besides, the sea is…not my domain.”
Gunwook huffs. “Big Three gods and their ‘domains.’ It’s stupid how worked up they get over it. Why should they care if their kids want to go for a swim?”
Yujin can't help but laugh. “Did you come here just to complain about the gods to me?”
“No.” He sticks his tongue out, nudging Yujin’s side. “You said you never went to the beach before, besides Fireworks Beach. How do you like it?”
Yujin purses his lips, gaze drifting back to the sea. The sun is high in the sky now, its relentless heat only slightly alleviated by the passing breeze over him and the cold current underneath him. He can spot some of the others scattered about the sea—Taerae and Matthew splashing each other in the shallower waters, Hanbin gliding and leaping through the ocean depths like some kind of dolphin, Jiwoong paddling out to sea on a surfboard Yujin can’t remember them bringing.
It sparks new warmth in him, every time he spots a face he recognizes. A person that waves at him with a grin when they notice him looking. So many people that he’s happy to see, and are happy to see him. A warmth not scorching like the overhead rays, but something calmer, lighter, that lifts his heart on the backs of butterfly wings.
It’s a strange feeling. One he’s not yet used to. This warmth in his chest, the soreness in his cheeks from how much he’s been laughing, the ease in his body. The Yujin Han from before could only dream of feeling the way he does now. Unburdened. Free. Lighter than a cloud.
“I like it a lot,” he tells Gunwook. “Are you having fun, too?”
“Of course!” Gunwook’s hands, as hyperactive as they are, have resorted to shaping something in the wet sand in the few moments Yujin had looked away. “Anywhere with you all is fun for me.” His smile softens around the edges. “It doesn’t feel right unless we’re all here. So I’m glad you’re having a good time, too, Yujinnie.”
Oh gods. Yujin ducks his head, brain unable to compute the raw love and sincerity that Gunwook emits like it’s nothing. Embarrassed, he sputters, “I was having an even better time watching you sabotage the volleyball game.”
“Hey!” Gunwook protests, successfully distracted, although his hands keep moving even without his full attention on them. “It was an accident! Really!”
“Tell that to Gyuvin.” Then, after a beat, “Where is he, anyway?”
Gunwook points a thumb behind his shoulder. Yujin turns and squints in the distance, to see Gyuvin, clearly fast asleep, buried from the neck down in the sand. Hao is nearby, hand clamped over his mouth and doubled over in suppressed laughter, as Ricky continues to pack the sand down around Gyuvin with a maniacal smirk.
“Oh my gods.” Part of him can’t quite believe what he’s seeing—which is saying something, considering everything he has seen in his two lives. “How long have they been doing that? How did Gyuvin not wake up?”
“More than an hour. And I have no idea.”
“He’s so tall though—”
“Best not to question it. Hao told me Camp Jupiter could break down and rebuild their entire camp within days if they needed to. I don’t question what he and Ricky are capable of anymore.”
Yujin laughs. Gods. It’s so easy to laugh around them all. Happiness was never a privilege he could have before, so it’s still disarming sometimes, to have such copious amounts of it showered over him so openly. And when Gunwook laughs with him, eyes crinkling into crescents, it creates a melody all the sweeter to his ears, because this happiness he has now can never be true unless it’s shared with those that brought it to him.
His father once told him that he, like the rest of the children of Hades, didn’t belong in the sun. People like them, born to death and darkness, weren’t meant for anything except misery, to be shunned to the shadows and left to be forgotten. A child of Hades wasn’t meant to thrive in the sun.
Yujin doesn’t hate him. But he does think, as he basks under the summer skies, that it’s nice to know he was wrong all along.
“I never thought I’d be able to have this,” he says. It’s easier now, to speak honestly about his feelings. As if every day he spends with them loosens the tight cap atop his heart just a little more. “I never even let myself want something like this before.”
Gunwook falls silent at that. Yujin is content to let the silence settle, until he feels Gunwook’s callused hand open his, and something cold press into it. When he looks down, there’s a small sand sculpture of a flower, resting lightly on his palm.
“We’ll make sure you never have to want for anything again,” Gunwook says, earnest and solemn. “You can count on us.”
Yujin cups the flower protectively. It’s small, spanning to the edges of his hand, small petals opened to the heavens. He has no idea how Gunwook managed to craft something so intricate from sand, but…well. It would be silly to ask. Gunwook could make anything if he wanted. He’s not like Yujin. A son of creation, not a son of death. In many ways, they are opposites.
And yet, Gunwook still created this. For him.
“Say anything you want.” Gunwook squares his shoulders, exaggerating a boastful posture that makes Yujin laugh again. “We can get it for you!”
Yujin just smiles, and then they’re both laughing when they hear Gyuvin’s scream piercing the air and spot Ricky and Hao running past them cackling madly. They make their way over to Gyuvin to dig him out, and Yujin sets the flower carefully aside, thinking idly that Gunwook also has it wrong.
There isn’t anything else he could want anymore. Not when he has his family here with him.
The night had started just fine.
The sun has set, giving way to a gleaming crescent moon and countless twinkling stars, and soon the beach is deserted by everyone except them. Gunwook starts a bonfire for them, keeping them warm even when the breeze turns chilly with the fall of night, and they share dinner in crackling firelight and glowing satisfaction.
Hanbin can tell that, after such a long day full of excitement, some of them are growing tired already. Yujin and Gunwook already seem to be dozing off, despite their denials. Thankfully, the house they rented for the night isn’t too far, so it won’t be difficult to move them there to rest if they really do fall asleep. Others, like Matthew and Gyuvin, are still bouncing with boundless energy. After dinner is finished, and Taerae pulls out his guitar, they’re the ones that sing along loudest, voices ringing out into the night.
Hanbin is like them, still buzzing with energy after spending so much time in the water. He would still go back to swim in the ocean’s depths even now. A day at the beach, with so many of his closest loved ones, is his idea of paradise. He would live this day over and over again if he could.
There’s just one strange thing about it all.
Hao is sitting next to him. That isn’t the strange part—quite the opposite, actually. It’s no surprise for Hao to be at his side, holding his hand. But…for one, he’s running rather warm, skin flushed red in the firelight. And while he’s not usually one to shy from physical affection, especially around their friends, right now, he’s rather…well…
“—still think we’d beat you in Capture the Flag,” Matthew is saying, eyes sharp in challenge.
“It would depend on the rule set,” Gunwook says, ever pragmatic even on the verge of sleep, curled up on the ground and leaning against Matthew’s leg. Taerae, close by, ruffles his hair. “And where you had the game.”
“Yeah.” Ricky crosses his arms. “All you guys use is a forest. I bet if you tried to scale the wall we build for every war game you’d fall off.”
“He’s got us there.” Jiwoong takes a swig from the bottle in his hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gyuvin not fall off the lava wall.”
“There’s lava on it!” Gyuvin protests, flailing his arms so wildly he jostles the drowsy Yujin beside him. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You literally heal instantly,” Taerae deadpans.
“That doesn’t make me want to touch lava!”
Hao is giggling. He’s snuggled into Hanbin’s side, clinging to him and nuzzling his face into Hanbin’s neck, all blushy smiles and bright giggles. It’s adorable. He’s so adorable, and Hanbin’s heart squeezes from how cute he is, but at the same time, he’s also…confused. His giddiness, although undoubtedly endearing, is also a bit unexpected…
“I’ve never seen Hao like this,” Ricky says. He, at least, doesn’t look worried—just amused. “It’s like he’s drunk.”
Drunk? Hanbin frowns, and Taerae echoes his thoughts when he says, “How can he be drunk? Jiwoong’s the only one drinking alcohol.”
“Oh.” Jiwoong’s eyes widen. “Oh no…”
“What?”
He checks his bottle, then leans over to pick up the bottle at Hao’s feet. He gives both a cursory sniff.
“Huh,” is all he says. “I was wondering why my drink tasted so weak.”
A beat. Then—
“Oh my gods—”
“How did you mix up your drinks?!”
“Your bottles don’t even look that similar—”
“—that just sparkling water?”
“Oh…” Hanbin can’t see Hao’s face at this angle, but he can hear his pout as he grumbles, “Don’t drink that, Jiwoong…tastes gross. Sooooooo gross. Blegh.”
Jiwoong looks equal parts apologetic and amused, as Hao curls even closer into Hanbin, melting until Hanbin’s holding him up completely. Hanbin lifts a hand to Hao’s cheek, raising it slightly to try to get a better look at him. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”
“Mmhmm…” Hao’s forehead wrinkles in momentary confusion, before he’s relaxing his face into Hanbin’s palm. He giggles again, poking a clumsy finger at Hanbin’s cheeks. “Binnie…you look like a kitty. Kitty Binnie…heehee…”
Gyuvin is cracking up, leaning into Ricky’s side, who also seems to be fighting off a smile. Taerae and Matthew are full out laughing.
“Oh, man…” Gyuvin wipes at his eyes, still chortling. “Jiwoong, I can’t believe you’ve done this…”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“Hey, Hao,” Yujin calls out, “who do you think would win in Capture the Flag? The Greeks or the Romans?”
“Eh…?” Hao blinks, three times, before frowning. “Whatever side I’m on would win, obviously!”
Matthew startles. “Would you not be on the Roman—”
“Oh my gods.” Taerae snorts. “Okay. If you and Hanbin had to be on opposite sides, who would win?”
“Who’s stopping us from being on the same side!” Hao’s pout deepens. “I’ll kill them first.”
Oh dear. “Alright,” Hanbin says, covering Hao’s mouth before he can make any more declarations of murder. “Maybe I should get Hao back to the house so he can sober up.”
“That might be for the best,” Ricky says between chuckles. “He can sue Jiwoong when he wakes up.”
Jiwoong protests again, and Hanbin decides to leave them to it, letting their voices fade to the background as he pats Hao’s cheek again.
“Come on, Sparky,” he whispers, kissing the tip of Hao’s nose just to see it scrunch up in response. “Can you stand?”
“‘m not Sparky!” Hao hugs him tighter, so close now that he’s practically on Hanbin’s lap. A few errant sparks fly from Hao’s skin, that fade into a fizzing warmth when they land on Hanbin. “Don’t wanna move…”
Eventually, with some coercing, Hanbin manages to get him to his feet, and together they part from the campfire, Hanbin waving goodbye to them before returning his attention to Hao. They head to the house at a slow pace, Hao’s feet dragging in the sand as he walks. When they get closer to the shore, Hao freezes, then yelps as the tide crashes near them.
“Go away,” he whines, trying to tug free from Hanbin’s grip, eyes fixed on the approaching tide. “Go away, go away—!”
“Hey, hey, shh, calm down—” Hanbin reaches up to cup Hao’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m here. Don’t worry about that, okay?”
Hao blinks, hazy eyes slowly refocusing until they meet Hanbin’s. Then, something clears in them, and Hanbin can see the exact second the realization takes shape.
“Oh.” He relaxes. “Hanbinnie…”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Hanbin leaves a chaste peck on his feverish forehead. “I’m here. Like always.”
“Mmkay…” The tide sweeps in again, but this time Hao doesn’t react, just staying pliant in Hanbin’s arms and letting Hanbin guide him along the shore. “I trust you…”
He continues to lean his weight on Hanbin the entire way to the house, clearly too drunk to support any on his own. Hanbin, admittedly, has also never seen Hao drunk before. Every few seconds, Hao giggles, seemingly at nothing, or mumbles something excited and incoherent and sulks if Hanbin doesn’t indulge him with a response in time. He usually runs cold, but tonight he’s burning to the touch, his warmth wrapping around Hanbin like a blanket. He also keeps grabbing Hanbin’s hand to kiss it, sometimes leaving gentle trails along his fingers, and sometimes just smacking his lips against his palm. When Hanbin laughs, ruffling his hair in response, Hao preens, cheeks still flushed redder than his hair, and tries to kiss his hand again.
So cute. Hanbin is so hopelessly in love.
Hanbin summons a few streams of water from the sea, shaping them into different things to keep Hao entertained on the way back. A bird. A fish. A red panda. The last one is what really grabs Hao’s attention. Hanbin lets the panda dance around in the air in front of them as they walk, occasionally running around Hao’s head and resting on Hao’s hand. At one point, Hanbin lets it boop its nose against Hao’s, and the dumbfounded look on Hao’s face is so adorable Hanbin almost falls over laughing.
“Hey!” Hao hugs the red panda to his chest, turning his face from Hanbin with a hmph. “No making fun of me!”
“I’m not,” he says, still laughing. “You’re just too cute. My cute baby.”
Hanbin pinches his cheeks, laughing harder at how Hao’s cheeks darken even more, before kissing them in apology when Hao starts grumbling again.
By the time they finally reach the house, Hao is almost completely deadweight against him. Hanbin ends up having to scoop him up to get them both into their shared room, and laying Hao onto the bed. Hao drags him down with surprising strength before he can leave to find their pajamas, and Hanbin lands on the bed next to him with a soft oof! causing the red panda to dissipate from his break in concentration.
“Hao,” he says, “I have to—mmph!”
Hao clambers over him, peppering kisses all over his face, and Hanbin dissolves into laughter, his own cheeks growing warm as Hao kisses his forehead, his nose, everywhere he can reach.
“Don’t go,” Hao whines between kisses, gazing up through his lashes pleadingly, a sight so lovely Hanbin’s breath catches. “Please? Please, Hanbinnie—”
With a relenting sigh, Hanbin reaches up to thread a hand through Hao’s hair, and tugs him closer until their lips finally meet in a proper kiss. Hao melts immediately, humming in pleasure, restless energy calming as Hanbin coaxes him into slowing down with each press of their lips.
“Relax, lovely,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around Hao’s waist. “I was just going to get you a change of clothes, so you can be more comfortable when you sleep.”
“Hmm…don’t need it,” Hao slurs out, resting his head into the crook of Hanbin’s shoulder. “You’re all I need to be comfy.”
“Hao,” Hanbin chuckles, kissing the crown of his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“You don’t make any sense,” is the petulant response. “‘m tired…”
Hanbin sighs again, so unbelievably fond that his heart feels like it’s about to burst. He adjusts their position, without letting go of Hao, so they’re both on their sides, Hao tucked safely into his arms, face resting right above Hanbin’s heart. With one hand, he reaches for the blanket, and pulls it up to cover them. He can feel Hao’s breaths evening out already, as sleep tugs him under. There’s the faintest press of lips to his neck, making him smile.
He could move, if he wanted. But Hao’s warmth, and the lingering scent of firewood and salt, and the even rhythm of Hao’s breathing, are all quickly lulling him into such a relaxed state that he can feel his own eyes closing, so completely and utterly at peace.
A day he would live all over again. Hanbin exhales, settling into the bed, embracing Hao closer to him before letting his eyes shut fully.
“G’night,” Hao mumbles, already dozing off. “Love you…”
“I love you, too, my Hao.” He leaves one last kiss in Hao’s fluffy hair. “Goodnight.”
Together, they sink into slumber, a perfect end to a perfect day.