Chapter Text
The first thing Mingyu’s dad told him about the beach was to not wander too far down the beach, Mingyu. There are dangerous things out there. Even after all these years, he doesn’t neglect to remind Mingyu every summer.
He thinks about it every year they come, when he watches the sunlight glitter off the water, runs his fingers through pristine sand. He can’t help but wonder what those things are. It’s not like he’s unfamiliar with being pinched by crabs or doesn’t know there’s marine life out there that will eat him if he’s not careful (or so his grandma said).
Mingyu fiddles with the shells and assorted shiny rocks he has lined up on his windowsill. A few weeks into summer on a calm day is just the time to keep his collection going.
The sand crunches underneath his sandals as he ventures onto familiar shores, his steps on the sand and crashing waves play a familiar summer song that he hums along to as he browses the sand for any hidden treasures. The sun is high in the sky, the perfect time for anything shiny on the beach to catch the afternoon sun and Mingyu’s attention.
It’s not long before he spots a shock of blue from a surprisingly far distance. He jogs over and leans down to inspect it for any jagged edges before picking it up and holding it to the sun. He runs his fingers along the surprisingly smooth and bright blue ridges only made brighter in the sunlight and smiles to himself before pocketing it. This is already such a good find that Mingyu is prepared to go straight home and show his parents and grandparents, but his attention is diverted by another shiny shell, this one a lovely lavender color. Mingyu has never seen shells in these colors before and his summer hobby has never gotten him quite this excited, especially when there’s yet another oddly-colored shell waiting for him in the distance.
The interesting things about these shells that have found their temporary home in the pockets of Mingyu’s shorts is that none of them were covered in sand, almost like they were set down on purpose like beach decorations. Briefly, Mingyu wonders if he’s picking up someone else’s shells, but he hasn’t seen anyone else on the beach since he got here. Anyway, finders, keepers. His shells now.
His favorite one so far is a picturesque ivory color, just the right shape and an entrancing color, almost as if it were from a storybook. It gleams like a pearl when he holds it up to the sun just right and he rubs his fingers on it as he follows the trail of shells. He’s too busy admiring the way it fits in the palm of his hand to avoid walking face first into a gigantic rock. The shells in his pockets jingle like bells as he falls backward onto the sand with a pathetic grunt, ivory shell still clutched in his hand.
“Fuck…” Mingyu groans, cushioned by the soft sand below his back. He squeezes his eyes shut and heaves a sigh. He wonders for a moment if this was the danger his dad warned him about.
Dazed, he sits upright and looks at his surroundings. He’s in a small, unfamiliar cove, surrounded by large rocks and mysterious greenery.
“...shit,” he mumbles to himself again. He has no idea where he is. He’s way too deep into the beach, his dad is gonna kill him—
There’s a loud splash that brings him out of his thoughts. Certainly not the sound of the waves, almost like…
“...hello?” He calls nervously. “Is…is anyone there?”
He’s only returned by silence, but he sees an unusual ripple on the water, moving away from him.
“Hello?” He tries again, following the movement into the smallest little cave, where the movement stops in what resembles a small pond. His summer song is replaced by the beating of his heart, of fear of the unknown, of curiosity.
There are dangerous things out there.
He’s tempted to run, for once scared of what it might be, but a head of dark hair and a set of dark brown eyes pop up from the water and Mingyu screams at the sudden appearance.
The eyes widen before quickly sinking back down and Mingyu scrambles to reach out at the mysterious person before he can stop himself.
“Wait, wait, come back! I’m sorry for yelling!”
The water is still for a second or two before the half head appears again, this time more slowly, apprehensively.
Slowly, as to not scare them off again, Mingyu sits down on the sand.
“Hello,” he says cautiously.
The eyes, dark and mesmerizingly beautiful, blink at him. How haven’t they come up to breathe yet?
“Hi. My name is Mingyu,” he says softly. “What’s your name?”
Blink. Blink. Bubbles burble up from in front of their face with a muffled sound, like they said something.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Blink. Mingyu blinks back, expectant. He tries not to stumble back when the person pulls half of their body up from the water, resting their elbows on the sand.
Oh . This is the danger his dad was talking about.
Danger comes in the form of brown eyes turning honey in the sunlight, pursed pink lips, narrow shoulders, long fingers with nails brushed black, and loose gossamer fabric that somehow isn’t wet wrapped around a flat torso.
“Minghao,” he says in a soft voice. Mingyu’s new favorite summer song may simply be the sound of Minghao’s voice, inhumanly beautiful.
Danger is named Minghao.
“Hi, Minghao,” Mingyu whispers back. Minghao looks at him curiously, his gaze breaking Mingyu out of his trance. He has to say something. Anything. “Um, it must be nice to breathe. Since you’re out of the water now and all.” He bites his lip. Maybe not anything.
Blink. Shrug.
“I don’t need to do that.”
Mingyu furrows his eyebrows.
“You don’t need to…breathe?”
“Not above land, no.”
“What, like a fish?” Mingyu tries to crack a joke. Minghao raises his eyebrows and props his head up on one hand.
“Do you believe in mermaids, Mingyu?”
“...do I believe in mermaids?”
“You should start today,” Minghao suggests. Mingyu pauses, even more confused.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re a mermaid?” Mingyu clarifies, bewildered.
“You could call me that. I’m a jiaoren , not the kind of mermaid you know, but ‘mermaid’ works fine.”
It’s Mingyu’s turn to blink.
“Where’s...tail?” He asks, intelligently, waving his hand to motion to Minghao’s body. Minghao giggles. Oh, he fucking giggles.
Minghao swings up onto the sand with ease, laying on his side. Mingyu’s eyes trail down his slender body, from his sheer top that looks almost like silk but far more beautiful, to a string of small pearls wrapped around his narrow waist, and then a tail. A fish tail . Desperately, he searches for some kind of seam between Minghao’s waist and his tail , because no way, mermaids aren’t real, but finds nothing and is forced to conclude that it’s actually attached to his body. Like, for real. He itches to run his fingers along the smooth transition from flesh to iridescent scales.
His tail itself is a beautiful thing. Comparing it to a fish would be an almost offensive disservice to its ivory color, scales gleaming almost rainbow in the sunlight that peeks into their cave. It’s almost as beautiful as Minghao himself. It reminds Mingyu of the shell still clutched in his hand.
“Don’t you need to, like, be in the water?” Mingyu stammers, unable to take his eyes off of Minghao’s tail . His entire fucking mermaid tail.
“Most of the time,” Minghao responds, sinking his whole entire real mermaid tail back into the water with grace. “I can spend a little bit of time on land, but it’s more comfortable in water.”
“Uh huh,” Mingyu tries to listen, a little dazed. Minghao smiles, seemingly pleased he’s caught Mingyu off guard.
“So do you believe in mermaids now?”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Minghao giggles again, swishing his tail around in the water. His tail.
“You have a choice to do anything, Mingyu. You can leave and pretend you never saw me if you wanted.”
“No!” Mingyu exclaims before Minghao has barely finished his sentence. “No, I…think it’s cool that I met you.”
Minghao smiles brightly with a mouthful of jarringly sharp teeth, but it strikes Mingyu’s heart nonetheless. Mingyu shifts nervously, forgotten shells in his pockets clinking around. Minghao tilts his head.
“What’s that noise?”
Mingyu looks down at his pockets.
“Oh, just…shells I found. It’s kinda silly, I know—”
“It’s not silly at all!” Minghao says enthusiastically. Mingyu looks up at him in surprise. “Can I see?”
The genuine eagerness in Minghao’s eyes breaks down Mingyu’s insecurity and he smiles, digging them out of his pockets and gently placing each of them down in front of Minghao.
“Wow, they’re so pretty! Did you find them all on the beach?”
Mingyu nods.
“I found them all today, I’ve never seen shells this pretty before. I didn’t know colors like this existed.” He looks around the small cave in wonder. “They lead me here, actually. Weird coincidence, right?”
Minghao’s eyes sparkle.
“Lucky for me.”
For not the first time today, Mingyu is stunned into silence again. Before he can figure out what to say, Minghao speaks again.
“Can I have one?”
If anyone else had asked, Mingyu would have said no. Finders, keepers, after all. But he figures he can make an exception for Minghao, special as he is. Who would he be to deny a beautiful mermaid a small gift?
Mingyu peruses his small collection of shells thoughtfully.
“Which one do you like the best?” Mingyu asks.
“Which one do you think would suit me?”
Mingyu doesn’t have to think. He opens his hand and shows Minghao the ivory shell he’s been holding onto, which Minghao marvels at.
“This one? Really?” Minghao asks in awe. Mingyu nods, holding his hand out.
“It reminds me of your…um, tail.”
Minghao rolls his eyes with a fond smile.
“You can be normal about my tail. It’s not any different than you having legs. It’s just there.”
“Sorry, I just…I’m not exactly used to people with tails, so I don’t know…mermaid etiquette.”
Minghao giggles again and takes the shell from Mingyu’s hand with care, tucking it above his endearingly pointy ear, a mesmerizing contrast between the bright color and his dark hair, slowly drying to a slightly lighter color. He turns his head to show it off and raises his tail above the water.
“How do I look? Does it match?”
“You look beautiful,” Mingyu says in wonder, before catching his own words and shaking his head. “The—it looks beautiful. The shell. And…tail. The very normal tail.”
Minghao laughs something bright and happy and Mingyu wonders if there’s a way to bottle up the sound of his laugh and keep it next to his shell collection, even though it’s more beautiful than anything he owns.
“I’m so happy you’re getting so normal about my tail,” he teases.
Mingyu looks away, embarrassed, as Minghao giggles again.
“Ask me whatever you want. To get used to mermaid etiquette.”
Mingyu thinks about it. He doesn’t have a list of questions prepared for potential mermaids he may happen upon, so he’s coming up short.
“You said you weren’t a…normal mermaid?” Mingyu fumbles through his question, unsure about his terminology.
Minghao wiggles around in the water, appearing to think. It’s terribly cute.
“I’m like the Chinese version of a mermaid, so not really the kind people think about. For the most part we’re the same, very normal tail and all, but jiaoren are a little different because we weave a special kind of silk that repels water,” Minghao tugs at his no longer mysteriously not wet top. “and our tears become pearls. The ones around my waist are the tears of joy my mother cried when she gave birth to me, as is tradition. Other than that, just your average fish person.”
You’re anything but average , Mingyu wants to say.
“Are you from China?” He asks instead.
Minghao nods.
“Off the coast of Yingkou , next to Anshan .”
“Is that far from here?”
“I think it’s around…800 kilometers?”
“Eight hun—you swam 800 kilometers?!”
Minghao shrugs.
“A guy can’t go on vacation?”
“You’re gonna swim 800 more to go back?!”
“You act like I do it all in one trip. It takes a few days, and I’m not a kid.”
“How old are you? Are you like…immortal?”
Minghao rolls his eyes.
“I’m not immortal, I’m 14. I’m turning 15 in a few months.”
“Oh! I just turned 15 a few months ago!” Having even just one thing in common with Minghao feels blessed.
Mingyu loses himself in curious conversation with Minghao, exchanging information about being jiaoren and being human, what it’s like living in the water and what it’s like living on land, and only realizes the sun is setting when the ivory shell carefully tucked above Minghao’s ear is dyed orange.
“I have to get back before it gets dark. It was nice meeting you, Minghao.”
Minghao pouts just the slightest bit before sinking deeper into the water, resting his head on his folded arms.
“Will you be back tomorrow, Mingyu?”
No, I can’t, I’m not allowed to be here —
“Yeah. I’ll come back to see you tomorrow, Minghao.”
There are dangerous things on the beach, Mingyu concludes on his way home, one less shell in hand but the vision of the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen in his mind. His name is Minghao, and Mingyu is all too happy to fall into his trap.
---
“I tell you a lot about myself, but I feel like I don’t know enough about you,” Mingyu says the day after they meet, crossing his legs. “What do you like to do in your free time?”
Minghao thinks for a moment, tapping a long finger on his chin.
“I meditate. I like to draw. I like dancing a lot.”
“You draw? How do you draw?”
“Squid ink,” Minghao wiggles his ink-brushed fingers. “Just like how I paint my nails. We etch it onto soft coral.”
Mingyu didn’t know squid ink could dye fingernails like that, but what does he know about squids?
“Just squid ink?”
“We have some other stuff to use as dyes too, but we don’t have a lot of really vibrant colors,” Minghao says with a sigh. “I wish I could use some brighter colors.”
“Have you ever tried painting?”
Minghao tilts his head.
“What’s painting?”
“It’s…” Mingyu pauses, not sure how to describe painting, because he’s not really sure how to describe the idea of paint. “You put colors onto paper with…do you know what a brush is?”
“No.”
“Okay, uh. It’s a stick with, like, bristles—do you know what a bristle is?”
“I don’t think so.”
Mingyu looks at Minghao helplessly, who looks at him with an expression of an equal mix of pity and amusement.
“Can you just show me? It sounds fun.”
“Okay,” Mingyu agrees with a smile. “I’ll bring you some paints sometime. Can you tell me about your drawings?”
Minghao brightens and claps his hands together excitedly.
“Yes! I mostly like to draw based on whatever I feel, so a lot of it is really abstract. I think it’s a really good way of releasing my feelings. I also like to think of it as an act of rebellion. I want to be myself. I want to be unique.”
Mingyu hangs onto Minghao’s every word, drinking his philosophy in like a man parched. He could never have his fill of Minghao.
“I don’t want to be defined by others. And I think art helps me break free from that. It’s a sort of freedom.”
“Freedom?”
“Yeah.”
Mingyu looks at Minghao expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. Minghao stares back at him and Mingyu isn’t sure how to read his expression, a striking difference from how often Minghao chooses to wear his emotions on his face, expressing exactly how he feels about things. Mingyu likes that about him.
“What does that mean to you?”
Minghao hums, looks away. The ripples in the water imply he’s swishing his tail around.
“That’s all there is to it.”
It’s obvious there’s something Minghao doesn’t want to share, but Mingyu thinks they have time. That he’ll be able to earn this from Minghao. For now, he’ll do what he can.
“I’ll come by with some painting supplies when I can get some. I think you’ll like it.”
Minghao beams.
“I look forward to it.”
---
Mingyu comes back the day after, the day after that, and the day after that. Minghao never looks any less excited to see him and Mingyu never feels any less excited to see Minghao, who’s quickly become the highlight of his summer.
Just like every other day, Minghao brightens at the sight of him. Mingyu never gets tired of the way Minghao’s face lights up and Mingyu is sure he wears the same expression.
“Hi. I’m back.”
“Welcome back.”
Minghao props his chin up on both hands with a small frown when Mingyu sits down.
“You’re late.”
Mingyu gives him a fond smile.
“Sorry. I wanted to grab something from the library.” He holds up a wide book, simply titled Book of Constellations . Minghao looks at it in interest as Mingyu sits down.
“What’s that?”
“You don’t know what a book is?”
Minghao rolls his eyes.
“I know what a book is. We have books too. What’s it about?”
“It’s about constellations. Have you ever seen them?”
“What’s a constellation?”
“You don’t have constellations?”
“Maybe I do. I’d let you know if you’d tell me what they are.”
“They’re like pictures people make with the stars.”
“Oh. We don’t have those. We live too deep in the ocean to see them very often, so we don’t really make pictures with them.” Minghao eyes the starry cover of the book with curiosity. “Show me?”
Mingyu sets the book down to the side, making Minghao furrow his eyebrows in confusion, instead taking the towel hung around his shoulders off and holding it out to Minghao, who blinks.
“Come on, we have to dry you off.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re wet?”
Minghao frowns.
“I can’t help it. I meant why do I have to not be wet?”
“Oh.” Mingyu flushes. “Books are made of paper, and it dissolves when it gets wet. I have to return this to the library, so I can’t damage it.”
He gently nudges the towel out to Minghao expectantly.
“I don’t want to. I like being wet.”
Mingyu sighs.
“At least let me dry your hair so it doesn’t drip on the pages.”
Minghao nods and makes no motion to move, so Mingyu gets closer, gently toweling Minghao’s long hair. It’s soft, despite Minghao spending all of his time in the water. He supposes that’s another difference in their biology.
He spends a quiet minute making sure Minghao’s hair is as dry as possible, listening to the moving waves and Minghao’s content humming.
“Okay,” he says quietly when he’s finished, like the moment is a spell he can break if he speaks too loudly. He runs a hand through Minghao’s hair. To make sure it’s dry, not because he wants a moment to relish in the simple domesticity of being able to do something for Minghao. “I’m finished.”
Minghao looks up at him with a soft smile, hair fluffy.
“Show me the book now?”
Mingyu looks around, trying to figure out the best way to show Minghao the book while keeping it far away from the water where Minghao is adamant on staying. Ideally, he’d want to stay completely on land, but that would require Minghao coming out of the water. He could sit on the edge of the sand, legs in the water of Minghao’s pool, but the book…
“Just sit here, next to me,” Minghao says, like he can read Mingyu’s mind. “Are you afraid of dropping it in the water?”
The way Mingyu looks around nervously probably tells Minghao everything he needs to know.
“I’m a little clumsy…” Mingyu admits. Minghao sighs and moves his hands to his torso, undoing his—
“Wait, wait, wait—” Mingyu blurts out, waving his hands in front of him, trying to stop Minghao from undressing right in front of him.
Minghao stops, hands pausing.
“What?”
“You—you’re—”
Minghao raises his eyebrows.
“Yes?”
“Why are you—taking off your clothes?” Mingyu’s voice pitches embarrassingly high at the end of his sentence. Minghao gives him a long suffering look and finishes undoing his top. Mingyu covers eyes with his hands.
“It’s waterproof. Wrap the book in it. If it falls, it’ll stay dry.” Mingyu feels a nudge at his elbow and he peeks through his fingers to see Minghao looking at him like he’s a lost cause, holding out his translucent top. “What are you, 6? Humans go around without shirts on all the time.”
“But it’s—” It’s different, because it’s you.
“It’s?” Minghao prompts.
“Um, unexpected. I just didn’t expect you to…take off your shirt in front of me.”
“Unless you’re planning on looking at my chest, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Come on, show me the pictures in the stars.”
Mingyu takes a deep breath to compose himself, because no, that was not in the plans for tonight. Get a grip, Mingyu. He takes his hands off of his face and grabs Minghao’s top with a hand he hopes isn’t too shaky, reaching to grab the book and place it on top of the soft fabric. He dips his feet into the water and hisses from the sudden cold, making Minghao giggle.
Once he’s settled in and much less embarrassed by his own existence, he looks at the sky to see what constellations there are, which ones he can show Minghao. Mingyu thumbs through the book to find the ones he’s looking for, resting on his legs, over Minghao’s top.
Mingyu points up at the sky, tracing invisible patterns he learned as a kid, on warm nights just like this one with his grandparents. It used to feel like magic, the way they could pull these stories out of the sky, but real magic might be in the way Minghao’s bright eyes trace Mingyu's arm up to the stars Mingyu is showing him.
“Up there. That’s the Big Dipper. It’s part of a constellation called Ursa Major. It’s supposed to look like a bear.” He points down at the book, which shows the outline of what the constellation is supposed to look like. Minghao looks at the book, back up to the sky, back down to the book.
“It looks like a spoon.”
Mingyu laughs.
“Well, the spoon is part of the bear. See?” He traces the spoon, the bear. Minghao squints at it.
“I don’t know what a bear is, either.”
“Okay. Let’s make our own constellations then,” Mingyu offers. Minghao brightens, looking back at the sky. He hums thoughtfully before dragging his finger across the sky. Mingyu is convinced that Minghao could rearrange the stars if he wanted to, but he traces lines between the stars instead.
“I think that one looks like a seashell.”
“The Seashell Constellation, then?”
“No. I want to name it Mingyu.”
Mingyu stares at him.
“Why Mingyu?” He manages to ask.
“Seashells remind me of you. Because that’s how we first met.”
“Oh,” Mingyu murmurs. “Then I want to name one Minghao.”
“Okay,” Minghao agrees. He traces another shape in the sky. Mingyu watches his hand. “That one can be Minghao.”
“Why that one?”
“Because it’s next to Mingyu,” Minghao says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Okay,” Mingyu replies weakly, feeling very much like the air has been taken from his lungs. “Those can be Mingyu and Minghao, then.”
Minghao looks up in wonder at the sky, like he didn’t just turn Mingyu’s world upside down, and the moonlight softens all of his features. His brown eyes capture stars that Mingyu wouldn’t be able to see in the sky, beauty that could never be reflected on earth or in the sky. Mingyu feels privileged to see the shine in his eyes.
The waves lap at Mingyu’s knees and the summer breeze blows through Minghao’s fluffy brown hair. He’s caught off guard when Minghao turns to look at him with a smile. No stars could be as beautiful as the shine in Minghao’s eyes when his lips curve.
“Thank you for showing me the stars, Mingyu.”
Mingyu knows then, summer will never be the same for him again.
“Of course, Minghao.”
---
The time Mingyu and Minghao spend together seems like something out of a storybook, a dreamy haze of sunset glinting off the ocean, sand and saltwater, cold hands and sharp teeth. It’s the kind of summer most people would capture in polaroids, friends side by side in swimsuits, tacked up on a corkboard to memorialize a fleeting taste of sunlight and the feeling of sand between your fingers, an ephemeral snapshot of warmth.
Minghao isn’t something that can be trapped in a polaroid, forgotten in the rush of moving to a new house, tucked away in a shoebox that never sees the light of day until you clean out your closet and allow yourself to dwell on it for only a minute before putting it back in a dusty corner, deciding the color-faded image from summer ten years ago was only that.
His smile is too warm, his laugh too bright. The way his sharp eyes soften when he looks at Mingyu can’t be captured in a picture, so Mingyu has no choice but to keep it close to his heart.
“What are you thinking about?” Minghao asks, breaking Mingyu out of his reverie.
You. You, you, you.
“It’s sad that summer will end, isn’t it?” Mingyu blurts out, fidgeting with his hands. Minghao looks at him with a sort of sadness in his eyes before taking Mingyu’s nervous hands in his own, running his fingers across Mingyu’s palms and fingers like he’s trying to memorize every line and scar.
“But you’ll come back, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Mingyu reiterates. Minghao seems to worry about it a lot, and Mingyu never fails to reassure him that they’ll see each other next summer, too. “Every summer.”
Minghao props up his head on one hand, the other still holding Mingyu’s.
“Tell me something about yourself, then,” he says thoughtfully. “Something you’ve never told anyone else. So I can have a piece of you even after this summer is over.”
I’d give you all of me, if you asked.
“My dad told me there were dangerous things on the beach,” Mingyu says after a second of deliberation. “Me and my sister, actually, so we aren’t allowed to go too far down the beach. But I’ve never told anyone else that, so it counts.”
Minghao seems to think for a second before accepting this answer.
“Are there? Dangerous things?”
Mingyu shrugs.
“There are like, crabs and stuff. I’ve gotten pinched by a lot of them, but I don’t really think it’s that big of a deal. I don’t know what he’s so worried about.”
“Do you think it’s us? Mermaids?” Minghao asks curiously.
“You’re not dangerous, Minghao,” Mingyu says confidently. “...I feel safe with you.”
Minghao looks down, fingers on Mingyu’s hand stilling.
“Oh.” A pause. “I feel safe with you too. My parents think humans can be scary, so I’m supposed to avoid them, but…” He looks up again with a soft smile. “I’m glad I met you, Mingyu.”
Mingyu flushes and he hopes it’s getting dark enough that Minghao can’t tell.
“I’m glad I met you too,” Mingyu murmurs. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something about yourself you’ve never told anyone else.”
Minghao hums, going back to mapping Mingyu’s hands with both of his.
“I want to see it. What the world is like on land. I want to explore all of it. That’s what freedom is to me.”
A callback to all those weeks ago, when Minghao guarded his definition of freedom with a strange firmness. Mingyu understands now.
“You’ve really never told anyone that before?”
Minghao pouts up at Mingyu, affronted.
“My parents don’t like humans, so I never felt like I could tell any of my friends since I was raised on the idea that humans are scary. So only you and me know, now.”
“I’d take you anywhere you want to go,” Mingyu says. He imagines it, being able to give Minghao what he wants. He pictures Minghao by his side, inspecting overpriced trinkets, visiting food stalls, showing Minghao his home . Make it his, too.
What a beautiful dream, he thinks.
“I’d love anywhere I’d go with you.”
Mingyu stares at Minghao for a second, his open and honest expression.
“One day. We’ll figure out a way to show you everything I want one day.”
“Oh? Any bright ideas?”
Mingyu purses his lips, thinking.
“What if we got you, like, a super big fish tank, and then we attached wheels onto it—”
“ What? ” Minghao laughs suddenly.
“What? Do you have any better ideas?” Mingyu retorts.
“No, I just wanted to hear what you were gonna come up with,” Minghao says with a giggle.
“I think it’s a pretty good idea,” Mingyu says with a pout.
“Then let’s do it,” Minghao says with a sparkle in his eye. “A super big fish tank with wheels.”
Confronted by the ridiculousness of his own idea when it comes out of Minghao’s much more rational mouth, Mingyu is forced to rethink.
“Okay, maybe something else. We can figure it out.”
“Okay,” Minghao says with a gentle smile. “One day.”
This promise doesn’t mark the end of their time together, a summer caught in technicolor. Mingyu wouldn’t ever dare squeeze Minghao, in all of his open beauty, into film that will fade one day. He knows Minghao will stay in perfect color, his deep eyes, iridescent scales, if Mingyu keeps him in his heart.
It’s where he belongs, after all.
---
“Your teeth,” Minghao says today, reaching up to move Mingyu’s top lip out of the way with his thumb, taking Mingyu aback, not just from the cold touch. “they’re like mine.” He takes his hand away and saltwater drips down Mingyu’s chin.
Mingyu opens his mouth enough so his canines are on display and watches Minghao stare at them in fascination, closing it only when Minghao’s gaze starts to make him self-conscious.
“Is that a bad thing?” Mingyu asks, a little nervously.
“Do you think my teeth are a bad thing?” Minghao pouts.
“No! Of course not!”
“Then why would it be a bad thing for you? I like them,” Minghao asserts.
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
Minghao smiles, regrettably without his teeth. Mingyu wonders what it would be like to touch them, to run his fingers along the sharp ridges and see what they feel like.
“There are lots of things I like about you, Mingyu. You’re very interesting.”
“In a good way?”
Minghao clicks his tongue.
“Why do you have to ask? Everything about you is a good thing.”
Mingyu pauses. Minghao always knows just how to catch him off guard.
“You’re…you’re a good thing too,” Mingyu fumbles.
“Am I interesting too? In a good way?” Minghao teases. Mingyu can feel himself blush.
“Of course you are! You’re the most interesting…” He pauses, considering his words. “person I know.”
There’s a pause and Mingyu worries he said something wrong when Minghao looks down at the sand, shifting it around with a long finger aimlessly.
“Is it because I’m a mermaid?” Minghao asks, sounding uncharacteristically…insecure?
“No!” Mingyu hurries to reassure him. Minghao looks up at him, like he’s searching for something in Mingyu’s gaze, only sincere. “I mean, that’s interesting, but I would like you all the same even if you weren’t a mermaid.”
“Even if I was just a human?”
“You would still be Minghao, right? That’s what I like about you.”
Minghao smiles again, this time with all of his wonderfully sharp teeth.
---
Mingyu takes to showing Minghao things from the human world, intent on giving Minghao everything he can, handing over bits and pieces of his life. Of course, he loves seeing the way Minghao reacts to new things up close and personal, the way they sparkle when he finds something interesting. Minghao, curious as he is, finds most things interesting. Flowers, fireflies, Mingyu’s sunburn after he forgot sunscreen the day before.
(“It’s a tan,” Mingyu explains as the summer progresses and Minghao asks why his skin is darker. He rubs his arm meekly. “...does it look bad? A lot of people have said—”
“What?” Minghao interrupts sharply. “Why does that matter? You look cool. Why do you care about that? You look handsome.”
Mingyu feels his face heat up, even more so when Minghao puts his (pale) hand over Mingyu’s, running absently on his arm.
“...you think so?”
“I know so,” Minghao declares with an air of finality that makes it difficult for Mingyu to disagree.)
“Minghao!” Mingyu calls as he approaches, making sure he doesn’t drop the two ice cream cones clutched in his hands.
Minghao perks up from where he’s balancing several small rocks on top of each other, immediately losing interest in favor of the cones in Mingyu’s hands, looking at them curiously, now balanced on his elbows.
“Ice cream?”
“You know what it is?” Mingyu asks, sitting down. Minghao rolls his eyes.
“I know about most things if people come onto the beach with them. I’m very good at eavesdropping.”
Mingyu laughs.
“Have you tried it before?”
Minghao shakes his head and reaches out.
“I didn’t know what flavor you’d like, so I got lemon sorbet and mint chocolate chip.” Mingyu hands him the mint chocolate chip first and Minghao takes it gently, inspecting it. Mingyu watches as Minghao takes his first, tentative lick, immediately recoiling, making Mingyu laugh.
“It’s cold! You didn’t tell me it’s cold!”
“I’m sorry,” Mingyu apologizes, not very sorry at all, through laughter. “Why did you think it was called ice cream?” Minghao’s offended frown softens his heart. “Is it good though?”
Minghao glares at him half-heartedly before taking another lick, this one even more tentative than the first. He licks his lips and Mingyu hopes his gaze doesn’t linger too long.
“It’s good,” Minghao says with a smile. “It tastes good.”
“Try this one too,” Mingyu says, holding out the lemon sorbet. Minghao leans in and licks that one too. His eyes widen.
“Mm!”
Mingyu can’t help but feel like his heart might beat right out of his chest from how happy Minghao looks right now.
“Do you like it?”
“Mm. I like that one too.”
“Which one do you like better?”
Minghao takes a moment to think, leaning in to taste the lemon sorbet again.
“I like both of them,” he concludes.
“Okay. You can have both of them, then,” Mingyu offers, holding the lemon sorbet out to Minghao, who looks back at him in surprise.
“What about you? Don’t you want one?”
“If you like them I want you to have them both. They’re for you.”
Minghao furrows his eyebrows, clearly unwilling to accept the offer.
“Here,” Minghao says, holding up the lemon sorbet cone. “You try some too.”
“I already told you you can have both of them.”
“I want to share.”
Mingyu is about to protest again, giving into his desire to give Minghao anything he wants but Minghao raises his eyebrows, pointedly pushing the cone to Mingyu’s face, and who is Mingyu to deny him anything? He takes a lick and the way Minghao watches him makes him feel a little self-conscious.
Indirect kiss , Mingyu’s mind supplies unhelpfully.
“Good?” Minghao asks, excitedly.
Mingyu nods.
“Good.” Minghao takes another few thoughtful licks of his ice cream. “Thank you, Mingyu.”
“Of course. I’ll bring you another flavor next time, too.”
“Aren’t there a lot of them? I see people holding so many colors on the beach.”
“I’ll bring you anything you want.”
Minghao grins, sharp teeth poking out. For that smile, Mingyu thinks he might give Minghao anything. The thought doesn’t scare him.
---
Minghao’s hands are always wet, always cold, but they make Mingyu feel warm when he holds them. Minghao absently plays with his fingers as Mingyu talks about his day, trying to stay focused on describing the dog he saw on his way back from beach volleyball and not Minghao’s squid ink nail polish.
The sun is beginning to set though, and Mingyu has to confront the worst part of his day.
“It’s time for me to get going,” Mingyu says sadly. Minghao stops fidgeting with Mingyu’s fingers, instead holding them tightly.
“You always say that. It’s like it happens every day.”
Mingyu laughs.
“Sunset happens every day. I can’t help it.”
Minghao sticks out his lower lip in a pout, averting his eyes and tapping a rhythm onto the tips of Mingyu’s fingers.
“If it were up to me, the sun would never set. And you could stay here forever,” Minghao says quietly, almost too quiet for Mingyu to hear over the crashing waves in the distance, over the sound of his own pounding heartbeat. Oh .
Mingyu carefully takes Minghao’s fingers in his own, making him look up. The words stick in the back of his throat like saltwater taffy, but he forces himself to let the sweet words roll off his tongue.
“You know if I could I would, right?” Mingyu admits softly.
“Would you?” Minghao asks quietly, hopefully. “Stay with me?”
“Forever.”
Minghao smiles, sharp teeth peeking through his pink lips. Mingyu stares for maybe a second too long.
“In the meantime, I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Minghao acquiesces, withdrawing his hands. Mingyu stands up, brushing sand off of his legs. “Goodnight, Mingyu.”
“Goodnight, Minghao.”
Mingyu can feel Minghao watching him as he leaves. His hands feel strange when they’re dry and warm.
To alleviate Minghao’s absence, he taps on his own fingers the same rhythm Minghao had been earlier, to hold onto a small part of Minghao’s presence.
Forever.
It’s sad, really. That Minghao can’t come with him. He aches to bring Minghao home with him, tell his parents he made a friend, that his friend also happens to be the prettiest boy he’s ever seen with a disarming smile and charming laugh, a warm personality contrasting with his cold hands. He wants to take Minghao all of the places he talks about, show him all of the things he’s seen today personally. Mingyu will tell Minghao everything about everything he can’t see, to let Minghao carve a space into his summer, into his heart.
Minghao isn’t just ‘dangerous things on the beach’. Minghao is simply who he is, a pretty boy made of sharp teeth and squid ink, saltwater and sunlight, living under crashing waves and Mingyu’s beating heart.
Mingyu wants to take Minghao everywhere he goes. Hold his hand. Sit side by side with him as they watch the sun set. His lips. Oh. His lips. Mingyu swallows. He…he wants to kis—
Fuck —
A sharp pain twists up his leg, feeling the agonizing pain before he feels his ankle bend unnaturally over a piece of driftwood he didn’t notice while lost in his thoughts about Minghao. He falls to the ground, thankfully cushioned by the sand, just outside his grandparents’ house, but all he can focus on is the burning sensation overtaking the area around his ankle. Unwisely, he clutches at it desperately, as if that would help alleviate the pain, but he only succeeds in making it worse, letting out a wounded cry.
Uh oh, is his last thought before he sees his grandparents rush out the front door, eyes wide open in panic. Now how is he gonna see Minghao?
He blacks out.
---
For the next two weeks, Mingyu is effectively trapped in his grandparents’ house, but he’s never felt more restless. His grandparents and parents simply attribute it to not liking wasting the last few weeks of his summer indoors, which is almost true, if there wasn’t a cute mermaid boy involved in the equation, waiting for him.
“I miss the beach,” Mingyu says when his grandma asks why he spends so much time looking longingly out the window. She pats him on the back comfortingly.
“The beach will always be waiting for you.”
Will Minghao, he wonders?
He hates making Minghao wait on him. He doesn’t want to make Minghao feel lonely or risk Minghao deciding he’s waited enough and leaving. There’s a sharp pain in his chest when Mingyu imagines it.
So the moment his grandparents and parents are even hesitantly okay with Mingyu going back down to the beach, Mingyu is out of the door with hardly a goodbye to spare.
Mingyu remembers to put as little pressure on his ankle as possible as he hobbles his way down to their cove, with whatever part of his brain that isn’t occupied with Minghao, Minghao, Minghao.
Much to his relief, surprise, and joy, Mingyu finds a familiar head of dark hair, long fingers aimlessly tracing idle patterns in the sand, shoulders slumped.
“Minghao!” He calls excitedly. Minghao whips his head around so fast Mingyu worries he might have hurt his neck, but his face lights up when he sees Mingyu make his way over.
“Mingyu!”
With much less finesse, Mingyu finally collapses onto his rightful place in front of Minghao’s little pool. Without warning, Minghao pulls himself right out of the water, engulfing Mingyu in a cold and wet hug, knocking him backwards into the sand. He’s not sure if the wetness in the crook of his neck is sea water or tears, but from the way Minghao shakes and holds onto him like he’ll disappear again if he doesn’t hold onto him like a lifeline, Mingyu worries it might be the latter. He relaxes, ignoring the sudden flash of pain in his ankle that came with him falling over, holding Minghao close and stroking the back of his dry hair. How long has he been waiting here for Mingyu?
“Oh, Minghao…” Mingyu whispers, voice shaking as much as Minghao’s shoulders. His shirt is getting wet, ocean water and tears soaking into the fabric, but he couldn’t care less, not when he knows he’s made Minghao cry. “I’m so sorry I left you here all alone.”
“Where have you been?” Minghao asks wetly, voice muffled in Mingyu’s neck.
“I sprained my ankle—”
“You what?!” Minghao pulls back, hands on Mingyu’s shoulders. His eyes frantically trail down Mingyu’s body and before landing on his ankle, still in a splint. Mingyu wonders absently if he knows what an ankle is. “Are you okay?!”
“For the last two weeks, not really. My parents and grandparents wouldn’t let me leave the house because it’s hard to walk on the sand with crutches and they didn’t want me to trip again.”
“You tripped?”
“Uh, on a piece of driftwood, coming home.” He tactfully leaves out the thought that distracted him, making him trip to begin with.
“You should really be more careful,” Minghao admonishes, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Minghao’s eyes are still a little red from crying but he still cares so much about Mingyu’s wellbeing. It makes his heart clench in his chest.
“I’m okay enough to come back here,” Mingyu reassures, taking Minghao’s hands in his. The concern melts off Minghao’s face and gives way to some sort of guilt.
“You don’t have to overexert yourself just to come back…” Minghao mumbles.
“I missed you,” Mingyu says simply.
Minghao looks up at him, blinking, and looks away.
“I missed you too,” he responds quietly, with a little sniffle. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back.”
“No, no,” Mingyu is quick to deny. “I’ll always come back. I was thinking about you the entire time.”
Mingyu has no idea what possesses him to be this vulnerable, this honest about his feelings with Minghao. Maybe it’s the way Minghao looks at him like he’s completely transparent, like there’s nothing Mingyu can hide from him. Maybe there isn’t.
Minghao smiles, a soft thing, and Mingyu would tell him time and time again how much he thinks about Minghao if his eyes curve like that every time.
“I was thinking about you too. I get so lonely when you’re gone.”
“I was lonely without you too. My parents and grandparents thought I was sad because I was missing out on the beach but it was because I missed you,” Mingyu confesses. “My grandma said the beach would always be waiting for me. But I worried if I was gone too long you wouldn’t be waiting for me anymore.”
Minghao holds Mingyu’s hands tightly.
“I wait for you every day. I’ll keep waiting for you every day, as long as you come back.”
“I will. I will.”
It feels like they’re trading secrets, exchanging pieces of their hearts, trusting the other to hold it tight, keep it safe, and give some of their own back. Mingyu holds Minghao’s feelings carefully, in calloused palms; hands his own for Minghao to hold delicately with slender fingers.
Mingyu trusts him. He’ll make sure Minghao can trust him too.
---
Towards the end of the summer, Mingyu finally makes good on one of his promises from when he and Minghao first met and comes by with some cheap acrylic paints, a brush, and a small canvas, all bundled up in a towel.
“Hi,” Mingyu greets, unfurling the bundle of supplies in front of Minghao, who eyes them intently. “Do you remember when I told you about painting?”
“Oh! I’ve seen people use these things on the beach before. I didn’t know they were for painting,” Minghao muses, inspecting the materials in detail. When he looks up at Mingyu, a second towel around his neck, he frowns. “Are you going to dry me off again?”
“Even your arms this time,” Mingyu explains, to which Minghao frowns more deeply. “The paints are gonna be thinned out by water and the canvas will probably get damaged too. I’ll get you a better one, one day.”
Minghao’s face softens, probably at the mention of ‘one day’. They’ve been saying it more often, promising each other what they’ll show the other, what they’ll see together, what they’ll do together. One day. Mingyu loves basking in the unspoken promises they make, the excitement that comes with dreaming of what they can be, relishing in the way it seems to make Minghao just as excited.
“Okay,” Minghao agrees. He reaches out his arms to Mingyu, avoiding the painting supplies laid out next to him, but it doesn’t look like he wants to grab the towel himself.
“Do you want me to do it for you?”
Minghao nods. Mingyu sighs affectionately. This is the least he’d do for Minghao.
There’s a sort of reverence in the way Mingyu dries Minghao off. From his hair, his shoulders, his arms, he treats every part of Minghao gently, and he can feel Minghao’s gaze boring into him. He pats gently at Minghao’s chest and tries really, really hard to not make it awkward. Meanwhile, Minghao observes the materials Mingyu has set before him carefully.
“There,” Mingyu announces quietly when he’s finished. Minghao rubs his arms together, clearly unfamiliar with the sudden dryness of his skin. “Sorry. It looks uncomfortable. For you to be dry, I mean.”
“It’s okay,” Minghao says easily. He looks like he’s only a moment away from dipping back in the water. “I want to experience everything you give to me.”
I want to share everything with you, Mingyu wants to say. I’ll give you anything.
“Even if it’s dry skin?”
Minghao’s lips twist.
“...maybe. We’ll see if this is worth it,” he establishes.
“Do you know how to do this?” Mingyu asks, laying out all the materials neatly. Minghao nods confidently.
“I’ve seen lots of people do it before. I’m really glad I get to try. Thank you, Mingyu.”
Minghao’s smile creases his eyes and Mingyu wants to kiss him so bad it’s not even funny. He valiantly resists the urge.
“Of course.” Anything for you.
Minghao carefully observes everything before him, inspecting the brush, the canvas, and every tube of paint. Mingyu suddenly remembers he should have brought an easel with him. A minor (major) inconvenience and oversight. Minghao, however, does not think this is much of an inconvenience.
“Here,” he says, positioning the canvas against Mingyu’s crossed legs. “Hold this. Stay still.”
“I’ll do my best,” Mingyu promises. “What are you going to paint?”
Minghao hums.
“You’ll see.”
Mingyu isn’t sure how much time passes as he watches Minghao paint with broad, confident strokes; a natural talent. He listens to seagulls caw and the waves slowly crash onto faraway rocks, Minghao intensely focused on his painting in front of him. Mingyu, in return, is focused on Minghao. There’s something so beautiful about him when he’s dedicating all of his attention to something, his face both soft and determined. From this angle, he can count Minghao’s every eyelash when he looks down at the bottom of the canvas. He’s so, so pretty.
“You’re staring,” Minghao says, not looking up from his painting. Mingyu flushes.
“What else is there for me to look at?”
“I’m not complaining,” Minghao replies with a soft smile. He looks up at Mingyu, still smiling and his heart seizes.
And so he watches. He’s glad Minghao has returned all of his focus to his painting or else he’d see Mingyu’s fond, fond gaze.
“I’m done,” Minghao finally announces.
“Can I see?”
Minghao smiles proudly as he turns around the canvas.
It’s gorgeous. He’s captured the sun setting over the ocean, oranges and yellows scattering across the ripples of vibrant blue waters. It’s stylized, but it matches the scene right in front of Mingyu well, the sunset before him coloring the planes of Minghao’s face. He’s got a crazy eye for color even though he’s never used it before. He’s so talented.
“Wow. I can’t believe you’ve never painted before.”
Minghao’s smile grows.
“I had a lot of really good inspiration.”
“So was it worth it? Being dry?”
Minghao taps his finger on his chin in faux thought before nodding decisively.
“It was worth it. Thank you for doing this for me.”
“Anything,” Mingyu blurts out, blushing immediately. Minghao giggles. “Um. So what do you want to do with it?” Mingyu asks, trying to pretend like he didn’t just admit that.
Minghao stares at the painting for a long while like he’s assessing it.
“I want to take it with me,” he decides. If Minghao notices the way Mingyu tries really hard to subtly look away when Minghao is undoing his top again to gently wrap the painting up, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, “I want to remember this summer forever.”
Minghao looks up at Mingyu with starry eyes, long fingers brushing along the edges of the canvas.
“Me too. I’ll never forget it,” Mingyu promises.
---
In no world that he spends with Minghao does summer last long enough. Today, too, he sits down cross-legged in a familiar divot in the sand. He doesn’t always arrive at the same time, but Minghao is always there, waiting for him no matter the time of day.
(“Do you do anything else?” Mingyu asks through a mouthful of ice cream one day. “Like, except wait for me. I don’t mean that in a bad way, just—you’re always here waiting for me.”
“Of course,” Minghao replies simply. “I spend time with you.”
Mingyu can’t help the flush on his cheeks. Certainly it’s because it’s the height of summer.
“Aren’t there more interesting things to do here?”
“It’s my vacation. I get to spend it how I want.”
If Minghao thinks his time is best spent with Mingyu, he won’t complain. The sentiment doesn’t go unshared.)
“We went out to our favorite restaurant in town today,” Mingyu recounts his day to Minghao, who listens intently, holding onto Mingyu’s hands like second nature. “We don’t normally go there, but…”
Minghao tilts his head at Mingyu’s pause.
“But?”
Mingyu swallows, not ready to rip the bandaid off. They’ve skirted around it all summer, both of them silently pretending like if Mingyu never gave a date to his departure then it wouldn’t happen, that they wouldn’t truly have to prepare for the unavoidable. More of a concept than it was an inevitable, but the sun always sets, polaroids fade, and summer ends.
“It’s because, uh. It’s my last day here. I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Oh…” Minghao looks down at the sand, wilting. It breaks Mingyu’s heart. “You’ll…you’ll come back, right?”
Mingyu smoothes a hand down the side of Minghao’s wet hair, prompting Minghao to look up at Mingyu.
“Of course. I come back every year, remember? And I’ll definitely come back to see you.”
“...promise?”
“I promise.” Mingyu holds out his pinky. Minghao stares at it after a moment, grabs it with his whole hand and stares at Mingyu. Mingyu tries to suppress a laugh, but a fond smile overtakes his face nonetheless as he maneuvers Minghao’s cold hand to intertwine pinkies. “It’s called a pinky promise. I’m not allowed to break it.”
Minghao finally smiles.
“Okay. I’ll see you next year then.”
Mingyu nods and tries not to show his disappointment when Minghao lets go, but he unfolds Mingyu’s fingers into an open palm. Mingyu watches with interest as Minghao fiddles underwater for something and gently presses a dry silk bag into his hand. Through the thin material, Mingyu can tell there’s something in it, but it’s slightly thicker than the material of Minghao’s top, so he can’t tell what.
“Is this for me?”
Minghao nods, eyes flicking downward. He gnaws on his lip.
“When you sprained your ankle…you didn’t come back.” Before Mingyu can apologize again, Minghao keeps talking. “And—I was worried about you. Because I didn’t know where you were. And…I missed you.” He motions to the bag, still not looking up. “You can open it.”
Obediently, Mingyu gently undoes the knot closing the bag and gingerly takes out the—oh.
It’s a pearl bracelet, resembling the pearls draped around Minghao’s waist. The pearls, iridescent, seem to change color in the sunlight that peeks through their cave. Mingyu holds it with reverence, like it’ll somehow break if he holds onto them too hard. It reminds him of the shell he found that day, the one that Minghao still happily wears behind his ear, but so much more beautiful. They’re cold to the touch as Mingyu gently rubs his fingers along the perfectly spherical pearls.
“Are these…?”
Mingyu is almost too scared to say it out loud, the idea of Minghao crying for him too much to bear.
“I cried,” Minghao admits quietly. “Because I didn’t know where you were. And if you were okay. I was afraid you left me.”
Before he can stop himself, Mingyu reaches out to grab Minghao’s face with both hands, bracelet dangling from his fingers, urging Minghao to look up at him. It almost looks like he’ll cry again.
“I could never leave you,” Mingyu says softly. Minghao looks at him petulantly.
“Not for longer than I have to,” Mingyu corrects himself. “I’ll come back.”
“You pinky promised,” Minghao reminds him before taking Mingyu’s hands in his, gently slipping the bracelet on his right wrist. “In the meantime…I hope you remember me every time you see it.”
“Thank you, Minghao. It’s beautiful. Even without it, I wouldn’t be able to forget you anyway,” Mingyu confesses. He takes off his bracelet and moves it onto his left wrist. Minghao looks at him in question.
“I’m left handed. I’ll see the bracelet and think about you more often this way.”
Minghao’s soft smile, even without his charmingly sharp teeth, could be the sole reason Mingyu comes back, year after year.