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Seonghyeon has a deep, personal vendetta against the sun.
Not for any normal reason, of course. Not because it’s hot, or bright, no.
Seonghyeon hates the sun because it created Ahn Keonho’s tan.
Which is ridiculous. Humiliating, even. But every villain has an origin story, and unfortunately his began the moment Keonho came back from spring break a shade darker and smiling like he wasn’t actively ruining lives.
Including Seonghyeon’s.
This morning starts with sunlight slipping through the crack in his curtains and landing directly across his face as if mocking his struggles.
Seonghyeon glares at it with pure hatred.
The sun, naturally, shines harder.
“Oh, screw you,” he mutters, glaring at the ceiling instead after the light burns spots into his vision. Somewhere out there, eight entire planets revolve around that thing. Society worships it. Farmers love it. Tourists adore it.
Meanwhile Seonghyeon is out here beefing with a celestial body because it made Keonho unfairly attractive.
(Seonghyeon has tried and failed to convince himself that his reaction is reasonable many times.)
To make matters worse, summer break had officially started a week ago, which meant freedom from classes, freedom from exams, and unfortunately, freedom from shirts.
Specifically Keonho’s shirts.
Seonghyeon doesn’t know when exactly Keonho decided fabric was optional, but apparently once the temperature went above twenty degrees, the man had simply decided being shirtless was part of his lifestyle now.
And nobody cared, that was the worst part.
It seemed to only be Seonghyeon who felt his mouth go dry every time Keonho knocked on the door and sauntered in with his newly acquired abs because Seonghyeon had decided last year that being seventeen was an ideal age to start hitting the gym and of course Keonho tagged along.
Ever since then, Seonghyeon has had to practice adapting to a life of incredible restraint so he didn't do something crazy like put his hands around Keonho's waist and map out the line of his abs with his fingertips.
Martin had actually high-fived him the first time he showed up shirtless, proceeding to throw his own t-shirt off during a particularly intense round of Mariokart. Juhoon hadn’t even looked up from his phone.
Meanwhile, Seonghyeon has been suffering ever since then.
Just like today.
James had texted the groupchat last night about meeting at the town pool to go swimming for a while, to which everyone easily agreed. Luckily, Seonghyeon had younger brother priviliges, meaning he could hitch a ride with James when he left the house.
“You ready?" Said boy knocks on Seonghyeons door before opening it and peeking his head in. Seonghyeon shuts his laptop, scrapping a beat that not even Martin could save, and tosses it aside.
"Yeah, toss me my bag?" Seonghyeon gestures to the bag placed beside his door then goes to the corner of the room to find his sandals, catching the bag when James throws it at him.
"Wait." James puts out a hand to stop him when Seonghyeon reaches the door. "You got your inflatable armbands?" James has the audacity to ask with a serious face, making Seonghyeon groan loudly.
"Oh my god shut up, Hyung." He rolls his eyes, lightly pushing James out of the doorway so he could leave. James just cackles behind him, following him outside to the car.
—
Martin and Juhoon are waiting outside the pool entrance when they arrive.
Martin is somehow carrying five pool noodles at once looking like an overworked single mother, while Juhoon stands beside him sipping iced coffee with the calm expression of a man who has accepted that this is his life now.
“Where’s Keonho?” James asks.
“On the way,” Juhoon says. “He had to grab something for his mom.”
“Oh, I didn't see the text.”
“You never see the texts.”
“Preserving battery life.”
“You were on tiktok for six hours yesterday?”
James ignores him completely.
Seonghyeon, meanwhile, is already marching toward the entrance before he melts into a puddle on the pavement.
By the time they get through the changing rooms and survive the stampede of screaming children, Seonghyeon immediately claims one of the shaded lounge chairs like a warrior conquering territory.
Martin passes out water bottles before announcing, “I’m gonna do a flip.”
“You can’t do a flip,” Juhoon replies instantly.
“Not with that attitude.”
Juhoon sighs the sigh of a man aged beyond his years and follows him anyway to record what will probably become evidence in a future lawsuit.
James wanders off in search of ice cream.
Peace settles in for approximately three minutes, then someone slaps Seonghyeon directly on the thigh.
He startles violently and looks up only to immediately forget every language he speaks.
Keonho grins down at him, eyes curved into crescents beneath a navy cap. He’s wearing blue swim shorts hanging low on his hips, flip-flops, and absolutely nothing else.
Seonghyeon’s brain stops working.
The sun has no business making someone look like that.
Keonho’s skin glows golden under the heat, faint sweat catching across his shoulders and chest like he belongs in a modelling agency. His curls are loose today too, soft and messy around the edges from humidity.
It should be illegal.
“Yah,” Seonghyeon says weakly, because apparently his survival instincts have abandoned him. “Don’t hit me, idiot.”
Keonho laughs and drops his bag onto the chair beside him before looking around. “Where are the others?”
“Martin’s trying to kill himself with a backflip. Juhoon’s filming it for legal reasons. Hyung’s getting ice cream.”
“Hm.” Keonho nudges Seonghyeon’s legs apart to sit down beside him, entirely too close. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Why aren’t you swimming?”
Because I’m trying not to stare at your chest like a victorian man seeing ankles for the first time, Seonghyeon thinks to himself.
Instead he says, “The pools too busy.”
Keonho laughs.
Then Seonghyeon notices something.
“…Did you put on sunscreen?”
Keonho pauses. Looks down at himself.
“…Ah.”
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
“..I wore my cap?”
“That’s not sunscreen.”
Keonho scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and Seonghyeon against every self-preserving instinct in his body leans over and grabs his own bottle from his bag.
“Here,” he mutters. “Before you end up looking like a boiled lobster.”
“The insults are unnecessary.”
“They’re actually essential.”
Keonho laughs under his breath and squeezes sunscreen into his palm, and then Seonghyeon makes the catastrophic mistake of watching.
Because Keonho starts rubbing it over his arms slowly, smoothing it over warm golden skin and toned muscle like he’s deliberately trying to ruin someone’s life. (Spoiler alert: he's succeeding.)
Seonghyeon pulls his sunglasses over his eyes in a pathetic attempt to hide the fact that he’s staring.
It doesn’t help.
Nothing helps, especially not when Keonho moves to his chest.
Seonghyeon nearly ascends into another dimension.
The sunscreen glistens as Keonho spreads it over his pecs, over the defined lines of his stomach, fingers sliding down beneath his abs—
Oh, he’s going to die here right beside the pool.
What an embarrassing death - local teenage boy found deceased beside public pool. Cause of death? Ahn Keonho’s torso.
Keonho suddenly turns toward him with a bright smile.
“Hyung, do my back?”
Seonghyeon’s soul leaves his body immediately.
“What?”
“My back.” Keonho shakes the bottle. “I can’t reach.”
“Do it yourself.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Figure it out.”
“Cruel.”
Seonghyeon looks around desperately for help, but James is still gone, Martin is upside down somewhere near the deep end, and Juhoon has probably accepted the other boys fate and walked away.
There is no escape.
“Fine,” Seonghyeon mutters. “Turn around.”
Keonho complies immediately, shuffling closer until he’s sitting between Seonghyeon’s legs.
Which feels very dangerous.
Seonghyeon stares at the broad expanse of his back and briefly considers drowning himself instead.
The sunscreen feels cold against his palm. That helps for about half a second. Then he touches Keonho’s skin and Keonho inhales sharply.
“Stay still,” Seonghyeon says instantly, mostly because if he acknowledges that sound for longer than two seconds he'll pass away.
“Sorry,” Keonho laughs softly.
Seonghyeon spreads the sunscreen carefully across his shoulders, trying very hard to act normal while his heart threatens to burst inside his ribcage.
Keonho’s skin is warm beneath his hands.
Too warm. Too smooth.
Seonghyeon’s fingers slide accidentally around his waist and-
Oh, that was a mistake.
Because now he knows exactly how narrow Keonho’s waist is compared to his shoulders, and that information is going to haunt him forever.
His second hand joins the first before he can stop himself, both palms resting briefly against Keonho’s waist while he stares hard enough to tattoo the sight on the inside of his eyelids.
For one glorious, horrifying moment, Seonghyeon thinks he finally understands why people write poetry.
Then Keonho shivers.
Seonghyeon jerks his hands away like he’s been electrocuted.
“I think that’s enough-"
“Can you do the front too?”
Seonghyeon almost swallows his tongue.
“…What?”
“I missed a spot.”
Keonho turns around, and suddenly he’s way too close. Close enough for Seonghyeon to see the faint flush dusting across his cheeks. Close enough to notice Keonho refusing to meet his eyes.
“Here,” Keonho says quietly, tapping just above his chest.
Seonghyeon stares at the spot like it personally offended him.
Then, with the dignity of a man walking toward his own execution, he reaches forward.
The second his cold hand touches Keonho’s skin, Keonho’s abs twitch. Seonghyeon nearly audibly whimpers.
“Sorry,” Keonho mutters quickly. “Cold.”
Sure. Right.. Cold.
That’s definitely why both of them look seconds away from spontaneous combustion.
Seonghyeon rubs the sunscreen in as fast as possible before he dies from heart failure.
“There,” he says hoarsely. “Done.”
Keonho finally looks at him properly and something shifts.
The noise of the pool fades weirdly into the background. Seonghyeon can only focus on Keonho’s eyes, dark and intent and fixed on him in a way that makes his stomach flip violently.
He looks like he’s about to say something, then-
“Fuck—GRAB THE CONES!”
James barrels toward them holding four melting ice creams like a man fleeing a natural disaster.
The moment shatters instantly.
Keonho jumps up to help him, laughing as he takes two cones before they completely collapse.
Ice cream drips down his fingers and Seonghyeon watches, utterly doomed, as Keonho absentmindedly licks it away.
Yeah, the sun can go to hell.