The sun shines bright and waves crash against the shore as ten boys run into the sea in a frenzy, yelling and shouting and splashing each other in the face quite violently. Junmyeon laughs and shakes his head at them from the car, folding his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes in a wide circle. “I must say,” he shouts back at the van, where Yixing’s still putting on his swimming trunks, “this wasn’t such a bad idea.”

A snort is heard, accompanied with a loud bang and a yelp. “When did I ever have a bad idea? I’m a mothering genius. I have a brain the size of a planet.”

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow at that because well, Yixing may very well be a genius (their late night conversations left him no room for doubt on that one), but he can definitely recall a few of the younger’s idea that went terribly wrong, like the romantic dinner in one of the practice rooms that ended up with both of them being covered in a very thick coat of mashed potato (don’t ask; Junmyeon would like to forget that mishap ever happened, to be very very honest). He’s just about to open his mouth and remind Yixing of the infamous Porcupine Accident, but then he spins around and his mouth clanks itself shut; this is going to be harder than he thought.

Yixing steps out of the van in a pair of black swimming trunks and nothing more; the sun hits his marble skin and the wind coming from the ocean blows his hair into his eyes as a pack of seagulls fly above, and Junmyeon wonders when he stopped living real life and entered a really cheesy shojou manga. The younger smiles and the sea hums behind them as Junmyeon swallows thickly and stares at his boyfriend, wondering what he did in his (probably awesome) past life to deserve this perfect man.

A few waves crash by the shore before the radiant smile on Yixing’s face melts into an embarrassed expression and his arms automatically rise to cover his bare chest. “I should put on a t-shirt, right,” he mumbles weakly, turning to enter the van once again. “I knew I was too pale for this, what was I thinking—”

The rest of his quiet rant is cut off by a truly enormous seashell that hits Junmyeon’s back. The older yelps indignantly and whips around to face a smiling and dripping wet Sehun, standing knee-deep in the shallow water of the ocean. “Hyung, are you coming?” He shouts, and Junmyeon is immediately spared from the need to answer him when Zitao wraps his arms around the scrawny maknae and tackles him into the water enthusiastically, letting out a big whoop of pleasure at Sehun’s loud protests.

Junmyeon turns back to face the van and Yixing’s already inside, rummaging through his bag in search for the t-shirt he came with.

It takes the older less than a second to leap into the car and grab Yixing’s hands in his, squeezing them lightly. Yixing’s always been more than a little uncomfortable with his body, saying he was too skinny and pale and a lot of other unpleasant things, and Junmyeon didn’t get it, he really didn’t; to him, Yixing was the most beautiful thing nature has ever come up with, the most perfect and complete work of art the universe has ever seen, and it pained him that the younger couldn’t see that. He sighs.

"You don’t have to," he tells Yixing softly, bringing the younger’s hands to his lips and kissing the knuckles. "It’s okay, Xing, you’re okay. You don’t have to hide.”

And Yixing’s eyes are wide with hesitance and fear and he shakes his head slowly, looking down and giving a small chuckle. “You don’t understand,” he says quietly, and it hurts because Junmyeon wants to understand, wants it more than anything; he wants Yixing to feel better. His lips brush the younger’s forehead and he waits for Yixing to explain, because he always does; it may take him a while, but he always does eventually, and Junmyeon’s so so thankful for that.

Time passes and the waves sound more and more distant with each passing moment and finally, finally, Yixing speaks.

"I’m not… confident. Never am, never have been." A sad smile graces the younger’s lips and Junmyeon scoots closer, pressing their foreheads together. "I can’t just march out there in nothing but my swimming trunks because I don’t want to be exposed. I don’t want them to look at me."

Junmyeon furrows his brow at that. “Who? The guys?”

The younger nods. “They’re all so okay with themselves and I don’t get it. And I don’t want them to judge me.”

A gull screeches overhead and Junmyeon smiles, his hand coming up to cup Yixing’s cheeks, tilting his head up so they can look each other in the eye. Yixing’s scared and tense and the older shakes his head and presses a kiss to the tip of his boyfriend’s nose because he’s so scared of everything and that’s not how Zhang Yixing should live; Zhang Yixing should live big and loud and free and what other people think. Junmyeon laughs.

"They won’t judge you," he assures him, pressing his lips against the younger’s and pulling him closer, shuffling awkwardly in the small back seat of the van. "They won’t, I promise you they won’t. I’m here and I love you and I promise you they won’t, okay?"

It takes minutes, hours, days, but finally Yixing smiles and kisses back, nodding as he pulls away. “Okay,” he agrees quietly. “Okay.”

So Junmyeon grabs his hand and pulls him out of the van and they both run across on hot white sand and the wind hits them hard and the water’s cold when they clash with the waves and they topple over into the ocean in a large splash. The gulls float overhead and Yixing waves at them and shouts out and Junmyeon’s finally happy.

This is how Zhang Yixing should live; big and loud and free and what other people think.