Sungmin takes off his cap and flicks the sweat from his forehead for what seems like the hundredth time. It’s for a second that he regrets wearing it, a sigh of exasperation escaping his lips. His fingers brush through the damp, splitting strands of his hair, pushing them flat against his scalp as if to wring out the lingering drops of perspiration and chlorine. 

Jinseong’s upper lip curls in an unmistakeable mixture of contempt and disbelief. Sungmin doesn’t notice. She steps in front of him, their shoulders bumping on her way there, two or three paces ahead despite the lazy ache in her legs. Sungmin huffs, but the ice cream shop is only a few more blocks away, just far enough that Jinseong’s ears could make out the faint jingle of the knotted bells dangling from the door frame.

She can almost taste the vanilla on her tongue, washing away the muck and sweat of the waning summer. The mere thought is enough to replace her frown with a small, curling smile. With such an extravagantly delicious goal set in mind, she doesn’t want to look back – not when she’s so close. A tap on her arm reminds her she’s the one without a wallet, and she groans, her entire body slumping. 

That stupid, sweaty hat is sitting on Sungmin’s head again, turned backwards as if it would prevent the sun from beating down on him. But he’s grinning in some odd form of self-satisfaction, his eyes narrowing as they follow the upward movement of his cheeks. It doesn’t help that he’s facing the sun. Jinseong purses her lips and finds him ridiculous, but there’s a part of her that wants to kiss him.

“I can’t believe you abandoned me,” he says dramatically, his eyes widening comically as he turns away to focus on the last few steps of their venture. He pouts, pushing out his bottom lip and scrunching his eyebrows together until he seems less upset and more constipated. Jinseong attempts to swallow her giggles and places the back of her hand over , muffling the sputtering giggles pushing through. “You know you can’t eat ice cream without my wallet. How silly of you.”

Jinseong exhales through her nose to compose herself, though a stray giggle escapes before she’s able to quirk her lips to the side. “I should have taken your money and run.” Sungmin gasps. He clutches at his shirt and he remains still, his expression frozen in astonishment. Jinseong snorts and laughs again, taking a step back to reach for his hand. She wants to tug him along, but she remembers where they are with a start. “I-It’s really hot,” she stutters, a wave of heat settling in her cheeks, “and I’m not going to wait for ice cream. You, of all people, should know that.” 

“I don’t know if I would say out of all people.” Sungmin takes his cap off again. There’s no teasing this time, only silence. He presses the side of his arm against his forehead to obscure the lowering of his eyes and the sigh that accompanies it. Crossed arms, fidgeting, a gaze turned away from him – it’s a picture of pain he wishes he could fix. He would, if he could. If it were only up to him. “Most people, sure, but all?” Every other couple passing by, swinging their hands between them – they were lucky. “That’s giving me far too much credit, Hyukjae.”

Jinseong opens the door to the ice cream shop by the time he finishes speaking, and the glaring reminder of a name she no longer wants makes her stomach twist in knots far too complicated to come undone. She doesn’t hear the jingling of the bells suspended on the door. Sungmin’s still smiling when he walks inside – all teeth and the slightest peek of gums when the cold air eases the burning of his skin – and she forces herself to do the same. 

She hopes he wants to stop hurting her. Though he’s oblivious, missing information she doesn’t trust anyone with, it hurts. All she has left is the sliver of hope that maybe things could work in her favor, that she could finally feel at ease. Only with him; that’s all she wants.

She lets the door push her inside so as to let it close gently, the harmonious chime of the bells reaching her ears just in time to calm her raring thoughts. There’s a wave of inclemency, a great contrast from the temperature outside, not too strong but none too mild – and she drapes her arms around her waist as best she can, rubbing against the thin shirt to calm the rising goosebumps. 

Sungmin is already browsing the display of flavors nearby, the tip of his nose flattened against it. She joins him, the need to enjoy a cone of ice cream on a hot summer day overwhelming any other thought process. Her conscious is thankful for the distraction.

“I’m thinking… Mint Chocolate Chip.” Sungmin presses the pad of his finger against the glass, his eyes glimmering as he skims over the colorful containers. “Or Rocky Road. Or Tutti Frutti. Or–“ He continues to list the various flavors and Jinseong wonders if he’ll ever be able to settle. Despite being a man rather set in his ways, there’s always something new he wants to try, whether it’s as small as an ice cream flavor or as major as changing his entire course of action for the future. Sungmin simply liked to experiment. 

She’s grateful for that. It gives her hope. And she can’t help the burst of affection as he narrows it down to three and begins ranking their potential attributes. It’s nonsensical, as ridiculous as putting on and taking off that stupid cap every five minutes, but so utterly like him.

“How are you supposed to know any of that if you’ve never tried them? Just pick one.” Jinseong purses her lips into a straight line, her cheeks filling out as she stands beside him. “You goof. Get…” She sighs and points to the ice cream she sees first. “This one.” It’s a strange color, something not quite green, not quite blue,. Sungmin quickly acknowledges it with a disgusted grimace. “Well, fine, get Strawberry, if you don’t appreciate my help.”

He takes another minute and she urges him to hurry with a shrill, whining tone. She knows he won’t choose because she tells him to; it’s like trying to move a mountain with only her two hands. Sungmin paces along the length of the display, further annoying the employee behind it. Scoop in hand, they await a decision, and Jinseong has half a mind to provide them with it. It’s at the point where she’s about to speak that Sungmin makes a noise of settlement.

“I’ll have a scoop of chocolate, please.”

The employee’s expression softens after being held in a stiff smile for a prolonged period of time. Jinseong struggles to hold in her laughter. 

Sungmin’s smile reaches his ears when the cone is placed in his hand. He wants to get his first taste and ease the dryness of his throat before they step outside again, but he remembers he has one more order to fill. He chuckles with an air of sheepishness as he carefully leans over the counter, requesting another cone with a scoop of vanilla as well. 

“It’s still too hot,” Jinseong says absent-mindedly as she walks down the street, her eyes focusing on her ice cream rather than what’s ahead. Still, she manages to raise her foot at the exact moment she needs to climb onto the sidewalk. Sungmin almost trips. “Hey, careful, don’t hurt yourself.” He groans and briefly reaches down to rub at the sharp pain in his calf, though not without another of his cone. “You have to keep your little legs intact for football this year, right?”

Sungmin furrows his eyebrows, his nostrils flaring as he huffs. He knows very well she’s teasing, but any mention of his height gets him worked up. “My legs are not little!” He squeaks. “I’m only a few centimeters smaller than average height and if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be the best linebacker–“

“Our school has seen in decades,” she sighs. “I know.” 

Sungmin grunts, defeated but stubborn. “But, yeah…” He softens his voice. “I do have to keep them intact for football.” Chewing on the dwindling cone in his hand, he shoves the end into his mouth and brushes his hands of the crumbs. “I just have to hope I don’t get injured again. I definitely don’t want another broken arm.”

Jinseong wayward melted trickles of vanilla from her cone, humming in acknowledgment. She savors the taste before speaking. “I’ll make you quit if you get hurt again. You’ve already had two surgeries – that’s two too many.” Sungmin shrugs and reaches for her hand when the grass crunches beneath their feet. Their fingers barely touch when she shoves hers into her pocket. Not yet, she thinks. “You can, um… cheer with me instead.”

“Don’t you think my legs are too little for all stunt work?” Sungmin asks as he inspects the circle of shade underneath a nearby tree. Jinseong snorts in a sad attempt to hide her laughter and nibbles on the remainder of her ice cream cone. Sungmin plops down onto the bed of grass beside the trunk. “Maybe I can ask Zhou Mi – my roommate from last year, you know him – if I could do well in volleyball.  What do you think?”

Jinseong takes a quiet seat beside him. Her lips are puckered in thought as she leans closer to him, careful to inspect their surroundings before resting her head on his shoulder. “Didn’t you nearly break the captain’s nose last season? I don’t think he’s going to let you join the team when he remembers you punched him square in the face and called him a greedy over the last donut in the dining hall.”

“Okay, in my defense, it was the last jelly-filled donut and you know they almost never serve those in the dining hall. How could I not fight over it?” Sungmin holds up his fingers, folding each one with every reason that leaves his mouth. “It was the second week of school and I was already up to here.” He gestures to an empty space above his head. Jinseong sits up to look at him properly, quirking an eyebrow. “And he’s a jerk – thinking he’s so high and mighty just ‘cause he’s tall. Smug bastard.” 

“You’ve never even talked to him!” Jinseong laughs and gives Sungmin’s shoulder a gentle push. His reasons might have seemed perfectly sound in his own thoughts, but hearing them said out loud has her wondering how he’s managed to master survival with a raging temper. “What am I going to do with you?” Sungmin leers at her. She plucks a handful of grass and scoots further from him, tossing it in his direction. It doesn’t reach him, fluttering to the ground a few inches away, and she huffs. “Remind me why I like you again?”

“Because I’m an Environmental Science major, you’re a Dance Therapy major, and you have a thing for forbidden romances?” 

“It’s not forbidden, it’s–“ It’s just that no one knows, she finishes in her head. Sungmin tilts his head, looks at her with an eyebrow raised, and all she can do is smile sheepishly. It’s the type of thing that shouldn’t be said where anyone could hear them. Or ever. She’s still not sure. “Never mind, it’s nothing. Are we a harlequin novel couple now?”

Sungmin’s fingertips glide over her own, his touch gentle as he maneuvers her hand until he’s able to twine their fingers. Jinseong blinks, the heat of the setting sun finding its way to her cheeks again. “I like to think we’re more of a modern, young adult novel couple.” Sungmin squeezes her hand, just once, and lets go. Her heart melts, just a tiny bit. “Think ’A Walk To Remember’.”

Jinseong groans. “Ugh, romantic moment ruined. You know I hate that book. Look, you got me way off topic–” She pouts and pushes his shoulder again. Sungmin pretends to bite her hand as she’s moving it away. “Stop punching people, especially people twice your size. The only exception is when you’re boxing. Well, actually–“ 

Sungmin starts to grumble, something about how he can’t catch a break, but he assents anyway – holding a serious expression proves far too difficult. His laugh sets off hers, and she leans back against the tree trunk. When they settle down, the shrill laughter and meaningful glances fading away, Jinseong closes her eyes. She can hear Sungmin’s breathing, soft and slow like the gentle breeze weaving through the thin branches overhead. 

His hand rests over hers, a subtle gesture of want, and she wonders if it would be better to stay here. They could watch the sun disappear into the horizon, sit so that their shoulders barely touch because it’s the closest they can be without arousing suspicion. Would it be worth it to take him home and a dump a weight he never asked for onto his shoulders? She doesn’t know. There’s a dull pain in the middle of her chest when she takes a deep breath and she tries to ignore the reason why.

When she opens her eyes, Sungmin is twirling a blade of torn grass between his fingers. His eyes are so focused on which way it’s turning that they seem to draw closer together. Jinseong stands, drawing his attention. He looks up and smiles – gently, sweetly. It’s a smile she hopes to see again.

“Come on, let’s head back.” She waves at him to get up and hops in place, exaggerating her anxious need to leave. “It’s getting dark and, um, it’s creepy.” 

Sungmin perks up at the anxiety he mistakes as enthusiasm and scrambles to his feet, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Head back? Like, head back. Up to your room.” He clicks his tongue and winks. Jinseong’s stomach swirls. “Gotcha.”

Jinseong doesn’t know if this is the last time she’ll reach for his hand, tucking her fingers against his, leading him down the grassy plains of the local park. She doesn’t know and the worry squeezes her chest, wrings the life out of her weakening heart with every beat. How could she possibly handle it when the summer ends and they’re forced to spend parts of the day together?

It would be constant, day in and day out, and he would still– she chokes on the lump in . A strong pat to the center of her back is the only thing that brings her out of the cloud of delusion settling in her thoughts. It doesn’t hurt her, but it does knock her a step forward. Her fingers slip out from between Sungmin’s and she darts away. 

“What was that for?” She asks. Sungmin mock-marvels that she finished her ice cream ten minutes ago and yet she still managed to choke on it. “Ugh, I’m fine.” It’s a lie. She knows it’s a lie and it almost seems obvious, until she distracts him with talk. “You hit me hard, . I still need to have my spine in one piece; it’s hard to cheer without one. I’m a precious commodity, as you should be aware.”

Sungmin rolls his eyes and pecks the apple of her cheek at the realization that they’re safe from prying eyes. His shoulder bumps against hers as he trots ahead. Jinseong places her hand over the area his lips touched and purses her lips, breathing out a long sigh through her nose. It’s one more thing she could lose and she wonders if it’s really worth it. She decides to take advantage of it while she’s still able to.

Sungmin pretends to shriek when she catches up and hops on his back, just barely hooking her legs around his waist. She forces herself to laugh and hope this won’t be the last time. 

The sun says the rest of its goodbyes only minutes into their trek and the moon soon rises to replace it, dimly illuminating the nooks and crannies of the narrow streets. Sungmin looks up at the stars and counts them, small noises of amazement and anecdotes about the history of constellations escaping his lips. Jinseong manages a small smile when he points at the wing of Cygnus.  

She wishes she could say more. Bravery is difficult to embrace when the threat of neighbors, someone passing by, or anyone seeing them is constant. He stops at the doorstep, runs the palm of his hand over her shoulder and down her arm. She knows what he wants but she can’t give it to him. Not out in the open. She pulls him inside instead.

With her words caught in , she remains in front of him as they discard their shoes at the doorway. She leads him through the small apartment, her eyes focused solely on her destination. Looking at him proves to be too difficult. She feels vaguely nauseous and wonders if the ice cream was such a good idea after all. It was, she decides as they near her bedroom. It was worth it. 

She was able to see him smile, appreciate the radiant adoration in his eyes for what could be the last time, and now, she’s glad she did. But that doesn’t stop her insides from going in all sorts of directions that don’t feel possible at the runaway thoughts of how this could all go so, so wrong. 

Desperately trying to calm her trembling hands, she lingers behind Sungmin to close the bedroom door behind them. A textbook on the basic theories of psychology is kicked under her bed and she leads Sungmin to it by reflex, stiff and solemn. Her one measly chair, its carefully wound reeds coming apart, is deemed uncomfortable, dismissed with nary a second thought. 

Perhaps it’s by reflex as well that Sungmin turns to her and splays his hand over her cheek, leaning towards her and into her until their lips meet. Her heart races, but each rhythmic beat is painful. The palms of her hands sweat and she presses them deep into the fabric of her pants. It’s the hardest thing in the world to push him away, to not give in to his heated smirk and affectionate eyes and forget the whole endeavor.

It’s so tempting when he nuzzles his nose against the curve of her neck. She shivers. “I want you,” he says in a husky voice. “I want you so much, Hyukjae.”

Jinseong winces. It jolts her with the punch to the gut she always feels hearing it. Her palms press against his chest to push him away, enough to let her breathe. It’s not his fault; he doesn’t know. But every time he makes the same mistake, Jinseong realizes more and more that she can’t go on like this. It’s so close to what she needs that it hurts all the more to feel centimeters away from it, whispering promises of joy and ruin in two separate voices.

Sungmin falters. His hands cover hers, softly, carefully, as if she’s a fine shard of glass. His frown is one of worry, of confusion, and it’s all because of her. It’s difficult enough when it’s anyone else, but she can’t bear it from him.

“Was I that bad?” He tries to joke. She can see the tension has overtaken him too, his body stiff, on guard, even if he doesn’t know why yet. She shakes her head, stares at him for long seconds, trying with all her might to push those first few words out. Her fingers burn into the fabric of his shirt. She knows he’s only trying to help. He’s been thrown into the dark with no means to find his way out. “What’s wrong then? You can tell me.”

The wet prickles at her eyelids may be the humble beginning of tears and she drops the lighthearted attempt entirely. It could be the worst choice to start like this, but it’s a start, and she decides it counts for something. 

“I have to tell you something.” Just like that, Sungmin’s hands are no longer cradling hers, and the space he puts between them feels as big as an ocean. His Adam’s apple bobs and he his lips, his legs tightly crossing. He looks scared. It seems impossible, given that he never looks scared of anything. Jinseong stares at the door and curls her hands into fists on her lap. “I… I’m a girl– a-a woman. Not… Not a boy.”

Sungmin doesn’t know what he’s looking for but he tries to search for it in her countenance anyway. A breath leaves through his nose and he leans back onto his palms, his weight settling deep into the mattress. Jinseong’s nails dig into her palms. She glances at him, her gaze momentarily darting away when their eyes meet, waiting for him to say something. Anything. When he finally does, it’s a soft-spoken, “I don’t understand.”

Her trembling grows intense, even more so in her voice. “I know I… I know I look like this,” she starts with her best guess again, “but I am. Inside, I– I always knew. It’s how I’ve always felt.” He’s staring again. There’s an odd glint in his eyes, as if he’s trying to figure her out, find out the secret of what she’s trying to explain. She’s convinced he’s appalled – disgusted with every fiber of her being. “I’m sorry,” she says, bowing her head.

If she looks at him for a second longer, she’ll fall apart.

She sniffles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. She tries to remind herself it’s better than sobbing uncontrollably but Sungmin is quiet – too quiet. Jinseong waits for him to leave. Part of her wants him to. It’d be easier to bury her face in her pillow and cry until her eyes can longer handle the strain, to reflect on the mistake she’s made. She doesn’t know what she expected; this is completely new to her. 

It’s so painfully silent that it already feels like the end. 

“I think I’ve heard of this,” he finally says, careful, measured. “There were a few idols like this, right? You mean like them. Those feelings are tough, aren’t they? I’ve heard they are.” Jinseong’s heart leaps. She swallows before it can jump out of . He didn’t leave. He’s talking to her, like he wants to understand. She stares in awe. “I’m no good at this,” he says with a sigh, idly scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t want to make things worse for you.” 

She realizes then that her wordless shock is causing a misunderstanding. She looks up and smiles. She thinks she must look pitiful, her lips quivering and her eyes filled to the brim with tears, but Sungmin smiles back. He closes the space between them and her heart flutters. Her vocal cords tighten when she tries to say something intelligible enough to convince him she isn’t two seconds away from running out the door. She tries again and squeaks halfway through the first syllable.

With words escaping her, she throws her arms around his shoulders and holds him tight instead. Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she allows herself to cry.

“I love you,” he murmurs. His voice is soft and low, barely above a whisper, as if he’s afraid to speak louder. He slides his hands over her back until it feels as though the fabric of her shirt has melded into his fingertips. “I love you so much. Thank you for trusting me.” Jinseong gives him a squeeze, and he tries to think of it as a good sign. “I’m just… I’m new to this. Do you want me to call you by another name or something?” Resting the side of his head against hers, he closes his eyes and sighs. “I was calling you by the wrong name all day, wasn’t I? I’m so sorry.”

She leans back only as far as she has to to see his face, her hand moving to cup his cheek as she manages a tiny smile, still sniffling. Her other hand bunches the fabric in the middle of his shirt. She can’t bear to let go of any other place anchoring her to him, but she needs to look at him, to take in that this is actually happening. “It’s okay – you didn’t know.” Sungmin’s lips reflect her smile, as small as it may be. “You can call me Jinseong.” It’s the first time she says her real name out loud, to another person, and it’s the sweetest her tongue has ever tasted. “Or Jin, if you like.”

Sungmin stares, and the fear comes rushing back. She can almost hear the blood charging through her ears, her limbs, her entire body. 

“Jinseong,” he repeats slowly, savoring each syllable. Her breaths deepen, gradually easing into the steady rise and fall of her chest, but her eyes give away her panic. “It’s a beautiful name. It suits you.” Jinseong seems to breathe a sigh of relief, and Sungmin smiles. Her cheeks are pink and he can’t resist kissing them. She giggles between hiccups, her grip loosening on his shirt as the tension slowly leaves her. “I’ll try my best to do what you need me to. I want you to be happy.”

“I know.” The remnants of a racing pulse linger, her ribs drumming with each beat, but when she focuses on him, everything slows down. He looks at her gently, with an unattainable amount of affection trapped in the stars in his eyes. She can breathe. “Thank you.”

Her arms wrap around his waist, her hands splaying over the small of his back, and she rests her cheek on his chest. She closes her eyes when Sungmin begins to brush his fingers through her hair. They sit in comfortable silence, their weight settling deep into each other. Jinseong hiccups, a small reflexive sniffle following it. Her body is still in the process of recovering from the terror, and she knows it might not finish without an intervention. 

Sungmin’s weight is heavy against her. She buries her nose into the middle of his chest and makes an annoyed sound. 

“This is really nice and all, but my head itches so badly right now,” she says. “The chlorine’s going to ruin my hair if I don’t get in the shower soon.”

“I’ll go with you.” His words only have a hint of the leer she expects. Instead, they sound gentle. Protective. 

They share another quiet moment, then he squeezes her. She squeaks.

“You smell.” She looks up at him, crinkling her nose. “Like, really bad. ‘It just so happens that I haven’t showered in two weeks’ bad. I guess you’ll have to shower with me.” It’s teasing and affectionate, laced with nothing but love, but they both know what she’s really saying. Stay with me.

Sungmin rolls his eyes. He’s just as playful, smiling as he pecks her lips. “Right, okay, like you don’t smell like a dumpster too.” 

Leaning forward to slide his arms underneath Jinseong’s thighs and back, it doesn’t take much of his strength to lift her up. Having such a small frame does come in handy sometimes, she has to admit. She yelps when he stands, causing her to bounce ever so slightly. Her knees and back are jolted when they land back on his arms, her legs reflexively kicking forward (and luckily not hitting anything on the way). 

“You’re carrying me there? Ugh, how romantic!” She exclaims, dripping with sarcasm. “I’m swooning.” She tilts her head back, allowing the remainder of her body to become limp in his arms. 

Sungmin’s laugh is breathy when he takes the first steps toward the bathroom. “Such a shame that my love has expired en route to the shower. I shall mourn for a hundred days and nights…” He feigns a somber cry. Jinseong sputters. “But, hey, at least I don’t need to bathe anymore. I can just toss her out the window–“

Jinseong squeals when he pretends to heave her to the side, her hands immediately latching onto his shoulders. “I don’t smell that bad!” She grabs the cap from Sungmin’s head and swats it across his chest, pushing her bottom lip into a pout. She tosses the cap to the nearest corner of her room in hopes that it will never be picked up again. Sungmin whines. “Now, walk, servant, so I can scrub you clean.”

She’s grateful for her en suite now, even if it cuts the trip dreadfully short. The back of her shirt is wet with sweat and it’s sticking to her skin.  She runs through her fingers through the strands of Sungmin’s hair she can reach. They’re in clumps, held together by the sweat and chlorine from an earlier dip in the community pool. She grimaces. He kisses her forehead when he manages to open the door to the bathroom, drawing her out of her thoughts.

“That was pretty uneventful,” she says as he sets her down on the flat surface of the sink’s counter. Sungmin doesn’t get the chance to move when she drapes her legs around his hips, drawing him in until he’s pinned against the counter. He raises his eyebrows but leans over her anyway. She giggles, playfully pushing him away. “Don’t get any ideas, big guy. It’s chilly in here, and you’re warm.” 

“You’re sending me mixed signals here, honey.” He sighs, resting his head on her shoulder. She pats the back of his shoulders in a gesture of faux sympathy and kisses his cheek. “I’ll get the shower going before we freeze to death.” He lifts his head and pecks the edge of her jaw. “Try not to turn into a popsicle while I’m gone.”

“Such a sweetheart,” she coos when she allows him to step away. Sungmin laughs again, though it quickly fades into a sarcastic line of ‘ha ha’s. 

He slides one of the shower doors open with ease, turning the dial to the setting he knows Jinseong likes. Cold showers were more his preference, as a way to get energized and woken up, but the warm ones, where they share steam and body heat, always feel so much nicer when she’s around. Jinseong hops down from the counter when the sound of the water reaches her ears. She moves to start removing her clothes, but Sungmin crosses the distance between them and stops her before she can lift her shirt much higher than her belly button.

“Here, let me help.” She thinks he’s trying too hard, but she’d rather have this than nothing at all. “It’s been a while since I’ve treated you like a princess, and tonight is as good a night as any.” There’s a part of her that wants to cry again and the tears gather at the corners of her eyes, but all she allows herself to do is dip her head and smile. Sungmin tugs her shirt off and drops it onto the floor beside them. He runs his hands over her arms, slowly, gently. “I love you.”

It takes effort, but she lifts her head to smile at him. The exposure of her body is embarrassing, far more than it used to be, and she tries to cover herself somehow, crossing her arms. This isn’t how she wants to look for him, for herself, but he loves her anyway and it’s enough to temporarily quiet the noise in her mind. “I know,” she mutters. She swats his hands away to help him remove his shirt. “I love you too.” 

Jinseong instantly becomes enamored with his stomach when his shirt crumples to the floor, affectionately rubbing her hand against the wonderful softness of it peeking over the edge of his jeans. Sungmin lets out a squeal of laughter when she reaches a particularly ticklish spot, and she smiles big, wrapping her arms around his waist to pull him in for a brief hug. He works on getting his pants undone when they separate, his chortles of glee drowned out by the sound of the shower. Jinseong seems reluctant, and he notices when he glances at her. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he shimmies out of his pants. Her eyes are pitiful when she looks at him and he frowns. “Do you want me to turn around? I won’t look if you don’t want me to.”

She whispers a soft ‘thank you’ under her breath. Though Sungmin turns away with a fleeting touch of their fingertips, she continues to fumble with removing her pants. It’s easy to joke and play, but coming to terms with the fact that this isn’t the way she should be is painfully difficult. For a minute, there’s nothing but the sound of her nails scraping against brass. It takes too long for the rest of her clothes to be left in an untidy pile, and she tries not to acknowledge the humiliation that comes with it.

“Okay, all done,” she mumbles as she takes his hand. Sungmin smiles. “Thanks for understanding.”

It’s odd how well he’s taking all of this, she thinks. He opens the shower door for her, urges her inside as if she’s walking into a palace. His free hand is on the small of her back, the other tightly clutching her fingers. Jinseong thought there would be some change in their relationship, something that would always seem off. There’s nothing. The way Sungmin leads her to stand underneath the steady stream of warm water, letting go of her hand to run his fingers through her dampening hair, smiling all the while – it’s the same. 

She’s grateful beyond words.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Sungmin’s tone is soft, barely loud enough for her to hear over the water. Her heart beats loudly against her ribcage, but she nods anyway. “Have you told anyone else? Your parents, your sister…?”

Jinseong sighs. He runs his hands over the back of her neck and shoulders, calloused fingertips tickling the soft skin. “Not yet. Maybe after college.” She shrugs. “You’re the first person I’ve told, and I trust you to keep this between us, okay? I’m… I’m not ready to tell anyone else.”

“It’ll stay between us, I promise,” he says softly. She turns slightly to look at him as best she can when he rests his chin on her shoulder. “Will you be okay, though? If we have to pretend then… won’t it make things hard?”

“It will. I’m not going to lie to you and say it won’t.” Sungmin frowns. Jinseong does the only thing she can do – grab the bar of soap nearby and scrub at her arms. Watching the suds wash away as the water falls on them serves as a distraction. “But I have to do it, yeah? For my own safety, at least.”

Sungmin mumbles an agreement, and kisses the back of her neck – lovingly, affectionately. He can feel her trembling against him. He wraps his arms around her waist, staying low to avoid even the hint of touching her chest. He doesn’t look or touch anywhere that isn’t comfortable for her. Though there’s not much he can do, he can prioritize her physical comfort. Jinseong relaxes when they’re no longer touching in places she doesn’t want. He smiles.  

She squeezes his arm. It’s not much, she knows, but it’s the only way she can show her appreciation while she gets herself under control again. Taking a few deep breaths, she pries his arms off of her waist. “Why do you keep distracting me from all the stuff I want to get done, huh?” She turns around so he can see her smile, her tone playful. She yawns afterwards, and Sungmin chuckles. “Don’t answer that. Just wash my hair, sweetie.”

Jinseong squeaks when he begins to rub the shampoo into her hair. It’s such a mundane thing, really, but it’s affection, it’s love, and it’s everything she wants right now. 

“Remember to use the hair-dye conditioner, hm?” She takes a peek at him despite the suds. Sungmin quickly gestures for her to close her eyes again and she laughs, the image of his expression – eyebrows raised high and mouth open wide in surprise – deep in her mind. “Ah, sorry, sorry, I forgot I’m not supposed to look at my hot boyfriend when he’s washing my hair. I could get shampoo in my eye, or whatever – does that actually hurt as much as people say?”

“Hm… It’s like a really bad sting from a wasp. Your eyes hurt for days,” he explains. He checks to make sure her eyes are closed before rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. It takes him longer than it should have to grab the conditioner she mentioned (there are way too many hair product bottles with the same label for him to find it immediately). Her hands the space in front of her as he pours a dollop of conditioner into his palm until she gains leverage on his sides, tugging him in closer. “Hey, hey, I’m here to wash your hair. Don’t get any ideas.”

Jinseong snorts to hide her laughter. “Get your mind out of the gutter, will you? You were just too far away.”

They spend the rest of their time in the shower laughing, exchanging jokes about their day and flicking water out of the stream into each other’s faces. Despite the positivity lingering in the air with the clouds of steam, Sungmin complains about their lack of planning when he opens the shower door. It’s cold. Dreadfully cold. Huddling close to each other, they play rounds of rock, paper, scissors to decide who should scurry out to find towels. Sungmin groans when he loses for the third time.

Jinseong shivers when she steps out behind him, patting her feet on the small rug. She urges Sungmin to hurry with a gentle push, and he whines. He rummages through the storage space beneath the sink for a pair of towels and quickly throws one over his head, tossing the other in Jinseong’s direction. She yelps when it hits her in the chest but she doesn’t have the time to complain, drying herself off in record time. 

Her hair is still damp, small drops of water splashing onto her skin, but she doesn’t mind so much when she throws her towel over it. They conveniently forgot to get a change of clothes, caught up in the distraction of each other, and she really doesn’t want to sleep . 

It takes time to find clothes that fit Sungmin. He’s wide, stocky and strong, while she’s small, spindly and weak. Jinseong sighs when she holds one of her oversized sweaters in front of him, only to realize it wouldn’t fit. Not even in her dreams. Continuing to search through the clothes left in the drawers of her dresser, she squeaks in approval when she finds a shirt and a pair of sweatpants – the same pair she ‘borrowed’ from Sungmin weeks ago.

His eyebrows shoot up into the wet fringe of his hair when she hands them over, muttering that he should never allow her to take his things again.

“I was going to give them back, I swear! Your clothes are just really comfortable.” She grins sheepishly as she organizes her drawers of clothes again, pulling out her own set of pajamas before she finishes. It’s better to clean up now than do it in the morning, she thinks. 

Sungmin clambers onto the bed. “I don’t believe you. You were probably planning to keep them forever and then, years from now, confess that you stole my clothes and never gave them back because you didn’t want to buy your own.”

Jinseong scoffs. “Okay, fine, you’re right, I wasn’t going to give them back. But listen,” she begins, pulling on her pair of sweatpants, “you think it’s cute when I wear your clothes anyway. It’s not like I was doing something bad. I mean, how many times have you been way too happy to see me in one of your sweaters?"

“I–“ Sungmin huffs, unable to defend himself against such an honest argument. “Okay, you win.”

Jinseong smiles, satisfied. She climbs onto the bed to lay beside him, sighing happily as her weight settles into the mattress. They move around, with and over each other until they find a comfortable position. Sungmin drapes his arm over her waist, his hand reaching underneath her sweater to caress the soft skin of her stomach. 

She can feel the pattern of his breathing against her back when she closes her eyes. It’s slow, steady, matching pace with her own, and when she turns to look at his face, she sees his soft, careful smile. His eyes are gentle with the same love he proclaims so easily with words. It’s more restraint than he usually shows. 

It hits her again, how much he really cares.

She can feel want, misshapen as it may be, stirring awake as the fear calms, but she’s not sure about it. Not when she’s so aware of all the wrongs and the what-ifs. She has to start somewhere, and Sungmin deserves answers to his questions – even if her responses might just raise more.

“My name– I… Other people change their names for different reasons. I can do that without having to, you know, tell anyone.” She lets the words hang unspoken – too scared, not ready. Sungmin is listening. He makes a vague noise of acknowledgment into her hair. The confidence with which she answered him earlier is gone. She’s vulnerable again. “Our friends – You’ll come with me to tell them? I don’t think I can do it alone.”

“Of course,” Sungmin says with stubborn ferocity, despite the grogginess hidden deep in his tone. “I can take out all of them at once if they give you any trouble.” 

Jinseong can’t help but laugh. She doesn’t need to see his face to know the exact expression he’s making.

“That’s your answer to everything!” Sungmin laughs too. He rolls them from their sides until he’s on his back. She shifts so she can rest her head on his chest, her ankles now exposed to the cool temperature of her room. Her parents must have forgotten to turn off the air conditioning. She looks up at Sungmin. It’s difficult, but she does it. She wonders if he sees the puffy mess she feels like. Maybe not, since his heart blinds him to her flaws. “Come with me. That’s all I need.”

It’s only the next day that she realizes he must have said that on purpose. After a bit of sleep, she can see how that, too, was him trying to make her happy.

“Have you ever seen the way Sungmin dances?” Henry asks her late in the afternoon. He’s dripping wet, a packaged hot dog in hand. Jinseong snorts. “I got him a snack and he did this little jig. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen from a grown man in my entire life. Actually, no,” he unwraps the foil around his hot dog and dips his feet in the pool. “There was one time in Canada–“

Jinseong laughs when she wipes the sweat from her brow. “There’s always ‘that one time in Canada’ with you.” Henry says no more, shrugging. Jinseong smiles and ruffles his hair. “I think everyone’s seen Sungmin dance. I tried to teach him last year but it just didn’t work out. It’s not in his genes, I suppose. But, hey, have you looked at your own boyfriend lately? Check out his fashion.”

She gestures at Ryeowook, comfortably enjoying a drink on one of the adjustable pool-side lounge chairs. His eyes are hidden behind an exaggerated pair of sunglasses, a dramatic hat with a flared brim shading the rest of his face. As ridiculous as it may seem, she doesn’t blame him too much for it. The sweltering heat is even worse than the day before. 

“But he looks cute,” Henry protests, pouting as he chews on his food. Jinseong laughs again. “Oh, come on, don’t act like Sungmin hasn’t worn some terrible clothes that you found cute anyway.” She looks at him with wide eyes, scrunching up her entire face in hopes that he wouldn’t mention– “Remember that colorful plaid suit for homecoming?”

Jinseong groans and hides her face in her hands. Henry laughs diabolically, stopping momentarily to take another bite of his hot dog. “I can’t believe I told him it looked good. What was I thinking?” She shakes her head. Though it was over two years ago, the memory remains ingrained in her thoughts. “Puppy love is a dangerous thing, Henry. Mark my words.”

“Sure,” Henry says between chews. “Marking ‘em right now.”

“Good. I’m going to talk to Ryeowook for a second.” Taking her legs out of the pool, she pushes herself onto her feet, careful to keep her balance so as not to fall in. It’s happened once; she’s not letting it happen again. “Make sure Sungmin doesn’t tire himself out, okay? You know he goes overboard sometimes.”

Henry shows her a thumbs up, unable to speak due to the remainder of his hot dog being shoved in his mouth. She pats his head as she walks by. Though Sungmin talked about swimming laps on the walk here, staying in shape, he’s been playing with pool noodles and whatever that other thing is. Things. Plural. It’s some kind of inflatable zoo, practically. But she thinks it’s cute. 

Jinseong catches herself smiling at him. He meets her eyes and smiles just as wide. She realizes then that she should take her own advice. It takes effort to look away and continue on her trek to the other side of the pool. By the time she reaches Ryeowook, she’s drenched in sweat, the water on her legs close to drying completely. The impressive hat and bug-eyed sunglasses staring back at her make the trip worth it.

Plopping down beside him on the lounge chair, though there isn’t much space (and half of her body is hanging off), she bumps his shoulder with hers. 

Ryeowook whines. “What was that for?” 

“I need to talk to you,” she replies simply. Ryeowook lowers his sunglasses and raises an eyebrow so high it nearly goes up to his hat. It’s Jinseong’s turn to whine. “I’m serious!”

“Fine. Talk,” he says as he takes his sunglasses off entirely, folding them and putting them down beside him. “Quickly, please, I can already feel myself getting cataracts.”

“I changed my name.” It’s better to blurt it out. She doesn’t have the strength to prelude with an extensive list of reasons. Ryeowook raises both of his eyebrows this time, his mouth forming a small ‘o’. She smiles sheepishly to hide the terror in her eyes. “I was getting tired of Hyukjae, and it’s not fun sharing a name with a famous comedian, you know?”

“Okay.” She breathes an obvious sigh of relief. Ryeowook snorts. “What– Did you think I would ask you why? You know I don’t need reasons. As long as what you’re doing is legal and you’re happy then, eh, what the hell, who am I to judge. What’s your new name?”

“Jinseong!” It’s impossible to hide the elation in her voice, and she doesn’t bother to hide it in her expression either. She knows most people wouldn’t have been so excited to announce their new name to the world, but she is. Being able to say it out loud makes her heart flutter. “Jin for short.”

Ryeowook nods, closing his eyes in silent approval. “You really know how to pick out a pretty name, huh? I like it.” Her smile reaches her ears. He grabs his discarded sunglasses and puts them on again, leaning back against the lounge chair. “I’ll tell Henry for you, if you want.”

“That’d be awesome,” she chirps as she stands up, trying not to make it obvious that she’s rubbing her back. “Thanks for understanding, Wook. You’re the best.”

Ryeowook doesn’t have the chance to respond. She speaks too quickly and scampers away before he can open his mouth, though he’s somewhat glad that his former peace and quiet has been restored. 

Jinseong lays on the lounge chair on the other side of the pool where she left her bag. Henry seems to have jumped in to play with Sungmin a few minutes too late. While Sungmin fulfills his personal promise of swimming laps, Henry has fun pretending to twist pool noodles into animals to try to impress Ryeowook. 

It’s easy to get tired of watching Sungmin swim. 

She enjoys when he returns the surface to swipe his hair from his face at first, his tan skin glowing in the sunlight, but the heat soon makes it unbearable. Her t-shirt is sticky, as if it’s been coated in honey. She makes a valiant effort at reading the novel on one of her class lists, but doesn’t get much farther than the first ten pages. Jinseong doesn’t realize she’s dozed off until Sungmin nudges her shoulder, a puddle forming on the concrete below him. 

“Good evening, Sleeping Beauty. I didn’t even have to kiss you to wake you up.” He tries to reach over her to get the towels rolled over the top of her bag, drenching her book in water. She swats at his chest with it when she comes to her senses. “Ah, hey! I was just trying to get a towel! The pool’s closing, we gotta go.”

Jinseong blinks. It’s almost too much information to take in at once. She registers that he needs a towel first and grabs him one, watching him unfurl it to wipe down his face and wring out his hair first. “What?” She rubs at the corners of her eyes with the knuckles of one hand while the other throws her book into her bag. “Did Ryeowook and Henry leave already?” 

“Oh, yeah, but I don’t know how long ago. I wasn’t keeping track of time.” Sungmin shrugs. She sighs. He leans over her when he’s finished drying his chest, grabbing her bag and hooking it on his arm. He tosses his towel around his neck and offers her a hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

She doesn’t hesitate to take his hand, but she has to resist the urge to twine their fingers together when he pulls her up onto her feet. It’s the only disappointing moment of her day. 

When she sits in her bedroom, alone for what feels like the first time in months, she thinks about having told two more people her real name. Even if she didn’t entirely specify why to one person, thinking about being called by it makes her heart swell. Relief washes over her and she can breathe. It’s easier to stand up and pick out the clothes she wants to pack. She smiles when she folds shirts, giggles when she places a pair of jeans into her suitcase. 

It’s been so long since she’s felt okay. 

These sun-stretched days have become a bubble of paradise, but she knows summer can’t last forever. She has to go back to the real world. She has to be brave again because every teacher, every new friend, every teammate, would have to be told merely a tenth of the truth. For now, she refuses to think beyond that yet. Sungmin can’t be everywhere and, though he wants to protect her, for now, she has to borrow some of his courage. 

Jinseong runs a fingertip over the detailing of the pants she’s picked out for tomorrow. “Will you be lucky for me tomorrow?” She pets the flower – one Sungmin had picked for her on their walk home – hidden in the front pocket. “You’ll help me too, right?” She whispers. “I hope.” But the truth is that it’s entirely up to her, and before she knows it, she’s swallowing the lump in and tugging her luggage into a new dorm room.