I can’t swim, Jihoon had said.

Those three words haunt Seungcheol as he drives back to his little apartment.

Which idiot blunders into a series of surfing lessons then tells his instructor that he can’t swim after he almost dies drowning?

Lee Jihoon, that’s who.

From his confidence while practicing on the sand, Seungcheol wouldn’t have guessed that the blond couldn’t swim. Only when they got into the water Seungcheol noticed that Jihoon became more nervous, but that was normal for everyone. It wasn’t like Jihoon screamed bloody murder every time they approached the water, in fact, he’d been happily paddling around just the other day, getting used to his sweet spot. Sure, he’d been wary of going too far out into the ocean, but Seungcheol had taken precautions, taking him to safer depths. Jihoon’s a small person, so Seungcheol made sure that he didn’t go too far in as well.

It was partially his fault, too, for not asking before everything started; assuming that everyone could swim when his distant cousin Vernon had told him that a vlogger was asking for surf lessons.

Of course you need to know how to swim if you want to surf!

The surfer’s wondering whether even Soonyoung can swim too, as his parks his jeep by the roadside in front of his apartment building. He remembers that the vlogger had mentioned something about swimming with dolphins once, so he must know how. Still, it’s frustrating to know that one of his best students can’t even swim!

(Not that he gets many students, but by far, Jihoon’s the best. The others are a bunch five-year-old kids who don’t fully understand the joy of surfing, and find that building sandcastles is more fun, so it feels more like a weekly babysitting session instead of a surf lesson with those kids. Besides, those kids can barely swim, too…)

Seungcheol can’t put his finger on to exactly why Jihoon still went through with the surf lessons even though he’d admitted that he can’t swim. It must have something to do with fifth grade, that Soonyoung had mentioned earlier. Even though Seungcheol doesn’t know what exactly happened, but it must’ve affected Jihoon until now, relating to why he can’t swim. The surfer feels like smashing his head against a palm tree or something – he feels like a fool; for pushing Jihoon to surf, and for assuming that Jihoon could swim.

Seungcheol sighs, unlocking his apartment door with his board tucked under his arm. He’d left the beach quickly before Soonyoung or Jerry could interrogate him – it had been an abrupt farewell, but he wasn’t completely thinking straight at that moment. He’d also left Jihoon hanging, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Jihoon can’t swim.

Home, sweet home. Seungcheol gently places his board at its rightful place on the rack, amidst the other boards, then glances around his room. The blue blanket that he’d wrapped Jihoon in when he had stayed over the other night is folded neatly on the couch. Seungcheol clearly remembers the blond munching on pizza as he played video games, and a small smile creeps onto his face.

Lee Jihoon is certainly one of a kind – Seungcheol’s never met anyone quite like him.

He’s small and cute and reminds Seungcheol of home. He sees his younger self in Jihoon, arriving in a foreign country not knowing anyone. His determination and tenacity to do well in surfing, despite the jarring fact that could’ve risked his life, was the similar fire that Seungcheol had when he first started out. Seungcheol’s first few years in America had been trial and error, blundering around until he gets it right; and he doesn’t want Jihoon to do the same thing.

He wants Jihoon to feel comfortable and happy, though he’s not too sure how he can do that in his capacity as a surf instructor – there’s simply too many social barriers. He wants Jihoon to at least see him as a friend, and not just his surf instructor. He feels the need to protect the little guy; admiring his tenacity in practicing all the surf techniques he learnt. Besides, there’s something different about Jihoon that draws Seungcheol closer, and he’d like to know what it is, and he’d do anything for it.

So when Jihoon says he can’t swim, Seungcheol knows that he’s got to fix that.

He peels his wetsuit off, steps into the shower, and starts to formulate a plan.

“Hoonie.”

Soonyoung’s wary to approach his best friend, who’s sitting at the piano. The lid is open, revealing the black and white keys, waiting to be played.

Jihoon had been quiet throughout dinner, refusing to eat the kimbap that Soonyoung had ordered. Soonyoung highly suspects that it has something to do with his childhood trauma – drowning twice in a lifetime and surviving on both occasions surely would mess up with someone’s mind. Soonyoung figures that he’d give some space to Jihoon and talk to him first thing in the morning.

“Hoonie, I’ll be my room if you need me. And I’m sorry.” Soonyoung says gently.

Jihoon doesn’t reply, staring at the piano keys, facing away from his best friend.

“I’m going upstairs…” Soonyoung pretends to climb the stairs, stamping his feet on the lowest step, making the sounds as if he’d climbed all the way up when he really didn’t. The vlogger peeks around the wall into the living room, trying to conceal himself whilst spying on his best friend who’s sitting by the piano, much like a statue.

“Play something.” Soonyoung whispers to himself. He knows that music is the only way that Jihoon’s able to express himself. Suppressed from doing what he loves the most for years, Soonyoung thinks that his best friend must’ve bottled up his feelings for who knows how long. Soonyoung loves seeing Jihoon playing his self-written songs; he misses those days when they’d just hang out inside the music room at school – Soonyoung on the floor, tired and sweaty after dancing, while Jihoon would be armed with his guitar or sit at the piano, magically plucking out chords that wound into a beautiful song he’d written himself.

Soonyoung holds his breath in anticipation, holding his gaze onto Jihoon’s back. “Play something, play something, play something.”

As if entranced by Soonyoung’s little mutters, Jihoon lifts up a finger to the keys; and Soonyoung watches in anticipation.

A sin