three.

Joshua has occupied the only revolving fan in the room. It’s the only revolving fan in miles, actually.

“Scoot,” Jeonghan commands.

Joshua hums and holds firmly onto his pillow, keeping his face in front of the fan.

Exasperated, Jeonghan doesn’t hesitate to push Joshua in the side, sending him rolling off the bed and onto the floor. Joshua falls soundlessly, only afterward sitting up and glaring at Jeonghan like an unimpressed baby bird. Jeonghan snickers when he sees Joshua’s disheveled state.

“I ruined your hair.”

Jeonghan points it out as if it isn’t already obvious from the way Joshua rolls his eyes. Still, Joshua’s expression neutralizes when he climbs back onto his bed, squeezing in next to Jeonghan. He purposefully elbows Jeonghan in the ribs as he readjusts his pillow, and Jeonghan smacks him back without force. Jeonghan catches a satisfied smile on Joshua’s face and settles back in, their legs stretching back side-by-side.

Absentmindedly, Jeonghan’s hand reaches up to smooth Joshua’s rumpled hair from behind. Joshua doesn’t glance over, just lets his chin sink into the pillow as the fan ghosts over his face. “You haven’t gotten out of bed all morning, have you,” Jeonghan asks wryly. Joshua neither confirms nor denies, content to just lie there, and Jeonghan sighs. “Honestly, that would make you the smart one.”

Joshua elbows him, looking like he’s about to laugh. For that, Jeonghan messes up Joshua’s hair all over again, and Joshua lets out an indignant squawk.

Jeonghan laughs at his pout, catching Joshua by the wrist when his hands automatically go up to check it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it later,” he promises, maneuvering their hands into a handhold. Joshua gives him a baleful look that says you better, but lightens when he sees their interlocked hands.

It’s not much later when the huge double doors swing open and Seungcheol walks in. He shakes his head when he sees the two, who have somehow managed to simultaneously headlock each other in the narrow bed, as if he had expected to find as much.

“Just because I pushed you off your bed last night doesn’t mean you should push Joshua off his,” Seungcheol sighs when he sees Jeonghan half-wrestling with Joshua. Jeonghan pauses to look up, and Joshua takes his opportunity to abruptly roll over and reverse their positions so that Jeonghan is pinned under him.

“But this is your bed,” Jeonghan says, pointing out the technicalities as usual. He doesn’t look remotely concerned by his new position despite the fact that Joshua is triumphantly grinning down at him.

Opting to ignore him, Seungcheol marches over to the bed with all the dignity of a head counselor. Jeonghan pouts at his approach. Seungcheol only means business this morning.

“And you,” Seungcheol says, pulling Joshua out of bed by the collar of his shirt. Joshua makes an exasperated expression but no protest as Seungcheol eyes him with incredulity. “Can’t you just jump into the lake or have a pool party or something instead of hogging the fan?”

Jeonghan shrugs, smoothly sliding out of bed right after Joshua. “It’s not our fault that no one else has a revolving fan.”

“If I knew that you two were going to use it all day, I would have listened to the directors’ spiel about not bringing in any electronics,” Seungcheol retorts but lets the fan stay on instead of clicking it off (because he’s a kind person, and that’s the other reason why Jeonghan and Joshua like to hang around his cabin; well, that and the fact that the only other person who lives in this cabin is Vernon, and teasing Vernon is almost as fun as teasing Seungcheol).

Jeonghan and Joshua don’t mention the fact that the electronic ban only applies to communication devices, content to just smile as the breeze continues to wash over them.

Seungcheol looks between them with a disapproving frown. “Really, guys. Have you even gone down for breakfast yet?”

“Nope,” Jeonghan says, popping the P. They shake their heads in unison and, Seungcheol notes without surprise, not even the slightest hint of remorse.

Seungcheol spends another full minute assessing his childish boyfriends. Somehow, Joshua has managed to get a bedhead in broad daylight while Jeonghan’s hair remains impeccable even after spending a morning wrestling him. After a moment, Seungcheol messes up Jeonghan’s and corrects Joshua’s—“Hey, I was going to do that!”—before grabbing both of their hands and towing them to breakfast. Beaming.

 

two.

Sometimes, on Sunday mornings, Joshua can be seen strolling among the seats of the theatron like a ghost plucking at his ukulele. Often, he hums. If he’s feeling goofy, he sings old Maroon 5 songs. When he’s feeling even goofier, he belts them so loudly that the amphitheater bounces his voice all the way to the other side of the lake.

Seungcheol remembers one morning when Joshua must have been feeling particularly jubilant. His echoing whoops and cheers had traveled all the way to the volleyball court, and Seungcheol had been so startled that Jihoon’s serve nearly hit him in the face. (The only reason it didn’t hit him in the face was because he turned to look for the sound, and even then, the ball sent him faceplanting onto the ground.)

“Who was that?” he had asked, dumbstruck even as an irritated Jihoon pulled him to his feet.

“Jeonghan’s new little friend,” Jihoon replied without preamble, letting go to wipe his hand against his basketball shorts with a look of mild disgust. His face returned to normal once he scrubbed all the sand off, and Seungcheol remembers how Jihoon had then raised an eyebrow at him as if he was supposed to know this stuff already. “You know, the quiet kid who has been staying in his cabin?”

Seungcheol fished around for a name. Even then, he remembered his boyfriend gushing over the new camper that had joined his cabin and the sight of soft summer-bleached hair tentatively sitting next to Jeonghan at meals.

“Joshua?” Seungcheol had asked, not quite able to reconcile the images of the shy new camper and the boisterous whooper and cheerer whose voice rang through the trees.

“That’s the one,” Jihoon had said, eyeing him weirdly, as if the volleyball had hit him harder than he originally thought. He glanced from Seungcheol’s dazed eyes to the baby blue house not far from the court. Cursing under his breath, he had grabbed Seungcheol by the arm and started marching him inside for a checkup. The volleyball was still tucked under his arm. “Maybe I should bring you to the infirmary.”

“Maybe you should,” Seungcheol had echoed, his eyes drifting toward the trees as he stumbled along after him.

Seungcheol was not, in fact, concussed. But maybe that was the day when Seungcheol became a little whipped.

 

This Sunday morning, Joshua is on Seungcheol’s right and Jeonghan on his left as they scarf down their late breakfast. Strategically wedged between them, Seungcheol sits back and sips at his orange juice, looking content. In his graphic tee and old headband that Jeonghan keeps begging him to drop, his boyfriends on both sides, it’s hard for Seungcheol to look anything but content.

Until Jeonghan pushes his plate back and says, “I heard they’re setting off fireworks at the beach tonight.”

Seungcheol chokes on his drink, and Joshua helps him cough it out.

As Jeonghan calmly hands him a napkin, Seungcheol rasps, “Why? Wasn’t the Fourth of July a few weeks ago? Who’s ‘they’ and why do they even have fireworks?”

“Mingyu made more,” Jeonghan shrugs casually. Seungcheol doesn’t really want to ask, but Jeonghan explains anyway. “He’s been trying to impress Jihoon all summer. Remember that time he accidentally set half of his cabin on fire because he got nervous trying to cook him breakfast?”

“There’s a reason the cabins aren’t built with stoves,” Joshua agrees between placid bites of cereal. “Mingyu is normally such a good cook.”

“Jihoon was so mad that he gave Mingyu the silent treatment for a full week. Because he cares,” Jeonghan sighs dreamily. Then shakes his head. “Those two dorks have a lot to work out.”

Joshua nods and finishes his bowl.

Between them, Seungcheol has gone pale.

“You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Joshua says quietly, not because he doesn’t want Jeonghan to hear—because, frankly, there’s nothing that Jeonghan doesn’t hear—but because this is him trying to be gentle. He leans over the table, seeking out Seungcheol’s face. “We can crash at your cabin and turn on the fan and stuff.”

For a moment, Seungcheol contemplates this. It does sound nice, curling up for the night together.

But then he thinks about the fireworks, about his friends clapping and cheering on the beach, about how the look on Jihoon’s face will be priceless, and realizes that for once, he doesn’t feel any fear.

“I’ll go if you go.”

 

one.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan getting together had been inevitable. Maybe it was because they were both the same age. Maybe it was because they were both the head counselors of their respective cabins.

Maybe it was because their favorite cabin-mates had been totally infatuated with each other from the very first day and didn’t even know it.

“Chan is going to confess first,” Jeonghan had said one day during the first week of camp, popping up out of nowhere while Seungcheol was keeping an eye on the archery field (or, more specifically, an eye on Vernon, who was busy correcting Chan’s aim in the middle of it).

Back then, Seungcheol and Jeonghan had barely talked. They barely even saw each other outside of head counselor meetings, where Seungcheol would sit attentively and Jeonghan would always look just a few seconds short of falling asleep. Needless to say, Seungcheol wasn’t at his most eloquent when he jumped and blurted, “Why Chan?”

Jeonghan didn’t respond immediately, instead choosing to watch as Chan turned to ask something and nearly grazed noses with Vernon, whose eyes widened and looked away in embarrassment as he mumbled out an answer and fiddled with the positioning of Chan’s nocked arrow.

Jeonghan’s eyes certainly weren’t sleepy then, Seungcheol had noticed. His focused gaze was almost like a hawk.

“Why not Chan?” Jeonghan had lazily retorted.

“Why not Vernon?” Seungcheol had fired back.

“Why Vernon?” Jeonghan had teasingly echoed.

Vernon said something, probably about how tense Chan’s posture was judging from the way he adjusted Chan’s shoulders. When Chan only bit his lip, Vernon smiled and said something else, and Chan laughed, loosening up. Vernon’s smile widened into a beam.

“Okay, I see your point,” Jeonghan had admitted.

Then Chan’s eyes narrowed at the target and the arrow ripped out of his bow, striking dead center.

“And I yours,” Seungcheol had responded, his mouth gone slack.

(He wasn’t the only one. Vernon had stared at Chan in open-mouthed shock, then proceeded to go in for an excited high five, nearly splintering Chan’s bow with his enthusiasm. Chan, for his part, only grinned proudly.)

Needless to say, it wasn’t the last time Seungcheol talked to Yoon Jeonghan, not by a long shot.

 

Vernon and Chan are talking down by the beach. Seungkwan is there, too, toeing through the sand as if he expects to find fireworks buried there. The big blue sky arches over them. It’s a nice day.

Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua are sitting a little farther away.

Do you think they’ll get together? Joshua’s head is resting in Jeonghan’s lap, but he turns his eyes up just as Jeonghan turns his down. It’s not telepathy that runs between them, but sometimes it might as well be.

“Oh,” Jeonghan smiles, threading his fingers through Joshua’s hair, “I know they’ll get together.”

“I’ll bet my revolving fan that Chan asks Vernon to the fireworks,” Seungcheol says, feeling brave but mostly reckless.

Jeonghan laughs but doesn’t complain. Joshua reaches up to give Seungcheol a high five as Jeonghan smirks and Chan splashes water all over Seungkwan and Vernon’s clothes. Seungkwan chases Chan down with a flipflop in his hand, waving it like a sword, and Vernon just sits down in the sand and claps like he’s watching a performance. “You think I’m going to take you up on that? Of course Chan is going to ask Vernon to the fireworks.”

 

fireworks.

Seungcheol remembers how, one Fourth of July, they had found him curled up in his cabin, shivering.

Jeonghan and Joshua had shared a glance before walking over and tugging at two corners of the blanket he was hiding under. Seungcheol had yelped and attempted to pull the blanket back up. “Can’t a guy just hole up in his blanket for a night?”

“You’ll miss the fireworks,” Jeonghan had said. His sentence was punctuated by a distant, colorful explosion. Joshua frowned down at him, flanking the other side of his bed like a disapproving sentry.

“The fireworks can come back later,” Seungcheol had mumbled, having won the tug-of-war with his blanket, at least for the moment. He dragged it over his head like a cocoon. “You guys should go back to the celebration.”

“Nope,” Jeonghan had said unshakably. Joshua had stood next to him, his face in agreement.

Seungcheol had closed his eyes for a moment before sitting up and preparing to lecture them both. The only thing that comes out, however, is the argument, “Everyone is at the beach.”

Joshua was the one who spoke.

“You aren’t.”

And so they had stayed in his cabin like it was the most logical thing in the world, sitting with their arms wrapped around the three of them until Seungcheol stopped flinching at the explosions, and from there, between his friends’ reassuring arms and the muffled cheers from the beach and snacks that Joshua had somehow sneaked in from an underground trading ring in another cabin, a tradition had been born. From then on, Fourth of Julys were never that bad.

 

Some traditions aren’t that bad when they break, either.

1. Vernon asks Chan to the fireworks, not the other way around. (Jeonghan wails loudly at his missed opportunity while Seungcheol and Joshua laugh and slap sand at each other.)

2. Instead of calling Mingyu the world’s biggest idiot and storming away in front of the entire camp as he did with the failed cooking incident, Jihoon looks up at the fireworks and allows himself a smile when he thinks no one is looking. (But Jeonghan is, and Jeonghan is also looking when Jihoon grabs Mingyu by the collar and pulls him in for a demanding kiss behind the tree line, a story that he continually retells to anyone who will listen despite how much Joshua teases him for being able to stare at the whole thing without blinking.)

3. Everyone is out on the beach. (Sand down his shorts, surrounded by the campers he has spent years with, his two boyfriends resting their heads on his loose shoulders, watching the fireworks rain down, Seungcheol feels like he has finally found his summer.)