Sunlight bathes Yixing's face a pale yellow. He sits in the grass with his legs stretched before him. In the distance he can see clouds darkening the sky an ugly gray. Lightning bolts break in random sputters and stain the sunset with their viscous hues. Yixing takes a deep breath of the salty air and looks at the man lying next to him. Sunlight hits his face too, small pockets of light illuminating his face.

"Hey, Wufan, are you awake?" Yixing asks, his words fumbling from his mouth in a nervous cluster.

Wufan opens his eyes. He looks up at Yixing, expression tired but peaceful. He just stares at the younger boy. Yixing’s eyes squint from the setting sun, but Wufan sees the world in them. Everything beautiful and right swims in Yixing's tiny irises, and Wufan can't help but feel tiny and insignificant in comparison. Yixing’s skin shines in the sun and his cheeks crinkle when he smiles or speaks.

"Wufan?" Yixing questions. "There’s a storm coming." He points in the distance where the clouds hover in the sky.

But Wufan doesn't look at them. He can hear it though. A storm sits on the horizon, threatening to ruin their moment of paradise. Wufan sits up so he's level with Yixing. "Yixing," he says, words groggy and stiff. "Yixing," he repeats, trying not to sound too desperate.

Yixing looks concerned, and a little confused. "What? What's wrong?"

But Wufan doesn't say anything. He leans in, fingers tracing the outline of Yixing's jaw, and kisses him.