Ship/Member: Seokhao, 97z mention Major Tags: beach day Additional Tags: N/A Permission to remix: Yes
***
“We should go to the beach.” Seokmin suggests one day, eyes bright in the reflection of the morning sun, “We’ve been here for almost 3 years and I’ve never been to the Santa Monica Pier.”
Minghao uncurls from his position on the mat so he could look at where Seokmin is, half buried under the blankets. Seokmin’s expression is as awake as he ever is at 9AM in the morning. The idea of having that knowledge, of knowing what Seokmin looks like in the process of waking makes something curl warm and comforting in between Minghao’s ribs.
It feels a little like devotion, like love right on the tip of the tongue.
“Sure, when were you thinking?” Minghao asks, leaning forward again until he could feel a tug on his hamstring.
Seokmin hums, the sound of tapping coming from where Minghao can’t see and he knows Seokmin must be checking his dates and availability.
“How about next weekend? Your internship will be done, my workshop will be wrapped up and it’s the last weekend before our semester starts again.” Seokmin finally says, tilting his smartphone towards where Minghao is now arching his back to show him the calendar. “When are you done again? I mean don’t get me wrong it’s very sexy to watch but I’m bored now.”
“Yes, I’m done now.” Minghao laughs, “And it’s good for you. Yoga increases blood flow and flexibility.”
Seokmin makes a face but he’s smiling, and Minghao already knows what he wants to say, the same response from the same conversation that they have had dozens of times. He will be affectionately mocking in a way that only Seokmin could be while Minghao patiently explains the benefits of pulling your body into dozens of improbable shapes, the ways that your muscles and bones will thank you.
He hopes they will have this conversation hundreds more times, every day for the rest of his life if he had the choice.
“Yeah, let’s go next Saturday.” Minghao says before Seokmin can respond, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I miss the beach.”
Minghao packs for them because if it were left to Seokmin, they would arrive at the beach sans sunscreen and changes of clothing and anything else that wasn’t related to surfing or running barefoot through the sand. Instead, he’s relegated to helping Minghao load everything into their old beat up Toyota sedan.
From there, it’s an hour drive from their tiny apartment in the heart of Koreatown to the beach, A/C on full blast against the sweltering Los Angeles heat. Seokmin sings loudly and purposefully off tune to the songs on Minghao’s playlist and Minghao flips through the news and internet, reading anything interesting he finds. Halfway through the drive, they call up Mingyu whose all the way across the country in New York for the summer, just so Seokmin could rub it into his face that he couldn’t be at the beach with them.
“It’s not as if we can’t just go again when I get back.” Mingyu says, the sound of the radio a buzz in the background of his call.
“But it won’t be the same as the first time with us.” Seokmin trills, smug, “You’re missing the discovery and wonder.”
Mingyu audibly snorts and says, “Discovery and wonder my ass, this isn’t even the first beach we’ve been to. I bet you’re going to get sunburned,” to which Seokmin squawks indignantly and the conversation only derails further from there.
Minghao listens to Seokmin and Mingyu bicker, only stepping in before it can devolve further than petty names, their words still softened with fondness, never meant to hurt.
“Text us your flight details for next week, we’ll pick you up from the airport. We miss you.” Minghao says, and ends the call before Seokmin could interject with something childish.
It’s half past 11 by the time they arrive at the beach, the sun blistering in the sky. Seokmin voluntarily slathers on sunscreen, Mingyu’s sunburn threat clearly still lingering in his mind. Privately, Minghao doesn’t think Seokmin, who is bronzed like precious metal, is the one more likely to sunburn between the two of them.
They unload the rest of the car and Seokmin hoists the beach umbrella under his arm while Minghao carries the tote and beach chairs.. Both of them share the weight of the cooler filled with lunch and bottled water, and set off to find an unoccupied plot of sand.
“Want to join me surfing?” Seokmin asks after they’ve set up their spot.
Minghao shakes his head, already fishing for the book he’s stashed under the extra towels. “No, I’ll watch. Have fun in the sun.”
Seokmin nods, already expecting the answer, “I’ll be back soon.”
The kiss he gives leaves Minghao’s cheek warm, flushed by something other than the burning sun.
Seokmin finally finishes up a little before 4 and returns clearly ravenous. His hair is still damp but he’s already stripped out of his wetsuit back into regular beachwear. Minghao, for his part, has read less than he would have liked, constantly distracted by Seokmin trying to catch his attention from amongst the waves or in between tides. He puts away the book and holds out a towel; Seokmin dutifully sits in the other beach chair.
Minghao towels off his hair gently, running fingers through the locks bleached by the light, a field of wheat spun into gold. He doesn’t think he would ever tire of this, of the privilege of drying Seokmin’s hair after showers and rain, of seeing Seokmin close his eyes and sigh into the pressure against his scalp.
Minghao feels the thing in his chest swell, pressing against his lungs and threatening to burst with the fullness of the feeling.
They eat sandwiches as a late lunch, Minghao’s filled with mostly vegetables and Seokmin’s piled as high with cheese and meat as he feasibly could. Seokmin digs his toes into the sand, shuffling them until slyly until he’s poking the arch of Minghao’s foot, and then laughs when Minghao almost drops his sandwich at the unexpected contact. They talk about the water and Minghao’s book, small stories about work until they’re dusting crumbs off their swim shorts.
“C’mon, let’s go into the water for a bit.” Seokmin says, eyes twinkling with sincerity, reaching for Minghao.
His fingers are warm, by heat and joy, and Minghao follows willingly. If Seokmin glowed even under the most ordinary of circumstances, he was blinding under the summer sun and Minghao was enraptured by the light of him. Seokmin was fearless of the waves, dunking his whole body into the water despite the chill, and was not above splashing Minghao upon seeing his hesitation.
“C’mon you weenie, you’ve got to get a little wet at the beach.” Seokmin laughs, shaking droplets like diamonds out of his hair.
He smiles in the way only Seokmin does, without expectations, because there is something to smile about even when all else is dark. Seokmin is dazzling against the dark of the waves, the bright blue of the sky, and Minghao feels as if the ocean itself is swallowing him whole with the depth of his wanting. This was a feeling he could die with, a love so deep Mazu herself would have coveted it among her heavenly splendor.
“Of course, I’m coming.” Minghao says, and follows Seokmin into the sea.
---
I’m a little nervous posting this because ki, I suspect you will know who I am immediately but I wanted to try something. also i didn't edit any of this and most of it has nothing to do with the ocean.
title from siken, "saying your names" which has also nothing to do with any of this in actuality.
[FILL] a boat in the sea of love
Major Tags: beach day
Additional Tags: N/A
Permission to remix: Yes
***
“We should go to the beach.” Seokmin suggests one day, eyes bright in the reflection of the morning sun, “We’ve been here for almost 3 years and I’ve never been to the Santa Monica Pier.”
Minghao uncurls from his position on the mat so he could look at where Seokmin is, half buried under the blankets. Seokmin’s expression is as awake as he ever is at 9AM in the morning. The idea of having that knowledge, of knowing what Seokmin looks like in the process of waking makes something curl warm and comforting in between Minghao’s ribs.
It feels a little like devotion, like love right on the tip of the tongue.
“Sure, when were you thinking?” Minghao asks, leaning forward again until he could feel a tug on his hamstring.
Seokmin hums, the sound of tapping coming from where Minghao can’t see and he knows Seokmin must be checking his dates and availability.
“How about next weekend? Your internship will be done, my workshop will be wrapped up and it’s the last weekend before our semester starts again.” Seokmin finally says, tilting his smartphone towards where Minghao is now arching his back to show him the calendar. “When are you done again? I mean don’t get me wrong it’s very sexy to watch but I’m bored now.”
“Yes, I’m done now.” Minghao laughs, “And it’s good for you. Yoga increases blood flow and flexibility.”
Seokmin makes a face but he’s smiling, and Minghao already knows what he wants to say, the same response from the same conversation that they have had dozens of times. He will be affectionately mocking in a way that only Seokmin could be while Minghao patiently explains the benefits of pulling your body into dozens of improbable shapes, the ways that your muscles and bones will thank you.
He hopes they will have this conversation hundreds more times, every day for the rest of his life if he had the choice.
“Yeah, let’s go next Saturday.” Minghao says before Seokmin can respond, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I miss the beach.”
Minghao packs for them because if it were left to Seokmin, they would arrive at the beach sans sunscreen and changes of clothing and anything else that wasn’t related to surfing or running barefoot through the sand. Instead, he’s relegated to helping Minghao load everything into their old beat up Toyota sedan.
From there, it’s an hour drive from their tiny apartment in the heart of Koreatown to the beach, A/C on full blast against the sweltering Los Angeles heat. Seokmin sings loudly and purposefully off tune to the songs on Minghao’s playlist and Minghao flips through the news and internet, reading anything interesting he finds. Halfway through the drive, they call up Mingyu whose all the way across the country in New York for the summer, just so Seokmin could rub it into his face that he couldn’t be at the beach with them.
“It’s not as if we can’t just go again when I get back.” Mingyu says, the sound of the radio a buzz in the background of his call.
“But it won’t be the same as the first time with us.” Seokmin trills, smug, “You’re missing the discovery and wonder.”
Mingyu audibly snorts and says, “Discovery and wonder my ass, this isn’t even the first beach we’ve been to. I bet you’re going to get sunburned,” to which Seokmin squawks indignantly and the conversation only derails further from there.
Minghao listens to Seokmin and Mingyu bicker, only stepping in before it can devolve further than petty names, their words still softened with fondness, never meant to hurt.
“Text us your flight details for next week, we’ll pick you up from the airport. We miss you.” Minghao says, and ends the call before Seokmin could interject with something childish.
It’s half past 11 by the time they arrive at the beach, the sun blistering in the sky. Seokmin voluntarily slathers on sunscreen, Mingyu’s sunburn threat clearly still lingering in his mind. Privately, Minghao doesn’t think Seokmin, who is bronzed like precious metal, is the one more likely to sunburn between the two of them.
They unload the rest of the car and Seokmin hoists the beach umbrella under his arm while Minghao carries the tote and beach chairs.. Both of them share the weight of the cooler filled with lunch and bottled water, and set off to find an unoccupied plot of sand.
“Want to join me surfing?” Seokmin asks after they’ve set up their spot.
Minghao shakes his head, already fishing for the book he’s stashed under the extra towels. “No, I’ll watch. Have fun in the sun.”
Seokmin nods, already expecting the answer, “I’ll be back soon.”
The kiss he gives leaves Minghao’s cheek warm, flushed by something other than the burning sun.
Seokmin finally finishes up a little before 4 and returns clearly ravenous. His hair is still damp but he’s already stripped out of his wetsuit back into regular beachwear. Minghao, for his part, has read less than he would have liked, constantly distracted by Seokmin trying to catch his attention from amongst the waves or in between tides. He puts away the book and holds out a towel; Seokmin dutifully sits in the other beach chair.
Minghao towels off his hair gently, running fingers through the locks bleached by the light, a field of wheat spun into gold. He doesn’t think he would ever tire of this, of the privilege of drying Seokmin’s hair after showers and rain, of seeing Seokmin close his eyes and sigh into the pressure against his scalp.
Minghao feels the thing in his chest swell, pressing against his lungs and threatening to burst with the fullness of the feeling.
They eat sandwiches as a late lunch, Minghao’s filled with mostly vegetables and Seokmin’s piled as high with cheese and meat as he feasibly could. Seokmin digs his toes into the sand, shuffling them until slyly until he’s poking the arch of Minghao’s foot, and then laughs when Minghao almost drops his sandwich at the unexpected contact. They talk about the water and Minghao’s book, small stories about work until they’re dusting crumbs off their swim shorts.
“C’mon, let’s go into the water for a bit.” Seokmin says, eyes twinkling with sincerity, reaching for Minghao.
His fingers are warm, by heat and joy, and Minghao follows willingly. If Seokmin glowed even under the most ordinary of circumstances, he was blinding under the summer sun and Minghao was enraptured by the light of him. Seokmin was fearless of the waves, dunking his whole body into the water despite the chill, and was not above splashing Minghao upon seeing his hesitation.
“C’mon you weenie, you’ve got to get a little wet at the beach.” Seokmin laughs, shaking droplets like diamonds out of his hair.
He smiles in the way only Seokmin does, without expectations, because there is something to smile about even when all else is dark. Seokmin is dazzling against the dark of the waves, the bright blue of the sky, and Minghao feels as if the ocean itself is swallowing him whole with the depth of his wanting. This was a feeling he could die with, a love so deep Mazu herself would have coveted it among her heavenly splendor.
“Of course, I’m coming.” Minghao says, and follows Seokmin into the sea.
---
I’m a little nervous posting this because ki, I suspect you will know who I am immediately but I wanted to try something. also i didn't edit any of this and most of it has nothing to do with the ocean.
title from siken, "saying your names" which has also nothing to do with any of this in actuality.