The summer of 2011 didn’t ask to be remembered. It was just there.

Yeonjun remembered it because of Soobin.
Soobin lived two streets over, Soobin was quiet but not shy more like he listened too deeply. He wore loose shirts and had this habit of smiling before he spoke like he was choosing his words carefully.

Yeonjun noticed him first at the bus stop.
Soobin was reading, lips moving slightly, hair falling into his eyes. Yeonjun leaned his bike against the fence and watched without realizing he was staring.

“You’re gonna miss the bus” Yeonjun said making him jump out of his thoughts.
Soobin looked up startled “Oh Right."

The bus groaned to a stop. Doors hissed open. Soobin hurried on, glancing back once. Yeonjun watched the bus pull away and felt something settle in his chest small, curious, unfinished.

He didn’t know then that summers had a way of choosing people for you.

Soobin’s father owned a bookstore near the main road, it was squeezed between a tailor shop and a bakery that always smelled like burnt sugar. Soobin took care of it most afternoons. Yeonjun found out by accident. He rode past one day, slowing when he saw Soobin through the window. Yeonjun didn’t mean to stop. He just did.. and that become their thing

Yeonjun would show up in the afternoons, bike chained outside, pretending to browse while Soobin pretended not to wait for him. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they didn’t. They started walking home together. Soobin talked about books and how characters felt more real than people sometimes. Yeonjun talked about nothing important except the way he felt lighter when Soobin laughed.

One evening as they were walking back home, rain started halfway.

They ran breathless, reaching soobin's home. Soobin was soaked, hair plastered to his forehead and glasses fogged. Yeonjun watched a drop of water slide down Soobin’s jaw and felt his chest tighten for reasons he didn’t understand yet.

“You can come in,” Soobin said quietly. “Dad won’t be back for hours.”

Yeonjun hesitated only for a second before nodding. Inside the house. Rain hit softly against the windows. Soobin kicked off his shoes, padding across the floor to grab a towel.

“You’re dripping everywhere,” he said, but there was no real complaint in it.

“So are you,” Yeonjun replied. Soobin handed him the towel anyway. Their fingers brushed barely and it felt louder than the thunder outside. "You can borrow my shirt" He led him to the bedroom, flicking on a small lamp instead of the overhead light. The room glowed warm and dim, the room was a little messy, the bed unmade.

Soobin rummaged through his drawer, pulling out a loose T-shirt. “These might be big on you,” he said, not quite looking. “oh I’ll—” Soobin gestured vaguely. “I’ll turn around.”

He did, facing the wall, but Soobin could still see Yeonjun's reflection faintly in the mirror, soobin's shoulders tense, fingers twisting together. Yeonjun peeled off his wet shirt, the fabric sticking as he wore Soobin's shirt.

His gaze caught a book. Its cover was glossy, bright and the title made it interesting. He picked it up, flipping it open with a teasing grin. “Ohhh, what’s this?”

Soobin’s head whipped around like a jack-in-the-box. His face went red, a color Yeonjun had never seen so sharp, so fast. “GIVE. THAT. BACK.” Yeonjun laughed, holding it out just out of reach. “Oh no, looks interesting! Mind if I…?”

“YEONJUN!” Soobin lunged, hands snapping toward the book, knocking it from Yeonjun’s grip. The moment sent both of them stumbling backwards. Yeonjun fell onto the unmade bed first. Soobin landed on top of him, and his face was just inches from Yeonjun’s.

“You’re… kinda heavy and close,” Yeonjun mumbled, trying to keep a straight face but failing entirely. "Chill it's just a book"