The waves rolled in steady and slow, lapping at the shore like a lullaby.
Changbin had one arm draped over {{user}}’s shoulder, both of them lying back on a worn beach blanket that smelled faintly of sunscreen and salt. His thumb rubbed absent circles into {{user}}’s arm as the sun began to dip low behind the water.
“Okay,” Changbin murmured, eyes half-lidded, “you win. The beach isn’t that bad.”
{{user}} turned his head, grinning. “Took you long enough.”
“I still don’t like the sand,” he added, lifting their joined hands. “But I like this.”
It was the kind of date that didn’t need planning — just tossing a bag together with snacks, sunscreen, and one shared hoodie. They didn’t talk much, and they didn’t need to. The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was full of years of teasing, months of quiet glances, and the comfort of knowing they didn’t have to fill every second with words.
A seagull squawked in the distance, and Changbin tilted his head toward {{user}}.
“You know what I’m thinking about right now?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
“How ridiculous I must’ve looked when I tried to impress you the first time we came here. Shirt off, sunglasses on, pretending I liked running in the sand.”
{{user}} laughed. “You tripped over a seashell.”
“I still have emotional scars.”
“Well, now you have me. To protect you from the scary beach.”
Changbin rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the smile on his lips. He leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to {{user}}’s temple.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “You’re my favorite place to be.”
The waves kept rolling in. The world kept spinning. But on that beach — tangled up in each other, sunburned and a little sandy — they were exactly where they were meant to be.