They'd gone daytripping down to the shore at Sextilis 8 for Shinn's birthday, that September 1, 73; their whole gang from the Academy, him, and Luna and Meyrin, Vino and Yolant and a couple of other people.

And Rey.

Shinn actually couldn't give him too much crap about the sun sensitivity look; at least he was remotely familiar with the concept, unlike all of the PLANT kids.

If anyone was going to be, it was his roomie the White[…r Shade of Pale] Ghost. Rey almost wasn't recognizable as Rey, what with the long-sleeved blue button-down and dark sunglasses he was sporting, and the broad-brimmed canvas old-man hat that even Rey couldn't make look remotely cool.

He seemed to have temporarily ditched it all to go in the water, though, as Shinn had wandered down the beach away from the crowd — peaceful distance from Luna's pressured nagging and Vino's hilariously painful attempts at flirting with Meyrin — climbed a dune, and found the evidence.

Sometimes, Shinn wondered why he didn't hate Rey more (or at all, really).

Between being smarter, never getting into trouble, always having the answers for shit—

The girls at the Academy - even a couple of the guys - had gone stupidly and predictably nuts for him (with the rather notable exception of Luna, but as even Luna explained…), but once he'd politely but irrevocably turned down any social contact that wasn't in a group, they all kept their admiration at a distance.

As Luna explained, Rey was a bit scary at times. ("But so are you. Don't ask me how I ended up being friends with you both!")

Watching Rey slowly reappear and drip out of the water, though, Shinn wished he had more of a knowledge of art, or something, if it would let him explain what made Rey so much better-looking.

It was an almost blindingly bright, hot day, and it all seemed to be wrapped up in the quiet, wet body of his friend.

Shinn knew why he didn't hate Rey, though, and chief on the list of reasons was how… it wasn't that Rey didn't care about whichever one of Shinn's fifty million moods Shinn happened to be in (and that were ALL too extreme for everyone else, it seemed), it was that somehow, Rey understood why he felt what he felt, why he did what he did.

How the hell that could be when the guy had an emotional range (and yes; it was a range; Shinn was proud of himself for having picked up that much) that… well, it varied, but it was so subtle (especially if there was anyone else around…) that you just had to really, really, really look.

Rey was so good at hiding himself, most of the time, Shinn wondered if anyone else had bothered to look.

Shinn was a better swimmer, though, maybe even the best at the Academy; but then, he'd spent most of his life with things like pounding surf, current, and tides. The carefully-engineered Coordinator beaches were like a bathtub, in comparison.

You could still drown in them, though.

He shot out and threw himself into the water and the algorithmed waves, anyway, stroking out in a fierce crawl and back, for the sake of body-feeling and accomplishment, and not memory-feeling.

He couldn't tell if Rey was watching him when he got out or not, but… he probably was. Damn sunglasses. Rey silently offered his own towel, when Shinn had trudged up to the dune, and Shinn swiped at his face and chest with the dually rough-and-soft cotton, before plunking down.

"You know this is my third one already? On my own?"

"Do you want to talk about them?"

Shinn sighed. "Yeah, I do. But… later."

Rey was the only one — the only one — he never hesitated to bring up Mom and Dad and Mayu with. More than that, there was almost an appreciation of all Shinn's stupid stories of brownies and elementary school and camping and splinters. Pointless, mundane notes from a lost world, and the most desperately precious stuff that he had, that was so damn necessary to issue, and to keep…

It was like his family was Rey's, his memories, shared, at this point.

"Do you know what it's like, having a little sister? How they're really annoying, and dumb, and they want all the answers from you, and you to do everything, and protect them… but they're just so… cute. And you can't help yourself…"

"I think I'm learning."

Rey knew all the details of his stories by now, to the point where Shinn could just say "Mayu's pigtails", and Rey would give one of those nearly-imperceptible gestures of recognition.

Shinn fucking loved him for that, frankly, not that he was ever going to share that with anyone… but it was like… having another body to put your soul into. Or something.

He got up, and stretched, snatched Rey's sunglasses away and kicked at his foot, tauntingly—

Then Rey hooked his ankle and somehow Shinn ended up flat on top of him, lost in the dunes.

"See, you could have made me land here by accident, or on purpose; I'm still not gonna move." Shinn smirked.

Rey half-arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, hell. Fucker." Shinn leaned down, closed his eyes and smashed their lips together.

He really wasn't expecting the electric jolt that shot straight down his spine, like a bolt from—

He stopped thinking, kept feeling, and buried his fingers into Rey's shining hair.

…And his tongue into Rey's all-understanding mouth, wise, wet, warm.

For his part, Rey had one hand firmly splayed on his sun-heated back and the other fisted into Shinn's messy black mop.

It was the both of them, though, making those small wordless noises of pleasure and surrender that said more than anything (…than even Rey could have made eloquent, Shinn was sure), and he didn't know how long the whole thing lasted.

Finally, he rolled off Rey and lay there in the pale sand next to him, chest trembling, groin throbbing in his damp yellow swim trunks.

That voice, the one that knew everything; one side, and inside, of him. "Happy birthday, Shinn."

For a rarity, Shinn couldn't talk; the sounds of the waves, or the birds, or his heartbeat, were louder. His hand shot out, reflexively, and latched on to one that didn't belong to him. After a moment, Rey leaned up on his elbow, reached out and gently touched Shinn's face with his free hand; those pianist's fingers, tender, gifted.

"Sweet sixteen, is the expression, isn't it?"

…Was it even worth it, to snarl at him and say 'that's for girls, asshole'? Maybe he was a girl in another life. Maybe Rey was prettier, had more beauty, than a lot of girls now. Whatever.

Those penetrating blue eyes had this expression Shinn somehow had and hadn't seen there, before. Ghost of a developing smile on that face. "Well. You have been kissed."

"I kissed you! …Asshole."

"Would you like me to rectify that?"

"…I…" He couldn't stare at the sun; so Shinn closed his eyes. Imagined Rey's lips, hands, gentle, on his neck, on his shoulder, on all of him… "Are you going to live with me, Rey?"

"How do you mean?"

"Whenever we get assigned wherever we get assigned, next."

"If you don't want me to, I won't."

Shinn kept imagining. "I want you to. Badly."

"Then I will."

"Then we have time. I can wait for you. To— rectify… that. At least until… you know, I've got a birthday tonight, too." The two of them, at some near point, without any boundaries— …Almost, it was almost hard for him to breathe. Or swallow.

"Shinn. I hope you have many more."

…Suddenly, the sky was bluer, the noise had vanished, and the heat of the day felt like part of Shinn's body, too. He couldn't help smiling.

And somehow, somehow, he knew — it was his past, free, untroubled expression.

Amazingly, Rey had given it back to him.

For now, for later, for the future.

He tugged Rey's hand. "Let's go play some volleyball with Luna and murder Vino and Yolant and Meyrin before they make us split up. C'mon, the sun's gonna go down soon." There'd still be a bonfire later, and fireworks, with cake and candles and wishing and ice cream, but— Shinn grabbed Rey's hat, plunked it on his own head, and grinned wide. "You know it looks much better on me, anyway, dork."

Imperceptible smile.