True to his word, Jongin shows up at approximately half-past one in the afternoon, a tad red in the face presumably from being soaked in the mid-afternoon sun.

“Water,” he croaks when Kyungsoo opens the apartment door and he struggles off his shoes before darting to the fridge.

Kyungsoo shuts the door and trails after him, leaning against the counter as Jongin chugs down a cold bottle of water. He starts getting a little afraid that Jongin might take his shirt off again, though he tries not to think about it when the other finishes the entire bottle and moves to the sink to splash his face with water.

“I feel like a fully roasted peanut,” he moans, wiping his face with his already drenched shirt and he looks completely worn-out that all Kyungsoo wants is to kiss away the ugly frown on his mouth. He settles with fetching him a towel instead.

"Well that's what you get driving around in your scooter at this hour", Kyungsoo reprimands. "Why'd you switch anyway?"

“I’m helping out someone with something, so I had to keep my saturday mornings open,” Jongin explains, voice muffled from the towel smooshing his face. 

"Well that explains it," Kyungsoo says sarcastically and Jongin is more than a little surprised that he looks pissed. He lowers the towel and looks at Kyungsoo.

"Okay,” he says, dabbing the towel against his forehead one last time. “Remember Chanyeol from yesterday?" The other nods and he continues. "We're part of a dance crew we formed back in college. I've long since retired from competitions because, well, I injured my back a few years ago but I help with the choreography. They have a performance in two months and one of them twisted his ankle last week. So they asked me to step up and take his place. Practice is early in the mornings during weekends so I had to reschedule this job in the afternoon."

Kyungsoo doesn't say anything, brows knitting as he thinks it over, so Jongin adds, "I'm sorry. If... if it's inconvenient for you, I could switch it back."

This information is crowding Kyungsoo's brain at the moment but the one bit that stands out in his mind renders him very much distressed. "No it's not that. You... you said you injured your back, won't it hurt again if you dance?" he asks, worry etched clearly on his face.

"Oh," Jongin responds, caught off guard  by the genuine concern in Kyungsoo voice. "I'll be fine, really. That was ages ago, I've fully recovered since."

Kyungsoo doesn't quite believe him but drops it all the same by asking him something totally different. "Maybe you could come a little later, when the heat's not so bad."

Jongin smiles, too fondly for Kyungsoo's liking, so he starts walking away but stops when Jongin quickly says, "I could come by around four? It won’t be too hot by then.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he nods, striding toward the couch to get his bag. “I’m heading out, I’ll be back in a few hours. There’s food in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet.”

“Sweet!” Jongin cheers and opens the fridge again, this time inspecting the contents.

Kyungsoo glances back at him, squatting against the open fridge and making happy, excited noises as he picks up a container stuffed with tuna casserole and he laughs softly to himself. When he opens the door to leave he hears Jongin call out “Drive safe!” and he answers a simple “Bye Jongin” before stepping out.

It occurs to him, as he takes the few steps toward the elevator, how nice it would be if it were always like this -- Jongin seeing him off, Jongin’s playful noises when he’s eating his food, the hum of a tune under his breath as he moves about in the apartment, the different ways Jongin would smile at him, all of them equally entrancing. Basically just Jongin filling every single day.

“I could be so lucky,” Kyungsoo says to the empty elevator as he steps in.

____________

He’s already driven a couple blocks over when he feels a bit off for some reason, like something’s missing, but he doesn’t know exactly what. So he pulls over to the side and thinks real hard but nothing comes to him. Reaching over to the passenger seat, he grabs his bag and rifles through, picking out his cell… a packet of wet wipes… lip balm… note pad… yellow highlighter... black pen… blue pen… red pen… green pen. Why the heck do I have so many pens?  Hand lotion... half a roll of Mentos. Nope, all here.

He puts the bag back on the seat then frisks himself, starting from his shirt pocket down to the pockets of his pants and curses when he finds the right side empty. You brought everything but your damn wallet. Genius.

Kyungsoo hits himself on the head for being a ing dimwit and restarts his car, checking for traffic before making a u-turn to drive back to his building. On the elevator ride up, he’s trying to recall where he actually left his wallet but it escapes him entirely. He’ll start looking in the bedroom, he decides, as he sticks in his key and turns the lock.

“Hey Jongin! I forgot my wallet. Help me look!” he shouts as he toes off his shoes and walks into the living room. Jongin, though, isn’t there and he doesn’t answer either, puzzling Kyungsoo. He couldn’t have left because it’s only been half an hour since he went out.

A muffled sound floats from the bedroom and he calls out for Jongin again. Still no answer. Gnawing his lip a little too worriedly, he shuffles toward it where the door is half open. He peeks inside and almost bites his lip open because Jongin is in his bedroom, his back towards the door.

A pair of red wireless headphones snug against his ears.

And dancing against his broom like he’s making sweet passionate love to it.

He’s fully dressed though, (a small blessing which Kyungsoo thanks the high heavens for) but it doesn’t diminish the fact that he’s ing y gyrating his hips, following a smooth, calculated rhythm. With the way he’s counting under his breath Kyungsoo figures he’s most probably rehearsing a routine.

Jongin is highly skilled, he considers, as the dance shifts into a series of pops and locks and even if it’s a mere run-through, the moves are clean and precise. Kyungsoo is quite enjoying this private (and accidental) show when it hits him that this is so wrong.

This isn’t some damn peep show. And he decides to let Jongin know he’s there the only way he could think of under the circumstances. He takes a sock off one foot, balls it into his hand, aiming for Jongin’s head and throws it just as he starts executing a body roll.

Jongin leaps and turns around, shouting “Jesus Kyungsoo!” when he sees him. He slides the headphones off his ears to slip it around his neck and says, a little short-winded, “I didn’t hear you come in. Why’d you come back?”

The sinful roll of Jongin’s hips flashes in his mind and he bites the inside of his cheek for a second to keep him grounded. “Wallet. It’s. Forgot.” Can you be any more of a , Kyungsoo. He inhales and tries again. “I forgot my wallet. I can’t find it anywhere.”

“Ah. I’ll help you look,” he says, propping the now defiled broom against a wall. “What does it look like?”

“Black. Leather. Folded.” Jongin nods and replies, “I’ll start here then.”

“I’ll search the living room,” Kyungsoo says and walks out, heading straight for the couch. He flips the cushions over and mildly panics when he doesn’t find it there. Just then he hears a noise from the bedroom and Jongin skips triumphantly out, carrying the black leather wallet in his hand.

He can’t make himself look at Jongin directly so when he hands over the wallet, Kyungsoo locks his eyes on it as he grabs the other end. But when he pulls, Jongin doesn’t let go so he does it again but the other’s hand holds tightly to it. Kyungsoo is frowning when he looks up and this time Jongin lets go, snickering.

“You should smile more, Kyungsoo. It’s too pretty to keep to yourself.”

And with that Jongin turns around, setting his headphones back against his ears and saunters into the bedroom, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room, feeling like a giant firecracker had gone off right in front of his face. He’s rendered frozen and blinded and it’s only after a minute that he shakes off the initial shock.

“Oh,” he whispers, his stomach swooping unexpectedly. Blinking around for a few seconds, he remembers what he came here for and drops the wallet in his pocket. He walks to the door and slips on his shoes, then exits the apartment on unsteady knees, too dazed to notice that one foot is entirely missing a sock.

____________

“He said my smile is pretty,” Kyungsoo mutters, right in the middle of everyone digging into their lunch, unable to keep it to himself as he recalls what Jongin said yesterday.

“Well it’s true. But who did?” Baekhyun questions as he reaches for a plate of steaming dumplings. Jongdae spares Kyungsoo a sideways glance before going back to his egg rolls.

Breathing in the delicious aroma wafting from his Kung Pao Chicken, he answers, “Jongin did. Can someone pass the fried rice?”

Baekhyun stops dead, his arm still extended straight out, but everyone else continues eating. “And who’s Jongin?” Yixing inquires just as he picks up a thin piece of chicken with his chopsticks.

“The cleaning lady,” Baekhyun answers, somewhat awestruck and Kyungsoo elbows him in the arm.

There’s a pregnant pause as everyone twist their heads in Kyungsoo’s direction and he sees Yixing’s  piece of chicken drop right back into the bowl as they all stare blankly at him.