“To resist a compulsion with willpower alone is to hold back an avalanche by melting the snow with a candle.  It just keeps coming and coming and coming.” – David Adam

     Do Kyungsoo always had a rather complicated relationship with time for as long as he could remember.  There are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year - twelve months, fifty-two weeks, eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours, and millions of seconds in between.  He knew the measurements, the numbers.  He knew what it felt like to turn a year older and feel no different than he had the week before, and even though it meant nothing at all, it still somehow meant everything.  That is time, and even though someone, some day, decided to put it into a bunch of ambiguous terms to help others understand how much they had apparently wasted or how much they had left, and even though people like Kyungsoo did their absolute best to ignore the way the clock was counting down unwaveringly fast or at the speed of dripping molasses; no one can ever really tell what will happen from one vaguely defined point in time to the next.  This had always bothered Kyungsoo, frankly.

     There are people that never seem to notice time, and there are people that seem to notice it far too often.  Kyungsoo was born an unfortunate mix of the two.  He was the type to get so immersed in arbitrary thoughts or ideas that he would lose hours staring at the same page of a novel.  Then he would spend a few more worrying about where they all could have gone.  It was one of the ways in which he was different from everyone else around him.  It was also the reason that he was now standing on the sidewalk in front of some nameless café, a navy wool coat buttoned up to his pale neck, a tall black coffee in his right hand, and a heavy scowl marking his otherwise handsome face as he looked down at the silver watch bound to his left wrist.

     Baekhyun was late.  Eight minutes, sixteen seconds and counting.  Byun Baekhyun was always late.  Kyungsoo never told him that, to be fair.  It was just one of the things that Kyungsoo noticed, something he couldn’t help no matter how hard he tried.  And he really didn’t point it out to Baekhyun.  Baekhyun just seemed to know, anyway.  Nineteen whole years of friendship was worth the knowledge, he figured.

     Baekhyun was one of the few people that truly knew Kyungsoo.  He knew how Kyungsoo needed to keep his shirts in order of color and his shoes in a straight line - just like how he knew about his existential crisis regarding the numbers on a clock - and even though Baekhyun didn’t understand exactly, he had always done his best.  It wasn’t easy being friends with someone like him, Kyungsoo knew.  But somehow, they made it work.

     There was a sudden deafening screech as Kyungsoo watched Baekhyun’s silver elantra barrel forward, his front tire missing the curb by the mere width of a sheet of paper.  He rolled down the passenger window with a rectangular shaped grin.  One that, despite its irregularity, was oddly suiting to his face.

  “Sorry I’m late, Soo.”  Ten minutes, thirty-two seconds.  “Get in.”

     Kyungsoo allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he popped open the door and slid into the sleek leather interior.  His fingertips and ears stung when the warm air hit them.  He didn’t wear gloves unless he really couldn’t help it.  He never liked it when things covered his hands or wrists, and he didn’t like how pieces of fuzz stuck to the sweat on his skin.

     Baekhyun glanced down at the reddened fingers as he shifted the car back into drive.  “Not cold enough for gloves yet?”  His voice was neutral.  He reached towards the center to turn the heat up significantly.

  “Will be soon,” Kyungsoo replied thoughtfully.  It snowed a bit over the weekend, only an inch or so, and it was the powdery kind that just looked nice and didn’t actually want to stick to the ground.  Most of it was already gone.  Only the harsh, biting wind of the season was there to stay.

  “As long as you don’t get yourself frostbite,” Baekhyun said with a smile.  There was a pause where his smile fell for the briefest of seconds, replaced with this look he always got when he was about to bring up something that he didn’t want to talk about.  It was like an odd cross between pursing his lips and grimacing at the same time.

  “Have you thought about Chanyeol’s offer?”  Or maybe it was something that Kyungsoo didn’t want to talk about.

     Chanyeol, or Park Chanyeol, was his other friend.  Though not necessarily his bestest friend (not his words, but rather Baekhyun's, upon claiming the position).  Chanyeol was probably just about the only other friend he had.  He had also been Baekhyun’s long term boyfriend since the tenth grade.

     He’d met the two at the beginning of high school, their teacher having come up with some intricate and downright incomprehensible English assignment and paired the three boys together.  Chanyeol was terrible at the language, and Baekhyun wasn’t much better.  None of them really seemed to mind though, even Kyungsoo who ended up doing a vast majority of the assignment.  Ever since then, the trio had been inseparable.

     That’s why it wasn’t such a shocker when Baekhyun and Chanyeol decided to move out of their apartments and look for one together, their first for just the two of them.  Kyungsoo honestly expected this much sooner.  They were twenty-six now and had been talking about living together since they were seventeen.  It was certainly a big step, and he was certainly overjoyed for the couple.  The only problem was, it left Kyungsoo without a roommate, alone in an apartment that he had shared since his very first semester of college.

     But he wasn’t alone in the situation.  Chanyeol had a roommate too, one Kim Jongin that apparently wanted to look for a roomie just about as much as Kyungsoo did.  This, both Chanyeol and Baekhyun, considered to be fate.  Kyungsoo had varying opinions on the subject, not one involving the word fate.

  “I considered it,” Kyungsoo replied finally, once they pulled up to a stop light.  He reached forward and turned the heater back to its original setting.  His fingers were warm enough.

  “And,” Baekhyun prompted.  He waited for the light to turn green before stepping on the gas again.

  “And,” Kyungsoo started, “I believe the same as I did last week, which is that I don’t actually need a roommate.”  Baekhyun opened his mouth, and Kyungsoo held up a finger before he could retaliate.  “I really don’t.  And who ever said that I wanted to leave my apartment?  I like my space.”

  “From what I understand, Jongin is pretty indifferent about the whole thing.  If you two were to become roommates, then he could move into my old room just as easily,” Baekhyun supplied with a hopeful and oddly innocent look in his eyes.  Innocence is not usually a word one would use to describe Byun Baekhyun.

     Kyungsoo snorted.  “Who ever said that I wanted to share my apartment?”

  “It’s half my apartment too.”

  “Not once you leave.  It’ll be all mine.”  Kyungsoo chuckled to himself as Baekhyun turned to the side, taking his gaze off of the road to offer up the most offended expression he could muster.

  “Well now you’re just splitting hairs here.  But seriously, you dealt with me in your personal space.  How much worse could a friend of a friend be?”  He finally looked back towards the road, turning on some randomly numbered city street that Kyungsoo could never seem to keep track of.  Baekhyun had always done the driving.  That was that.  Kyungsoo could drive, and sure, Baekhyun had initially been distressing behind the wheel back in high school, but some things, he found, were better left to his best(est) friend.

  “You… you’re an acquired taste.  I’ve learned to enjoy you over the years.  However, I have no intention of altering my palette now.”  He laughed harder as Baekhyun reached over and punched him in the shoulder.  It wasn’t hard.  Kyungsoo wasn’t too sure that Baekhyun could hit hard if he tried, but the car swerved slightly in response to the hit and a cacophony of horns sounded behind them.

  “Seriously, Soo.”

  “Seriously, Baek.  I’m perfectly capable on my own.”  Baekhyun gave him a doubtful look this time, prodding three fingers into the other’s ribcage.

  “You get so busy that you forget to eat half the time.  Unless,” Baekhyun exaggerated, “you have someone to cook for.  I’m not going to be there every night.  Chanyeol won’t be there.  You don’t invite anyone else over.  This leads me to believe that without a roommate, you will most certainly starve to death.  I can’t let my best friend starve to death,” he concluded.  Although his voice was light and his smile was amused, Kyungsoo could tell by the look in his eyes that there was a hint of seriousness in it as well.  He knew that Baekhyun was afraid to leave him alone.  They’d practically been raised together.  Baekhyun had seen all of Kyungsoo’s worst moments, and all together, there were probably enough to warrant his hesitation.

  “I’ll eat.  Even if I don’t every single meal, I’ll get hungry enough eventually.  If you’re really that concerned, you can just call.”

  “You know that I’ll call even if you do have a roommate.  We'll be on the phone so much that you won't be able to get any work done, because that's just how much I care about you.  And you can't ignore me, either.  I’ll just break the door down and come looking for you.”  Baekhyun insisted, almost entirely serious this time.  “But you know that’s not all this is about.”

     Kyungsoo looked down at his lap, at the fingers that had recently regained feeling and the skinny jeans that hadn’t provided much warmth for his legs either.  “Yeah, I know.”  He glanced back up, giving a half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

     Baekhyun sighed softly.  “It’s not something you should be ashamed about.  And I’m not saying that I don’t trust you, or that you can’t handle yourself alone.  I’m just saying that it might be better for you to live with Jongin.  He’s a good guy, not much of a talker if you remember.  I know you guys met a few times.  He also keeps his space neat, like really neat, like your space pretty much.  As far as I can tell, he doesn’t have any habits that would annoy you, either.  Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to branch out socially.  This could be beneficial in more ways than one.”

  “I branch out,” Kyungsoo replied indignantly, conveniently ignoring the rest of Baekhyun’s speech.  “I see Luhan and Xiumin all the time.”

  “Two baristas that you see every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from exactly eleven a.m. until exactly twelve p.m. while you drink your coffee and work on your laptop at a table in the corner of the café.  Do you even talk to them?”  Although Kyungsoo was slightly annoyed from the line of questioning, he was quite impressed at his schedule memorization.

  “Of course.”

  “Idle chit-chat does not count.”

  “You know I don’t care for chit-chat.”

  “Fair enough.  But they still don’t count.”  Baekhyun smirked as Kyungsoo frowned, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

  “Junmyeon-”

  “Is your boss, who you meet up with once a week for lunch.  Aside from that, you have practically no contact.  This is my point.”  Over the course of their discussion, the vehicle had somehow leapt into a neighborhood that was familiar to Kyungsoo, the soaring, reflective skyscrapers disappearing into smaller apartment complexes and fashionable shops, but he still couldn’t place it yet.

  “Fine, fine.  I have no social life.  I’m not saying it’s healthy, but that’s how I like it.”  Kyungsoo nodded his head once, like he was approving of the words that were leaving his mouth, or trying to make himself believe that they were true.

     Baekhyun heaved an even greater sigh, running a hand through his light brown hair in minor frustration.  He expected as much, reasoning with Kyungsoo.  “Think about Jongin then.  He’s just like you.  It’s not healthy for him to be alone all the time either, and maybe he’s not as content with it as you are.  He also can’t afford to live by himself in the middle of the city.  You managed to find a well-paying work-from-home job the minute you set foot out of university.  Jongin was not so fortunate.  There’s no way that he can keep a two bedroom in their complex for what his job pays him right now.  So consider being his roommate for him, alright?”

     In that moment, Kyungsoo could feel his confidence shifting.  He hadn’t really thought about it from Jongin’s perspective.  He didn’t even consider why Jongin might want Kyungsoo as his roommate.  It made sense, though.  Kyungsoo didn’t really know Jongin on a personal level.  They’d met before, yes, but mostly in brief instances of passing within his and Chanyeol’s apartment.  He felt for the kid - if you could call someone only two years younger than yourself a kid.  Jongin had put himself through college, working odd jobs and making good use of an academic scholarship to get by, and even then he made time for Chanyeol and his family, of which only his older sister was left.  He was a genuine person.  Kyungsoo didn’t receive this information from Jongin, of course, but from Chanyeol, who told him everything, even the things he likely shouldn't.

     In all honesty, Baekhyun knew that it was a low blow to bring up Jongin’s circumstances in order to get his way.  Not only was it unfair to Jongin, but it was also extremely manipulative to Kyungsoo.  He knew how Kyungsoo would always place other people’s needs above his own, even if he wasn't particularly close to them.  He was simply too good of a person, sometimes kind to the point of stupidity.  In the end though, Baekhyun decided not to feel too bad about it.  This was for Kyungsoo and Jongin, after all.  They needed each other.  If Baekhyun had to be a calculating about it, so be it.  This was for them.

     He could tell that Kyungsoo was still thinking about it.  His lips were screwed to the side, gaze absently settled across the dashboard as a set of fingers thrummed steadily atop his knee.  He let out a slow breath.

  “Alright, but I want to meet him first.  Actually meet him.”

     In less than a second, Baekhyun had his head turned completely away from the road again, a grin so large and so powerful that Kyungsoo was legitimately concerned that it would get stuck like that.  “You mean it?”  He questioned, although they both knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer now.

  “Not if you don’t watch the road,” Kyungsoo amended pointedly.

     Baekhyun shrugged, releasing a small hum as he veered off to the side of the street, somehow managing to find a parking space, literally, without looking for one.  “Don’t need to.  We’re here.”  He grinned widely again, like a child with a brand new toy.

     Kyungsoo scrunched his brows together.  “I thought we were going to lunch.”  He glanced up at the building next to them.  Nothing special really.  It was a bank, just like any other in the city, first floor set in some flashy marble with fake potted plants near the entrance, while the upper floors were almost entirely composed of glass.  It wasn’t special, but Kyungsoo knew it all too well.  He looked just two buildings up the block towards another common looking building.  It was made up of a light textured concrete and units of glass with a rusty, old fire escape on the side, and just through the sliding doors, up three floors and down to the left, was Chanyeol’s and Jongin’s apartment.  And Kyungsoo knew that he had just been played.

  “You er.”

     All in all, the meeting with Jongin went incredibly well, despite the fact that Kyungsoo didn’t typically enjoy meeting new people and that Jongin seemed to embody nervousness.  There was a general rule for crying.  You’re either an exceptionally pretty crier - somehow those people do indeed exist - or you’re the majority, someone doomed to the likes of horridly pitiful ugly crying until the very day you meet your demise.  The same rule could be applied to a person when they’re anxious, and Kyungsoo almost found it almost frustrating how gorgeous Jongin was when he was avoiding eye contact.

     Jongin was always gorgeous, really.  He was tall and tan, like the kind of actors one might see starring in American movies, the handsome protagonist that every girl miraculously falls in love with by the end of the film.  He was all lean muscle and quiet strength, and there was unimaginable grace in every single thing he did.  Jongin was the type of person that never truly understood his own beauty though.  He kept his head down and spoke with a flustered pitch and got by on shy smiles.  Kyungsoo didn’t generally think of himself as that attractive, but he could see a bit of himself in Jongin.  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”  Baekhyun hummed, flopping down beside Kyungsoo on the leather sectional of their shared living room.  There was a Japanese thriller playing on the flat screen in front of them.  It looked like it had been made in the late 90s, awful quality and even worse hairstyles, but neither of them were actually paying attention to it.

  “What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo questioned, deeming ignorance as he shifted the steaming mug of coffee in his hands and glanced at the watch on his wrist for the eleventh time in the last five minutes.

  “Well, it’s been two days.  You said you’d have an answer for Jongin by tonight,” Baekhyun replied knowingly.  He seized the cup from Kyungsoo’s grasp and took a tentative sip.

  “Jesus Christ,” he blanched.  “Why in the hell do you drink this?”  He pushed the mug back into his best friend’s awaiting hands and swiped a sleeve across his mouth.

  “Why in the hell do you keep drinking it, knowing what it tastes like?” Kyungsoo retorted, the subtlest of smirks playing across his lips as he lifted the scalding drink to them.

     Baekhyun sputtered.  “Wishful thinking that it won’t always taste so goddamn terrible.”  He shook his head.  “As I was saying before that horrific beverage overwhelmed my senses-”

  “You drank it.”

  “As I was saying,” Baekhyun continued in a louder voice, “by your always impeccably accurate time table, you only have a couple more hours to give the guy your answer.  What are you going to say?”

  “I don’t know,” Kyungsoo sighed, tipping his head back against the couch.

     Baekhyun pursed his lips.  “I thought you were already decided though.”

  “I thought I was too.  Then I started really thinking about it, I guess.  Being roommates… it’s a lot, don’t you think?”  It was a rhetorical question, but still, Baekhyun answered.

  “Not really.  I mean, there are people that find roommates online or in the newspaper.  At least you know Jongin.  You know that your personalities won’t clash, and he won’t leave dishes or dirty socks all over the place.”  He might randomly bring home a stray dog every once in a while, but he was pretty upfront about that issue.  Kyungsoo liked dogs, anyway.

  “Yeah, I know all of that.  It helps.  I just…”  He trailed off unintentionally.  He seemed to think about it for a few seconds.  “I can’t,” he began again, but Baekhyun knew after the first attempt that he wouldn’t be able to say what was bothering him.  A frustrated sigh escaped Kyungsoo as he tousled his hair roughly, tugging on the ends a little before dropping his hand back down to his lap.

     It frustrated him that he couldn’t be as open about his feelings as other people could.  It made him angry even.  He wasn’t the type to get angry, but it felt like someone had stolen his voice and trapped it inside a perfect little box somewhere out of sight.  They criticized his worries, told him that they were stupid to begin with, that his emotions and concerns were meaningless, and that someone was always there.  Sometimes he could ignore it, the voice inside his head that lived to belittle him.  Other times, there were so many thoughts there and they were so demanding.  It felt like he was drowning.  Only, no one could pull him back to the surface.  No one could save Kyungsoo from himself.  And even sitting here, in his own home, on his own couch, with his very own best friend who was essentially his brother, the voice was there, telling him not to say a word.

     Baekhyun smiled sadly to himself.  “You’re afraid of what he might think once he gets to know you,” he stated.  It wasn’t a question.  He didn’t intend it to be.  Baekhyun just knew.

     Kyungsoo could feel his eyes burning, the undeniable sting of shame that came just before tears.  But Kyungsoo wouldn’t cry now.  He felt like he was always crying or freaking out and he despised it.  He despised feeling weak when he damn well knew that he wasn’t.

     He didn’t cry.  He continued to stare at his lap, at the already cooling beverage in his hands, took in a shaky breath, and nodded.

     Baekhyun shifted closer.  He took the cup from Kyungsoo again, this time setting it on top of the glass coffee table, before moving his arms around the male in front of him.  He embraced him in a way that Kyungsoo had distinctly come to associate with Baekhyun over the years.  Warm, strong, and entirely comforting.  Motherly, almost.

  “Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun called softly.  “Haven’t I told you before?  You shouldn’t be ashamed about what you’re feeling.  You’re human.  You’re allowed to have emotions just like everyone else.  I know that you’re scared to show them and you think that people will leave you once they know what it’s like in your head, but I’m telling you.  It’s not true.”  Baekhyun tightened his hold, voice wavering slightly as he fought back his own set of tears.

  “I never left, did I?  No.  You wanna know why?  Because you’re ing awesome, kid.”  A tear fell.  “You listen and understand that other people don’t, without even having to ask questions.  You appreciate everything and ask for nothing, and your heart is so big.  I don’t even think it should be possible.”  He combed through Kyungsoo’s hair, gently rubbing where Kyungsoo had pulled on the strands earlier.  “You’re hilarious and clever and the most amazing person I’ve ever had the opportunity to meet.  I’m thankful for you every single day, Kyungsoo.  No matter what you say or feel, I’m not going anywhere.  Ever.  And that’s why you shouldn’t be afraid to show yourself to others.  If they see what I see, they’ll never want to leave you either.”

     He pulled back slightly when he felt Kyungsoo’s shoulders begin to tremble.  There were tears racing down his cheeks, just like they were racing down Baekhyun’s own.  Kyungsoo promised himself he wouldn’t cry, not like this, not in Baekhyun’s arms.  He couldn’t keep burdening him like that.

  “I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo muttered, scrubbing the heels of his palms against his face.

     Baekhyun shook his head.  “I’m not.  Don’t be sorry.”  He grabbed Kyungsoo’s thin wrists gently and pulled them down.  “We’ll cry together.”  He pulled Kyungsoo back into his embrace, not even bothering to wipe the moisture from his skin.

     They stayed there for a moment, Kyungsoo tucked against his best friend’s chest and Baekhyun’s chin propped on top of his head.  His hand resumed the soft movements in Kyungsoo’s hair.  “You need to give people the chance to love you, because living behind closed doors isn’t really living at all.”

     Baekhyun pulled away again after a minute.  He looked at Kyungsoo, really looked at him.  It would have made Kyungsoo uncomfortable if it wasn’t him, but Baekhyun always looked at him like that when he was concerned, when he knew that Kyungsoo was hurting himself from the inside out and there was nothing he could do to stop it.  “I love you, Soo.”

     And just like that, he stood, grabbing the cup from the table as he made his way to the kitchen, likely going to make another pot of coffee for Kyungsoo and maybe a cup of hot chocolate for himself.  He said what he could, which was all he needed to.  Baekhyun knew there was a very fine line between reassuring Kyungsoo and thoroughly overwhelming him, and luckily, he knew the difference.

     Kyungsoo waited until Baekhyun was out of sight to look up.  He stared at where his best friend had just been sitting as he folded his legs against his chest and stomach.  The television was still playing the cheesy movie, and he could hear Baekhyun filling the coffee maker up with water and fresh grounds.  It wasn’t enough noise to cloud his jumbled thoughts.

     He wanted Baekhyun to be right.  He was right, in a way.  He hadn’t left Kyungsoo.  But that’s not to say that others wouldn’t.  Kyungsoo had only ever let two people in besides Baekhyun.  One was Chanyeol.  Chanyeol was special, and he seemed to understand without actually understanding, much like Baekhyun.  Like a young child that would say he got it because he loved his mother and wanted to make her feel better, but he just couldn't put it together for himself.  Chanyeol wanted him to feel better because he loved him, but that didn’t mean that he really understood him.  And the other, the other had left him broken, completely devastated, and Kyungsoo was still picking up the pieces years later.

     He wanted to think that Jongin wouldn’t hurt him if he found out who Kyungsoo really was, but that was too hopeful.  Still, he thought about Baekhyun’s words.  Kyungsoo wasn’t really living.  That was true, and Jongin wasn’t so bad.  In fact, Kyungsoo would be lying if he said he didn’t really like Jongin.  He was hard working and kind and genuine and god, he was so beautiful.  Kyungsoo just didn’t belong in that equation.

     He wasn’t living though, and maybe that’s why Kyungsoo took his cell phone off of the table in front of him.  He swiped at the last of his tears at the same time he swiped the lock screen.  With shaky fingers, he opened his contact list, running through the few names until he came across Jongin’s.  He typed out a quick message.  There was a moment, before Kyungsoo hit send that he decided he really didn’t want to.  But this was also for Baekhyun, and Baekhyun meant the world to him.

  To Kim Jongin: I gave it some thought. Still want to be roommates?

     Kyungsoo sighed, his heart pounding like a drum against his chest.  He wanted to believe Baekhyun.  He really wanted to believe him.  The message came less than a moment later.

  From Kim Jongin: Of course! When do you want to move in?

     All he could do now was hope.