Tuesdays and Fridays were sleepover days. Jongin had dance class on those days, and his room was farther than Kyungsoo’s from the campus (only ten extra minutes, Baekhyun liked to remind them), but Kyungsoo hated for Jongin to cross the whole campus so late in the afternoon, all sweaty and uncomfortable and with his duffle bag, so Jongin stayed in Kyungsoo’s room. And logically, that meant Kyungsoo would wait for Jongin to get out of class. So he’d trekked to the super modern (and kind of scary looking) dance building (not too far from the arts and humanities building, thankfully, so Kyungsoo didn’t arrive mouth-breathing). His phone vibrated just as he reached the studio Jongin was in. Well, looked like Kyungsoo was early. He sat down by the door.

bbh (bad here)

so you’re telling me you kissed him at the dorms

practically inside your room

where nobody would see you guys

just in CASE anyone saw us

bbh (bad here)

yeah sure… :)

He swore under his breath. Why’d he bother telling Baekhyun any of his business? But then again, Baekhyun needed to know why he did it. Because obviously the kiss from last night was for Jongin’s sake. Just in case.

bbh (bad here)

i’m sure the next thing you’ll tell me is you his “just in case”

you

bbh (bad here)

no thanks, that’s jongins job

im blocking you

bbh (bad here)

:))))))

Alright, clearly Kyungsoo just needed to ignore Baekhyun, but that was easier said than done. He wished, now, that he had a better selection of best friends; Jongin put him in this predicament, and Baekhyun only ever made things worse. He kept replaying their kisses from the day before, the intensity with which Jongin would look at him. They’d always been touchy but there was something different about the way Jongin looked at and touched him; it was more intimate, more raw. His cheeks felt warm, and he knew they were flushed. He needed a distraction.

Each studio had a narrow window next to the door, which was right behind Kyungsoo, so he turned to look inside. They were still dancing, Professor Jung standing at the front of the room with his arms crossed. Taemin and Yixing, both friends of Jongin, danced their way into view. Kyungsoo was always fascinated by dancers, though he thought Jongin the best dancer of all time. Was he a good judge? Probably not. But there was something about the passion in Jongin’s movements, the precision of his body, the way he extended the line so gracefully. Kyungsoo could hardly ever hope to be so coordinated; he was, after all, the type to walk into very Big and Obvious Things that were Very Much In the Way. There was a lady who looked much older than the rest of them, her movements far less fluid and precise. She had danced her way to the front, then, deciding to take a rest, sat by the mirrors. And then Jongin came into view, in a black tank top, his golden arms glowing. This was…not a good distraction. Now all Kyungsoo could think about was how wonderful it felt to have those very same arms wrapped around him, and those lips on his-

Wait. The ancient lady was putting a hand on Jongin’s arm. Of course. Jongin had taken half a step back, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half smile. That was a half smile of discomfort, and Kyungsoo knew it well; it was the same smile Jongin used whenever he was confronted by a particularly obvious admirer. Professor Jung thankfully intervened, directing the crone to the back of the room, out of Kyungsoo’s sight. Then Kyungsoo realized (rather belatedly) that he probably looked like a whole creep peering at them through the window, so he turned back around. Jongin’s toned, sweaty arms kept popping up in his head, and he remembered vehemently denying any sort of attraction to sweaty guys until Baekhyun had (damn him) very smugly pointed out that Kyungsoo didn’t seem to mind Jongin’s sweat at all.

Luckily, the class was over in another five minutes. Kyungsoo stood up slowly, hissing at the crack of his knees as they voiced their protest. He should probably start exercising. Taemin was one of the first to walk out, Yixing in tow, and Kyungsoo almost waved at them, but both of them didn’t notice him. He wasn’t offended: they were both notorious for having their heads in the clouds. A couple of others walked out, and then the ancient lady, but she stood to one side. Oh no. Was she also waiting for Jongin? Of course she would be. Kyungsoo peeked into the room. Jongin was stuffing a shirt into his bag, nodding his head to whatever Professor Jung was telling him. The glint of the studio lights bounced off Jongin’s sweaty arms, and Kyungsoo gulped. He’d always had a thing for Jongin’s arms. He leaned back. She had a good vantage point, having stood right across from the door. Typical.

Jongin finally walked out, fixing his cap. Kyungsoo held out a water bottle (he always had one for him), laughing when Jongin jumped.

“Not funny, hyung,” Jongin whined, but he took the bottle anyway, chugging half of it instantly. “Thank you,” he purred, leaning down to give Kyungsoo a kiss. So Kyungsoo kissed him back, steadying himself with a hand on Jongin’s chest, even though the tank top was grossly sweaty. His knees still felt like jelly when they kissed, and his heart wanted to give out, but it felt right, proper even, like they were supposed to be doing this, like they were meant to. But that was just Kyungsoo’s infatuation of many years speaking. Jongin pulled away, but gave Kyungsoo another quick peck. Jerk.

“You should be drinking water while you’re in class, not chug it all after,” Kyungsoo said, slapping Jongin’s pec lightly, totally as a reprimand and not because he liked the feeling of Jongin’s muscles under his fingertips. Not at all. Jongin adjusted his cap again, grinning sheepishly.

“What would I do without you, hyung?” Jongin sighed. The lady took a step toward them, bowing her head.

“Jongin-ah, you did very well today,” she said. Her voice was odd, high pitched and stilted. Kyungsoo hated it.

“Oh, uh, thanks Naoko,” Jongin smiled at her. No, don’t smile at her, Jongin, you idiot. Kyungsoo sidle