Jongin didn’t think much when his classmate Sehun invited him over to play videogames one day. Videogames are his forte and he wouldn’t be one to miss a chance to show off his skills. So when the bell rang for dismissal and the students filed out of the school, the two of them nonchalantly packed up and headed towards Sehun’s residence.

Sehun lives on the sixth floor of an expensive looking apartment complex. Not that Jongin thinks much of it; he owned a condo that was probably equally as expensive. When both of them enter the front door of the apartment, Jongin notices the impressively polished wood flooring that seemed to reflect light off of them as he takes off his black Nike high tops. In fact, the whole apartment seemed to be sparkling clean, every item placed orderly, nothing was out of place and Jongin notes that he never thought of Sehun as the cleanly type.

 Sehun doesn’t seem to care about Jongin’s admiration of the floor and pushes past him, using his socks to slide across the room towards the kitchen and straight to the fridge. He asks Jongin if orange juice is okay and Jongin hollers an okay; comfortably settling down on the white leather couch.

It’s probably the twentieth time Jongin has won at Mario kart and he’s slowly getting bored of looking at Sehun’s frustrated expression as he asks to switch Wiimotes with him every second round because “the censor in this Wiimote seems faulty”. Jongin is about to win for the twenty-first time when he hears the click and unlocking of the front door.

Jongin doesn’t think much when Sehun screams at winning his first round of Mario Kart that session because he is too preoccupied staring at the doe eyed boy that had just stepped into the residence; clumsily holding bags of groceries while trying to slip out of his sneakers using his feet.

“Is that your brother?” Jongin whispers to Sehun, eyes never leaving the boy in question.

“Sorta. Actually, no, he’s kinda my umma.”

“Oh, I see. Wait- What?!”

          Jongin doesn’t get an answer because the “umma” suddenly yells at Sehun to help him put away the groceries. Sehun responds by shuffling his socked feet towards the kitchen while whining “But Kyungsoo umma!” cutely probably in an attempt to get out of the task.

           Jongin barely has a moment to note that Kyungsoo is a nice name when said boy suddenly realizes his presence and directs a shy smile towards him. He feels the breath knocked out of him and thinks his heart is probably beating at a thousand miles per hour; it’s hard to breathe and he can’t seem to stop staring at the other. He thinks Kyungsoo might be a fallen angel or something.

            Jongin doesn’t think logic applies at Sehun’s home because Kyungsoo looks like he is about their age and he wonders how someone their age ended up becoming his classmates umma. He swallows and tries to not think too much as he stares at Kyungsoo’s plump pink lips. Jongin has somehow made his way to the kitchen to help put away groceries as Sehun introduces him as a friend from school. Jongin in the meantime tries to give himself a mental self-pep talk.

           Okay, Jongin, breathe in, breathe out. Keep your calm. First of all, be confident. You’re the y icon of the school, remember? Think y. Act calm. Yeah. Wait- this is your friend’s mom for god’s sake, what are you thinking?! Stop it!!

                But for some reason he ends up resting his elbow on the sparkling marble counter top of the kitchen anyways, posing as handsomely as possible while facing Kyungsoo.

                “Hey.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes are wide as saucers in confusion and he frowns a little because Jongin is suddenly blocking his path to put the carton of milk in the fridge. The fact that he had been cut-off mid-sentence while trying to ask if Sehun was fine with spaghetti for dinner wasn't too pleasing either.

                “What’s your opinion on dating high schoolers?”  Jongin casually points to himself, making sure to flex his biceps.

Jongin thinks it cute when Kyungsoo’s eyes seem to threaten to pop out of his eye sockets at hearing his question. The way his mouth opened into a tiny ‘o’ shape made it oh so tempting for Jongin to dive his tongue in right there and kiss the boy senseless.

                “E-e-excuse me?” Is all the “umma” is able to stutter in response.

 There’s a noticeable blush creeping up the shorter boy’s face and Jongin wonders whether it’s from embarrassment or possible affection. Or maybe both. He sure hopes it was both because the thought of it was squeamishly adorable.

Sehun is just weirded out because his friend seems to be hitting on his mom.