Releasing a broken sob, Minseok shoveled yet another scoop of cookie dough ice cream into his already frozen mouth.  He knew he didn’t need the calories and that his mother would scold him in the morning, but, damn it, he was heartbroken and eating away his emotions was something he’d always done.  Maybe “heartbroken” wasn’t the right term; Minseok, after all, wasn’t in a relationship, so, theoretically, his heart couldn’t possibly have been broken.  No, a better phrase would be “lovesick”, as that’s what he was.  

Sick of love, that is.

For the past three years of his high school career, Kim Minseok had been - surreptitiously, he liked to think - head-over-heels for one Kim Jongdae, who just so happened to be his best friend.  (He knew Luhan would protest, saying he had known his Baozi longer, therefore making him more deserving of the title, but he was always ignored when this topic was brought up, causing him to pout dramatically and bury his head into - a very willing - Sehun’s chest.)  It had been the cliche “love at first sight” scenario. Minseok, being the oblivious freshman transfer student he was at the time, had managed to get himself lost within the large building.  Unsure of where he was and on the verge of tears, he rushed to the first classroom he could find.  
           

He hesitated, however, handle half-turned when he heard the angelic notes escaping from the newly formed crack between the door and the frame.  Overwhelmed - and rather intrigued - by the voice, he chanced opening the door just another inch and snuck a peek inside.
           

His reaction was both comical and instantaneous.
          

 Minseok’s jaw had dropped causing his mouth to hang open the slightest bit.  A soft pink flush crept up his neck, lightly dusting his round cheeks.  In the center of the choir room stood - in Minseok’s opinion - the most handsome boy he’d ever seen. His hair, while fairly short, was styled perfectly to frame his striking face.  His eyes were closed securely - in a mix of concentration and passion, his mind helpfully supplied.  This boy was very obviously the source of the beautiful voice, his mouth hanging open for a rather different reason than Minseok.  His flush could only deepen as his eyes followed the lines of this mystery boy’s body.
           

Minseok was snapped back to reality by the cheering that erupted from the audience residing in the room.  Focusing his eyes again, he realized that the boy had finished his performance and was simply beaming at the group gathered in front of him.

Becoming enraptured by the sheer brightness of his smile, Minseok failed to notice said boy making his way towards the door.  His only real chance to panic was a mere two seconds before the same smile, albeit a bit dimmer, was aimed at the shorter boy himself.  

From seeing him up close, Minseok could tell that attractive-guy - or so he had dubbed him in his head - was probably a year or two younger than himself.  He also knew that the friendly grin being shot at him was doing weird things to his pulse rate.

“Do you need help with something?”

Just hearing his speaking voice was enough to bring butterflies to his stomach.

It took a few moments of gaping for Minseok to finally find his own voice.

“I-I’m lost...” he trailed off, almost wincing at the lameness of his own statement.  He broke eye contact, feeling too self-conscious to continue to meet the gaze of the angelic boy standing before him.

The resounding chuckle caused his cheeks to flare up once more.

“Are you the new student?”  He merely nodded in response, no longer trusting himself to form coherent sentences.  “I’m Kim Jongdae.”

The boy - Kim Jongdae he gleefully corrected - bowed slightly before staring expectantly at the rather pink boy in front of him.

“Uh... Kim Minseok.  I’m a freshman.” He quickly returned the bow, nearly managing to knock into his new acquaintance.

Yet another dazzling smile was thrown his way.  “Great, me too.  Would you like some help finding your class?”

Once again weary of his ability to speak, Minseok nodded, yelping when he was immediately dragged out of the room by his wrist.  Jongdae sent him an apologetic look over his shoulder before coming to a halt and requesting the older boy’s schedule.

In less than three minutes they’ve made it to his second class of the day with time to spare – he had arrived late and stumbled about the school throughout the remainder of his first period.

They part ways after a staring contest of sorts and a promise to meet later for lunch. Minseok feels infinitely lighter for the rest of the day.

And so their friendship began.  For nearly four years they were joined at the hip, friendship – and something else in the elder’s case – blooming easily after their first meeting.  By their junior year, Minseok knew he was depressingly head-over-heels for Jongdae and at the beginning of their final year he was almost ready to do something about it.

Almost.

Minseok finishes off the pint, grimacing at the fact and the tears still falling freely.  Sighing, he stands up from bed, padding as silently as he can to the kitchen where he throws the container away and tosses the spoon in the previously empty sink.  As he passes by the bathroom, he almost flinches at the state he’s in; hair disheveled, face blotchy and wet with reddened eyes.  He picks up his pace, slinking back into bed, ready for a fitful slumber to overtake him once again.