Seungho was ok with babysitting the Bang family's son for some relatively easy cash. His parents had been looking for a new nice and trusting teenager to take the job after the previous regular babysitter took off to college. Sure Cheolyong was a handful - and Seungho wasn't particularly fond of the kid - but it was a technically simple job only a few stairs away from his apartment. Also, his employers were nice enough to leave him free to do pretty much whatever he wanted to at the job, as long as he ensured Cheolyong ate healthy, was in bed on time and didn't burn down the entire building in their absence. The latter was the hardest task - not shockingly, if you knew Cheolyong, who'd actually managed to set the microwave to flames once.

 

On the first days, granted, it had been harder than Seungho had previously expected. He'd seen Cheolyong around the building, and he sometimes was in Seungho's apartment with either of his parents, since their families were relatively close (as close as everyone else on the building was, Seungho supposed), but he'd barely ever talked to the kid. So he had no idea of how much of a brat Cheolyong could be without any affirmative authority he would effectively respond to. Seungho, back then a fifteen-year-old, was taken aback by the careless greet the boy gave him and his disregard for Seungho's commands.

 

"Look, Seungho," Cheolyong said in an informal speech that made Seungho gawk at him, picking up the remote control of his console, when Seungho remembered his mother strictly telling him Cheolyong was grounded and shouldn't ever go near the videogames CD cases, "let's call a deal. I do whatever I want, you do whatever you want, and we'll both tell my parents you made sure I behaved well, just like the previous guy. How does that sound?" the twelve-year-old grinned at him.

 

After Seungho recovered from witnessing such doubtful morals and lack of manners, he closed his mouth, took an exasperated breath and walked over, tugging the control away from his hands. Cheolyong growled and tried to fetch the device back, but was quickly shoved back to the floor as Seungho held the control away from his reach and turned the TV off.

 

"Your mother says you have homework to take care of," he said, folding his arms and towering the scrawny short boy.

 

"What does it matter to you if I do?" Cheolyong retorted in a petulant, loud tone that made the pulse of Seungho's veins quicken. He had a younger brother just about Cheolyong's age - a boy who, at this time, was busy with his English and piano classes, just like Seungho himself used to be back at his age - and the kid had never even attempted a similar tone on him. If Cheolyong was used to raise his tone against elders just because his parents weren't present, well, that habit would certainly have to die around Seungho.

 

"It matters that I actually do what was hired for and can look at your parents in the eye when they pay me," he said firmly, foot already nudging Cheolyong's legs a little too harshly. "Why aren't you in your bedroom yet?"

 

The boy glared at him. "Why should I?"

 

"Because," Seungho smiled grimly and ran his fingers over a shelf displaying an expensive-looking collection of china, glancing back at the boy and gladly realizing the look on his face had gone from daring to terrified, "an accident might happen, and your parents will know how you broke one of their porcelain vases for being too reckless."

 

Cheolyong gulped, looking back and forth between the items and Seungho. "I'll just say you're lying, then," he raised an eyebrow in an attempt to look undisturbed, but his voice was a little raspy all of a sudden.

 

"Oh, but this wouldn't have been the first time, would it, Cheolyong ah?" Seungho's smile grew wider because now Cheolyong was looking at him like a dongsaeng should look at his hyung – with respect and a good deal of fear. "I remember just how furious your mother was when you did it months ago. And it would be your word against mine."

 

Cheolyong was silent for a long moment, eyes locked defiantly with Seungho’s, trying to detect any signs of bluffing from the other boy. Once he realized Seungho really was willing to keep his words, he looked away and got up in defeat. "Fine," Cheolyong breathed out, rolling his eyes out of sheer irritation. "I'll go to my stupid bedroom and do my stupid homework."

 

He fumed and marched out of the living room with heavy, annoyed steps and a long groan that was followed by mutterings of how he missed his previous babysitter already.

 

"Oh, and Cheolyong ah?" Seungho called out before the boy was out of sight. The boy stopped on his tracks but didn’t bother turning around to face him, waiting for whatever the older boy had to say, sighing loudly to express his impatience. "That's Seungho hyung, for you."

 

Cheolyong groaned again, making Seungho chuckle a little to himself and then carry on with his own homework for the night.

 

Things between them were sort of bumpy for two months as Cheolyong was full of pointless pride for someone so hopelessly young and still held a fairly understandable grudge against Seungho for the threat he’d made on his first night of the job. That changed, however, when Cheolyong accidentally knocked two glasses off the table with an unfortunate arm gesture while the two of them ate the pizza Seungho had ordered for dinner.

 

Cheolyong’s face was livid as he stared at the shattered glass on the floor, Seungho already grabbing a broom to sweep the pieces away.

 

“I’m already grounded,” the boy breathed out while Seungho covered the bigger pieces in paper so they wouldn’t rip the garbage bag. “My mom will kill me for this.”

 

Seungho raised his eyes to give him a glance, feeling a little bad for the kid when he saw just how desperate he was. He knew there would be a big baseball match on the weekend and his parents had agreed to let him go with his friends if he behaved for the whole week, which he had managed to pull off with great dexterity, in fact, even being extra polite to Seungho in spite of his obvious dislike for the older boy. Just give Cheolyong a desirable goal and he’ll even go out of his way to achieve it, Seungho had been thinking with amusement throughout his most peaceful work week.

 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Bang,” much to Cheolyong’s surprise, Seungho had said with a bow when the boy’s parents’ arrived later that night. He saw the kid’s shoulders, which had been tensed the entire time, drop as he fixed him with a wide-eyed stare. “While Cheolyong and I were having dinner I accidentally let the glasses I was holding slip from my grip and broke them. I can pay for them, though.”

 

Cheolyong’s parents blinked, his father turning around to give Cheolyong a suspicious glance.

 

“You didn’t break the glasses and ask Seungho to take the blame for it, did you, Cheolyong?” he asked in a tired tone, proving that he knew entirely too well the son he had. The boy widened his eyes, momentarily out of words since he was still surprised by Seungho’s admission of guilt.

 

“No, Mr. Bang,” the babysitter hurried to say before the man would take assumptions from Cheolyong’s silence. “I can assure you that, if Cheolyong had done it, I wouldn’t take the blame in his place. It really was me, and I’m willing to compensate the harm I caused.”

 

“Oh,” Cheolyong’s mother breathed out with a chuckle, waving a hand dismissively at Seungho. “We’re not charging you for a pair of glasses, sweetheart. It’s an honest mistake, those things happen.”

 

Seungho shook his head respectfully.

 

“No, ma’am, if I broke them–”

 

“If you broke them we have to thank good heavens for sending us a babysitter who actually went two entire months breaking just some old glasses,” Mr. Bang said with a small laugh, patting Seungho’s shoulder. “Now go have some sleep, we’d hate to upset your parents by messing up your sleeping schedule. You have an early day tomorrow.”

 

Before Seungho left the apartment that night, Cheolyong rushed to the door and eyed him awkwardly for a second, shifting his weight from a foot to another until he finally got out what he’d come to say.

 

“Thank you, hyung.”

 

Seungho chuckled, said he was a good kid and ruffled his hair – Cheolyong hated it when people did that, especially if they, like Seungho, were taller than him. However, he never baited Seungho’s hand away like he normally would.

 

“Have fun at the game tomorrow, ok?” he said and walked out the door.

 

After that, their relationship began looking up. Cheolyong no longer saw Seungho as the enemy – or whatever sort of thoughts he harbored towards his babysitter – and, since his behavior changed from bratty to agreeable, Seungho figured he could deal better with this renewed Cheolyong. They started talking more; Seungho wouldn’t just send the boy to his bedroom so often (only when he had accumulated homework) and would even bring his brother whenever he was free to play with Cheolyong for the night.

 

Seungho began discovering Cheolyong’s interests (Japanese comic books, girls, videogames, some sports, finding out about free pictures of girls on the internet – Seungho had refrained from chuckling at how young and cute Cheolyong was) and heard about his school and friends, even beginning to assimilate a few more common names, like Dongwoon, who’d slept over there one day and thus he had met, confirming the kid to be a dozen times easier to handle than Cheolyong. There were also Kibum, Jinwoon and Woohyun, kids Cheolyong always mentioned but were still pretty much faceless to him.

 

He asked Cheolyong’s parents if it’d be ok to bring a friend to their house to do some school work since he didn’t have many available hours, and they were ok with the idea. So, occasionally, his friend Byunghee (the only one who Seungho trusted not to thrash the apartment if kindly asked not to) would show up and keep Cheolyong entertained, which agreed just fine with Seungho, who could use a helping hand once in a while. Byunghee liked the boy easily, mostly because Byunghee liked anyone who could both take a joke good-heartedly and make him laugh, and if anyone could do those, that would be Cheolyong.

 

They grew attached like that, getting to know each other’s acquaintances and routines, plus Seungho had a lot of patience to listen to Cheolyong’s ramblings and even give him some advice (he was the hyung, after all). Before he could realize it, Cheolyong became fairly dependent on Seungho in a lack of another brotherly figure to rely on. Seungho wasn’t bothered by it and just let the boy be, since having people leaning on his back was what he’d done pretty much his entire life.

 

Two weeks after his thirteenth birthday, to which Seungho had gotten him a set of comic books he’d talked about for a whole month, Cheolyong was sitting on the living room couch, keeping his promise of being quiet and letting Seungho study since he had a test coming up and people from high school always had such difficult-sounding tests. He was silent, not even breathing, but his unmoving gaze on Seungho was enough to make the other one drop the pen onto his book and return the look impatiently.

 

“Haven’t I told you not to stare at me like that for no reason?” he asked with a sigh, and Cheolyong immediately brightened up at learning he’d gotten his attention.

 

“But it’s not for no reason, I want to talk to you.”

 

“Cheolyong, I’m busy,” Seungho gestured to the pile of books on the table. “Look, Seunghoon will be home in less than half an hour, so we can just go to my place and you can play with him, if you’re bored.”

 

Cheolyong shook his head vehemently, shifting on the couch so he’d be closer to the table by which Seungho sat, leaning onto the arm rest.

 

“No, hyung, I don’t want to play with anyone,” he paused and waited until Seungho looked at him. “I have to ask you something. But you have to be serious about it.”

 

“Shoot it,” Seungho shrugged, closing the books before him not without marking the pages he was on first.

 

Cheolyong glanced down, smacking his lips a little nervously. Taking a look at how eager he seemed, Seungho frowned, for the first time considering the possibility of it being anything important.

 

“Um, you’re in high school, right?” Cheolyong asked quietly. “I mean, you’re older.”

 

“What is this about?” Seungho squinted, suspecting this was just a joke about how old Seungho was.

 

“You have… dated before, I suppose?” the younger boy lowered his voice as though their conversation topic was confidential. Seungho was only more confused by the progression of questions, but nodded. He’d told Cheolyong at some point that he’d been in two relatively quick relationships in the past. “So you know when you like a girl and she likes you back, right?”

 

Finally Seungho saw where this was going. He did his best not to crack a smile at Cheolyong because he wouldn’t want to embarrass the boy – well, for now. He knew what it was like to be young and in love for the first time (assuming this was the case, that is), so he wouldn’t spoil this conversation for Cheolyong, since he didn’t have many older boys to talk to.

 

“I may know one thing or other, yeah,” he rested an arm on the table, leaning forward with interest now. “Why do you ask?”

 

The other boy was silent for a moment, fingers digging into the fabric of the couch’s armrest. He seemed to contemplate whether to tell Seungho or not, but that inner battle was a finished one since he’d already brought up the issue.

 

“There’s a girl in my classroom, and she sort of told Kibum she likes me,” he trailed off, fighting the warm sensation on his cheeks and the way his lips curved up on their own. “Of course she knew Kibum would tell me, right? Everyone knows he’s my friend.”

 

He saw Seungho nod, listening attentively, which made him hesitate for a bit.

 

“Anyway, my friends are going to watch a movie this Friday and they invited her and her friends along…” he eyed the older boy, who now was grinning knowingly at him.

 

“This is going to be your first kiss, isn’t it?” Seungho asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Don’t say I’m late,” Cheolyong snapped bitterly. “Dongwoon only lies about having kissed before-”

 

Seungho laughed a little and shook his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that. It’s nice that you’ll get yourself a girlfriend, and I’m sure you’ll be far ahead than most of your friends either way.”

 

Cheolyong looked at him coyly before ing his face into the armrest, giggling anxiously into it for a few seconds. Watching him with a smile of his own, Seungho couldn’t help but think the boy was precious. Cheolyong was really adorable when he wasn’t busy making hell of someone’s life.

 

“I just thought you could, you know,” he lifted his head again, yet still not meeting Seungho’s eyes. “Say what I’m supposed to do.”

 

Ah, cutie Cheolyong was asking for advice on kissing? Seungho stifled a chuckle so the boy wouldn’t feel awkward.

 

“Brush your teeth well and try not to eat anything in the movie theater,” he shrugged with a snicker.

 

“What? Come on, hyung, help me,” Cheolyong squealed, making Seungho’s smile widen at the adorable way he writhed on the couch.

 

“I am helping you, this is the most valuable tip anyone can give you,” the older one said, puckering his lips a little. He knew Cheolyong expected this to be a long make-out session and therefore was freaking out about not being able to do it right, but, considering the fact they were both barely in their teen years, Seungho doubted the kiss would last more than five seconds, or that there’d be any tongue involved. “Listen, I know you’re nervous, but so is she, probably. It might even be a good thing that you don’t know how to kiss, because then she won’t feel like she’s in disadvantage next to you – if she did, she could even change her mind about the whole thing.”

 

Cheolyong tipped his head to one side thoughtfully, then aiming an appreciating look at Seungho.

 

“I didn’t really think about it that way. I was so nervous myself I never even thought about how she felt.”

 

“That is the most common mistake men do in relationships,” Seungho chuckled a little. “You’re already better than most just for realizing that.”

 

Smirking smugly to himself, Cheolyong turned around to lie back at the couch.

 

“So, brush teeth, eat nothing at the theater?” he asked out loud as he stared at the ceiling.

 

“If your hand’s not sweaty, hold hers afterwards,” Seungho offered after a long contemplative hum. “Girls like holding hands.”

 

Cheolyong bent back so he looked upwards down at the babysitter, face contorted in a frown. “How do I do that?”

 

“Well, you put your hand over hers-”

 

“No,” the boy waved a hand impatiently, turning around to properly sit on the couch. “How do I do that?” he asked again, gesturing widely to put extra emphasis on his desire to know the exact timing and procedure method.

 

Seungho stumbled over until he was sitting next to Cheolyong, letting out a sigh.

 

“I’m you, you’re her,” he explained, and leaned a little onto Cheolyong’s frail shoulder, dismissing the way the boy squirmed away slightly with suddenly wide open eyes at their proximity. “You just kissed her,” he went on as he leaned back and put his eyes on the TV across them, as though it were the movie screen. “So you just casually let your hand fall on top of hers, like this,” and he acted as he narrated, his hand resting atop the younger boy’s smaller one, the warmth feeling a little welcoming and soothing to Cheolyong. “And you intertwine your fingers.”

 

Cheolyong stared at their linked hands and fingers, feeling the heat go back to his face once again for some reason.

 

“You probably shouldn’t do that,” Seungho removed his hand along with that warm sensation it had created and stood up again, walking back to the chair by the table. “You do have sweaty hands,” he laughed as he dried the hand he used to hold Cheolyong’s on his pants with a playful wince.

 

“Hey, don’t make fun of me,” Cheolyong protested, and both of them missed the way his voice sounded a little weaker.

 

On the Monday after the fatidic weekend, Seungho walked into the Bang apartment only to find Cheolyong glued to his cellphone, walking back to the couch after closing the door for him and grinning quite idiotically as he typed something in the device.

 

“So, how did everything go?” he asked with a smirk as he disposed his bag on the living room table.

 

“I have a girlfriend,” Cheolyong declared in a proud, a little cocky voice. “Did you have a girlfriend at my age?”

 

Seungho laughed. Cheolyong had a bit of a complex against him, since his parents were always telling him to look up to impeccable Seungho and his spotless marks at school, career as the consecutively reelected class president and head of three differently specialized after-class groups. Seungho was particularly very uncomfortable listening to the boy’s parents praise him that excessively, implying Cheolyong didn’t make them as proud as the Yang brothers made their own parents, yet he knew Cheolyong thought he enjoyed it, always trying to find flaws in Seungho and making as many remarks as he could about the ones he did find. The older one, more often than not, simply let him do as he pleased, unable to bring himself to care.

 

“No,” he replied with a chuckle. “I guess I was too busy running the student body in my school to date, so you definitely won this one, Casanova. Congratulations.”

 

Cheolyong narrowed his eyes at him, wondering how Seungho always made his defeats come across as victories.