word count: 2,070~

[ music: i giorni (the day) by ludovico einaudi ]

Serendipity (n.) – finding something good without looking for it

-

Sehun knows better than to fall in love. He knows that in falling in love, caring and emotions—something he himself has never regarded as important—are needed to be present. He also knows that along with love, follows the lack of freedom, the countless fights, and the eventual separation. Which is why, when Sehun decides to join a ballet workshop, he doesn’t expect to find and meet the epitome of perfection that is Kim Jongin.

-

They first meet at the age of fifteen, by accident, even. They’ve both hurried down the halls—opposite from each other—and towards a small white door. They reached for the handle, causing each other to look up. Sehun pauses, assuming that the tanned boy facing him is just as late as he is and hurriedly pushes the door open. They enter at the same time, both slightly panting, as the tanner boy speaks.

“Sorry I’m late.” He bows ninety degrees at their teacher and Sehun does the same.

This, of course, doesn’t let them off the hook and as punishment for being a good fifteen minutes late, their teacher, Hyukjae, had made them stay an extra hour for practicing on their pirouettes, arabesques, aplomb.

There was an awkward silence as the class was dismissed, leaving the two to practice on their own. Neither of them spoke, and decided, instead, to stay at opposite corners of the room. It was not until a faded shriek was let out by Sehun as he came into contact with the floor that Jongin had paused, turned around, and quickly rushed to help the paled boy whose knee had been bruised and lightly grazed.

“Are you okay?” Jongin asks, as Sehun nods lightly. Jongin sees the pained expression and hurriedly grabs a medical kit by the cupboards at the corner of the room. He begins to aid Sehun, who winces at the contact of the disinfector with his now bleeding skin.

“I guess my pirouette and aplomb wasn’t as stable as I thought it would be.” Sehun bitterly states, chuckling lightly.

“You should be careful, you know. Hyukjae might get mad again and we wouldn’t want that happening.” Jongin states, as they face and meet eyes.

“I’m Kim Jongin, by the way.” He adds, a hand extended.

“I’m Oh Sehun.” The latter responds, shaking Jongin’s hand.

Their friendship starts from there, slowly building a pathway into the unknown. It was quite a unique friendship, most would say, because Jongin and Sehun were opposite poles that had found their way to each other from one end to another. Jongin was lively, and showed various emotions and expressed himself in ways Sehun didn’t know even existed. He was a child prodigy. He danced with grace and eloquence unlike any other. He was a role model, someone people had always looked up to—someone with great worth ethics, someone who does his best in everything he can do. He was a perfectionist. He was a leader. He was everything Sehun was not. Sehun was timid, rather softspoken, and had trouble showing feelings, hiding everything in his cold façade as he goes by with his day.

And Sehun knew he wasn’t someone who could match up to Jongin. Because while Jongin is the spring—the source that emits radiance and purity—Sehun was the flowing river, which simply cannot rise any higher than its source.

-

Sehun doesn’t know when it happened, but it happened. He’s fallen, deep. And he doesn’t know any other way to get out of the addiction in which he calls, Kim Jongin. Maybe it happened in the little fights and deep talks they’ve had in between their lengthy years of friendship, he thinks, or possibly it happened due to their being inseparable. Jongin was with Sehun almost all the time, and almost never left his side. It’s not really that Jongin is a pest, because Sehun had never really minded his constant presence and instead, had found comfort in it.

Even in the late hours of the night to the early, ungodly hours of the morning, Jongin would stay with Sehun, who constantly practices, and offers even to help out with precision and balance. Sehun, often, would just plop down on the floor in response, panting heavily, eyelids nearly drooping due to the immense fatigue as Jongin stands up to demonstrate the moves Sehun had never really gotten to perfect. Sehun nearly closes his eyes, but fights the urge to because it is Jongin and everything about him that make Sehun’s stomach churn in words he could not express.

The way Jongin dances, Sehun knows, is beautifully compelling. He dances differently, uniquely. And in a dancing crowd, Jongin had always stand out like a skyscraper in an open field. They step, and hop, and frolic on points, but Jongin—Jongin glides. He dances like he was floating, like he was on skates and on ice. It’s mortifying that someone could actually dance this beautiful, Sehun thinks, as he sees how perfect the angles Jongin’s arms form in arabesques. And how his balance is perfected beyond perfection. And how his movements are smooth and fluid, framed with the subtle sharp flicks of his arms and feet, forming the perfect picture anyone would paint.

Sehun is often set in a pleasurable daze. Watching Jongin dance is truly hypnotizing and always leaves Sehun breathless. It’s something Sehun could never get enough of. He wakes, always, from the compulsion as Jongin routinely flicks his forehead, pulling the paled boy up for a dance and wraps his burly and sculpted, tan arms around Sehun, positioning their hands and legs in order to help the paled boy  perfect the arabesque and balance. And Sehun wonders, at times, if what they had would evolve to being something more than just friendship and often finds himself hoping that there was something more to the warmth in Jongin's touch.

-

“You know, we’re always together.” Jongin tells Sehun one day, as they walk down the streets, side by side.

“Of course,” Sehun scoffs, “we’re best friends, what do you expect, Jongin. Best friends are supposed to be together. That’s why they’re called best friends, stupid.”

Jongin smiles, eyes crinkling into crescents, “We’ll be together forever.” He says, lacing his fingers with Sehun’s. And Sehun thinks that this smile is much different than the rest. His eyes sparkled, causing shades of pink to creep up the pale boy’s face.

Sehun is convinced that an eternity with Jongin and only Jongin would be something he’d look forward to. 

-

It’s a Tuesday afternoon that Sehun faces a near-death experience thanks to Jongin. His heart abruptly stops beating, as Jongin tells him a phrase, which weighed much more than its length, before rapidly beating once more—nearing the brink of cardiac arrest due to the immense palpitation.

“You know I love you, right?” Jongin tells him and Sehun nearly chokes on water, looking at the latter with furrowing brows, heart nearly stopping.

“Because we’re best friends, I mean. So yeah.” Jongin adds, and it comes out a bit off as he shyly scratches the back of his neck.

“Anyways, let’s go back to practice. Recital is in a few days and I still have to help you fix your awkward chasse.” Jongin jokes, earning a light punch and a you from Sehun.

They begin practice once more as the music begins to play and Sehun feels his heart finally beating normally and he doesn’t know why he’s disappointed with what he’s heard. He wonders if there’ll ever be a time Jongin will love him more than just friends.

-

It’s a Saturday night and Sehun is jittery. The palms of his hands are beyond sweaty as he walks back and forth in his dressing room. Jongin enters, momentarily, as Sehun stares at him, eyes watering.

“I’m nervous, Jongin.” He says, as Jongin pulls him into a tight hug.

“You’ll do great, Sehun, trust me.” Jongin smiles. “Just don’t mind the audience and think of the time we’ve practiced in the dance studio. Think that it’s just us. You. Me. And the flow of the music.” He encourages, as their teacher calls them and the rest of the ballerinas on standby near the stage.

He closes his eyes and breathes deeply as the music begins to play. Jongin glances at him, smiling, before entering the stage first.

Their performance starts with Jongin’s solo, as the rest of the class enter the stage and match the choreography Jongin does, one by one they fill in the stage until it is Sehun’s  group to enter. He’s nervous, but the looking Jongin gives him right before going into a triple pirouette followed by an arabesque tells him that everything will be all right.

The performance ends in perfection as the audience gives a standing ovation and Jongin, behind the ballerinas, which stood on stage, holds onto Sehun’s hand, as they all gave a proper bow.

“Jongin! Sehun!” Luhan appears, waving at both of them, “You were both amazing!” He says, as Lay, Kris, and the others approach them as well.

“So, who’s up for an afterparty at my place?” Kris suggests, eyebrows raised, as everyone agrees.

“We’ll catch up,” Sehun says, as he and Jongin head towards the dressing room to change.

Leaving the back exit and heading towards the street, Jongin and Sehun walk towards Kris’s home, which is a good ten to fifteen minute walk from the auditorium. It’s slightly raining harder and harder and Sehun complains about his new shirt getting wet as Jongin chuckles, pulling out a small umbrella for them to share.

“Hey, Jongin,” Sehun begins, as the latter faces towards him. “I wonder if in the future, things would still be like this. You. Me. And the stage to conquer.”

“You dummy,” Jongin says, “It’ll always be like this. We’re best friends, we’ll always be together.”

“I hope so,” Sehun mutters, giving off a mildly bitter smile, as Jongin pauses abruptly.

“Hey,” Jongin tells Sehun, “if we’re meant to be together, then we’ll be together, alright?”

And Sehun feels his heart beat faster. He doesn’t know when this will all last. He doesn’t know if he and Jongin really are meant to be together, and that’s what fears him the most. He just knows he wants Jongin, all of Jongin, and only Jongin. He couldn’t ask for any other. He’s fallen too deep and he can’t get out. Biting his lips, he warily reaches for Jongin’s hand, pulling him into an abrupt halt, and the look Jongin sports is misty and unreadable but Sehun doesn’t care. He thinks it’s needed that Jongin knows before it’s too late, and before everything fades away and is long forgotten.

It all happens in a matter of seconds and the sound of splashing water and clanking of an umbrella echoes throughout the busy metropolis as they stand in the rain, lips locked, and eyes closed.

Sehun pulls away, cheeks pink. “I love you, Jongin. I don’t care if you don’t love me back, I just. I don’t know. I’m just so scared of losing you. I just needed to tell you that. Before anything happens. Before anything is forgotten.”

As the latter chuckles, a finger drawing circles on the pale porcelain skin, “I told you a thousand times. If we’re meant to be together, then we’ll be together. And we are. I love you, Sehun. More than you could ever imagine.”

They share another kiss. All their feelings and unspoken words, channeled through the passionate touch of their skin and lips. Sehun laces his fingers through Jongin’s hair as the latter tugs at his waist, pulling him closer. They don’t care that it’s raining hard. They don’t care that they’re soaking wet. They don’t care that they’re probably going to get scolded later by their brothers for possibly contracting a cold.

They smile, eyes crinkling as they walk down the streets, fingers lovingly intertwined.

Sehun knows it’s been five years of friendship and more to come. He looks forward to the eternity of his life he will spend with Jongin, and to the adventures they take together step by step. He looks forward to discovering new things he never thought of, in ways he never dreamed of, possibly similar to how he had first found Jongin at the time he never really expected to: in serendipity.