Jongin doesn’t talk to Kyungsoo at all the next day—in fact, he doesn’t even appear at the bookstore. Kyungsoo waits until work is over with no sign of Jongin at all, then gives up, not sure whether to be frustrated or if he’s overthinking. Jongin could have fallen sick. Or he might have gone out of town. But Kyungsoo can’t help wondering if it’s because Jongin didn’t mean what he had said the night before, if he’s avoiding Kyungsoo for a reason.

He sets off to find the younger, determined to figure it out, when he realizes he doesn’t know where Jongin lives. After a moment of hesitation, he decides to look around the street to see if he can find someone who knows Jongin. After all, Jongin can’t live too far away, can he?

An hour passes, and Kyungsoo doesn’t see any sign of the younger boy. He doesn’t have Jongin’s phone number or address or anything, to be quite honest. It’s like they’re back at square one, hiding away from each other, unable to read an expression in the other’s eyes.

He’s about to give up when he notices a figure walking by the bookstore, with the familiar set of headphones resting around his neck, pacing back and forth with a nervous expression on his face as he swings a keychain around his fingers.

“Jongin-ah!” Kyungsoo calls, hurrying over to the boy, “Where have you been? I’ve been searching for you all day long.”

“Hyung.” Jongin smiles up at him, but his eyes don’t follow, and Kyungsoo has the sudden realization that there’s something not quite right. “Sorry. Can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure?” Kyungsoo is hesitant now, mind running with a million questions because there’s something wrong, this isn’t right at all. “What is it?”

They enter the bookshop and sit down across from each other at a small table, surrounded by stacks of books lying about (Kyungsoo groans inwardly because he forgot to shelve them—he’ll have to do that tomorrow morning). Jongin leans back, sitting directly in a patch of sunlight streaming in from a window, and Kyungsoo is once again reminded of fairy tales and fantasy spells, of angels and fiery halos dancing across the edges of Jongin’s hair, lighting up his bangs as he tilts his head.

“Hyung, have you ever been scared? Not of something frightening, but something unknown?”

“What scares us is the unknown, because it’s frightening,” Kyungsoo responds, taking one of the books at the side and flipping it over, studying the cover intently as his stomach flips in apprehension. “What is it?”

When Jongin speaks again, his voice is a mere whisper, hushed in the quiet bookstore. “Hyung, I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Kyungsoo looks up from the book and into Jongin’s eyes. He’s got beautiful eyes, Kyungsoo thinks, wide and wise, but difficult to discern meaning from.

“Of us. Of what we can be. I’m afraid, because I feel like I forced everything onto you yesterday, and hyung…I should have told you that so soon.” Jongin looks away from Kyungsoo’s gaze and down at his hands instead, tapping them gently on the table, studying the way the sunlight glances off of his fingers.

“You didn’t. You didn’t force anything. I’ve liked you for some time, Jongin-ah.”

“Yeah?”

“I have.”

The ghost of a grin flits across Jongin’s expression and he looks up at Kyungsoo again, less fear in his expression, more hope lighting up like a spark in his eyes. “What should we call ourselves then?”

“We’re in a relationship,” Kyungsoo risks saying, because he’s not quite sure if it’s okay to say, but he doesn’t have any other answer. “A romantic one—” He cuts himself off and laughs lightly, shaking his head as a thought strikes him. “That’s funny actually. I read too many fantasy novels. I keep on picturing myself off on a romantic adventure and falling in love with a prince—sorry.”

“Relationship,” Jongin mumbles, as if testing out the word and how it feels to say it. “We’re in a relationship. He smiles, a real smile this time, eyes creasing up in crescents, mouth spread out in a grin of mirth. “You’re my boyfriend, hyung. Boyfriend.”

A sort of warm feeling spreads throughout Kyungsoo and he wants to giggle like a five year old girl, but he restrains himself from that and merely asks, “What do you want to do now?”

“Let’s go out for coffee or something,” Jongin suggests, and Kyungsoo has the urge to laugh yet again, because Jongin’s cute when he’s nervous, ears turning slightly pink as he hides his face bashfully behind his book.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Kyungsoo says, and after a moment’s hesitation he reaches out and takes Jongin’s hand into his. Jongin’s smile becomes even wider and Kyungsoo can’t help but smile back, the younger boy’s fingers warm and gentle around his as they get up and walk out of the bookstore, hands still clasped tightly together.

(We probably look really stupid right now, grinning at each other like that, he thinks, but then he realizes he doesn’t care at all.)  

Their first official date takes place at the movie theater. Kyungsoo doesn’t really like watching movies, and he’s not entirely sure what they’re going to watch (because sitting through a romcom with Jongin is slightly more than awkward), but the sight of Jongin pacing nervously back and forth in front of his apartment makes Kyungsoo smile.

“What are we going to watch?” he asks as Jongin reaches tentatively for his hand and they walk towards the cinema together, sides pressed against each other, warm in the chilly evening air. Jongin is a comforting figure next to him, someone he can cling to and feel safe with. Someone to offer a shoulder for him to lean on.

“Uh, I kind of realized that I didn’t know what you liked to watch,” Jongin admits ruefully, and it’s hard to see his expression in the darkness, but Kyungsoo notices the faint outline of a bashful grin on the younger boy’s face. “Sorry. I should have asked earlier.”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to tell Jongin that to be honest, he doesn’t like to watch movies at all, but he hesitates, then smiles at Jongin. He can like movies for Jongin. “I don’t care. Whatever you want to watch.”

They end up sneaking in to watch a children’s film because Jongin took one look at the other movies and shook his head. Kyungsoo understands—after all, it is somewhat awkward to watch rated films with your boyfriend on your first date. He decides that he likes children’s films the best, anyways. They’re innocent and cute, and he enjoys watching them just for the fun of it.

Halfway through the movie, however, Jongin apparently becomes rather bored because Kyungsoo suddenly finds himself in a rather compromising position in which Jongin’s arm is around his shoulders and Jongin’s head resting on his shoulder. Somehow, that turns into a hug, and then something a little more, before a little girl shrieks a few seats away from them, “Those two people are kissing! Ew!”

Kyungsoo and Jongin end up being kicked out of the movie theater by an angry security guard who drags them out with a threatening look. Kyungsoo’s mortified, face completely red in embarrassment, while all Jongin can do is keep on biting his lip to stop himself from laughing as the security guard rants about destroying the innocence of children. They run out of the theater as quickly as they can, accompanied by the security guard’s shouting, until they reach the street across from the cinema and burst out laughing, the wind biting at their ears and noses, reaching for each other to stay warm.

(Kyungsoo hopes these moments will last forever.)

Jongin is passionate about dancing—no, Jongin loves dancing. Kyungsoo catches him dancing to some song by the new popular boy band, EXO, one day, and spends about five minutes standing there in awe, watching as Jongin flows with the rhythm, making each step seem so natural and simple, yet flawlessly beautiful.

He nearly turns away in order to not distract the younger boy, but Jongin notices him before Kyungsoo can take a step away. “Hyung!”

“You’re really good,” Kyungsoo tells him when Jongin walks up to him. “At dancing. Do you dance a lot?”

“I’ve been dancing since I was five,” Jongin laughs, pulling Kyungsoo with him as he walks back to where he had been dancing. “I can’t imagine my life without dancing. It’s like a second nature to me.”

“I didn’t know you love dancing that much.”

“It’s the air I breathe.” Jongin faces Kyungsoo and clasps their hands together, fingers intertwining with a whisper of we fit perfectly. “Dance with me, hyung.”

“I can’t dance,” Kyungsoo protests, but he steps with Jongin anyways, unable to repress the urge to laugh with the younger boy as he stumbles slightly and holds on even more tightly to Jongin. “I’ll fall. I can’t dance at all.”

(“Don’t worry,” Jongin whispers back into his ear, “I’m here to catch you.”)

Fantasy stories include falling in love during battles against ferocious, evil dragons with black scales and dark blood dripping off poisonous fangs, but there aren’t any dragons to be seen, much less battles against them, no matter how much Kyungsoo tries to search for them.

(Maybe his head is stuck too far amongst clouds in the sky.)

He didn’t expect to find someone in a setting as simple as a bookstore.

They stumble through the door, Jongin pulling Kyungsoo forward, feet tripping over each other as they struggle to find their way in the dark. Somehow, Kyungsoo finds the bed and they collapse on it, Jongin on top. Their mouths are hot against each other, leaving burning marks upon each other’s skin,  each kiss hungry and demanding, a greedy promise of you’re mine, and only mine.

Jongin gasps when Kyungsoo gently at his bottom lip, arching his back as Kyungsoo lingers on his neck, trailing searing kisses across his jaw and down to his collarbone. Their fingers fumble at buttons, dancing across bare arms, lingering over clothing half cast away—Kyungsoo is pretty sure he moans when Jongin runs his hands under his shirt, tracing his ribs and rubbing gentle circles across his stomach. It takes him a few moments to realize that Jongin’s fingers are tugging at the zipper of his jeans, slow and hesitant, as if the younger boy is waiting for Kyungsoo to give permission.

Something clicks inside of Kyungsoo and he retreats, pushing Jongin’s hands away gently, shaking as he sits up, voice trembling because “Not yet, I’m not ready for this yet. I’m sorry, Jongin-ah, I’m sorry.”

Jongin also sits up, but Kyungsoo can’t tell his expression in the dark, if he’s annoyed or if he understands. “Hyung?”

“Don’t. I’m not ready for this.” Kyungsoo puts his shirt back on and gets off of the bed, dusting his jeans off. “I’m so sorry.”

(He’s empty inside, empty, because this isn’t what he dreamed of. There’s no fantasy in this.)

In between the stories and Jongin’s laugh and eyes and dreams, Kyungsoo realizes he’s fallen too much, given too much of himself to that strange thing called love.

(It terrifies him.)

Jongin bursts into the bookstore the next day five minutes after Kyungsoo arrives to work, hair disheveled, expression frantic as he skids to a stop in front of the counter. Kyungsoo looks up at him, startled, and then Jongin steps back as they remember what happened the night before. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” Kyungsoo mumbles back, not sure of what he should be saying in situations like this. He takes a book off a stack next to him and flips to the back cover, pretending to be concentrating on the summary to avoid having to look at Jongin and feel even more guilty. “Um—”

“I got into the academy,” Jongin blurts out, “I got into the dance academy. The really famous one I was telling you about the other day. They’re giving me a scholarship and I’ll be getting a chance to perform.”

“Oh!” Kyungsoo smiles and meets Jongin’s gaze. “That’s great!” He breathes a sigh of relief—it’s a lot less awkward to talk about Jongin’s achievements, and really, he’s excited for the younger boy, because after all, this is what Jongin has been hoping for all his life, isn’t it? Then, the realization strikes him and it suddenly hard to breathe because—

“Hyung…I have to leave.”

(Something begins breaking.)

“Oh. Well. Yeah.” Kyungsoo takes a deep breath and stares back at the summary of the book, as if training his eyes hard enough on the cover will keep the disappointment and hurt away. “Can we talk later? After I get off from work?”

Jongin nods and Kyungsoo watches him walk away, the book feeling much too heavy in his hands all of a sudden.

He’s made his decision, but it feels so wrong.

“They offered me a scholarship, and free train tickets and all that. A place to live. But it’s in another city and I won’t be able to come back for a long time.”

Kyungsoo waits until Jongin finishes explaining before asking, still refusing to look at Jongin directly, “It’s your lifelong dream, isn’t it?”

Jongin nods. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “It is.”

“You’re going to go?”

A pause, then Jongin sighs and nods again. “I’m going.”

Numb is a good emotion, because it’s emotionless. Kyungsoo takes several shallow breaths, trying to remain numb as he gathers up the courage to say what he’s been thinking of ever since Jongin ran into the bookstore that morning. “I see.”

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jongin mumbles, staring down at his feet, “I really am. But I’ll be here to visit as often as I can, and we can talk every day on the internet and text each other. It’ll be okay, right? It’ll be okay.” The last sentence is whispered, and Kyungsoo finally manages to look Jongin in the eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” he says softly, clenching his hands into fists, out of Jongin’s sight as he tries not to break down. “It’ll be okay. Go and achieve your dreams, Jongin-ah. I wish you luck.”

“I’ll text you every day,” Jongin says brightly, a look of relief washing over his face. “I’ll do well, hyung. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t.” There. He’s said it.

“Hyung?”

“Don’t text me. Don’t talk to me. We should have never been together in this relationship.”

Jongin’s expression becomes blank as he stares back at Kyungsoo disbelievingly. “Hyung?” he asks again, but this time, there’s a tremor in his voice, and Kyungsoo hates himself so much at that moment, he wants to just sink down to his knees and cry.

“Let’s end this before it gets out of hand,” Kyungsoo says as coldly as he can, but the tears are already beginning to well up in his eyes. He blinks rapidly to make them go away, then continues, “Don’t think of me anymore. Go and do well in dancing, Jongin-ah. Make me proud.”

“Hyung!”

(But Kyungsoo is already walking away, finally letting the tears flow as he refuses to let himself turn back, because he knows if he does, he’ll never leave again.)

Jongin texts him five minutes later, and despite everything, Kyungsoo opens the message. It’s only one word long, but it’s a question Kyungsoo doesn’t want to answer. Why?

Because I thought relationships were perfect but I realized that I’m too caught up in a fictional world, and reality is too harsh. Kyungsoo pauses and almost erases the entire sentence—but Jongin deserves an explanation, he supposes. Because I fell too much and I’m afraid I won’t be able to get up again. Because I’m not good enough to stay in this relationship. Because I’ll end up hurting you. Because this wasn’t what I was expecting, and you were too good to me. Because I don’t deserve you.

(Don’t contact me again, he adds. I wish you luck. Do well.)

It’s too lonely without Jongin nearby, but this is what he deserves.

“Hyung, you’re an idiot.”

Jongin is leaning against the wall as Kyungsoo walks out of the bookstore a week later, preparing himself to run back home without an umbrella. It’s raining today, the skies covered with angry gray clouds and the air full of raindrops pattering onto the ground, washing the world in a sheen of regret.

As much as he wants to, Kyungsoo doesn’t acknowledge Jongin’s statement and continues trudging past, ignoring the younger boy as he splashes his way through puddles, concentrating on the path in front of him in order to pretend he hasn’t heard anything.

“I know you heard what I just said.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t answer, merely continues walking forward.

“I’m not going to the dance academy.”

He stops. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m not going to the dance academy. I’d rather stay here, in this town, where I grew up.”

“And this concerns me because?” Kyungsoo asks, but he knows Jongin knows the answer already, because if it didn’t concern Kyungsoo, he wouldn’t have stopped and turned to face Jongin.

“I’d rather stay with you,” Jongin adds quietly, and the rain is too loud all of a sudden, drumming into Kyungsoo’s ears, drowning out the rest of the world. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“No.” Kyungsoo begins to back away now, his breath shortening as he tries not to sob, the words catching harshly in his throat. He can’t do this, he’s hurt both of them so much, but yet, he just wants to go back to Jongin. “Don’t do this to me, Jongin-ah. Don’t make it worse.” He turns back and begins walking away again, barely able to see in his panic. “Leave me alone.”

“Kyungsoo-yah—”

(Leaving hurts like a claw ripping out his heart and tearing it apart, but he can’t cry out in pain, he can’t let Jongin see he regrets this as much as the younger boy does)

He continues walking away, not daring to look back. Every step is an added agony, setting fire to his lungs as he tries to suppress the sobs threatening to escape from him. He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to go. But he’s scared that he can’t keep this relationship, scared that Jongin will get tired of him and cast him away, because reality is so much harsher than dreams.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says quietly, “I can’t do this—”

Two hands grab his wrists and turn him around, and Kyungsoo finds himself staring straight into Jongin’s eyes as Jongin clutches at his sleeves and half sobs, brokenly, desperately, “Don’t—ever—leave—me.”

“I—”

“Please.” Jongin’s voice cracks and his grip around Kyungsoo’s wrists becomes tighter. “Hyung, don’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re running away because you’re scared. I’m scared. Maybe it’s too early for talking about love, but I’m really, really goddamn close to it. You mean everything to me.”

Kyungsoo swallows once or maybe twice, pretending that the drops of water running down from Jongin’s eyes are rain, not tears. “We—we’re not perfect, Jongin-ah.”

“No one is ever perfect. You don’t have to be perfect. We don’t have to be perfect.”

“I’m not good enough.” Kyungsoo’s voice drops to a whisper and he refuses to meet the younger boy’s gaze. “Jongin-ah, I’m not good enough. Half the time, I think this is all some fairytale we’re living in, and I want everything to be perfect. I’m not supposed to be afraid of—of falling in love with you. I’m”—and here, his voice breaks—“I’m not supposed to feel worried that I’m not meant for you. You’re not supposed to leave me. I’m not supposed to leave you. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Jongin laughs quietly, humorlessly, still not letting go of Kyungsoo’s arms. “I gave up my dreams of dancing for you.”

“Then go back. Get on the train and go achieve your dreams. I—I’ll be watching you and do well to make me proud okay?” His mind is screaming at him, telling him to stop speaking, to just hug Jongin and make everything all right again, but he can’t, because there’s that little thought of I’m not good enough, he can’t care about me enough to stay, because I don’t deserve it.

“I don’t want to. I’d rather be with you than have you cheer me on in the distance. If I’ve given up dancing for you, you’re good enough, okay? I care about you more than I care about dancing.” Jongin’s eyes search his, as if crying out for an answer, but Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to respond. “Hyung, are you scared?”

I can’t imagine my life without dancing, Jongin had told him. It’s the air I breathe.

“Let go of me.”

It’s raining hard and Kyungsoo’s soaked through, rivulets of water from his bangs trickling down his face as he shivers slightly in the cold. Jongin releases his arms but doesn’t step back, so Kyungsoo stands on his tiptoes (he hates being short), grasps the front of Jongin’s jacket, and pulls the younger boy down into a gentle kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he says after he pulls away, “Maybe I am scared.” He laughs shakily and clings to Jongin, not even caring about how the rain’s still pouring down—he’s going get sick for sure but it doesn’t matter—or how he’s trembling uncontrollably, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “But we’ll be here for each other, right?”

Jongin nods, the beginnings of a spark of hope lighting up in his eyes. Kyungsoo buries his face into Jongin’s shoulder and breathes in Jongin’s scent, closing his eyes and maybe, maybe he is crying and laughing all at once, mumbling about how maybe they can figure out how to be together and still get Jongin to dance at the academy, sketching a million different possibilities into one dream.

(“I won’t leave you,” he promises, “I’ll never leave you.”)

This is the end of the beginning—of a story.

Their story.

screeches i am so done with school 2013 i just o/