Kyungsoo had been inexplicably pleased when Jongin turned up at the kitchens unannounced, even though he looked like he’s just run for miles, with sweaty hair and glistening abs which Kyungsoo had had to force himself to not stare at.

Later on, Jongin took him back home, which was fortunate for Kyungsoo because couldn’t remember which way to go, and would almost certainly have gotten lost if not for him. Back at Kyungsoo’s new home- his insides warmed at the thought- Jongin had delved into a chest of old musty furs and dug out something that looked like it had been buried there a long time. It was a prettily patterned clay pot, with paint inside, made from animal fat and coloured earth.

The paint seemed to be a cultural thing here, something important to them, so Kyungsoo let Jongin drag his paint covered fingers all over his face and body with abandon. Even if it hadn’t seemed important to Jongin, Kyungsoo would have let him paint his body anyway. He both loved and hated at the same time how it felt to have the other man’s hands running over his face and body, a touch that would have been forbidden in his home clan.

But Jongin didn’t notice, or at least show that he noticed Kyungsoo biting his lip as he trailed his fingertips over his stomach. This was the closest Kyungsoo had ever willingly been to another human that he wasn’t related to and he was in two minds about how he felt. On the one hand, he was pleased that Jongin didn’t mind being close to him. It was thrilling, and Kyungsoo wanted more. On the other it was a battle to not reveal his true nature.

He didn’t want to be thrown out of his home again. Jongin drew a curve of white underneath his pectoral muscle. Mournfully, Kyungsoo decided that he couldn’t allow himself be close to Jongin anymore, physically at least. It would only make things worse for him in the long run. What if one day he lost control of himself? Something dark curled inside Kyungsoo, then, painful and wrong.

Then Jongin held out the paint set bashfully, “Paint me now?” He had said, as if there was a chance Kyungsoo could ever say no to him.

“Of course,” he whispered. Jongin had already drawn a stripe of red across his eyes, with lines of other colours above and below it. The design was something no doubt important in some way, so Kyungsoo was careful not to ruin it.

With his fingers dipped in the black paint to start with, he began at Jongin’s neck, creating geometric patterns across his collarbones. He focused on finely detailing his drawing, so that he didn’t focus on Jongin’s lean, wiry muscles shifting underneath his hands.

After he finished a swirling pattern on Jongin’s hipbone, almost forgetting that it was Jongin he was painting on because he was concentrating so hard on the design, he pulled away to admire his work. Jongin’s reaction to his painting ability was flattering, and surely exaggerated, but that didn’t stop a tiny smile from appearing on his face once Jongin has gone outside for a moment to see the sky.

Jongin returned quickly, and pulled him out the door. He harried him all the way to the venue, dragging him over ground he couldn’t navigate well in the dark. Sharp rocks underfoot hurt him, but Kyungsoo could almost feel the excitement radiating from Jongin, and that made him happy too.

When they arrived at the scene, Jongin and Kyungsoo chatted to some of Jongin’s friends before the celebration fully started, and met Yifan’s niece.

She was shy at first, hiding behind her uncle’s leg and peering round with wide eyes, but Kyungsoo liked to think that he had always been good with children. He crouched down and bowed his head to her, showing respect even though he was older than her.

After a moment, she came out from her hiding place and bowed back, a bashful smile gracing her pretty face. Kyungsoo grinned back at her.

“Hello. What is your name?” He intoned softly, but loudly enough to be heard over the clamour of all the partying people around them,

“Hyojung…” She replied quietly. Her voice was sweet, and Kyungsoo suppressed the urge to pat her head paternally; it would have been inappropriate to display such affection to somebody he didn’t know.

“Did you do your face paint yourself? It’s looks wonderful.” He complimented. Well, he admitted, it looked wonderful for a four-year-old to have done it at least.

“No, uncle Yifan did it for me!” She exclaimed brightly, “He’s really good at painting!”

“Oh.” Kyungsoo stopped, dumbfounded. “He’s very skilled.” He lied, not wanting to offend her. She giggled, and pointed at Kyungsoo’s face.

“I like yours too.” A warm flush of pride blooms in Kyungsoo’s chest at the praise: children donn’t know when to hold back from the truth, so he was sure she was being entirely honest.

After he left and came back with a leather bag filled with wine, and handed it off to Tao, Yifan picked Hyojung up, and bounced her like a mother would a baby. This surprised Kyungsoo because in his home –former home, he should say- younger children were encouraged to rise above treatment such as this early on, to strive to be more adult. And a man would be unlikely to take care of a child in this way as well; that was a job for the mothers. Everything is backward here, Kyungsoo thought, they’re all so carefree and…happy.

Tao offered around drinks, but Jongin refused claiming he couldn’t dance when under the influence of alcohol. Kyungsoo followed suit, politely refusing too. After that Jongin began to tell everyone about his upcoming performance, describing the progress of the team and using words that are vague and don’t make much sense to Kyungsoo.

Hyojung began to nod off against Yifan’s shoulder, her little mouth falling open in her drowsiness.

While Yifan tried to keep Hyojung awake, Jongin took over Kyungsoo’s attention, talking so quickly that he really had to focus to understand any of what he was saying. Even though he missed a good deal of the words, Jongin’s enthusiasm was so very obvious whenever he talks about his performance, despite his also obvious effort to seem composed. It was like watching a child trying to seem grown up, concealing his excitement.

With Hyojung falling asleep, Yifan decided to take her back home. She had wanted to stay up to see Jongin dance, and Yifan had let her but she hadn’t been able to manage it. He wasn’t gone for very long, and he came back with a flagon of wine to refill everyone’s cups.

He was beginning to loosen up and get into the mood of the event, and is even talking more freely with Yifan and Tao, who are both very interested in how his living conditions are. Kyungsoo had already explained to them that he would be living in Jongin’s house, with his mother and brother. He didn’t want to look anywhere else, or request a place of his own. Especially not with winter drawing nearer, as houses took a long time to build, and were a community effort.

“You might want to be a bit cautious if you’re going to live with Jongin; he’s not…known for being tidy. You might die; who knows what lives in that guy’s bed…” Yifan seemed to be genuinely disturbed at the thought, but Tao was covering his face with his hand again, and Kyungsoo could hear the choked laughter emanating from behind it and knows that they’re just joking. At least, he hoped they are.

The drums changed, and the whole demeanour of everyone present changed along with it. Kyungsoo, who didn’t understand the significance of the percussion at all, just looked around wide eyed waiting for someone to tell him what was going on.

Jongin grabbed Kyungsoo from behind, startling him, and shouts right next to his ear to ensure that he heard him over the rising commotion.

“I’ll be back later, ok? Stay with Yifan! You have to watch, understand?” Kyungsoo nodded frantically, and that seemed good enough for Jongin. Yifan slings an arm round Kyungsoo’s shoulders good-naturedly as they push their way to the front of the crowd.

“I think he likes you.” He says, over the noise of the crowd, “he’ll probably work extra hard tonight.”

“I like him too, he is kind.” Kyungsoo smiled, pleased that someone who had known Jongin for a long time thought they were close. Yifan just laughed, because Kyungsoo didn’t know that Jongin wasn’t really that kind, he was actually a little abrasive in fact, and unwilling to participate in conversations if it didn’t concern him personally. He also didn’t share easily. To Yifan it was blatantly obvious that Jongin had more than friendly intentions toward Kyungsoo. He didn’t say anything about it though; he didn’t want to push either of them before they were ready. He’d just watch everything play out.

The performers weren’t quite ready yet, they were still standing in a circle. One of them-Kyungsoo couldn’t tell who from this distance, and certainly not in the low light- was gesticulating animatedly. He could feel the energy thrumming in the air, palpable and intangible at the same time.

The dancer finished what looked like a pep talk with a fist raised to the starry sky. Kyungsoo didn’t know if it was an encouragement, or if it was a threat. They dispersed and formed a loose circular shape, and Kyungsoo’s stomach fluttered in anticipation.

Jongin’s position was quite close to him. Kyungsoo could tell it was him because he waved in his and Yifan’s direction. He could take maybe three or four steps and touch him, if he wanted to.

Jongin’s face was nearly invisible because of the raging orange fire behind him, but when he smiled he could see the glint of his teeth reflecting the flames. He looked otherworldly- beautiful.

There was a momentary pause in the percussion and Kyungsoo, having gotten used to the steady rhythm, noticed it again. The pace changed, slowing but each pound of the drum resonating in the pit of Kyungsoo’s belly. A few beats in, suddenly Jongin’s body jerked, a higher pitched drum joining in with the first one, rapid like the wings of a dragonfly.

A flute-like instrument keened lyrically through the chaotic noise.

Jongin sank to the ground lithely, and crawled on all fours like a predatory animal, his back arching downwards, forearm raising at an angle. A wolf. His grace when moving belied his clumsiness in real life, and Kyungsoo had difficulty believing these two people were one and the same.

Jongin leapt into the air over another person, landed with a roll, and then ran around the perimeter of the fire to the beat of the bass drums, pushing the edge of the audience back half a step. His ferocity, his dedication for the role he was channelling, left Kyungsoo breathless. Was he being possessed by a spirit? Was that why his movements were so precise, so realistic?

Jongin stopped, back in his original place, and froze. The drums picked up the pace, and the noise pulsated through the ground. Kyungsoo could feel it vibrating through his body, making him feel alive. He wanted to move too, like Jongin was.

The whole troupe burst into a foot stamping frenzy of movement, some of the techniques so elaborate and complicated that Kyungsoo could barely keep up just watching them. He didn’t even see the performers other than Jongin, how could he? He knew that Jongin’s eyes were fixed on him as well, but he didn’t care about being a distraction now.

By now people were stamping along, and some were jumping, untrained but passionate and maybe a little drunk. Kyungsoo found himself wishing he could join them, but something held him back. The thought of missing something held him in a vice-grip, and he was unable to move, eyes fixated on the dancer before him.

If possible, the pounding became even louder, and the dance even more dynamic and vigorous. The dancers coiled around each other, twisting and turning and leaping and, somehow, not crashing. Kyungsoo felt a prickle of jealousy; he’d never be that nimble.

Yifan pushed Kyungsoo’s chin up, closing his mouth- he’d been openly gaping. Kyungsoo rubbed his jaw embarrassed at having been caught.  Yifan smirked, raising an eyebrow at him with a knowing glint in his eye. Kyungsoo tilted his face away from Yifan afterwards, a cold dread settling in his stomach, but keeps his gaze locked onto Jongin anyway.

The dance ended dramatically, the dancers with their arms raised above their heads, and the drums stopping altogether. The silence was deafening, and left Kyungsoo reeling. The whole troupe stood still, chests heaving, grinning at the hollering, thunderous applause that shook the ground almost as much as the drums did. Kyungsoo joined in on the applause, clapping his hands.

Everyon started to disperse at the same time, on some cue that Kyungsoo must have missed. Jongin bounds up to him from nowhere; Kyungsoo had lost sight of him in the confusion, and hugged him voraciously. He was dripping sweat everywhere, and though it didn’t look bad on him, he didn’t want his sweat all over him. Kyungsoo pushed him away immediately with a disgusted grunt, smearing the paint on his skin a little.

At a safe distance, Kyungsoo viewed Jongin’s flushed, laughing face, awe flooding him.

“Did you enjoy it?” Jongin asked, having to raise his voice to be heard once again. Kyungsoo nodded, but refused to display just how much he liked it, afraid that Jongin might be able to see right through him like Yifan did. He fidgeted, looking for the man but not seeing him anywhere- he could only hope that he told no one.

Jongin’s fervently hopeful expression had dropped a little in disappointment at Kyungsoo’s nonchalance. He had hoped to maybe woo Kyungsoo with his dancing, because it was his best quality. But apparently, contrary to all the people he met at the summer gathering who had tried to talk to him after seeing him perform, Kyungsoo didn’t care.

He supposed that was refreshing, though it left him completely void of ideas on how else to catch Kyungsoo’s attention in that way. He wasn’t forward enough to just confess without some kind reassurance that he wouldn’t be rejected. Maybe he could try asking his mum- he’d heard plenty of stories of how she was a flirt before she met his father. Perhaps she would be able to help him out.

He mentally shuddered; the thought of asking his mother to meddle in his love-life is slightly horrifying.

Sighing, he took hold of Kyungsoo’s shoulders and walked behind him.

 “C’mon, let’s go get some food.”

Kyungsoo looked in the direction the crowd is headed and was pleasantly surprised to see that several huge tables, laden with the food he’d helped prepare, have been erected in rows. Small lamps fuelled by animal fat were placed in intervals along the lengths of wood. There weren’t many places left to sit at.

They both picked up their pace to get a seat before they were all taken, but in the end, they needn’t have worried because Yifan had saved them some space. The twosome sat cross legged on the floor, and Jongin began to serve them some spiced stew, and flatbread made with the grains they had gathered at the end of the season while Tao served out more fruit wine.

On Jongin’s other side was Sehun, who he had been neglecting slightly in favour of Kyungsoo lately. He felt a little bad about that, so he made a promise not to accidentally ignore him in the future. Sehun ladled the stew onto Kyungsoo’s plate-leaning over Jongin’s in the process, he accidently dripped some into Jongin’s cup, automatically causing an argument.

“Hey! What’re you doing? You just contaminated my drink!” Jongin glared at him ferociously.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Sehun mumbled, completely unbothered.

“So, whose fault was it? Ah, whatever, just go get me a new drink.” He demanded, holding out his cup.

“No? I’m busy with this; go get it yourself.” He nudged Jongin with his knee, knowing full well that he wouldn’t object too vehemently, not with Kyungsoo right there. He wouldn’t want to seem like the brat he was in front of the guy he is so obviously developing feelings for. To be perfectly honest, Sehun found the whole thing quite funny. He’d actually caught Jongin gazing at this guy. Gazing. More than once, in fact.

He promised himself to about it later, if only to get a reaction out of him. It seemed like their entire relationship was built upon squabbling but Sehun didn’t really mind. They were nice to each other when the situation called for it.

Kyungsoo watched their exchange with amused glint in his eyes. He was used to people being stiflingly civil, and at first he hated it when the two were constantly fighting, but after a while he had picked up on the undercurrent of brotherly love between them. It was still difficult for him to discern whether they were being serious or not, but it was getting easier the more he listened to them.

Jongin bared his teeth at Sehun, called him an immature name and left to get his drink. In his absence, Sehun descended upon Kyungsoo like a bird of prey,

“So, Kyungsoo. How’s it going with you and Jongin?” Sehun leant over Jongin’s empty space to stage whisper in his ear.

“Um, sorry? I don’t know what you mean.” Cold fear seeped into his insides, and his fists clench in his lap. Sehun had noticed too? His cautious confusion brings riotous laughter to the others. Sehun slapped his back.

“It’s ok, we know all about it anyway, there’s no need to hide it from us.” He managed to get out through the laughter wracking his body, but Kyungsoo felt sick to his stomach. Suddenly he wanted to throw up.

“Know what? I don’t…” He tried his best to make it seem like he really didn’t know what they’re talking about. Sehun didn’t give in.

“You know, you and Jongin? Sleeping together, spending time together.” He finished off with some grossly childish kissing noises. His eyes widened in horror; how could they have noticed so easily? He’d thought he’d hidden it so well, but obviously not.

“Oh, no, no, no, no.” He protested, waving his hands wildly, but it only succeeded in making the others laugh again. Kyungsoo covered his mouth with his hand, tears prickling in his eyes. He didn’t want to be exiled again, he couldn’t live with that again, he just couldn’t. Sehun, Tao and Yifan were completely oblivious, too busy giggling over his vehement denial to notice his distress.

Jongin came to the rescue, slamming his new cup of whatever he chose onto the table, shoving Sehun out of his spot and flinging his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders. Kyungsoo tried to shake his arm off, but Jongin just gripped tighter. Kyungsoo pretended that this didn’t make him feel a little better. He shouldn’t have felt better, he should have tried harder to extract himself from Jongin’s grip. But he didn’t.

“What the hell did you say to him?” He yelled at his friends, elbowing Sehun in the ribs and making him screech.

“Hey, we weren’t bullying him!” Sehun argued, offended at the suggestion. “We’re all nice people. I’m sorry, though, if I upset you Kyungsoo.” He seemed sincere, so Jongin let him off with one more scowl. The others had become quite sombre too, pushing their food around their plates. Good, Jongin thought, they should be sorry.

“What did they say?” Jongin asked Kyungsoo again, who turned his wide eyes to Jongin and just shook his head, unwilling to divulge his secret.

He drew Kyungsoo closer, in what he thinks is a reassuring manner, and began to eat his food using his other hand. Tao was the first to recover, and did a good job of placating Jongin by apologising to Kyungsoo for teasing him, but still won’t tell Jongin what they said.

Jongin growled under his breath, vowing to get it out of Kyungsoo, or failing that maybe Tao. He was weak when it came to this sort of thing.

During the course of the meal, however, Sehun and Jongin made up as they usually did- with a little bit of grovelling- and Jongin more or less forgot what happened, the pair of them inundated with alcohol by the end of the night. Kyungsoo drank a lot less than them, and was a lot less hazy when the time came to head home.

He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy the celebration; despite the little hiccup at the start, Jongin’s friends were all pretty sociable and do a good job of making it up to him afterwards.

The fire was almost burnt through when they decide to leave, softly burning charcoal cloaking the surrounding area in a pretty ethereal glow, but making the rest of the area pitch black and difficult to navigate.

Yifan and Tao had already left a while ago, along with the majority of the cave. There weren’t many people still there, and those that were had already fallen asleep. Jongin pushed a snoozing Sehun off his lap; leaving him here overnight wouldn’t hurt him. Just embarrass him a little, maybe.

Jongin stood up abruptly, and clung onto Kyungsoo’s arm, announcing his plan to abandon Sehun and go back home. He was exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to lie down at that moment. With Kyungsoo next to him.

Kyungsoo, soberer than Jongin, hoped he would be alert enough to take them back home, because he still wasn’t exactly sure where it was they were going. He’d only been there for two days after all, and everything looked so different in the dark.

Luckily though, Jongin seemed to know the route even when very drunk, leading Kyungsoo to believe that he’d done this before a few times. He steered them in the right direction, giggling for no reason at regular intervals. Kyungsoo wondered if he knew how silly he looks like this. He smiled to himself, keeping this memory safe inside his mind to look back on if things went bad later on.

When they reached their home, Jongin pulled Kyungsoo down into the bed furs with him, and curled up into his side, despite being the bigger person. Kyungsoo ran his fingers through his hair, sighing; Jongin was really making this harder than it needed to be, he thought agonisingly.

He fell asleep soon after, trying to ignore the way Jongin’s legs were splayed across his own.

Somebody was having a conversation without him, and in his just woken up state, he couldn’t focus enough to translate what they were saying in his head. It all just sounded like baby-talk. He tried to sit up, but his head hurt, so he flopped back down and groaned softy, rubbing his head into the softness of Jongin’s lap-

What?

His eyes sprung open and he flung himself backward, apologising.

Jongin reached over to calm him down, placing a hand on his upper arm and pulling him back with relentless determination. It impossible to escape, so Kyungsoo reluctantly accepted. Jongin was comfortable, and his head hurt too much for him to think right now. It was easier to just let this happen.

Jongin turned to whoever he was talking to before- his mother, Kyungsoo noted foggily- and says,

“Thanks, we’ll be fine I think.” She nodded, leaving them in peace.

Jongin allowed a few minutes for the silence to sink in before he spoke again.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, an unidentifiable emotion hiding just behind his eyes. Concern perhaps?

“My head hurts, but I am fine. Do you feel good, Jongin?” Kyungsoo rubbed his forehead, trying to abate some of the throbbing to no avail. How was Jongin not only up, but looking none the worse for wear? It made no sense. Jongin had drunk far more than he had, but somehow Kyungsoo was the one in the worst state.

Jongin cleared his throat. “Yeah, um, I’m good.” He replies. Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at him, from his compromising position. Kyungsoo noticed that Jongin had removed the paint, leaving him clean and half . Kyungsoo looked away, not allowing himself to look longer than necessary. Instead, he looked down at himself to find that he’s paint-less too; Jongin must’ve cleaned them both off, which meant that his hands had been all over his body while he slept. Kyungsoo wasn’t sure whether he wished he’d been awake at the time or not.

Jongin was quiet again for a time, humming to himself softly. Kyungsoo was about to fall back asleep, comfortable resting on Jongin, but the other man clearing his throat again jolted him from his drowsiness.

“Hm?” Kyungsoo managed to open one eye.

“Ah, I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while; why were you alone, that day?” Jongin asked. Kyungsoo’s blood ran cold.

hello it is i again. taking forever to update as usual. im sorry.

im back at uni now so its probably gonna still be slow my bad ^^;

my twitter if ur interested lol