It starts in Jongin’s first week of kindergarten.

He is outside on the playground built into the schoolyard, making his way up the steps to the slide, when a group of three approach him. He gives them a short wave out of politeness and then turns to continue clambering up the steps only to have the three boys step up to him and yank on his shirt, effectively forcing him to lose his footing and fall to the ground on his bottom. He feels the pain shoot through him from his backside up through his lower back and lets out a small cry of pain, looking up at the three boys that are still gripping his t-shirt.

He sends all three of them a hard glare, showing them just how much he disapproves of their recent action, although the three of them seem unfazed by his expression. As a matter of fact, one of the boys – a dark-haired boy with squinty, mischievous eyes – gives Jongin an odd smile that leaves the latter admittedly unsettled and confused. People don’t smile in such a way when he sends them glares; they don’t smile at all; they usually realize that they hurt him and apologize, and he’ll stop glaring and they’ll go back to playing. Why is this boy smiling so weirdly?

He gets his answer a few fractions of a second later when the boy bends down to Jongin’s eye level and flicks him on the forehead. Hard. Jongin yelps and covers the abused spot with his tiny hand, face pulled down into a scowl instead of a glare as he looks up at the boy before him.  “What’s your name?”  Jongin’s scowl deepens at the question; why would the kid flick him on the forehead if all he wanted to know was Jongin’s name? He finds his uneasiness growing, although, now rubbing his forehead, he still replies, “Kim Jongin.”

The boy bending down in front of him raises an eyebrow and then lets out a small laugh. “Kim Jongin, huh? Hmm.”  He hums to himself and puts a finger to his chin, the other hand on his bent knee for balance as he seems to think to himself in front of Jongin. “Kim Jongin,” he repeats after a brief moment. “That’s a stupid name,” he continues half a second later, flashing Jongin a broader version of that weird, unsettling smile that he had had on his face a few moments earlier. This time, however, Jongin feels himself getting upset instead of uncomfortable; the kid just called his name stupid!

“My name is not stupid,” he responds, voice taking on a small warning tone as he goes back to glaring at the boy in front of him. “Really,” the boy questions mockingly before looking up at his two friends – both of them posted on either side of Jongin. “Hmm. Do you guys think ‘Kim Jongin’ is a stupid name,” he asks them, a knowing look in his eye that Jongin does not enjoy seeing. The latter turns his head up to look at the other two boys, hoping that they’ll say no, that it’s a pretty normal name – a nice name, even – only to find himself disappointed because they are shaking their heads and snickering into their hands.

“Hey,” he practically shouts, insulted, “my name is not stupid!” The boy’s smile broadens and suddenly Jongin finds himself really upset. Why are they being so mean to him? He doesn’t like these boys one bit! The kid right in front of him nods his head and says, “It is stupid. Why else would they agree with me?” He gestures to his two friends and Jongin glances at them briefly before turning back to give the boy another one of his glares – this one stronger than the first one he gave the boy.

The kid is unfazed; he still gives Jongin that same smile and flicks him on the forehead again. Jongin yelps again, and then the boy asks, “You know what else is stupid?” Jongin has both hands covering his forehead now, head hanging down in pain, teeth gritting together. “What,” he asks, and he can hear how annoyed and upset he is in his own voice. He hears the kid breathe out a small laugh before he hears the kid say, “Your skin color. It’s so dark. It’s stupid.”

Jongin’s mouth flops open in shock, the words admittedly breaking through his annoyance and anger and placing a small feeling of hurt in his gut. “Hey,” he practically shouts as he lifts his head to look up at the boy, mouth still hanging open and eyebrows furrowed in obvious offense. “What,” the kid questions, that same annoying smile tugging on his lips. “It’s true. Your skin is so dark, it’s stupid! It’s weird! It’s,” he pauses, seems to think of something for a minute with a finger to his chin, and then grins broadly in the same way that he was smiling before, “ugly.”

That really breaks through to Jongin, and he feels something tighten in his center at the words. Each word is a new shock of pain in his chest and he hates it, because suddenly he feels like crying. “Stop it!” He shrieks at the kid, who is now laughing, his friends laughing along with him right next to Jongin, driving the latter closer and closer to tears. “I said stop it,” he practically shouts again when they keep on laughing at him.

“What are you going to do about it,” the kid before him asks, finally not laughing anymore, although that weird smile still planted on his face. Before Jongin can respond, the kid lifts a hand and shoves him in the middle of the chest. Hard. He punctuates it with a challenging, “Huh?” as Jongin falls backward onto his back and lets out a cry of surprise. Jongin hurriedly tries to get back up only to feel the two boys on his sides pushing him back down even harder than the first. He starts flailing around and kicking as he feels them try to pin his arms down to the ground. He feels his foot connect with something harshly, and then hears a hurt scream from the boy that had been crouched in front of him before the latter yells out, “Hey! You stupid Kim Jongin brat!”

Then he feels someone push him down head on and hit him across the cheek. Hard. He closes his eyes and starts trying to flail harder to get the boy on him off although the other two kids finally manage to pin down his arms so he is only able to kick at air. He feels the kid strike him across the cheek again and lets out a pained cry. And again. And again. His face is aching all over, his forehead still recovering from the flicks and his cheek now throbbing under its newly acquired soreness. He screams out in agony as the boy hits him across the cheek again, and then prepares himself to feel the next one, although a small, childlike voice interrupts the boy on top of him.

“Yah! Kim Sunggyu, you stop hitting that boy right now!”

Jongin can feel the boy on top of him freeze and hesitantly cracks an eye open to see what’s going on. He notices the boy’s squinty eyes are widened, looking scared. The boy flicks his dark eyes over Jongin’s face before turning to look over his shoulder, eyes still wide. Jongin, despite the pain in his cheek, tries to sit up just a bit to see who is calling out to his attacker. It proves difficult to do because the boy on top of him is heavier than he looks.

Soon enough, though, he feels someone taking the boy off of him and is met with the view of really big, round eyes and short, dark hair in the midst of the tears that he now realizes have been running down his cheeks since the first punch. He blearily sees the new kid above him scrunch up his face worriedly and then extend a hand out to him. Jongin hesitates, although figures that the new boy pulled his attacker off of him, so he can’t be that bad, and slips his hand into the other boy’s, allowing himself to be pulled up from his spot. The new boy pats him lightly, comfortingly, on the head before turning to face the other three boys and crossing his arms over his chest.

“That was really mean, you hear? Apologize to him,” the new kid barks out at the other three, face set into a deep scowl that looks really unnatural on him. The kid that had been on top of Jongin takes a tentative step forward and begins, “But hyung,” although the new kid immediately cuts him off with a stern, ”I said apologize.” Jongin’s attacker – Sunggyu, was it? – furrows his brow, although he turns to Jongin and spits out a halfhearted, “Sorry,” his eyes showing that he’s more fearful of the new kid than regretful of what he’s done to Jongin.

It seems to be enough to satisfy the new kid, for he nods his head in approval and says, “Good! Now don’t let me see you bothering this poor kid again.” He casts Jongin a glance, his large eyes noticeably softening, before he turns to glare at the other three boys again. “Now go play somewhere else! And play nice!” he shouts again, giving the other three boys a look that leaves no room for arguments.

The boys nod and take off without another word, and the new kid makes sure that they’re on the other side of the playground before he turns and bends down next to Jongin’s sitting form. Jongin is confused, but grateful. He doesn’t know who this stranger is but he knows that the new kid saved him from the mean Sunggyu and his friends. He finds himself staring at the boy before him, taking note of how the boy’s bow-shaped lips are pursed into a concerned frown. He feels the boy place a hand on his shoulder more than he sees it, because he’s too busy staring at the boy’s face.

“Are you okay,” the kid asks. Jongin only nods out of habit, because a fraction of a second later his cheek throbs again and he realizes he isn’t. He hisses and raises a hand to cover his still-wet cheek in a futile attempt to soothe the pain, and the boy, noticing, quickly grabs his hand and pulls it away. Jongin whines in protest, although the boy shushes him and says, “Let me look at it.”

“But you’re going to make it hurt more,” Jongin sniffles out, scowling. The kid only shakes his head and inspects the wound with careful fingers. Jongin winces at the touch, although he quickly realizes that the boy is really gentle; his cheek doesn’t hurt like he expected. He gazes at the boy lightly touching his cheek, taking in the look of concentration on the boy’s face, and purses his lips almost imperceptibly. The boy seems to notice, for he pauses and asks, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Jongin hurriedly shakes his head, although he stops when the motion makes his cheek sting. The wide-eyed boy frowns and claps his hands together, as if dusting them off, and then stands up. Again, he offers Jongin a hand, although this time when Jongin takes his hand, he pulls the latter to his feet.

“What’s your name,” he asks Jongin once he lets go, and Jongin answers, “Kim Jongin. And it’s not a stupid name.” The boy flashes Jongin a small smile and says, “You’re right, it’s not.” He stops, looks as though he’s wondering whether or not to say something, and then says, “I like it.” He smiles again, and Jongin finds it within himself to smile back. “Do you really?” The boy nods vigorously, and says, “I really do, Jongin.” Jongin’s smile broadens, and there is a short moment of silence before the boy speaks again. “My name is Do Kyungsoo,” he says, still smiling at Jongin, and Jongin continues to smile back as he responds, “Hey, I really like your name too.”

The boy’s face splits from a smile to a big grin, his lips forming a heart around his teeth; Jongin finds himself entranced by it as the boy – Kyungsoo – says, “Thank you!” It is only when a few moments have passed and Kyungsoo’s smile has fallen that Jongin realizes that he’s supposed to reply. “Oh,” he says; “You’re welcome.” He gives Kyungsoo a smile and the boy smiles back before he drops his gaze to Jongin’s cheek and says, “Well, anyway Jongin, your cheek is red.”

Jongin whips a hand up to lightly trail along his cheek, whimpering when it throbs and stings at the soft contact. Kyungsoo almost immediately after shoos his hand away with his own, saying, in a slightly panicked voice, “Don’t touch it, it’s going to hurt!” Jongin’s hand drops back to his side and Kyungsoo lets out a small sigh. “But what am I going to do,” he asks, eyes wide as he looks at Kyungsoo, lips pouting in despair. “My cheek is red; that means it’s probably going to bruise.”

Kyungsoo gives Jongin a light smile and says, “Hey, don’t worry about it, I know how to fix it make it better.” Jongin his head to the side, interested, eyes wide. “Really,” he questions; “How?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything in response. All he does is lean forward and place a small kiss on Jongin’s injured cheek. Jongin is caught off guard, and his hand flies up to his cheek just as Kyungsoo pulls away. His eyes are wide as Kyungsoo meets his gaze and smiles at him sweetly. “You kissed my cheek,” he says, voice sounding as surprised as he feels. Kyungsoo nods, clasping his hands together behind his back and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “I did,” he says evenly, still smiling.

Jongin frowns. “Why,” he inquires, to which Kyungsoo responds, “Umma always tells me that kisses and hugs are the two best kinds of medicine for boo-boos.”

Jongin stands there stunned, hand still on his cheek, as Kyungsoo lets out a small laugh. “Does it feel better,” the large-eyed boy asks after a moment. Jongin feels a smile slowly tugging on the corners of his lips then as he realizes that, actually yes, his cheek doesn’t hurt as much anymore, and he soon finds himself smiling at Kyungsoo almost shyly and nodding. “Yeah, it feels better.” He pauses, seems to think about something, and then says, “Thank you.”

“Hyung.”

Jongin furrows his brows in confusion. “What?” Kyungsoo is still smiling. “You’re in kindergarten, right?” Jongin’s frown deepens just the slightest. He nods. “Yeah, how did you know?” Kyungsoo shrugs. “You’re not in my class and you don’t look older than me, so you must be a kindergartner.” He stops, his smile stretching, and then finishes, “So I’m older than you. So you have to call me hyung.”

Jongin taps his cheek lightly with his finger, barely noticing any pain at this point, and nods lightly. “Okay, hyung. Thank you, hyung.” Kyungsoo is still smiling as he says, “It’s no problem.” Then he steps forward and encircles Jongin into a surprise hug. “Dry your face,” he says when he steps back, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet again. “It’s still wet from when you were crying.” Jongin is still swimming in his surprise at the unexpected hug, although he absentmindedly brings a hand across his face and does what he can to dry it off.

Kyungsoo nods after a moment, satisfied. “Good,” he says. “Next time you get hurt, just come and find me, and I’ll make you feel better, okay?” He gives Jongin a look with those wide eyes of his, and Jongin can only find it within himself to nod in agreement. “Okay,” he says. “Good,” Kyungsoo says again before waving and turning on his heel. “See you later, Jongin.” And with that he walks off. Jongin is left staring at him as he hears the teachers start calling them all in for reading time again.

When he gets home later that day, he tells his mom everything about the experience on the playground, to which she pecks him on the head and says, “That Kyungsoo boy is very smart,” with a knowing smile on her face.

--------------------

It continues for the next two years.

For the two years after Jongin meets Kyungsoo, Jongin runs to the large-eyed boy for every injury. He gets a paper cut? Runs to Kyungsoo at recess. He trips and scrapes his knee? Runs to Kyungsoo at recess. He bangs his elbow on a table by accident? Runs to Kyungsoo at recess. He finds it dumb that he’s limited to only seeing Kyungsoo at recess, but the latter is almost exactly a year older than him and is thus in a higher grade, so they’re not in the same class. It , but he can only ever run to Kyungsoo at recess whenever he gets hurt.

Unless, of course, they’re outside of school on a play date with each other and their parents, as they are now. Seven year old Jongin and eight year old Kyungsoo are currently running around chasing each other in the open, grassy area of a park in Seoul, laughing wildly with each turn. The park is relatively empty – it’s only around eleven in the morning on a Saturday – and so the two boys have the liberty of a seemingly endless amount of green space to run around on. They dart around trees and dash through the field, occasionally forgetting about their parents’ reminders to stay within sight and, having gone too far, turn and sprint all the way back into the adults’ lines of vision.

They’ve been at it for a while already, although Jongin still feels just as energized, if not more, than he did when they first started. His chest moves rapidly with each heavy breath, but his eyes are wide and excited as Kyungsoo flashes him a ‘scary’ smile and begins to chase after him. He lets out a small noise somewhere between a gasp, a laugh, and a cry of surprise, and then begins sprinting away from the elder, wild laughter bubbling out from the back of his throat.

He can barely see where he’s going because he’s moving around so fast, switching left and right and trying to shake Kyungsoo off his tail, because he can hear the other’s fast-approaching footsteps behind him. Even though Kyungsoo is small for his age, he is definitely quick on his feet. Jongin tries to picks up his pace as he makes a sharp right, attempting to dart around a tree and succeeding in evading the trunk, although not the roots that protrude from the ground.

Releasing a startled yelp, Jongin throws his hands out to catch himself as he falls. He manages to save his face, although his arms receive a bout of shock from the landing and he feels something scrape painfully against his legs. He hears footsteps behind him as pain begins to hit him in waves over his legs, but he ignores them in favor of letting sobs wrack through his body.

Somewhere in the midst of his pained sobbing, he hears Kyungsoo gasp and ask, “Are you alright?” and so he hurriedly shakes his head, not moving from his spot on the ground. A few seconds later he feels hands on his arms trying to pull him up. He knows they are Kyungsoo’s and not either of his parents’ because he can feel how small they are compared to his mom’s or dad’s hands. With Kyungsoo’s help, he rolls onto his back and sits up, laying his legs out in front of him with tears still pouring from his eyes to assess the damage. At the sight of bloody scratches on his shins, he starts crying harder, causing Kyungsoo to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and try to calm him.

The large-eyed boy shushes him soothingly, rubbing little circles on his back in an attempt to comfort him, saying, “Jongin, it’s okay, I’m here. It’s just a couple of scratches; it’s okay.” Jongin hears him, but he continues to sob as he reaches out a hand and tentatively glides his fingers in the general area of his wounds, whimpering at the pain. He knows Kyungsoo sees this, for a few fractions of a second later Kyungsoo is fussing and telling him to “stop playing around with them, they’ll get infected and it’ll hurt worse” and then calling for his parents to come over.

Within less than a minute, Jongin sees his mother arrive and crouch down next to him. “Jongin-ah,” she cooes, voice soft and smooth and soothing, “it’s okay, Jongin-ah. C’mon, I’ll give you a piggy back ride to the car so we can go home and disinfect your cuts.” She reaches out for Jongin but the latter backs away, feeling something like fear sinking into his gut. “B-but if we go home, I can’t p-play with Kyungsoo hyung,” he says, throwing the said boy a worried glance. Kyungsoo’s face looks sad but determined, and Jongin is scared that Kyungsoo is going to tell him that cleaning his cuts is more important than playing around no matter how much he wants to play because that’s the kind of person that Kyungsoo is, but his mother interrupts before Kyungsoo can even open his mouth to speak.

“It’s okay, Jongin-ah, I can talk to Kyungsoo’s mom and dad so that Kyungsoo can come over.”

Jongin redirects his gaze to his mother, eyes wide and small sniffles escaping him. “Really?” His voice sounds really hopeful, even to his own ears, and he feels relief wash through him, despite the pain in his leg, when his mother smiles and nods. “Yes, really.” She turns her head to look at Kyungsoo and asks, “Do you want to come over to play with Jongin after I disinfect his cuts?” to which Kyungsoo nods vigorously, lips breaking out into that heart shaped grin.

Jongin’s mother laughs and then says, “Okay, then let’s go ask your parents.” She then turns and reaches out so that Jongin can clamber onto her back, placing her hands under Jongin’s bottom for support as she begins walking, Kyungsoo trailing behind.

Naturally, Kyungsoo’s parents agree to Kyungsoo going over to Jongin’s house to play and promise to pick him up later, and so half an hour later Jongin finds himself sitting in a chair from the dining table set in the kitchen as his mother finishes wiping down his wounds with peroxide and places little band-aids over his cuts. He is still sniffling, although now it is from the after-effects of the sting from the disinfectant.

Kyungsoo is standing next to Jongin’s chair, holding the latter’s hand for support as Jongin’s mother presses down on the band-aids to make sure they’re secure before dusting her hands off and giving Jongin a smile. “Okay, Jongin-ah, you’re all set,” she says as she places her hands on her knees and stands up. She ruffles Jongin’s hair affectionately and says, “Now you guys can go keep playing. I’ll be in the living room watching TV with your father if you need me,” before walking off.

The kitchen is silent for a short while, until Kyungsoo, still holding Jongin’s hand, steps in front of the younger and asks, “How are you feeling? Does it still hurt?”  Jongin nods solemnly, looking right into Kyungsoo’s big, dark eyes. The older frowns and inquires, “Do you need me to make it better?” Jongin nods solemnly again, still meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze. Kyungsoo, in turn, gives him a small smile and says, “Okay,” before swooping down onto his knees and placing warm, gentle kisses on Jongin’s bandages. It stings a bit at first, but Jongin soon feels the pain in his legs calming.

He smiles as Kyungsoo stands and pulls him into a hug just as gentle as his kisses. After a minute or so, the elder pulls back and asks, “Feel better?” to which Jongin nods and grins back. “Thanks, hyung,” he says. Kyungsoo nods in acknowledgement before grabbing Jongin’s hand again and tugging on it lightly. “C’mon, now let’s go play,” he says. Jongin’s grin broadens as he hops off the kitchen chair and allows Kyungsoo to pull him away.

--------------------

It abruptly stops a week after Jongin turns ten.

It’s been five years since Jongin has met Kyungsoo and Jongin cannot recall a time in those five years where he’s felt as much pain as he does now. Kyungsoo is standing in front of him, big eyes dark and solemn, with the barest hints of a gleam in them that Jongin definitely does not enjoy seeing. He can tell that Kyungsoo wants to cry, and Kyungsoo knows he can tell, but he doesn’t. He just looks at Jongin for a long while as the sound of bags being stuffed into the trunk of Kyungsoo’s family’s truck fills the silence between them. A large moving truck sits in front of the apartment building Kyungsoo lives in – or used to live in, Jongin supposes, because starting today, Kyungsoo does not live there anymore.

Jongin is reminded of their first meeting ever as Kyungsoo clasps his hands behind his back and begins rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Something wrenches within his core. Hard. And he winces, and Kyungsoo notices but he pretends it never happens and so Kyungsoo doesn’t comment. The heavy silence between them lingers for a few moments longer before Kyungsoo clears his throat, eyes growing sadder by the second.

“So, um, Jongin-ah,” he begins awkwardly, still rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Jongin does not let himself react. He just watches Kyungsoo with the same solemn expression Kyungsoo has on his face on his own features. There is a pause in which Kyungsoo just stares at him sadly, eyes seeming to begin shimmering that much more. But then Kyungsoo blinks furiously and Jongin is left to believe that maybe he’s just seeing things.

“So that’s it, huh?” Jongin asks, breaking the pause and meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze directly. And Kyungsoo only nods and continues rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Jongin-ah,” he says after a moment, and when he speaks his voice cracks just the slightest, and suddenly his eyes are watering all over again and Jongin knows that he’s not seeing things, “I’m going to miss you, Jongin-ah.”

Jongin feels his own eyes fill to the brim, blurring his vision, although he absolutely refuses to let the tears collecting in the corners of his eyes fall. He will not have it. He promised himself before coming to see Kyungsoo off that he wouldn’t cry. “It’s okay,” he manages to get out through the way his throat is tightening up. “I know you’ll keep in touch with me, because that’s how you are.” He tries to flash Kyungsoo a smile, although he knows it doesn't reach his eyes and Kyungsoo knows he’s not really into it because his brows furrow further into that sad frown.

Nonetheless, Kyungsoo nods in agreement. “I will,” he concedes, and then, allowing something halfway between a sob and a fond laugh to escape him, adds, “And you make sure you call me whenever you’re hurt so I can come kiss your boo-boo make it better and give you a big hug.”

That does it for Jongin, and he curses himself because he can’t hold his tears back anymore. It all hurts so bad, and so he tells Kyungsoo by choking out, “Hyung, my heart hurts.” He swallows harshly and then asks, in the middle of his tears, “Can you kiss it make it better?” Kyungsoo gives him a sad smile before kissing his fingertips and placing his hand on the younger’s chest, right over where his heart is. And then Kyungsoo is crying, although he manages to keep it silent and restrained, that sad smile still painted over his face, and Jongin can’t help but to think that sad expressions just don’t look like they belong on a face that can show its big heart through its similarly-shaped smile.

“Don’t cry, hyung,” he says, lifting a hand to wipe Kyungsoo’s tear-stained cheeks. The minute his hand makes contact with Kyungsoo’s face, he’s pulled into a tight hug. It’s a bit weird, because even though Kyungsoo is older, Jongin is taller, and so Kyungsoo’s face is buried in Jongin’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss you so much, Jongin-ah.” Jongin feels his heart clenching painfully as he raises his arms and clings onto Kyungsoo in response, bowing his head so that his chin is resting on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. He never remembers feeling this upset in his life – especially within the last five years.

“Kyungsoo-ah, we’re leaving!” Kyungsoo’s mother calls out from beside the family’s car. Jongin glances up and sees her waving an arm to call her son over, then clenches his eyes shut and buries his face into Kyungsoo’s shoulder. He really doesn’t want Kyungsoo to leave. He breathes in the scent of the boy that has been his best friend for the last five years, trying his best to absorb it fully and imprint it into his memory.

They stand in that hug for a few moments longer before Jongin feels Kyungsoo begin to pull away, and so he pulls away as well and meets Kyungsoo’s gaze. Kyungsoo only gives him a brief, sad smile and pats his cheek affectionately before he says, “Bye Jongin-ah,” turns on his heel, and makes his way over to his waiting mother. Jongin watches as he stumbles the last few steps into his mother’s arms and buries his face into her shoulder. A brief second later, he can see Kyungsoo’s shoulders shaking and knows that the boy is crying in his mother’s embrace. The way Kyungsoo’s mom purses her lips and coos as she softly Kyungsoo’s hair is more than enough confirmation that he really is crying.

Jongin watches as a short minute later Kyungsoo’s mother whispers something into the boy’s ear, and then as Kyungsoo nods and steps out of her embrace, and then as Kyungsoo opens the back door of the car and slides into the backseat, and then as Kyungsoo’s mother slides into the passenger’s side, and then as the doors close and the car takes off down the street and around the corner, the moving truck following behind them.

“Jongin-ah.” He hears his mother’s own voice behind him and turns around, face still wet with tears. She gives him a sad, knowing smile and says, “It’s time to go home.” Jongin only nods wordlessly before making his way over to the car and sliding into the backseat. He tries not to think about the fact that, for once, Kyungsoo’s hug and kiss have done nothing to make him feel better.

The next five years of Jongin’s life are spent as if a great part of him is missing, because they do not keep in contact, and every time he is in pain he is reminded of the fact that the person that has given him his doses of healing medicine is not there to ease his pain anymore.

--------------------

It begins again after those lonesome five years of Jongin’s life.

Jongin is already fifteen years old. Tall and skinny with a full head of dark hair and gracefully accented dark eyes. It’s another ordinary day as he makes his way down the hall to his classroom only to be met with the sight of big, dark eyes and short, equally dark hair stepping out of the principal’s office and into the hall, a schedule clutched in one hand and a school bag strap clutched in the other. Jongin freezes in his tracks, taking in the sight before him.

Kyungsoo stands before him, about a foot taller since the last time Jongin’s seen him, bowed lips pursed and thick eyebrows furrowed into what Jongin recognizes on the boy’s face as confusion. The latter takes a few hesitant steps forward, scared that the sight before him is just an illusion. When he’s absolutely certain that the sight before him isn’t a mirage, he drops his bag, sprints forward, and engulfs the elder in a hug with a joyous shout of “Kyungsoo hyung!” that leaves half the hallway staring.

He feels the other boy tense up in his arms, although he is too overjoyed at the moment to care. “Who are you and why are you hugging me?” He hears Kyungsoo ask, and he grins and pulls back to let the elder have a good look at his face. “It’s me, Jongin,” he says as Kyungsoo begins inspecting his features. “Kim Jongin.”

There is silence for a moment, and then Jongin can see realization dawning on Kyungsoo’s face and feels his grin broaden. “Oh my god, Jongin-ah,” Kyungsoo says after a shocked minute. He pauses, scans Jongin from top to bottom and back to the top, and says, “You got so tall! It’s not fair!”

Jongin laughs at the elder, and then pats his shoulder and says, “It’s not my fault you were always small, hyung.” Kyungsoo sends him a false glare before laughing and pulling Jongin into another hug. “I missed you so much, Jongin-ah,” Kyungsoo says after a moment. Jongin laughs again and retorts, “Yeah, I can tell what with the way it took you a while to recognize me.” He receives a light slap on the arm and a playful scowl in response.

A week later, it’s as if Kyungsoo never left. Somehow they have managed to catch up on just about everything from the past five years, and the feeling Jongin usually gets – the one where it feels as if something is missing – hasn’t bothered him since Kyungsoo’s been back. Something within him tells him that as long as Kyungsoo is around, it won’t bother him anymore.

They are sitting in a secluded area of the courtyard together, eating something Kyungsoo cooked and brought – Jongin vaguely recalls it being called something like spaghetti kimchi? He’s not sure – from home. They are eating in comfortable silence as they watch people walk across the courtyard from table to table, from table to trashcan and back to table, from lunch-line to table to trashcan to table again. It’s been a few minutes since their conversations have ended, although Jongin finds himself completely at ease and filled with a sort of happiness that he can’t place – certainly one that he can barely contain.

It becomes evident on his face in the form of a giant grin as he finishes his food and places the empty container on the ground next to him; leans back on his hands, legs stretching out on the grass before him. Something like a satisfied sigh makes its way past his lips from his throat and he sees Kyungsoo shift to look at him from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t mind it, although when Kyungsoo keeps staring for a while longer he turns his head and asks, “What?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t respond immediately. There’s a pause right before he says, “Nothing. I was just thinking about our childhood and how much you’ve changed.” Jongin frowns, his head to the side, still leaning back on his hands. “Is that a bad thing?” he asks, to which Kyungsoo hurriedly shakes his head and says, “No, no, it’s not a bad thing at all.” He stops, seems to think about something as he places his own food container off to the side, and then blurts out, “I’ve missed you so much Jongin-ah.”

Jongin goes to give Kyungsoo some smartass comeback, although at the sight of Kyungsoo’s serious expression the words die on his tongue. His own face falls into an expression similar to Kyungsoo’s, and so they sit there and stare at each other for a while in silence, a million things communicated in the space between them through their gazes alone. When the silence is broken, it’s broken by Jongin, and he plays off some of the things he knows Kyungsoo will understand without him having to say it aloud.

“I missed you a lot too, hyung.” It hurt so bad while you were gone.

“I didn’t play with many other kids when you left.” I was lonely.

“I basically kept to myself and didn’t talk much.” I kept thinking about how you left.

Kyungsoo is silent for a while, and Jongin can tell that he’s absorbing what he’s just said. When Kyungsoo speaks again, he says something that has Jongin brightening almost instantly.

“Do you want me to make it better?” I can kiss your boo-boo if it still hurts.

Jongin nods and Kyungsoo smiles, and then lightly kisses the tips of his fingers and presses it against Jongin’s chest, right over where his heart is. Then, he pulls Jongin into a tight hug and Jongin buries his face into Kyungsoo’s shoulder and breathes in the familiar scent. He still finds it unbelievable that, even after five years, Kyungsoo still smells the same as before. When Kyungsoo pulls back, he flashes Jongin a smile and asks, “Better?” to which Jongin smiles back and nods. “Way better.”

--------------------

It reaches a new level three years later.

Jongin is now eighteen years old, almost six feet tall and, consequently, quite a few inches taller than Kyungsoo. He’s just turned eighteen, actually, and Kyungsoo nineteen a few days beforehand. They’re slowly but surely approaching the end of their high school years – Kyungsoo especially, because he’s graduating the following year. And they’ve both grown in more ways than just the physical. And they’ve grown even closer than they were when they were children. So much closer.

And maybe that’s why Jongin feels his heart pounding. Hard. In his chest every time he steals a glance at Kyungsoo. They’re not doing anything special; just relaxing in the living room at Jongin’s house, watching the same shows they watch every week. Still, Jongin feels something is off – and he’s certain that it’s not necessarily in a bad way. Maybe it’s the incessantly rapid beat of his heart in his chest. Maybe there’s a draft coming in from an open window. He’s not sure. But he knows he doesn’t particularly dislike it.

He steals another glance at Kyungsoo, feels the way his heart pauses, drops, and then slams back into his ribcage again. Hard. A small, barely perceptible sound manages to escape, and he almost jumps in surprise when Kyungsoo whips his head around to look at him, brows furrowed into a questioning frown. “Did you say something, Jongin-ah?” he asks, to which Jongin hurriedly shakes his head. Kyungsoo does not seem convinced. He raises a thick, dark eyebrow and presses, “Really? You really didn’t say anything?”

When Jongin nods again, Kyungsoo goes back to studying the younger’s face, and Jongin, for some reason, feels his face heating up. “Jongin-ah, are you okay?” Kyungsoo asks a few fractions of a second later. Jongin swallows thickly, unsure of what to respond because his heart is really out of control right now with the way it’s slamming against his ribcage – almost as if it wants to shatter its way out of his sternum. “Uh,” he begins, voice coming out uncertain. He clears his throat in an attempt to make himself sound less croaky, although it only does so much.

Either way, he barely gets another sound out before Kyungsoo says, “You don’t look so good.” The older of the two pauses, narrows his large eyes, and then asks Jongin, “Are you in pain?”

This, Jongin can answer, and so he shakes his head hurriedly, trying to alleviate the worry that is plastered all over his hyung’s face. “No,” he says to complement it, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, adds, “Actually, I’m not sure what this feeling is, hyung.” Kyungsoo’s only response is to purse his lips and hum in thought, putting a finger to his chin. Jongin absentmindedly notices the way the elder’s bow-shaped lips subtly curve into the expression before he realizes he’s staring and shifts his gaze to Kyungsoo’s eyes.

Kyungsoo seems to notice, for he drops the finger by his chin and asks, “Do you want me to kiss you to see if it’ll make it better?” The proposal seems innocent enough, especially considering the sort of friendship they have with each other, where hugs and kisses on injuries are as normal to them as discussing the day’s weather, and so Jongin just nods and sits to wait for the gentle kiss he receives whenever he’s hurt.

He is caught completely off guard, however, when Kyungsoo leans forward and slants his bow-shaped lips over his own. As usual, his lips are gentle and warm, tender and careful, although this time they don’t make Jongin feel better. As a matter of fact, they make the feeling within him intensify tenfold, and it suddenly feels as if there are a trillion butterflies fluttering about in his core. The feeling in his gut grows worse in the most insanely pleasurable of ways, and as Kyungsoo pulls back Jongin finds that his eyes are the size of the moon.

He looks at Kyungsoo questioningly, and feels the way his stomach seems to explode in another trillion butterflies at the way Kyungsoo blushes, averts his gaze, and asks, “Did that make it better?” Before he can think of what he’s doing, Jongin responds, “Actually no, hyung; that made it worse.”

Kyungsoo’s head shoots up to look back at Jongin, face worried and more than a little crestfallen. Jongin feels his stomach clench uncomfortably at the sight, although he ignores it and continues. “The funny thing is hyung,” he says, “When you kissed me and made it worse, it felt good.”

The look of confusion that crosses Kyungsoo’s face is quickly followed by a knowing look, and then a soft and joyous laugh from the elder that leaves Jongin sitting on the couch confused. “Hyung, why are you laughing,” Jongin asks a few seconds later as he furrows his brows and watches Kyungsoo straighten, grinning that heart-shaped smile that Jongin finds so comforting and strangely endearing all at once.

“Oh my god, Jongin-ah, you can be so stupid sometimes,” Kyungsoo spouts, and Jongin feels something like hurt settling into his core, beginning to replace the butterflies. He frowns and opens his mouth to say something only to be silenced by Kyungsoo’s mouth on his own again. The kiss is still gentle and warm and tender and careful, although this one lasts longer than the last one – a lot longer actually, and when Kyungsoo pulls away this time he is smiling, eyes shining with something that Jongin can’t quite place although that seems vaguely familiar, and Jongin himself has another two trillion butterflies fluttering about in his stomach again. He looks down at Kyungsoo, still confused with his stomach doing back-flips, and is caught even further off guard when Kyungsoo laughs at him again and says, “You really are something.”

Jongin’s scowl deepens. He’s so confused it almost hurts, and the way Kyungsoo is acting isn’t making it any better. “God, Jongin, how dense can you be,” Kyungsoo laughs out half a minute later before pulling the younger into a hug and burying his head into the latter’s chest. He releases a content sigh and Jongin, unsure but enjoying the way Kyungsoo fits into him, wraps his arms around the smaller boy both out of reflex and some internal driving force that he can’t quite place. He stares down at the top of Kyungsoo’s head, waiting for the guy to explain whatever it is that he’s going on about.

It takes a few minutes, but Kyungsoo eventually does move his head back to look up at Jongin. He smiles when he sees Jongin’s still-confused face, leans up and pecks Jongin’s lips one last time, and then says a phrase that has Jongin’s heart stuttering.

“I love you too, Jongin-ah.”

Jongin is rooted to his spot as the phrase sinks in, the image of Kyungsoo still smiling fondly at him registering somewhere in his mind as he processes what he’s just heard. When it finally clicks, Jongin feels the butterflies come back with a force and then grins broadly. His heart is pounding in his chest as he pulls Kyungsoo back into his embrace, kissing the top of the boy’s head. “My god, hyung,” Jongin mutters into the said boy’s hair, “What would I do without you?”

He feels Kyungsoo grinning into the t-shirt over his chest and then hears Kyungsoo laugh briefly before retorting, “You’d probably never even know about the best kinds of medicine.” Jongin shakes his head, a fond smile on his face as he tightens his arms around Kyungsoo’s torso, placing a hand on the back of the elder’s head. “Shut up, hyung.”

Kyungsoo does shut up, but only after asking, “Is it better now?” to which Jongin grins and responds, “All better.”

The rest of the night is spent curled up on the couch together watching movies, and when Jongin’s parents get home and Jongin’s mother sees the two boys fast asleep on the couch, she turns and gives her husband a knowing smile.

Guys, how bad is it that I wanted to add “You owe me twenty bucks.” to the end after the last sentence? LOL I don’t know guys please excuse my cheesy sense of humor. I was actually really tempted, but I decided not to because I felt like it would ruin all that I was building up to (even though I’m not sure how to feel about this ending. Meh.).

Anyway, guys, I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it C: (seriously, KaiSoo is adorable and fun to write ^^ Ahem). Either way, thanks for reading Lovelies! C: x3

Fun Fact: I was meant to upload this yesterday, but then my internet got cut off. Thankfully it was restored today (13.26.8) so we're all good now C:
Again, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it C:

P.S: Image belongs to its rightful owner (i.e. not me)