Kyungsoo has a dream. A fantasy, really.

His fantasy is of a boy. A boy with smooth, tanned skin, and brunet hair that flows in waves across his forehead. A boy with chocolate eyes, and a smile that seems to cover his entire face. A boy who smells of cinnamon and is shrouded with mystery.

Kyungsoo knows this boy isn’t real, but that never stops him from thinking about him as often as possible. He often wonders if he should give the boy a name, but he feels it would be strange to name someone he doesn’t know. He usually settles on calling him Kai, but a part of Kyungsoo always remembers that’s not his real name. Countless hours have been spent on trying to think of Kai’s real name, but Kyungsoo only ever draws blanks. He’s sure it begins with a “J,” though.

Not much really ever happens in his fantasies about Kai. Most of the time, they’re just walking around the city, talking about who knows what, going who knows where. Kyungsoo has tried to imagine kissing the boy countless times, but he always stops himself before he can, and Kai ends up fading away in a wisp of grey smoke. Sometimes, Kyungsoo thinks it’s for the best. If he never manages to kiss Kai, the mystery would never be ruined. Most times, however, he just wishes Kai was real so he could find out just how soft those lips really are.

Oh, how Kyungsoo wishes Kai was real.

School is what Kyungsoo hates the most, but not because of reasons like homework or bullies; Kyungsoo hates school because it keeps him from thinking about his dream boy. School, in Kyungsoo’s mother’s eyes, is the place for thinking, concentrating and learning, not daydreaming or fantasizing. When Kyungsoo is in school, he has to stay on task. But how is he supposed to stay on task when there’s a gorgeous boy walking around in his head? Most of the time, he manages to stop his mind from wandering, and only when the final bell rings will he allow his imagination to run free.

Maybe today, Kyungsoo will think about meeting Kai at the bus stop. He’ll tell Kai all the things that went wrong with his day, and the few things that went right. Kai would nod along, making a few comments here and there, and maybe he’d take Kyungsoo’s hand and entwine their fingers together, pulling Kyungsoo closer in order to whisper something into his ear. Kyungsoo would smile and maybe nudge Kai in the ribs and tell him to stop because he’s making a show of himself in public. Maybe Kai would listen, or maybe he’d decide to alter his voice from a careless whisper to something a little lower and hotter, muttering something about wanting to take Kyungsoo home and throw him on the bed, kiss every inch of his body and “Do what with where?!” and Kyungsoo would find it extremely difficult to get Kai’s mind back out of the gutter.

Kyungsoo was especially relieved that afternoon when the bell rang to signify the end of school. It was the end of a particularly long week, and he couldn’t wait to get home and spend the weekend lost in his imagination. He grabbed his backpack from his locker as quickly as he could and he ran out of the school, eager to get home. He waited by the bus stop as patiently as he could, but it’s often hard to be patient when you have something as special as Kai to think about.

Kyungsoo looked down at his watch for the umpteenth time, catching a mild hint of cinnamon in the air as he sighed at the fact that the bus was 20 minutes late. He looked back up with a frown, glancing down the road in order to check if the bus was coming.

“Excuse me?” a person off to his side mumbled. “Do you know when the bus will arrive?”

That voice… Kyungsoo had heard that voice somewhere before. It was a male voice – deep, yet not too deep, and rich like coffee. It was definitely familiar. Kyungsoo turned to look at the owner of the voice, and he almost screamed once he saw who it was. Smooth, tanned skin, brunet hair that flowed in waves, chocolate eyes...

“K-Kai?!” Kyungsoo stuttered, hardly believing his eyes.

The boy, however, did not respond how Kyungsoo had hoped. “Excuse me?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing in the process. “I… think you’ve made a mistake. My name is Jongin…”

Jongin. Kyungsoo knew it began with a J! “Oh, sorry…” he mumbled softly as he fiddled nervously with his fingers. “You just… look like someone I know.” He inwardly frowned, extremely confused as to how Kai, the Kai from his imagination, the Kai who’s not real, could possibly be standing right in front of him.

“Sorry, but I’m not him,” Kai – no, Jongin – replied. “Look, I just wanted to know if you knew when the bus would get here…”

Kyungsoo shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t,” he sighed. “I’ve been waiting here for 20 minutes and it still hasn’t come. Maybe it’s broken down somewhere along the road.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Jongin nodded with a sigh. “I don’t think I’ll be able to wait who knows how long for a bus we’re not even sure will come… want to walk with me?” he asked as he turned his body slightly to gesture down the street.

“Uh… y-yeah, sure,” Kyungsoo mumbled, smiling to himself as he shuffled off behind the other.

Kyungsoo tilted his head slightly as they walked, his mind racing at the thought of the boy stood beside him. How could Kai be real? Kai was a figment of Kyungsoo’s imagination, yet here he was, walking beside him and chatting about the bus as if it were the most normal thing. Sure, Kai was calling himself Jongin now, but that doesn’t mean they’re different people. They both look the same, sound the same, and they even walk the same. How could they–

“You wanna go to the park?” Jongin asked, abruptly halting Kyungsoo’s train of thought. “It’s a Friday, right? And, judging by the fact you were waiting at the bus stop for 20 minutes without any signs of impatience, you probably don’t have plans. We could hang out at the park if you wanted, just to pass the time.”

Actually, Kyungsoo did have plans for that night, but he wasn’t exactly going to tell Jongin what they were. He was pretty sure that telling Jongin that he had planned on fantasizing about an imaginary person who looked exactly like him would probably freak the boy out. Besides, he had the real life Jongin right in front of his face, so why on Earth would he want to leave for someone imaginary? “Okay, sure,” Kyungsoo agreed, changing direction to walk towards the park.

When they arrived, Jongin immediately ran to the swings, calling behind him for Kyungsoo to follow.

“You’re like a little boy, Jongin,” Kyungsoo chuckled once he caught up, and Jongin simply grinned back.

“It’s one of my charms,” he shrugged, patting the extra swing to signal for Kyungsoo to sit down before swaying backwards and forwards on his own.

Kyungsoo took the swing beside Jongin and sighed softly, tilting his head slightly as the other rambled on about the bus route and the weather and waiting for the bus in the rain. His warm voice enveloped Kyungsoo like soft, downy blankets on a winter’s night, lulling him into a daze as the other swung gently beside him.

Kyungsoo thought that Jongin’s words flowed like a stream. He coursed effortlessly along the riverbed that was the Korean language, somehow bringing the mundane syllables to life better than anyone else Kyungsoo had ever spoken to. His lips formed the sounds with such ease, it was almost as if he had been born to speak and do nothing else.

Now that Kyungsoo thought about it, he realized that Jongin did most things in this way. Jongin walked with a grace akin to a dancer’s, and every movement was gentle like the wave of a ribbon.

 “Kyungsoo?” Jongin’s suddenly loud voice jolted Kyungsoo out of his daze, and he almost jumped when he saw how close Jongin was. “You kind of blanked out on me, there,” he smiled as he sat back on the swing.

Kyungsoo nodded in response before quickly shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about homework,” he lied, furrowing his eyebrows shortly after. “Wait, did you just call me by my name? How did you–”

“Let’s go sit under the tree!” Jongin exclaimed before hurriedly grabbing Kyungsoo’s hand and dragging him to the willow tree on the far side of the park. Kyungsoo didn’t know if Jongin was deliberately avoiding his unfinished question, or if he was just really into willow trees; it probably wasn’t the latter.

Once they arrived at the tree, Jongin immediately sat down and leaned back against the trunk, Kyungsoo following suit soon after. Jongin reached out to take the smaller boy's hand, smiling softly as he laced their fingers together.

“Why did you do that?” Kyungsoo asked quietly,  his voice barely more than a whisper.

Jongin simply smiled in response. “No reason,” he shrugged, tilting his head down to look at their entwined fingers with a small smile on his face. “It just felt like the thing to do.”

Kyungsoo’s lips were unable to form any more words, so he simply nodded and looked away instead. He sighed softly as he rested his head back against the tree, breathing deeply and reveling in the comfort radiated by the boy beside him.

“Can I kiss you?” came Jongin’s sudden voice through the silence that had settled between them. Kyungsoo quickly whipped around to look at him.

“C-can you what?” Kyungsoo stuttered, words failing him once again.

“Can I kiss you?” Jongin repeated, this time more of a statement than a question.

Kyungsoo bit his lip lightly as his breath caught in his throat. Could this really be the first time he gets to kiss Kai? Even though, in actuality, he’s not technically Kai, Jongin is as close as Kyungsoo is going to get. The low hanging branches would block them from prying eyes, so it wouldn’t be a public spectacle, and besides, when would Kyungsoo get an opportunity to kiss his dream boy ever again? He remained silent for a moment longer before nodding a little, the movement barely noticeable in the shadow of the leaves. “Yes, you can kiss me,” he whispered, swallowing thickly before moving forward into Jongin’s vicinity. He glimpsed Jongin’s small smile in the second before he closed his eyes, his breathing coming to a halt as he waited to feel Jongin’s lips on his for the first time.

The soft breeze filtered through the trees once again as Kyungsoo patiently waited, and he was slightly surprised to realize that Jongin’s cinnamon aroma was slightly less noticeable now. He figured it was because they had been together for quite a while now and Kyungsoo had gotten used to it, but he quickly pushed that thought from his mind and prepared himself for the kiss that was soon to come. A few seconds of waiting was all it took for Kyungsoo to notice something was wrong. He wondered why Jongin was taking so long, and worries began chasing themselves around his head.

Maybe Jongin was having second thoughts.

Maybe Jongin was silently laughing.

Maybe Jongin had run off altogether, leaving Kyungsoo to sit there with his eyes shut like an idiot.

Kyungsoo hoped this wasn’t the case, but what he saw when he opened his eyes was far less desirable than anything he had thought of.

Instead of seeing a young boy with dark hair, dark eyes and a teasing smile, all he saw was a wisp of grey smoke illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the leaves as it drifted away with the cinnamon-less wind.

The next Friday after that, Kyungsoo was once again waiting for his bus to take him home. A light rain pitter-pattered onto the ground, small droplets catching on his hood and rolling off the brim as the smell of wet tarmac enveloped his senses. He sniffed softly, reaching up to wipe a drop of water from his nose before returning his hand back to his pocket.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Jongin all week. The boy had seemed so solid, so real, that it was almost impossible for him to be anything but. When they touched, Kyungsoo could feel the pressure on his skin, he could taste the cinnamon in the back of his throat. Everything about Jongin seemed so lifelike, it was almost too farfetched for him to have been imaginary.

Kyungsoo pushed his thoughts aside when he sensed a person stand beside him at the empty bus stop. He wasn’t the least bit bothered about who it was, since he knew that the person didn’t know him. If they did, they would have announced themselves as they–

“Kyungsoo?” a timid voice whispered almost inaudibly. Kyungsoo stayed still for a moment, a sigh leaving his lips as he turned to look up at the man beside him. He had to tilt his head up slightly in order to look in the other’s eyes, and it took him a while in the dim light of the dreary afternoon to realize who the person was.

Tanned skin, dark hair, and a lingering hint of cinnamon.

Kyungsoo has a dream. A reality, really.

His reality is a boy. A boy with smooth, tanned skin, and brunet hair that flows in waves across his forehead. A boy with chocolate eyes, and a smile that seems to cover his entire face. A boy who smells of cinnamon and is shrouded with mystery.

Kyungsoo is forever grateful that the boy is (somewhat) real, and spends most of his time thinking about him. The boy calls himself Jongin, and Kyungsoo thinks that’s a very nice name, mainly because it’s his.

Jongin only ever appears on Friday afternoons at Kyungsoo’s usual bus stop, and he stays until the following Sunday before he evaporates into a cloud of smoke. Kyungsoo used to think this was incredibly odd, but as time passed he slowly grew accustomed to the strange existence of the impossible boy.

Jongin had once told Kyungsoo that the first time they met was the first time he remembered existing. He saw Kyungsoo at the bus stop and was immediately drawn to him, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. It was only after a short time of being together did he remember who Kyungsoo was. Kyungsoo supposes that the energy it took for Jongin to be willed into life must have fogged his memory for a while – or something like that.

Kyungsoo doesn’t really like to think about it much because it makes his head hurt. Instead, he prefers to think about the way Jongin moves and speaks and touches, the way his laughter fills the room with it’s melodious sound, and how warm he feels when they really do kiss.

And Kyungsoo figures that after all he’s done to get to this point, a wisp of cinnamon smoke is really a small price to pay for having 3 days a week of being happy, truly happy, with the boy he loves.