“I wish you could answer me,” Jongin murmured, as he sat by Kyungsoo’s side. “I...I want to hear your voice again. Even if it’s just to hear you say that I’m an idiot.” He gave a half-hearted chuckle, masking his roiling emotions underneath. If Kyungsoo really could answer him, there would probably be many more things he’d call him than just an idiot.

Jongin gave a melancholy sigh. “I wonder...if you were to wake up now...would you be glad to see me?” he mused, reaching forward and gently taking his hand. “Even if you weren’t glad...I still want you to wake up.” He pressed the limp hand against his cheek, trying to imagine that he and Kyungsoo were back at their special place by the river, before everything had gone wrong, and that Kyungsoo was really touching his face under his own strength.

“Please wake up.”

-

Kyungsoo laughed and tenderly reached forward, pressing his hand against his cheek.

“You’re crazy, Kim Jongin,” he murmured, leaning forward. Jongin closed his eyes, savoring Kyungsoo’s touch. He felt his hyung press his lips against his, the two sharing a gentle kiss as the river rushed on beside them. They kissed each other tenderly; not stopping until Kyungsoo broke away, shivering.

“S-so cold,” he murmured, pressing close against Jongin. He was right: the weather was turning colder, and their spot at the river was not as warm as it had been in the summer. The river itself was beginning to freeze over. Jongin wrapped his arms around him to warm him, trying to smother his own shivering.

“Cold,” Kyungsoo said again against Jongin’s neck. But suddenly, he pulled away, smiling. “Hey Jongin. Let’s go somewhere.”

“What?” Jongin wasn’t sure what Kyungsoo meant. But all of a sudden he had begun to bristle with nervousness.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Kyungsoo repeated, with an excited smile. “Like, for coffee or something. Come on, it’s freezing out here!”

“Uh…” Jongin swallowed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want coffee. Or that he didn’t want to be with Kyungsoo, or that he wasn’t cold. But this would be the first time they would go out in public together. Where would Kyungsoo want to go? To his side of town, where all the fancy, upper-class people were? Jongin would be mortified to show his face there. He was so ordinary, scruffy, so...bourgeoisie compared to them. And not even bourgeoisie, he thought with a jolt, remembering what it was he did for a living.

And if Kyungsoo was okay with crossing over to Jongin’s side of town, that...could entail some problems. Nobody knew about Jongin’s new relationship with Kyungsoo. Not even Sehun, who was Jongin’s best friend. There had been times when he had wanted to tell him, but had backed down, afraid of what his friend would think. Sehun hated the rich folks just as much as Jongdae did. What would he think of Jongin being with one of them?

“Hey,” Kyungsoo said, noticing Jongin’s hesitation. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

“Um...yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” he said quickly, forcing a smile.

“So then let’s go!” Kyungsoo stood up, brushing off his pants. “I know a place.”

Jongin internally let out a sigh of relief. So they’d be crossing over into Kyungsoo’s turf. He was still nervous and reluctant, but going into the business district was much more preferable to bringing Kyungsoo to the other side.

They made an interesting pair: Kyungsoo in casual khakis and a sweater, Jongin in faded jeans and a hoodie. But the two men walked in almost perfect synchronization. Anyone who might’ve seen them would have known right away that there was a definite connection between them.

But Jongin didn’t want to be seen. Not by anyone, and especially not his gang. He hadn’t once dared tell Kyungsoo about them, especially not now. But what if some of them were lurking around, and saw them? How would he explain himself to them? Or to Kyungsoo? He was nervous and jumpy the entire way there.

But when they entered the cheery little coffee shop, Jongin felt himself relax. This was a warm place, a warm and happy place, decorated nicely and filled with the smell of something baking. Peering around, he saw that there was nobody else in the place except for the person behind the counter. He forced his stiff muscles to relax and rolled his shoulders. Nobody would catch him here.

“Come on,” Kyungsoo said, taking Jongin’s hand and leading him to the counter. “This is my favourite place!” The two took seats at the counter, and the barista, an older man with round cheeks came over, smiling.

“Hi Kyungsoo,” he said: obviously Kyungsoo was a regular here. He politely nodded to Jongin. “What can I do for you guys today?”

Kyungsoo smiled and ordered a cappuccino. Jongin felt a little awkward as he did, looking down at the well-polished counter to hide his blush. Kyungsoo then turned to him, smiling.

“What would you like?”

“M-me?” Jongin stammered. “I can get my own.”

“Jongin. Come on. I’m your hyung.”

“I really can though!” Jongin protested, feeling the flush rise up even higher. “You don’t have to-”

He was cut off by Kyungsoo’s lips enveloping his in a warm, suddenly passionate kiss, his hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in. Jongin’s eyes went wide, and he surrendered to the kiss. He was speechless, wide-eyed and red when Kyungsoo pulled away. Kyungsoo gave a triumphant smirk, having overpowered Jongin, turning back to the round-cheeked man behind the counter.

“He’ll have the same, Minseok-ssi!” Jongin submitted, his red face turned towards the floor.

“Coming right up!” the barista, Minseok, it must’ve been, said with a knowing smile. “You guys are really cute!”

They all laughed. But Jongin felt a little bit uncomfortable, letting Kyungsoo pay. Did he pay because he thought that maybe Jongin couldn’t afford it? He quickly diffused the thought though. This was Kyungsoo. His hyung. He didn’t think that. Kyungsoo would never disrespect him.

But he would if he found out, a voice in his head said, momentarily sickening him with fear.

They stayed a long time at the cafe, laughing and talking, sometimes with Minseok joining in too. When they left, it was time for the cafe to close, and it was now dark.

“I can walk you home,” Kyungsoo offered, taking Jongin’s hand, but he abruptly moved back.

“T-that’s okay!” Jongin burst out, a forced smile on his face. He couldn’t let Kyungsoo do that! Someone would be sure to hear or see.

“Are you sure?” His hyung looked puzzled, staring at Jongin with his wide brown eyes.

“Yes, it’s fine. But thank you. And thanks for the coffee too.”

“My pleasure,” Kyungsoo murmured, taking a step towards him and wrapping his arms around his middle. “I’ll...see you tomorrow?”

Jongin’s arms went around the shorter man, holding him tight. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

-

Jongin was distracted as he walked back to his apartment. His mind was full of thoughts. He had enjoyed being out with Kyungsoo today, almost as much as he always enjoyed just being at the river. It had been fun, and he had loved seeing Kyungsoo out in his natural habitat. But at the same time, he felt as if he had taken a step out of his safe zone. Now that Kyungsoo had left it too, it was going to be harder to keep his identity and background a secret from him.

And what if his gang found out? Jongin would be disgraced. He had lived with these guys for two years: they had become his friends, his family. By being with Kyungsoo, was he...betraying them? They all hated upper-class business hounds! He had, too. He hated them with fiery passion. In a weird way, he even blamed them for his mother’s death. He had lived alone with his mom as long as he remembered, and they had been dirt poor. Despite having very little money for rent, food and the like, she had insisted that Jongin continue his schooling, desperate as he was to drop out and help her. She desired him to have a decent education, so he wouldn’t end up like her. When he had graduated high school and had turned eighteen, she decided that she had had enough of living poor and that Jongin could now take care of himself. Jongin had been out working one of the many part-time jobs he had during school when he came home to find his mother, lying limp on the floor, a dirty piece of paper and a bottle of something next to her. He had read the note, his mother’s last words to him before she overdosed on heroin and alcohol, and then went running to the landlord, screaming like a wild thing.

He knew his blame was irrational. But people like them- they didn’t understand what it had been like, growing up as a child with nothing. They didn’t understand what it was like having to toil every day at laborious, low-paying jobs just to scrape up enough for rent, or what it was like to have your own mother leave you helpless and scared. He hated them for living an easy life. He had always thought they were all the same.

Until he had met Kyungsoo. After meeting Kyungsoo, all his hatred became trivial, almost childish, and he began to feel even more ashamed at himself for all he did. He could only hope and pray that Kyungsoo would never find out. If he did...would he leave him, not wanting to associate with such a scumbag anymore? Jongin couldn’t take that risk. He didn’t want to lose Kyungsoo.

He loved him. 

-

Jongin shut the door behind him. It rattled loudly: the hinges were probably loose. Again. The whole place was a ramshackle shoebox. It was dark: that meant that Sehun probably wasn’t home. Jongin shuffled inside, flipping on the lights and watching them flicker a few times before turning on completely. This place wasn’t a mansion. Hell, it wasn’t even in perfect condition. But Jongdae had kept to his bargain, and had gotten this place for him and Sehun when they were still young. He flopped onto the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes.

He was about to fall asleep when his phone rang, the sound jangling him awake. He scrambled up off the couch to get it. He never brought it with him when he was with Kyungsoo. If he took a call from the guys in front of him, Kyungsoo might get a hint, and he didn’t want to risk getting caught, or being found out.

Groggily, he answered. “Yeah?”

“Jongin!” An angry voice barked from the other side. “Where the hell are you? We were supposed to meet half an hour ago!”

“What?” Jongin muttered, rubbing his sleepy eyes and trying to focus. Meet? Meet where? For what?

Sehun’s voice answered his questions without him having to even voice them. “At the apartment! We’re supposed to do a job tonight you idiot!”

Oh no. Jongin smacked his forehead. He had completely forgotten. How could he forget when Jongdae had been reminding everyone all week? He felt his stomach lurch, and he d around for his jacket.

“I’ll be right there,” he said quickly, hanging up before Sehun could reply. He was going to get some hell for this. 

-

“What the , Jongin!”

He flinched, banging the door shut behind him, and turned to face the familiar group of people, his face burning with shame. Even Chanyeol, the most good-natured out of all them (and that wasn’t saying much) was fixing him with a hard stare.

Jongdae moved towards Jongin, with a look as close it got to worry on his face. “You’ve never been late before, man. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Jongin muttered, restlessly kicking a stray empty pizza box on the floor. The place was littered with them, and other various fast food/takeout boxes. “I was just, y’know, resting.”

Jongdae seemed to accept the excuse. There were people here after all that were almost permanently tired from working several jobs besides their robberies, and those always tired and sleeping from their heavy use of heroin and the other drugs they bought back for themselves. Luhan, now dead asleep on the couch, was one of them.

Jongdae nodded at Jongin again, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s alright. Just maybe lay off the dope for a while?” Everybody around the room snickered, and Jongin boiled. He may have done dirty deeds in the past, but he had never once tried any drugs. It reminded him too much of his mother and how she had died. He held back a shudder.

“So listen up, guys,” Jongdae was saying now, motioning for the other seven guys to move in closer. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

-

“Disgusting.”

Kyungsoo looked up from his breakfast to look at his father. Or look at the paper that his father had barricaded himself behind. On the rare mornings when he was around, he would join his son at the long, elaborate dining table for breakfast, Kyungsoo sitting at one end, and he at the other. But never without his newspaper. Businessmen needed to know what was going on in the world after all.

“What is it, Dad?” Kyungsoo asked.

“A colleague of mine, Kim Sunggyu was robbed the other night. On the main road into the city.”

“Really?” Kyungsoo replied, slightly interested. But only slightly. This thing happened all the time, didn’t it? “Where was Mr. Kim going? Into or out of the city?”

“Into the city. Which makes sense, since he was passing through the slum.” Kyungsoo winced at his father’s harsh word. It wasn’t really a slum. That part of the city was made up of a bunch of apartment buildings that just needed to be painted and repaired. It was hardly a slum.

“Have they caught the ones who did it?”

“No. It seems as though they cannot be identified. Carrion creatures,” his father scoffed, folding up the newspaper. “I tell you, anyone who comes from that part of the city is bad news.”

Kyungsoo bristled, thinking of Jongin. Jongin lived there, on the other side of the river. But he was different: he was kind, understanding, gentle and so wonderful to be around. They had been together almost every day now. Several times before, Kyungsoo had thought about introducing him to his father, but quickly thought better of it. Dad would have been horrified to learn about his son’s relationship with someone from there. And Jongin probably wouldn’t warm up to the idea either. He was pretty strange lately, always jumpy whenever they went out into town. Their trips to town were happening more often now, as it was too cold to sit by their place at the river.

“Well,” Kyungsoo said tentatively, taking a sip of coffee. “Not necessarily, Dad.” His father looked up from his plate, turning his familiar severe gaze onto Kyungsoo. “I mean,” he continued, meeker from his father’s stare, “not everyone there can be bad news. There’s got to be someone there who’s good. Or y-you know, honest...”

“Kyungsoo.” His father’s voice was stern, disapproving. “You don’t know what those people are like. They are…” his father trailed off, unable to find a word he felt that properly described them. “They’re not honorable, honest hard workers like us. They play dirty. They lie, cheat and steal. And you should never have anything to do with them.”

“But Dad, how do you know? What if you were to meet someone good and honest from that side of town? What then?”

“I have yet to meet anyone from that side of town and I do not intend to. We do not associate with those people and that is that. It’s the way things are.” Kyungsoo’s father adjusted his glasses, picking up his paper again. His voice was dismissive: he would not hear anything more from Kyungsoo on this subject.

“Y-yes, Dad.” Kyungsoo murmured, staring down at his napkin in his lap. He had known his father well all these years, but right now, despite everything he had ever said to him, even during his childhood, Kyungsoo knew his father couldn’t be any more wrong. There were good, honest people over there. Kyungsoo knew one. Kyungsoo loved him.

“Good. Now sit up straight. You’re slouching again. It’s unprofessional.”