Kyungsoo glances out of the coffee shop, towards the busy street, while Kai is sipping at the weird, green-ish coffee that he forced Kyungsoo to order, because it looks cool and you are a jerk for never letting me try one of those in your manga.  There’s a bunch of tourists getting psyched about the history of this place, oh my god and taking photos of a Buddhist temple across the street which, Kyungsoo is pretty certain, was built last year.

He wonders exactly why there’s such a big difference between normal people and tourists and why the latter are always so annoyngly dumb, when the guy sitting across from him says, “I found your list.”

Maybe if Kyunsoo was a list person, he’d have a harder time figuring this statement out. If there were grocery lists, or pros and cons lists… but there aren’t any.  So his mind immediately goes back to that one list from two weeks ago. On the night, before the day, when he woke up with Kai and his gun inches to his face.

It was the 2^nd of November and Kyungsoo’s life has not been easy since that day. For one, it became cold since then. It hasn’t rain, as he hoped and the atmosphere is thick and awfully humid, making the ends of his hair twist out, like he’s been sleeping in an uncomfortable place.

Which is a complete lie, because the couch in Kyungsoo’s living room is very restful - his editor’s words, not his- and big and made of a soft fabric that warms him up without being scratchy.  It might be green which, admittedly, is not his favorite color (Kyungsoo is an artist working mostly with black ink, yet even he knows the color green symbolizes envy), but it’s pleasant to sleep on and sit on and spill coffee on, when no one is looking.

Of course Kai gets the bed.

Kai always gets the bed and it’s not even because of the gun. Sometimes, Kyungsoo wishes he was being threatened with that gun, only to have an excuse as to why he is letting the boy bulldoze through his life. He’s got a gun, it’s not like I have a choice, Baekhyun and Chanyeol would have a rave with that statement. Joonmyun, his editor, would most likely faint and maybe call the police. Possibly not in that order.

And Kyungsoo would have a perfectly good explanation about why the hell he has been babysitting Kai for the past two weeks.

He hasn’t babysat before. Both his brother and his brother’s wife are acutely aware of his ability to drop a baby on its head and also, Kyungsoo suspects, they’re worried he might infect their kid with his gay. It’s a suspicion he’s too afraid to confirm, so he doesn’t ask; just sends birthday cards and Christmas cards and calls some times.

Anyway, Kai doesn’t seem to worry about being dropped on his face, or catching Kyungsoo’s gay, or something similar. In fact all that guy ever worries about is, why do I have to wake up so early, and what’s for dinner, why is there pink coffee with pineapple syrup, can’t I sleep for five more minutes, when is the next Iron Man movie coming out, five more minutes, can’t I.

So they end up doing everything. Kai gets five more minutes (ten, twenty, fifty more minutes…) of sleep, he gets fried chicken and kimchi spaghetti and pizza for dinner. They order a different color of coffee every day (fun fact, it’s never brown) and they ask for extra pineapple syrup, because Kai ends up loving it. They watch two Iron Man movies at the neighborhood theatre and even take the bus all the way to Doksan-dong to see Iron Man 2, which , but Kai doesn’t believe it until he starts yawning during the movie. Also Kai gets the bed. And finishes all the clean towels in four days. And looks through Kyungsoo’s stuff. And finds the list.

“What about my list?” Kyungsoo tries to make his voice smooth and calm and, basically, not squeaky. “I just used it to write the story better. I thought you didn’t care.”

That isn’t a lie.

Kai doesn’t care about his whole life being an illustrated manga series called Black Falcon. He is, quote, okay with being fictional.

Kyungsoo bets actual money that no one would ever believe that statement to be real. They would laugh at him for repeating it.

Only, Kai did say this. Said it so, very clearly and not while making the wounded face he makes when someone rattles him to the Syndicate; or when Kyungsoo pushes him off his bed at eleven in the morning (Kyungsoo uses simple present, cause it’s sort of a recurring thing). Still, Kai had said it with a straight face, smile curving his mouth at the ends. It wasn’t a lie.

Kyungsoo had been reading a book about digital screentoning  and Kai was engrossed in reading his own life story in volumes. So Kyungsoo had asked, are you really okay with being fictional.

The boy had shrugged, I don’t really care, I mean, if I had left a family inside this book, maybe I would, but you didn’t give me one.

Kyungsoo was pretty sure the whole no family fiasco was a sensitive matter for Kai and if he passed it off as something unimportant, he did it only to act nonchalant. You must hate me for making you life so bad, he told him, honestly. 

I could do that. Kai nodded, slowly, carefully, like the words were breakable. But you’re the one who came up with my life. I told you, I have no one. No family, no close friends, no nothing. You’re the only person I’m close to. Maybe it’s weird, but I can work with that. I’m okay being fictional.

It was hard to believe that Kai was something that came out of Kyungsoo’s head.

Kyungsoo is always somewhat predictable. He doesn’t make mistakes; doesn’t act rashly. The few times he’s agreed to meet old classmates and they began joking with each other about that one incident during the school festival, you know which one I’m talking about, don’t act surprised, no one ever talked about him. Because Kyungsoo doesn’t have that embarrassing incident. What he has is effective and rational ways to deal with current problems. It’s a typical cause-and-effect logic, which works wonders for him.

And this logic is something Kai doesn’t follow. Didn’t follow when he was making comments like, so that’s how they smuggled those guns, you could have given me a hint about it, you know, took me ages to figure this out, while reading his own manga; and doesn’t follow right now, as he nods, “Yes, that’s right. I don’t. About the list, or about being fictional, I don’t care. I just wanted to say-”

He pauses and gives Kyungsoo a look from the corner of his eye, which might suggest mischief, but it might also be just a good, old side-look (you can never be sure with side-looks), before adding, “I think I prefer The Avengers now. Or maybe I’m just going through a superhero phase and I’ll eventually go back to Pirates of the Caribbean. Not sure.”

Kyungsoo wants to give him a characteristically are-you-serious look, but doesn’t make it that far.  

“Also, I’m gay. So you might want to add that to the list too.” Kai finishes (hopefully, because if there’s more Kyungsoo is going to shut his ears and go, la la la, I can’t hear a word you’re saying, in a perfect impersonation of  ‘the young child who is told Santa does not exist’).

“No, you’re not.” He settles with saying and that’s the adult version of stubborn denial, so it’s acceptable.

“Yes, I am.” Kai insists.

“No. You’re not.” It’s bordering to one of those pointless conversation where people end up screaming, yes I am, no, you’re not, yes, no, yes, no, yes until both parties get exhausted, or kicked out of the coffee shop.

And Kyungsoo doesn’t care what people think of him and his insanely hot fictional-come-to-life companion, but, okay, he hates controversies and gets startled by loud voices (Baekhyun calls him a delicate flower for that). He’d much rather skip the part where everyone is angry and no one makes sense and they get thrown out, to go straight to the point where they talk about it nicely.

“I’m pretty sure I know my own uality.” Kai seems to be having the same intention.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “But I was going to make you straight. That was the plan since the start.”

“Well, you must have taken some wrong turn, cause I’m pretty sure that the bikini girl in the poster over there, does nothing to my libido.” If that’s not a kick to the solar plexus, Kyungsoo doesn’t know what is.

“I’m gay.” Kai repeats and the girl with the polka-dotted bikini is winking at Kyungsoo from her poster, while he struggles to focus back on their conversation.

He can’t.

It feels like something just relocated inside his ribcage. A small movement, a tiny change in his heartbeat, which shouldn’t matter, but does. Like putting coffee in the fridge. Something has gone somewhere it was not meant to be and now Kyungsoo feels all wrong inside.

He swallows hard. “I didn’t make you like that, though. In the manga, you’ve never dated anyone. I never-”

“Yeah, what’s up with that, anyway? It’s been seventy three chapters and I still don’t have a boyfriend.” It’s difficult to make sipping from a plastic cup look begrudging, but Kai figures a way to do it.

“That’s because you’re straight- I mean, I was going to make you straight.” Kyungsoo hopes no one is eavesdropping on them, cause he’s pretty sure they’re going to lock him up if this conversations gets out.

 “I don’t have a girlfriend either.”  The dark-skinned guy scoffs. “Not that I wanted one.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t have a special someone either, but he’s not making such a big deal out of it. “I was going to give you one. Later on.”

“Liar.” Kai calls him out on it. “You weren’t. You wanted my life to be full of guns and dangers and criminals and no fun.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Kai hadn’t even met him, half a month ago.

Kyungsoo writes every detail of Kai’s adventures and Kai has no idea who Kyungsoo is, until, by a weird twist of fate, they come face to face (or gun to face, to be more accurate) in the real world. That’s just how things are.

Kyungsoo has a list about Kai and Kai has nothing about him.

“I just… do.” He replies. “I might not have a list about you, but I know how you think.” Kai says and Kyungsoo has a mini freakout, because suddenly his manga’s protagonist seems to have mind-reading skills, on top of everything else that Kyungsoo didn’t assign him to have. 

It’s a reasonable fear too, since Kyungsoo remembers how, in the beginning, while he was still planning out the story of Black Falcon, he was considering superpowers. He clearly took them off the table later, when he made up his mind about the genre of the manga. But still, what if, just like the fiasco about his uality, Kai didn’t get the memo and became a superhero instead?

“Look, I can’t explain this very well…” Apparently, the boy mistakes his silence for confusion, because he bites his lips again and looks around him like he’s waiting for some fictional, white-bearded mentor to pop out of thin air and explain everything instead of him. Or make them both wax on, right hand - wax off, left hand, like Mr. Miyagi from the Karate Kid. 

When that doesn’t happen, and after Kyungsoo plays the entire training scene from the movie in his head, Kai speak again. “It just… I can understand you. I… When you make a face like this- yes, this one,”

He straightens up, expression bright, and motions at Kyungsoo. “I recognize this face. Even though I’ve never seen it before, I know it means uncertain and worried and upset. I feel it, and your thoughts too, in my head, like they’re memories. Your worried face makes me feel like the time I run into a set-up. When you’re angry at me, it feels like I’m sitting alone in my old apartment. And the times you- the times you laugh remind me of my motorbike and how it felt to run in an empty highway.”

 Kai huffs out a breath and Kyungsoo wants to tell him to hurry up and continue. To say more, or hypnotize him, until nothing makes sense anymore and Kyungsoo vehemently believes that the handsome boy sitting on the table with him is just another boy whom he’s allowed to touch.

And Kai does continue, because maybe he gets it. “Up until two weeks ago, I didn’t know you existed; didn’t know I didn’t exist. But when I see you now, or think of you, no part of you feels foreign. And I thought, if… if I’m something that came out of your imagination, doesn’t that mean I’m a piece of you? And maybe you’ve taken some of your feelings and put them in my story. And your feelings are a piece of me too.”

His eyes are shining and Kai blinks and they’re still shining. He stares at Kyungsoo with those eyes, “What I’m saying is. Aren’t we connected?”

Kyungsoo’s chest gets messed up a bit more, after that.

This is an event he can’t really put into words and make arguments about. In that sense he understands Kai difficulty at explaining.

It started off with a story and a list and the drawing of a beautiful boy with thick lips and smooth skin. Then, it became the character named Black Falcon with an empty gun and a hard-to-deal-with logic, right in the middle Kyungsoo’s bedroom. Then it was Kai, who refused to wake up before eleven, loved Iron Man and forced him to drink strangely colored beverages.

And up to that point, there were still some things, at least obscurely normal, with the two of them.

But, when all those things turn into a pair of shining eyes and a connection that Kai can’t define more than, no part of you feels foreign and Kyungsoo can’t define at all, words are really hard to put in place.

“Hey,” A playful voice whispers. “Are you okay, Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo snaps his eyes towards Kai who is leaning forward, right into his personal space, like a creeper.

“I’m…” Not sure. He’s not very sure.

He should be sure, though.

In a table with two guys where one of them is fictional and he suddenly gets teleported, somehow, into a different world and he is told that he’s fictional by the very person who created him and the other is a manga artist who gets to meet the protagonist of his favorite story in real life-Well, it’s an unlikely scenario but, in a table with those two guys, it should be obvious that the first would be uncertain and the second would be answering all the questions and finding all the solutions. 

Kyungsoo needs to try a little harder if he wants to become the second person on that table.

“I’m okay.” He says steadily. “No, I’m good. Only a bit… bewildered. It doesn’t matter.”

Which doesn’t really mean anything. After all the effort Kai made, his words are stupid and shallow, but the boy doesn’t seem to mind.

He scoots down, under the table to tie his shoelaces. “You’re just thinking too hard.” He says as he resurfaces with a smile.  “That’s why you’re confused.”

“And you’re not?” Kyungsoo retorts.

“I am confused and I was trying not to think, but now I am and it’s exhausting.”  Kai sighs.

Exhausting is a pretty good way to describe their conversation so far. And Kyungsoo has a high tolerance for most things, like pain and stupidity and alcohol, which only goes to show that if this talk got to him, it was really life-draining.

“Can you not think? Is there some trick to do it? My mind never seems to black out.” He jokes, yet it sounds too true and leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

Kai tilts his head in a thinking gesture. “I might know a way.”

Kyungsoo filters the answer. Had they been playing in an adventure movie, right about now, he’d take Kyungsoo for shooting lessons, or to a car race. And if this was a romantic comedy they’d go drinking at a bar. If it was a dream, Kai would take him back home and make him lie on the bed with him.

But this is a reality in which Kyungsoo follows the protagonist of his own manga into the subway to Bukchon and through the neighborhoods of Hanok, until they reach an old road that overlooks the whole city.

It’s almost three in the afternoon and despite the wintery weather, the sun is still shining hot over their heads, making Kyungsoo miss the comforting security of his apartment.

“It’s so hot, why are we here?” He whines, running a hand over his sweaty forehead.

Kai grins dumbly, in that unabashed way that he often grins. “It’s warm, right? And the sun is everywhere, isn’t it?”

It is.

Even the exploding city in front of them is covered in sunlight, so much sunlight that it’s hard to make out other colors, or details. Some buildings sparkle and some take a more dull cream-colored hue. The asphalt under Kyungsoo’s feet is white-gray and Kai’s skin is painted golden, like a hay field. Long eyelashes are shadowing his dark eyes and his lips look almost like crème caramel.

The warmth that was resting on Kyungsoo’s arms digs deeper in his body, as if it’s growing roots. It’s a bit like chains and a bit like being engulfed in a warm hug.

“It’s nice. Warm.” He breathes out, shutting his eyes to the sunlight.

“You don’t have to think when the sun is bright.” Kai hums, in a trance of his own, probably.

Kyungsoo wants to look up and check. He’s curious about the face Kai makes the moment he’s happy. But, despite his curiosity, he can’t bear to break the mellow feeling of the soft wind and the rays of sunlight on his body. 

It’s so good. So soft, like a hug. Like a blanket of joy.

But, suddenly Kai’s presence is no longer comforting.

“Please don’t-” He says.

An intense touch fixes on his lower arm and Kyungsoo begins to open his eyes, when the words reverberate in his head like an echo, please don’, don’t, don’t… He doesn’t know what he’s not supposed to do; what Kai is begging him not to do. So he decides (well, more like complies, he’s too mesmerized to make decisions) to just stand still and do nothing at all.

 Kai’s fingers are holding his wrist, curling circles on the soft skin and it feels like the roots of warmth are growing out of control inside Kyungsoo.

And then there’s a wet press of lips on his mouth.

It’s making everything blow up in a spicy, burning explosion, low in his stomach. It’s an overkill of emotions, like different songs playing together at full volume. It’s not distracting, though; doesn’t feel like a mess of strange sounds anymore. The heartbeats and the sweat and the crème caramel lips which actually taste like pineapple and coffee, pull together to make a bright melody.

“Please don’t think anymore.” He can hear Kai speaking from way too close and he decides- no, he complies, why not.

A/N: Wait, you didn't really think I knew what I was doing, right? XD 

If you have any questions about the numerous references, please ask me.