II.

Things weren't perfect, but they had created a start for themselves. Kyung had to admit that much.

It was a little over a month after Jiho accidentally visited him, and since then they had managed to stay in touch outside of work. In the beginning it was mostly Jiho doing the work—suggesting meetings times, places, activities while Kyung either shrugged, grunted or shrugged while mumbling an aloof “maybe”—until Jiho heatedly pointed out that if Kyung refused to give him a chance, then he'd stop trying. (“I know this is hard. Really hard. But I'm trying. And if you really want me to off, then say it and I'll go. For good, because I can't do this again.”)

Kyung wanted so very badly to let the threat roll off of him with another casual shrug, but his insides froze. The tiny tendril of warmth he hadn't even realized had begun nestling (invading?) somewhere in him suddenly went out with the firm warning, like a flickering flame in an unforgiving wind.

So he began to say yes.

 At first he had to force the word out; relax his clenched jaw, and don a delicate mask of reassurance. He wasn't sure if it was the best idea to bring Jiho back into his life, because of what that meant—but as with most things, the more it was done, the easier it became and indeed the words began to roll quickly, lightly off his lips. The comforting warmth began to creep its way back; weak but determined.

So, when Jiho brushed passed Kyung during their Friday shift, carting a tray of fresh sugar cookies and muttered “Movie tonight? My place?” Kyung, replied almost by reflex, looking up from the newest inventory list as he gave a slight nod. Jiho returned it with a quick wink and a grin before setting out to put the cookies on display.

Even now, Kyung still felt the thump of his heart quicken, yet around them, no one seemed to notice a thing.

Taeil was busy checking a register. Minhyuk was chatting ever so sweetly to the girl at table three in hopes of securing a larger tip. Yukwon was busy trying to hide his scowl for Minhyuk as he took down a customer's order.

 It was as if he and Jiho were sharing a secret, filled with fragile private moments as they began to piece back their friendship. Yet, a heavy awkwardness found them every now and then, hanging over them thick, where Kyung could barely bring himself to speak, or breathe for that matter. Jiho silently staring at him with soft, understanding eyes didn't help the matter either—when they were younger Jiho was patient with him (as opposed to just about everyone else in his life) but his understanding did not come without some teasing.

It was now that his maturity really shone through, and it left Kyung literally speechless at times. Yet Jiho's determination was something that did not change over the years, and his persistence continued to melt down the icy walls of Kyung's defense. 

But it couldn't smooth away the raw feeling that Kyung still carried with him. The pang of unease when he saw Jiho's face and his mind wandered back to five years prior. He was afraid to return back to the old but painfully fresh wound, plain and simple, and even though he and Jiho were growing more comfortable with each other by the day, he would never be comfortable with that.  

And at this same time, he couldn't just bring it out in the open. Because as much as he was unsure of how good the idea was, he wanted their friendship to work.

I can't things up. Not this time around.

“You alright Kyung? You're all zoned out,” commented Youngjae who had suddenly appeared by Kyung's side. He hadn't even heard him approach—or at the very least notice the neon green skull cap nestled on his head.

“Yeah, I'm goo--” Kyung paused when Youngjae's dark eyes suddenly widened and he drew in a sharp breath. The doorbell chimed.

“!” he hissed, grabbing onto Kyung's wrist and squeezing. Kyung glared in protest, but his curiosity won out and tracked Youngjae's panicked gaze to the front door where a new customer shuffled in, nose buried in a yellow book. Kyung watched with a raised brow as the customer expertly navigated himself to a corner table all without glancing up. Once he was seated, he placed the book face-down and his stare zeroed in on Kyung and Youngjae. A stare that was intensified by the dark mask covering his mouth and nose.

“You've gotta hide me,” Youngjae pleaded, attempting to move his lips as little as possible and looking all the more ridiculous for it. Kyung finally managed to wring his wrist away from his coworker's vice grip.

“Uh, except he's already seen you. And look, Minhyuk is already taking care of him.”

Youngjae just shook his head and with each shake Kyung could swear the color drained a bit more from his full face.

“You don't understand. He always makes me take his order. The he goes all psycho and makes me do it over because it’s never good enough—and he's always wearing those mask-things and, and staring! He's in my statistics class too, always so damn weird! I bet he's a serial killer—I bet you! Pure evil.” Kyung was about to alert Youngjae to the fact that not only was he overreacting, but his voice was dangerously edging over into shrill-territory.

However, Minhyunk was already approaching them with a frown.

“Hey, do you know that guy over there? He's so ing rude—he told me he only wants Youngjae to take his order.” Youngjae shot Kyung a momentary haughty look that reeked of I told you so right down to the sarcastic lip and pointed stare, before he became totally stricken (and ashen) with realization.

“ , why is he coming this way?” he muttered.

“Because,” snapped Minhyuk. “I told him if he wants you, he can walk up to the front and give you the order himself.” He then turned and stormed off into the back. Kyung frowned.

“Good-looking people don't handle rejection very well, do they? , he's almost as bad as Himchan...” But Youngjae barely heard the remark as he watched the accused serial killer make his way to the counter.

Kyung winced as Youngjae attempted to pass his bared teeth off as a smile. The customer didn't seem so bad. He was definitely well kept: dark honey brown hair, combed, but with a casual messiness that suited him. He had a healthy tan to his skin, and he wore a well-fitting black button-down shirt over what looked like a white t-shirt. His minimal silver jewelry glinted as he moved: a chain draped around his neck, a thick, but otherwise plain, ring on each thumb, and two studs per ear.

The mystery customer had already reached his destination, and his steely stare bore holes into Youngjae's baby-soft face. The mask close up was an unremarkable, simple black, and while it was a bit unnerving, it also could have been a simple fashion statement. Wasn't everything these days?

A moment of charged silence crackled between the two men. Kyung slightly nudged Youngjae with his foot as he walked over to the second register and the other in turn jump-started with the touch.

“...Good morning, Daehyun. How are you doing today?”

“...No comment,” came the muffled reply.

  “...Okay, then,” Youngjae grounded out through his teeth. Kyung spotted a tense vein pulsating by his temple. “What can I get you?”

One of Daehyun's sharp eyebrows shot up. He slowly pulled down the mask enough to reveal a full mouth, a natural dark pink in color. Kyung's was impressed—this guy had prettier lips than Grace and just about any other girl he had ever seen.

Except for maybe Jiho's he realized, in a moment of surprise. He even used to get teased about it, if Kyung remembered correctly. Daehyun however, was probably a tad bit too strange to tease.

“What can you get me?” Daehyun asked again, the hint of a scoff just barely hitching his otherwise smooth voice, his lips thinning as much as they could into an unimpressed line. Yet it was enough to release the flood of blood rushing into to Youngjae's once pale face.  “I order the same thing every time. You still don't know it?” Youngjae clenched his fist underneath the counter, and Kyung prayed to the closest deity within earshot that his co-worker kept his anger to himself.

Youngjae don't be stupid... we can't afford to get sued, and I can't afford to be out of a job.

“I don't know,” Youngjae all but spat into the customer's face, much to Kyung's horror. “Maybe you decided to change your order. Or maybe, I don't know, I serve so many people that I can't really be bother—expected—to remember one person's order.”

 “I like change, just not with my coffee,” he leaned over to say softly, his eyes a dark vice locked onto Youngjae's narrowed ones. He then quickly pulled back, and readjusted his mask, hiding whatever was beginning to play on his lips just seconds afterwards. Youngjae's face fell into a defeated expression of weariness.

“Just have a seat, ok?” he waved Daehyun off, as he turned away. “I'll be with you in a sec.” Daehyun paused, then gave a slight nod. Kyung didn't need to see his mouth to know that he was smiling, eyes crinkled with a slight glint. Youngjae noticed nothing as he reached for a clean mug. Kyung chuckled to himself.

“What is it?” the younger grumbled, slamming down the mug under the machine, before turning to grab a plate.

“You do know his order.”

Youngjae paused mid-reach for a sugar cookie. He cut Kyung a sharp look.

“. Off.”

* * *

“So...what's going on with him?” questioned Jiho, as he peered over at Youngjae sulking against the wall, arms folded. It was once again the slower part of their shift. Minhyuk and Taeil had already gone home for the day, while Jongup had returned to fill in for Jihoon's evening shift, as he had been sick all week.

 It was rare that Jongup, who now worked as a dance instructor at a small studio right off of campus, (which nicely complemented his dance major at the university), picked up shifts at On The Block anymore. He had taken the instructor position as soon as it was offered to him after a year and a half of working at the cafe. Ultimately, he left during one of the cafe's lowest points in business, which he felt guilty about, despite his love for the dance studio. Himchan still had yet to fully forgive him for it, but let him pick up the odd shift when they really needed someone, since Jongup usually could use the money.

For that alone, Jongup usually had a smile for him regardless of the manager's icy shoulder.

“Does it have anything to do with that one customer you were telling me about the other day?” asked Jongup, sneaking glances at the scowling Youngjae, whose scowl deepened further at the question. He then turned away in a huff, without an answer.

“Well,” supplied Kyung, breaking the silence. “What do you want to hear about first? How this guy made Youngjae redo his cappuccino —twice? Or, do you want to hear about him complaining that the sugar cookies were too hard, or too soft, or too crumbly?” Youngjae promptly snapped.

“Shut up. Just shut up! My pain isn't funny. I don't want to see another customer for the rest of the day!” he growled, just as Junhong came up to the counter next to Jongup, decked out  in yet another array of vibrant colors. His gentle eyes widened at Youngjae's snarls, and he paused mid sit.

“Oh. Then I'll wait over---”

Himchan, having left his office just in time to catch Youngjae's bitterness quickly bustled over to the counter, shooting daggers at his guilty-looking employee.

“Oh no you don't, Junhong,” huffed Himchan, pointing one long finger downward.

Junhong sat.

Himchan then glanced over at Jongup, expression hardening.

“Hello. So I see you got my e-mail, then.” Jongup only smiled, and wordlessly nodded his greeting and answer.

Next to Kyung, Jiho drank everything in, smiling to himself and leaning so close to Kyung as he whispered about Himchan's childishness, that the other man could feel his heavy warmth brushing against him. As his skin began to tingle, Kyung sneaked a glance at him, but Jiho was focused on the scene in front of them, oblivious to the invasion of his breath against Kyung's face.

“Don't you mind our horrible Youngjae, Junhong,” Himchan was cooing, with sweetly lidded eyes that screamed mischief and mayhem behind their honey gaze. Youngjae made a face. “Any friend of Yongguk, is a friend of ours. You guys are friends, right?” he all but purred. Without moving his head, Junhong glanced to his left and right at the others all waiting for his answer (but conveniently looking elsewhere), a frown creasing his otherwise smooth, pale forehead.

“Uhh....” he began, complete with a bewildered expression. “I mean, he's been helping me with Chinese for a while now, so...” he trailed off, fiddling with the brim of his sideways red and white cap that matched the red spenders strapped over his sunny-yellow hooded sweatshirt.

 Next to Kyung Jiho muttered “poor guy...” under his breath, shaking his head at Himchan's meddling. Kyung had to admit, there was something about Junhong's voice—it was neither soft like Jongup’s nor as tentative as Taeil's, but there was an almost painful awkwardness to it that made Kyung want to shield him from Himchan's prying curiosity and Cheshire grin. The rest of the workers at the cafe all took Himchan’s antics in stride as part of the job, but no one was paying Junhong to have to deal with it.

“Yeah, yeah, we know that, obviously. But what about when you're not tutoring....?” the grin widened.

“...huh?” Impatience began to line itself onto the manager's face.

“Himchan...let it go,” chided Jongup quietly, and ever so gently as only Jongup could manage. Junhong slipped him a grateful smile, but Himchan only gave Jongup's efforts a stony stare before opening his mouth, ready to pounce again—but  the words were snatched from him at the last moment.

“Yeah Himchan, mind your own business for a change,” called out Yong Guk, approaching the others and looking rather unamused. Everyone had been so caught up in watching Himchan all but bite into Junhong The Prey, that no one noticed the ringing of the bell as Yong Guk strode in.

Although caught in the act, Himchan shot a breezy smile at his frowning friend.

“Hey you.”

Kyung noticed that at the sound of Yong Guk's voice, a brilliant grin broke out onto Juhong's face, and he swiveled around immediately.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kyung saw Youngjae throw him a knowing look, nodding to the beaming Juhong. Kyung nodded back. Youngjae had a point—the guy was always all smiles for Yong Guk—and not in a creepy way. They were pure, they were joyful, and from the sweetly mellow shine in his eyes, Junhong wasn't just happy, he was completely content.

 I need to learn his secret...he thought, with a twinge of mild jealousy, watching Yong Guk grin back and for a moment they might as well have been the only two in the room.  Jongup even looked away, smiling to himself.

“Hey,” said Yong Guk to Junhong, a gentle hand pressed on his shoulder. “Go grab a seat. Be there in a sec.” Junhong gave a quick nod, gabbing his electric blue (of course) shoulder bag from the floor and heading towards their usual spot in the corner, but not before leaning towards Yong Guk, and whispering something in his ear that Kyung didn't catch. Jiho must have however, as he snickered on his way to clear away the dishes at a recently abandoned table. Jongup rose to leave as well, with Youngjae trailing behind him, asking for help with their new shipment of mugs.

Only Kyung stayed to man the register for their non-existent customers, and Yong Guk, who stayed to give Himchan a piece of his mind.

“What did I tell you about bothering him?” Yong Guk demanded in a surprisingly sharp hiss, his usual easy tone gone in a flash. Neither of them paid any attention to Kyung, who wondered whether he should take offense, though he dutifully played along and pretended to ignore them.

Himchan sighed, none too put out by the frown replacing the once warm expression on his best friend's face.

“If you would actually tell me something about him, then maybe I wouldn't worry.” The image of Himchan as a mother hen, clucking away at her woes and sorrows, suddenly jumped into Kyung's mind, startling him with its accuracy. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“Worry? Are you serious? He's fine.”

“Then why don't you ever talk about him? Or invite him out with us?”
 

“Talk about what? And by the way, he studies a lot, plus he's shy. He usually wants to stay in when I ask. That's not a crime, last time I checked,” said Yong Guk with a raised brow. Himchan waved the comment way.

“He's strange, Yong Guk.  And there's usually nothing wrong with that, but I get a bad vibe from him. Something's off.”

“Himchan, enough.” snapped Yong Guk, his frustration hardening into solid anger. “I'm only going to tell you one more time: either you quit messing with him, or we'll go someplace else, ok?”  A flicker of shock sparked across Himchan's eyes before he promptly rolled them, arms folded. 

“You know I'm just worried about you,” he muttered, the warmth of affection clear in his voice. Along with a pang of hurt. Yong Guk sighed, biting his lip in slight guilt. Even Kyung felt an ever so slight pull of sympathy for Himchan—which said a lot.

“I know. But I can't have you harassing him all the time.” Himchan snorted at “harassing.”

“Okay, Mr. Serious. Sheesh. All this over some freshman? I mean, really. ” Yong Guk shrugged, his expression immediately softening.

“He's a nice guy. I like him.”

“A bit too much if you ask me,” Himchan said coolly. This time Yong Guk chuckled, reaching over to teasingly give him a pluck on the cheek.

“Jealously doesn't suit you, Channie.” Himchan gave him the finger in return and muttered “see you later tonight, loser.” Yong Guk only laughed and the two parted ways, with Yong Guk nodding a good-bye to Kyung (maybe they realized he existed after all), leaving him alone at the register.

That is, until Jiho came back to rescue him from utter boredom.

“Hey. What was that all about?” he asked, leaning backwards against the counter. Kyung shrugged.

“Just Himchan being nosy about Junhong and Yong Guk not giving too much of a damn. What did Junhong whisper to Yong Guk?”

“Oh that? He said 'your friend makes me uncomfortable.' Kyung laughed, but Jiho's chuckle trailed of quickly, and Kyung traced his gaze over to the two in question. The younger was staring at the sheet of paper in front of him as if it contained hieroglyphics, a frustrated hand tearing at his curls, while Yong Guk was giving him a small, encouraging smile.

“What's wrong?”

“I get that Himchan is probably just looking out for Yong Guk,” he started slowly, twirling an escaped lock of his hair around his finger in thought, “but I'm worried about Junhong. Yong Guk needs to be careful with him.”

Mature and concerned Jiho to the rescue once again. Kyung was still getting used to it.

“What do you mean? Junhong is an adult, remember? I think he can take care of himself.” Jiho suddenly turned around, his gaze locking on to Kyung's so quickly and intensely that the other almost leaned back. Although Jiho's dark eyes were soft, they were soft with a hint of something that narrowly escaped Kyung as he tried not to squirm under the stare. After an uneasy few moments of Jiho silently searching his face, Jiho broke the gaze and silence.

“Doesn't matter how old he is. Some people are....fragile. Sensitive.” Kyung snorted, though still feeling uneasy.

“And this is coming from “tougher-than-nails” Jiho? Right.” Jiho made a face at the uninspired nickname that Kyung had pulled back from their trainee days. At once he regretted not only his teasing tone, but touching those memories in the first place. He should have known better, and by now it was official: he was a disaster at rekindling friendships.

“All I'm saying is,” Jiho responded, more stiffly than before. “I'd hate to see him get hurt by someone he really cares about.”  

Kyung only shrugged, feeling like an idiot. He had nothing more to say anyway, and it was probably better that way.

* * *

He was late. .

If there was one thing Jiho really didn't like—and that probably wouldn't change, not in five years, not in fifty—was when someone showed up late.

“Why do you sound so out of breath?” demanded Grace on the other line, just as he was taking the stairs up to Jiho's apartment building two by two. He hadn't meant to pick up her call when he felt his phone vibrate, but it was such  a reflex that he answered and was now hoping up a flight of stairs while on the phone, looking no doubt like an idiot.

“I'm...on...my way to...Jiho's,” Kyung panted out, finally leaning against the wall of the apartment building after pressing Jiho's bell.

“Oh, really?” Her voice sticky and teasing. He wasn't sure what she was getting at, but the tone crawled under his skin, latching on to the vulnerability underneath.

“...Shut up.” Kyung snapped in uncreative retaliation, just as the intercom crackled to life and Jiho's sharp “what?” reached his ears. Kyung sighed.

“No, not you Jiho. I'm on the phone.” Grace was all but cackling now on the other end of the line. Kyung moved the phone further from his ear.

“Oh. Is that why you're late?” came a familiar steely reply.

“No—I...look, are you going to let me in or should I turn back?”

The door buzzed open.

“Hey, is he really actually mad?” asked Grace, as Kyung pushed for the elevator.

“Meh. He'll be fine,” muttered Kyung, leaning against the wall as he waited. A part of him wasn't so sure however—his thoughts were still drawing him back earlier that day, when he and Jiho had become once again so disconnected. They hadn't spoken much for the rest of their shift, and once it was over, Jiho had left without saying anything to anybody.

Yukwon, ever the presence in Kyung's business, later noted quietly, as Kyung was packing up his things to leave, that Jiho seemed a bit lonely.

Kyung, who was still put out by Yukown's previous “help” (though he grudgingly had to admit it was the shove he and Jiho needed to jump start their relationship again) immediately went on the defensive, scowling.

“Hey, hey, we've been spending a lot of time together. I'm not ignoring him or anything like that!' Not that he owed Yukwon any bit of an explanation. To his surprise, the other only smiled, shaking his head slight. His expression was warm, but something else was settled just underneath that smile—something that once again, did not reach Kyung. This was getting to be a pattern, he realized—Jiho, Yukwon and Grace. Why couldn't anyone be straightforward anymore?

Yukwon continue to smile his little smile. “Oh Kyung,” he sighed, but with a hint of light teasing, sounding every bit like Himchan in that instant. Which was creepy. Kyung shot him a wary look. “Calm down, calm down. Jiho is happy that you two are becoming friends again.” His eyes flashed knowingly, and Kyung grew all the more wary.

“He is?” he asked slowly, his uncertainty spilling out from his tentative tone. Yukwon gave a firm nod.

“Sure he is. He smiles and laughs more often. Isn't it obvious?' Kyung only stared. “But this is...something else. Harder to deal with.” Kyung folded his arms frowning, not knowing what to say, where to start or what the hell he was going on about.

 Yukwon only laughed at the frustrated expression.

“Just…be nice to him, okay? We all know how you can be.” Yukwon continued to chuckle as he headed out the back door, with Kyung fuming behind him.

“What's that supposed to mean? I can be nice! I am nice! Hey!” but Yukwon was gone, taking his condescending air with him.

Good riddance.

But as Kyung rode up in the elevator shaft (Grace had been already disconnected once it began to move) he wondered if Yukwon had a point. It was still hard for him, to navigate the waters of his and Jiho's fragile friendship—sometimes he wanted to give up, but he still kept going; stumbling, more like it, but to what he hoped was “forward.” That meant something to him, but he now wondered what Jiho thought. Kyung needed a way to prove to the other that he wanted this to work out, he was there for him.

Thankfully Jiho greeted him not with a scowl as expected, but with a small grin, though he did wordlessly tap on his watch. Kyung shot him a sheepish, yet playful look and all was forgiven.

“What are we watching tonight?” asked Kyung, once settled down on the couch in Jiho's tiny efficiency. Unlike Kyung's apartment (which had gotten slightly neater, thank you very much) Jiho's small space was pristine. Granted, had he allowed it to become junky, there would hardly be any room to put said junk. The efficiency was about as efficient as possible. Everything just about closed in on them. Jiho's small but comfortable-looking (and always made) bed was forever shoved into one corner. He would often have to roll it up in order to achieve a few inches of free space. The dark blue couch probably stole most of the room, with the gray and black kitchenette hovering close behind it and a small table with two chairs off to the side.

The walls were bare save for a few easily removable posters of Jihos favorite artists, but the small, plain desk that  he miraculously managed to comfortably fit into the tiny space, housed a few pictures of his family, amongst the piles of course work and the like.

“Jeez,” muttered Kyung, looking at the ominous mountain of paper, textbooks and stacks of notebooks, monetarily forgetting about the movie. “How many classes do you take?” Jiho shrugged.

“The required amount for my majors, but those education classes are no joke, man” he groaned hanging his head in momentary despair, allowing his hairtie-free dreadlocks to spill down in his slump. Kyung had to admit, he was really starting to dig the hair this time around.

Once Jiho pulled himself together, he retrieved the DVD case, and this time the sheepish grin on his face. “So yeah, about the movie...” Kyung focused on the title, and nodded approving when he read Captain America.

“Nice, I've been meaning to see that again.” Jiho sighed, and opened the case, revealing the DVD. Kyung squinted.

“...Save The Last Dance? Uh. What? Isn’t that a…chick flick or something?”

“I know, I know....I asked Yukwon if he had any good movies. He gave me this one today. I didn't think to check inside till I got home.”

“Yukwon?” snapped Kyung, “he probably did it on purpose.” No wonder he was able to keep tabs on them—Jiho kept going to him for things!

“Why would he do that?”

“Just to be meddling and generally annoying? I swear he's learning from Himchan, or something.” Jiho chuckled, and to Kyung horror, fed the DVD into the player.

“Well look, I haven't got anything else around here. And I already caught a virus once from streaming movies. Not really willing to risk it. And besides...from what I remember the soundtrack is dope, okay? Old school!” Kyung grumbled his begrudged acceptance with crossed arms. He wasn't against romance films per see—it just wasn't his thing, as proven by his real track record with girls. Most of the films reminded him of his lousy luck in all things to do with love, and his inability to be as smooth as he used to have to pretend to be, plus chick flicks—a sub-category of romance in his mind-- were always cheesy, no exceptions.

Honestly he was surprised Jiho was so easily game for it. Maybe this was also a change, because years ago Jiho was all about horror and sci-fi.

Either way, the film played—Kyung survived, due mainly to the music keeping his head bopping to the beat and by the end, who was it but Jiho who had snuggled himself into the couch, facing Kyung but leaning back and sleeping.

Of course.

Kyung glared daggers of betrayal at his softly breathing friend who now had a slight drop of drool threatening to wobble its way down the edge of his full red bottom lip. Lovely.

Yet, as the “oldie but goodie” ending song of the movie played out during the credits, Kyung continued to study Jiho in the dim yellow light of the lone lamp by the couch.

His hard, put-out stare melted into quiet wonder as he all but drank in the tranquility in Jiho's face, because he rarely ever saw him so relaxed. Even when—or rather, especially when— they used to train together, Jiho was always in a rush to practice more, to do more, to be more, and it was a pace that Kyung could barely keep up with. While testing limits wasn’t something that Kyung was opposed to (and by the end of those two years his limits were thoroughly tested), he worried whether Jiho was setting himself up to crash and burn from exhaustion; more mental than physical.

In the end, they both crashed—emotionally, something Kyung never expected—but as Kyung quietly observed, there was no hint of the stress and the worry he remembered ingrained into Jiho's very character from back in their trainee days, stress that he usually still caught the shadows of even as they were now building themselves back up together; discovering one another again.

 Jiho had changed, but at that moment Kyung was more certain than ever (despite being abandoned to watch a-maybe-not-as-bad-as-it-could-have-been-but-still-not-his-cup-of-tea-film alone) that he still cared for his friend deeply, almost painfully deep. It was feeling he had at one point locked away, but there was no denying it, and he realized that he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to lose Jiho again. The thought alone was enough to tighten his throat into an emotional knot.

Get it together, Kyung he demanded of himself firmly, biting down on his lip hard to stay afloat of his thoughts and emotions, and focus. It was clear to him now that if he and Jiho were really going to stay friends this time, he couldn't just keep making half-assed attempts. He was really going to have to go for it.

 But it was going to be difficult as hell.

He had never been the best at conveying his deepest feelings, even with Jiho at times, back in the day. It stemmed from being painfully shy when he was younger. Shyness that he was forced to push aside in order to fabricate the mask of suave (the greasy kind) obnoxiousness for his trainee persona, which eventually crystallized into the guarded skepticism he now wore like armor. However, reservations be damned. He wanted, needed even, to prove himself to Jiho, he just needed the opportunity.

“...why are you staring at me?”

Kyung could just barely make out Jiho’s mumbles, as he shifted slightly within his curled position, successfully startling the hell out of Kyung.

“How'd you know?”

Jiho cracked open a single eye, and the corner of his mouth lifted a bit. “Just a feeling,” he replied softly, his voice nonetheless sounding a bit more conscious than before.

“Uh huh. Thanks for ditching me mid-movie, by the way.”

A hoarse, sleepy chuckle left Jiho. “Guess I didn't realize how tired I was.” Kyung snorted.

“I guess not.”

“Don't be like that, you know it wasn't so bad.” Kyung offered a shrug.

“Eh. You were right about the music, and some of the dancing was good—reminded me of stuff from back when we were kids--but...I could do without the love story.” Jiho struggled to achieve a sitting position, swaying and wobbling in his attempt. After a hearty yawn and bone-popping stretch he shrugged, looking every bit unapologetic for his film choice.

“I like all of it.” Kyung snorted.

“You can't be serious.” Jiho raised a sharp brow.

“Sure. It shows how expectations ad perspectives can change, and that that's a good thing as much as we all hate to admit it, and that people can overcome differences of any kind if they are really meant for each other. All good stuff.”

Kyung was sure his jaw couldn't unhinge any further.

When they were younger Jiho seemed to care all about sappy love things. Even when he liked a girl, he'd be too focused on his music to really do much about—it had nothing to do with shyness, or charm, but focus. He never seemed to deem it worthy of his time, even if a girl got him to turn his head.

But Kyung needed to get over that Jiho—that Jiho was a figure in the past, and the sooner it completely clicked with him, the sooner he could stop with the jarring comparisons.

“W-wuh. It's...it's just a chick flick with some dancing on the side!” gaped Kyung. Jiho raised an annoyingly pretentious finger.

“First of all: there’s no shame in liking a chick flick, so deal. Second, it's a social commentary piece, at least to me.” Kyung rolled his eyes. He was definitely talking to a University student here.

“'People can overcome differences of any kind if they are really meant for each other'--just sounds like you're a sap at heart.” He teased lightly, still not feeling the pull the film apparently had on the other man.

“Okay. I guess I am.”

“Since when?”

Jiho paused for a moment, and in an instant Kyung saw that he had crossed over a particular line as a hardness glazed over the younger's gaze.

“Since I realized it’s depressing as to be alone, sometimes.”

 Kyung had no words, as the weight of Jiho's fell upon him with such force, he swore he sunk a bit further into the couch.

“I…uh--” Kyung was searching for anything to say. “You...a lot of people say you don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy, I mean...it gives you time to focus on yourself. I think.” Jiho began to narrow his eyes at Kyung, and the other could feel his shamble of an attempt going down the drain, but the hard look slowly relaxed into a small smile as Jiho shook his head.

“Oh, yeah Mr. Wise one? I know what they say too, and yeah I agree, but I’ve had a hell of a long time to focus on myself and my music, and....it gets to a point where you want something more. I don't want the next few years of my life to just be school--it's a ton of work, but I can handle it. It doesn’t need to be my whole life. We gave up a good chunk of our teens slaving away for that entertainment company, and being ing bitter in the end, and really damn lonely. I don't want this part of my life to be that way too. I want someone who I can grow and learn with—I mean, why the hell not? I’ll be doing a lot of learning over the next few years. Hopefully” He chuckled, but all Kyung could manage was a frown.

 “Most people just want to party, get wasted and have at university.” He happened to not be one of them; he wasn't opposed to any of the three, though he could only handle but so many parties. Jiho scoffed.

“After we left the company, I did all of that. Overdid it even,” he muttered, with a cringe.

“Really?”

“They owned us in that place. When we got out, I just...I needed my time to be free. There was no expectations, no pressure, I just got to...be.” It made Kyung's stomach churn, thinking back to their years at the company, and the ones directly after it. It was a confusing, disjointed time of regret, hope, depression and loss—at least for him.

Yet from Jiho’s quiet tone, maybe they had gone through similar stages, though in the end, Kyung was able to find Grace and enjoy the stability that the relationship provided. He wondered if Jiho had had anyone similar, but embarrassment gripped him and the words for the question refused to form.

One of their familiar heavy silences began to blanket the room, but Kyung refused to let it take over and steal any progress they made, as it had done several times before. This was one of the few times they touched so closely on their pasts with each other, and there had to be a way to navigate through—little steps at a time—without drowning in it, right?

At least he hoped. His whole body was tense with dread, but he needed to try to kick the tension out of the room.

“But I mean really...” he started, a smile clear in his voice. “Can you really overdo it when it comes to ?” Jiho's distant look melted away at the question and sly grin replaced it, he raised his brows.

“I think I came pretty close.” Kyung just shook his head, smiling. This was good. He felt the grip on his body losen.

'How did you have time to work on your music?”

“I always made time for that—can't say my work was the best during that time, but it was something I needed to do. I had fun...and I still like to, by the way, have fun—whatever that entails, I’ll leave it to your imagination,” he added with a wink as Kyung rolled his eyes, smiling nevertheless. “Just in more responsible moderation.”

“I'm sure.  And now that you've had the bulk of your wild years, you want to settle down?”

Jiho quickly sobered up. “I never said ‘settle down’. We're not that old yet, at least, I’m not,” he slipped in with a side-eyed glance to Kyung. Kyung gave him the finger for his efforts, and a cheeky smile ghosted across Jiho's expression.

“But I want someone who...I can learn from, and who can learn from me. Who challenges me, and who I can do the same to. Who can put up with me and vice versa,” he chuckled there, but continued. “That's the kind of person I can easily love; I'm not extremely picky otherwise.” He shrugged, his face tender and honest. Kyung was amazed by the frank confession, and in a low voice, the burning question finally made its way into the conversation.

“Ever been in love, then?” Kyung couldn't bring himself to look at his friend, the heat of embarrassment burning through him—this was not how he envisioned them spending their Friday night, yet his curiously was too great. He hadn’t seen Jiho in years and now that he was finally getting comfortable around him, he wanted to know as much as Jiho would let him in on. His thirst for information surprised Kyung, but his shock did nothing to diminish it.  

“Yeah.” Came the soft reply. The gentleness of the syllable, struck Kyung and he risked a glance over at Jiho to find that the other was staring straight down at the floor, all but burning holes in to the carpet, cheeks tinged with an incriminating flush of red. Suddenly, the flustered sight of Jiho made him feel a lot better.

“Are you....blushing?” he teased, a cackle riding on his words

“ you.” The bite in his tone made Kyung regret the jest instantly. Yet again, he misjudged.

“Hey...I’m not...c’mon, it was just a joke. It's a good thing. Really.” Jiho sighed.

“It was, for me at least. Until--” he suddenly broke off, and shook his head. Kyung noted his clenched fists with a frown and decided to steer away from the subject. While going through their past was something they had to do eventually, they had made enough progress for one night. And If Jiho wanted to ask him the same question in return (at least Kyung was assuming he wanted to, and was not sure exactly what he was going to answer it with), he held it back, probably also having had enough of the past as well, for a good while. Without any worded request from the other, they both moved off of the subject of love completely and eased back into lighthearted teasing, music and general talk between two reacquainting friends.

Yet the conversation continued to replay in Kyung’s mind, long after he said goodnight to Jiho.

* * *

Thanks for sticking around for part two :) Zico and Kyung are becoming friends again! but....things won't be that easy for them! (Not that you expected anything otherwise :D ) Hope you enjoyed the chapter (amd the introduction of Daehyun and Jongup!), see you in the next one!