Jongin has dated a lot of people in his life.

It’s not as if Sehun disapproves of Jongin’s tendencies to cling and constantly feel the need to have a partner. Sure, he’s tried to convince his best friend there’s more to young adulthood than finding ‘the one’, but he knows Jongin too well, he knows it’s no use trying to get through to him.

Jongin has lived a life of rejection and abandonment and resorts to a lot of and a lot of partners to fill the gaps where his family and friends should be. Sehun, really, is the only one left.

Despite the fact that Jongin concludes all his new one night stands are ‘the one’, he’s always left broken-hearted each and every time, because all they want is his body. Sehun doesn’t blame them – he’s an easy target. But the countless fails still haven’t taught Jongin his lesson.

He’s had another fling with a guy he met at a mutual friend’s party. It lasted a week. Jongin thought he was in love – until he found out he was, of course, being cheated on.

And now, he’s been locked up in his apartment crying for two days, because he’s been foolish again.

Sehun waits outside the door, as usual, two ice cream tubs cradled in one arm, the other banging on the wood to get Jongin’s attention.

“Open up, Jongin!”

“Go away, Sehun.”

“Dude, seriously, it’s ing freezing out here. Open up.”

He hears Jongin get to his feet after a few seconds of contemplation, walking across the room slowly to unlock the door and swing it open. As usual, Jongin is draped in a blanket; hair messy and eyes rimmed red from crying too much. The sound of a movie drones in the background and Sehun knows it’s been on repeat since the breakup – but he’s sure Jongin was never really watching it, anyway.

“Can I come in?” Sehun asks, as he slides past Jongin and shuts the door behind them.

“No.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

He takes Jongin’s arm habitually, and his friend begins to whine about how he wants to be alone, he’s sick of Sehun doing this every time he breaks up with someone, but Sehun ignores him.

It’s the same routine. Switch off the television – he’s wasted enough power already – and collect the blankets Jongin has covered the couch with, swinging them over his shoulder to take back to the bedroom. He’ll hand Jongin the ice cream and pull him to the privacy of his room, scanning the floors for any chip packets or chocolate wrappers Jongin has left astray from emotional bingeing. The cleaning up comes later. First, he needs to bundle up the blankets and pillows into a small fort on Jongin’s bed, and shove his friend inside of it.

“Sehun, stop.”

“Quit whingeing. I’m helping you.”

Some part of Sehun is a little tired of this repetitive cycle, but he knows making Jongin smile is a worthwhile reward, anyway. And truthfully, he likes to baby Jongin. He likes to wipe his tears and tuck the blankets over his shoulders and watch him smile his genuine smile that no guy from a party could ever conjure.

“Talk to me about it,” Sehun murmurs, as he arranges the pillows in a neat pile behind Jongin. His friend sniffles in refusal – but the words come tumbling out anyway.

“H-He told me he loved me!” Jongin cries, bursting into tears. He doesn’t bother covering his face.

“He told me he loved me on the first bloody night, before we had , before anything, he took me to the park and he said he loved me and he—he didn’t push for the at all…”

Sehun pulls a tissue from the box and s it under Jongin’s nose, busying himself setting up Jongin’s laptop in front of him. Jongin honks into the paper loudly, and Sehun only smiles.

“…and he stayed with me the next morning, and he told me I was beautiful…”

“Where’s the ice cream?” Sehun asks. Jongin stares at him, snivelling, before exploding into yet another fit of tears.

“I’m lactose intolerant, you !” he wails, picking up the ice cream from beside him and throwing the tubs at Sehun’s chest.

Sehun has loaded up Finding Nemo on the computer, because it’s the kind of movie that Jongin still hasn’t grown out of, the kind of movie that always makes him laugh no matter how ty he feels.

He picks up the ice cream tubs, unfazed, and clambers into bed beside Jongin, lifting up the blankets and digging his way inside. He presses Jongin against his chest and hugs him around the waist with one hand, the other stretching forward to play the movie.

“What flavour do you want?” Sehun asks, holding out the two tubs. Jongin sniffs in spite, but chooses his flavour anyway. Sehun always gets him the richest, sweetest, most sickening and sugary chocolate flavours he can find, because they’re exactly the kinds that satisfy his depressive feelings. Sehun, boring as always, opts for vanilla each and every time – partially because he likes the taste, but mostly out of habit. Vanilla reminds him of the smell of Jongin’s shampoo, the sweetness of his laugh, the velvety smoothness to his voice.

Three minutes into the film and Jongin is shovelling ice cream into his mouth, chocolate drying around the corners of his lips, helplessly nuzzled into Sehun’s chest. He hates that Sehun has saved his life, once again, in a matter of ten minutes or less, but he feels a hundred times better already, and the ice cream tastes really, really good.

Sehun doesn’t say anything. He simply stares, stares at the chocolate dripping from Jongin’s lips, stares at his tongue darting out to catch them.

He wishes Jongin would realise the true love he’s been waiting for has always been right beside him.

Two hours later and at least three trips to the bathroom to expel the double-fudge-chocolate-chip-caramel-cookie-dough ice cream explosively from both ends (i.e. extreme bouts of vomiting and diarrhoea), Jongin is left with a churning stomach and an irreplaceable fullness in his heart that no other experience could ever give him. Despite the fact that his mouth burns of acid and Sehun is half asleep on his couch after eating the majority of his fridge’s contents, he’s happy. He’s just too exhausted to realise this is the kind of happiness his craves in a relationship, but never seems to get.

“Go home, Sehun,” Jongin grunts, flopping onto the area of couch that Sehun hasn’t draped himself over.

“Mm. Later.”

“It’s late. I feel sick. Just go home.”

Sehun sits up heavily, exhausted, and grabs Jongin, pulling him down on top of him.

“Ouch!”

“You want me to leave you so you can mope around more?” Sehun murmurs, smiling at him tiredly before lolling his head and dozing off.

Jongin only stares, dumbfounded as to how fast Sehun has fallen asleep – but eventually, he returns the smile, and rests his head on Sehun’s chest, shutting his eyes.

Well, the affection is new. But Jongin doesn’t mind it. Not at all.

“Thanks for staying yesterday,” Jongin says gently. Jongin feels considerably guilty, considering that Sehun stayed with him all day and night with only a mouthful of verbal abuse and a whole lot of crying in return. So he’s decided, the day after, that Sehun deserves some acknowledgement for his tiresome acts of friendship.

“It’s alright. Thanks for letting me eat all your food.”

“You don’t need to do this all the time, you know,” Jongin whispers. “I can handle a breakup myself.”

Sehun is surprised, but he doesn’t let it show through his voice. They’re only on the phone, after all. He toys with the vanilla incense on his desk, frowning.

“Are you saying you don’t want me coming over anymore to help?”

“No, it’s just—I just—I don’t want to bother you all the time, you know? Since this happens so often.”

Sehun laughs a little, “I’m a decent friend, Jongin, I won’t let you wallow in self-pity for too long, no matter what. If you really feel bad then stop dating so many people.”

Jongin bites his lip and sighs deeply.

“But…I just…”

“I know. You feel empty without a lover.”

“I’m sorry, Sehun.”

Something about this conversation makes Sehun’s heart tug in his throat. This isn’t a normal part of the ‘breakup’ regime.

“It’s okay, Jongin. But try not to go around dating just anybody, alright?”

Silence.

“You’d be surprised at how close by the ‘right one’ is to you,” Sehun says weakly, “if you just looked a little harder.”

He hangs up.

Jongin is lost.

“Hey, Sehun, you didn’t tell me you were going out today!”

Sehun looks up from his book, coffee cup on his lips, and Jongin slides into the seat across from him, smiling widely. He’s wearing a crisp dress shirt and his hair is neatly teased back, and Sehun almost chokes on his drink.

“Why are you all dressed up?” he asks, placing his cup back down.

“Oh, well…”

Jongin nibbles on his bottom lip sheepishly, and he covers his cheeks as they begin to burn up. Sehun raises an eyebrow, interested, and shuts his book.

“Remember when we talked, about a month ago? After my breakup? And…and you told me…”

“…Not to go around dating just anyone?”

“Yeah,” Jongin breathes, “and that the right person isn’t as far away as it seems.”

Sehun’s eyes widen. Now he really feels like choking on his coffee – and he’s not even drinking it.

“Well…I…I thought about it for a while, Sehun. And I’ve realised, you’re right.”

Sehun feels a smile forming on his lips, but he forces himself to supress it, not wanting to seem desperate.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jongin’s smile seems to light up the whole room, and it’s the only thing Sehun can see. His heart starts to beat fast – is this it? Is this finally the moment that Jongin has realised Sehun is the person he’s been searching for all along?

“So?”

Jongin reaches over and takes Sehun’s hands in his own. The touch is electrifying. Sehun’s breath is whisked away.

“So I’m going to be brave. Because I’ve found the one.”

“Go on,” Sehun breathes.

Jongin smiles at him, eyes twinkling, teeth showing, the intoxicating scent of vanilla flowing through Sehun’s senses, and the world stops around them.

“I asked Luhan out.”

Sehun’s jaw drops, and everything starts to move again. He can almost hear his heart clunk at his feet. He’s too shocked to speak, but the silence is broken when Jongin pulls back and stands up, raising his hand.

“Luhan! Over here!”

Sehun is still open-mouthed and dumbfounded as Jongin sits down again, beaming.

“I asked him out on a date! Sehun, I think he’s the one. I really do.”

“Hey, Jongin. Oh! Sehun, you’re here too.”

Luhan is a childhood friend of Jongin’s, and works down the road from Sehun’s apartment. He’s a close friend of them both – but absolutely, most definitely, not Jongin’s ‘one’.

“Hey, Luhan,” Sehun rasps, astoundment overpowering his ability to speak.

Luhan pulls up a chair and sits at the rounded table, resting his elbows on the surface and cupping his chin in his palms. Jongin smiles at him brightly, and Sehun is only just beginning to come round.

It’s not me. He doesn’t think I’m the one.

He thinks it’s ing Luhan.

“Sorry for interrupting your date,” Sehun splutters in disbelief, even though he’s perfectly aware it was a coincidence their meet-up happened to be at the same café, at the same time – and Jongin was the one to interrupt him, anyway.

“No, Sehun—”

“I’ll see you guys later.”

Before his anger can get out of hand, Sehun grabs his book and leaves his coffee to go cold. Jongin watches him storm out with sad eyes, and he wants to run after his friend – but he knows he can’t just ditch his first date with Luhan.

A few metres down the road, Sehun turns his head slowly, a bubble of hope rising to his throat that maybe, maybe Jongin has decided he’s more important than a date, maybe he’s followed him out – but, of course, he hasn’t. There’s nobody behind him.

Sehun buys a tub of chocolate ice cream on his way home, and collapses onto his bed with half of it in his mouth, crying.

“Sorry, Jongin. I guess I just wasn’t having a good day.”

Jongin nods in understanding. “It’s alright. As long as you’re okay now.”

Sehun smiles, thankful, and settles back into the couch, comforted knowing that his friend has forgiven him. His conscience tells him Jongin should be apologising, but how would he know any better? Maybe if Jongin was aware of the fact that Sehun is so hopelessly in love with him, he’d realise there was a reason he’d stormed off that morning in the café. But, of course, the oblivious bubblehead has no idea.

Sehun can tell Jongin is politely waiting for him to ask how the date went yesterday by ever so subtly bouncing his legs impatiently and boring holes in the back of Sehun’s head. He turns to face Jongin, and Jongin’s words tumble out before Sehun can open his mouth.

“He kissed me after I walked him home! I didn’t want to push it in case I was moving too fast but he said bye and kissed me on the cheek and then laughed and closed the door, Sehun, he loves me back, he didn’t say it yet but I think he loves me back!”

Sehun imagines strings are tied to the corners of his lips and he mentally yanks them upwards, forcing a fake smile. Meanwhile, his entire mentality is thrown off-balance, and he is left seething.

The nerve of that bastard! To kiss Jongin on the first ing date, how dare he think he has the right to do that?

“He…kissed you?”

“Oh, just on the cheek, though. I mean, I’ve been kissed on the first date so many times, but this is Luhan. And it was so chaste and sweet. He looked so embarrassed. I swear I can still feel it now, I can almost taste his lips and he hasn’t even kissed me on the lips yet…”

Sehun focuses on zoning out and picturing Luhan’s face being shoved down a flushing toilet to distract himself from Jongin’s words. Admittedly, he feels a little cruel, since Luhan really is such a sweet guy, but he decides to leave the guilt for later. The smell of vanilla shampoo as Jongin runs his hands through his hair pulls Sehun back into the real world.

Jongin sighs deeply and stares out the window, cupping his chin in his palms, and Sehun watches his soft smile grow on his face as thoughts cloud his naïve mind. A part of Sehun really believes the idiot could have finally found true love.

It’s heart wrenching to even think about it. All along, Sehun has believed the only true love Jongin will ever find is in him.

Maybe, for once, Jongin isn’t the wrong one.

It takes three weeks for Luhan to kiss Jongin on the lips, and four to get inside his pants. Jongin gushes about both as if they’re his first.

“Oh, Sehun,” he sighs, “the way he touched me, it was so surreal, it was so gentle—”

“Jongin,” Sehun snaps, in between mouthfuls of ice cream, “I don’t need the intimate details. Please. The rest I’m dealing with because you’re my friend, but, hell, no friend is patient enough to deal with you blabbering on about your life.”

Jongin laughs, and his cheeks dust with a charming blush that Sehun has to turn away from. He’s so beautiful when he blushes, Sehun thinks, trying to return to his food to distract his thoughts, but the colour of the red velvet ice cream only reminds him of how lovely Jongin looks when he’s flushing crimson from embarrassment.

“Sorry, Sehun.”

Sehun grumbles, worn out from the talk, and decides it’d be (ironically) healthier (for his mind, of course) to place most of his attention on the ice cream, and not on the way Jongin’s heart is gleaming through his smile.

“I’m going to make us a one-month-anniversary cake,” Jongin declares. “That’s what I’ll do. Because Luhan likes cake—”

“Luhan sells cake for a living.”

Jongin huffs in annoyance, “then I’ll make cupcakes, whatever. Cupcakes. And coffee! Luhan loves coffee.”

Sehun balls his fists and shuffles away from Jongin, because the smell of vanilla is invading his nose again. He doesn’t want to smell the cursed thing; he wants to smell his ice cream, just his ice cream – not pain, not rejection, not the damn vanilla.

Jongin seems to have forgotten Sehun likes cake and coffee, too.

Obnoxiously noisy banging on his front door interrupts Sehun’s afternoon nap, and he’s sluggish as he gets up to answer it, dark clouds hanging over his head in annoyance. Of course, it’s Jongin, with a box in his hands and his heart in his mouth, beaming from ear to ear.

“Hey, Sehun!”

“Hey,” Sehun grumbles, opening the door a little wider to let Jongin in.

“Wow, have you been burning incense or something in here? It smells heaps strong.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Jongin smiles, “it’s alright. I love the smell of vanilla, anyway.”

Sehun looks to the floor tiredly. So do I.

Jongin bounds over to the kitchen and sets the box down on the counter, hopping up to sit beside it.

“Come over, I brought you something!”

Sehun trudges over and looks down at the pretty white box, the kind you’d buy a cake in. He isn’t thrilled.

“Open it!”

Sehun finds that inside there is, indeed, a cake. A small cupcake with white icing piped on top, clearly done with shaky hands, and a small, pink, fondant heart sunken into the centre of the cream dome. It’s clearly handmade, and very strikingly Jongin.

Sehun doesn’t allow himself to get hopeful, but he can’t help but smile, treating himself to the thought that maybe, Jongin has done this just for him. Maybe Luhan isn’t involved this time.

“Sorry that the icing is messy,” Jongin laughs, and Sehun wonders how Jongin could ever apologise when he’s filling his heart with such a beautiful sound as his laughter. “It was left over from the anniversary party. I thought you might want it, so I brought it over.”

Yep, there goes all of Sehun’s hope.

Of course – Sehun almost laughs at his foolishness. How could he have forgotten? It’s been one month since Luhan captured Jongin’s heart. Jongin made him cupcakes for the occasion. This has nothing to do with the fact that Sehun is in love with Jongin.

“Thanks,” Sehun says weakly, closing the box and forcing himself to walk off and place it in the fridge.

“You’re not going to have it now?”

Sehun bites his lip, not wanting to seem rude. He almost takes it back out of the fridge, but—

“It’s vanilla flavoured. Luhan’s favourite.”

Luhan’s favourite.

“I’ll save it for later,” Sehun concludes politely.

When Jongin leaves, Sehun grabs the cupcake and throws it out the window, watching it sail across the street and bounce on top of a car, before rolling onto the road. Fast car tyres quickly flatten it to a crumby, vanilla mess.

Just like Sehun’s heart.

Sehun has a long think over a tub of butterscotch ice cream and comes to the conclusion that he’d be much better off distancing himself from not only Jongin’s relationship, but also Jongin himself. After all, it’s difficult for Sehun to escape from Jongin’s loving feelings for Luhan, when Jongin has now become a walking love-struck. Everywhere Jongin goes, his adoration for Luhan follows.

It’s been two months, and Sehun knows he can’t take it any longer.

That’s when things begin to change between him and his best friend.

Frequent meet-ups become frequent cancellations and frequent appointments that don’t exist. Visits to Jongin’s apartment run scarce and sometimes Sehun just doesn’t bother answering his doorbell. Texts go unnoticed, phone calls end short, vanilla incense is tossed with the trash, and Sehun discovers true loneliness, because Jongin is the only thing he wants and has ever wanted, but he knows he’s lost his love all too soon.

He’s scraping the last of his ice cream from the cardboard when the phone rings – and, of course, Sehun ignores it. He lets it go to voicemail, and the message left is played aloud on the speaker. The empty room is filled with Jongin’s voice, and Sehun begins to tear up, saline droplets mingling with the sweetness on his spoon.

“Hey, Sehun, it’s Jongin. I don’t know what’s happened to you these past few weeks, but I hope you’re okay. I miss you. Please call back.”