Someone once asked me what the hardest thing for me to do was.

I told him it was to love.

He said that I shouldn't feel so down, that I would find love some day.

I didn't say anything.

It's not that it's hard for me to fall in love. It's just hard to love. Because I'm a seventeen year old boy. And it's not normal for seventeen year old boys to like other boys.

I didn't have many friends. Not because I was gay, nobody knew that, but because I was unapproachable. That's what everyone said to me, anyway. Kim Jongin might be hot, but he's boring and quite plain, really.
Yeah, that's me. Kim Jongin.

My mom called me a typical teenager. It annoyed me so much every time she would say that. Sometimes I just wanted to bang my head on the table and ask her "Is it typical for a teenage boy to think about kissing other boys?" And it was funny, because, somehow, I knew just what she would say.
"Yes," she would say, sending me a look for being rude, "it is very normal. It's just a phase that every guy goes through."

I don't know why I think she would say that. She's just like that. She liked to put people in labeled boxes. Teenage boys would be written in capital letters over the box she had put me in. She never made a box for myself. One that said Kim Jongin. For some reason, I think I needed that. For her to see me as me, not just as some teenager.

She was a high school teacher, my mom. Not at the school I attend, bless the lords. That's where she got all her information. She even writes books on the subject. How to be a good mom to an unbearable teenager is the title of one of her books. She told me it wasn't about me, that she didn't think I was unbearable, but it was just teenagers in general. She also told me that she got most of it from her students instead of me. I knew that already. She never wasted time with me.

"Someone's moving in next door," my mom announced as I passed the kitchen where she was sitting with her laptop, tapping away on the keyboard.

It had been years since someone lived next door. It didn't really matter much.

"Okay," I said and kept walking.

"You heard we're getting a new neighbor?" my dad asked when I passed the living room.

I sat down beside him in the couch. "Yeah, Mom told me."

"He's arriving tomorrow," he said, moving his gaze from the news on TV to me. He was good at things like that. Showing me that I had his attention, even when I hadn't asked for it. "The two of us are going to help him move his boxes inside."

"So I'm gonna use my Sunday moving boxes. Sounds fun."

"Like you've got anything better to do," he said with a teasing smile.

"Touché." I shrugged.

 

I woke up at the sound of the moving-truck and a loud laughter that was undeniably my dad's. I pretended to sleep, but my mom walked in the next second, as if she could feel that I was awake, or she just didn't care, and she pulled the curtains apart. The sunlight nearly blinded me, and I turned and groaned.

My mom clicked her tongue. "Get up, sleepyhead. Go be a good neighbor and help the new one move in."

"But why," I groaned and sat up. My mom threw a shirt at my face, and I pulled it over my head. "Can I at least shower first?"

"No time."

"Comb my hair?"

"Why? There are no girls over there for you to flirt with. And you look cute like this, all that hair products isn't good for you." I wanted to tell her that I didn't want to flirt with any girls, that I just didn't like looking like a hobo.

I groaned a last time and put on some pants.

"Jongin, come meet our new neighbor," my dad called me over as soon as I stood on the front porch of our house.

I walked over and saw a young man standing beside my dad, smiling at me. He was smaller, looked less mature, and I looked around.

"Hello, my name is Do Kyungsoo, I just moved in," he said and held out a hand for me to take. I did, and I felt him shake it happily.

"Jongin," I said, letting go of the hand.

"He's just four years older than you," my dad said suddenly.

He's what.

"It's so nice of you to help me out with my stuff. It would have taken me all day if I had to do it by myself," he said and smiled. I found that I liked the smile, although it only made him look even younger.

"Sure, anytime."

We started carrying the boxes inside the empty house, my dad quickly deeming himself done, complaining about back problems.

We were finished a little after noon, and we both sat in the living room, on the couch, the last thing we had carried inside, exhausted.

"Thank you so much," he said. He had said it so many times already. I didn't answer anymore. "Would you like a drink?"

I nodded.

"Beer?"

I looked up at him with a smirk. "I don't think my parents would appreciate that."

"Right. Seventeen. Coke?"

"Yeah. Coke," I said and nodded. I didn't like the way he had said it. Seventeen. Like he had forgot that I was 'just a kid'.

Something cold came in contact with my burning neck and I flinched away, turning to Kyungsoo, who was holding the ice cold can of coke in his hand. "Sorry. You looked like you needed to cool down," he teased, handing me the can.

We were quiet for a while as we drank. I noticed that he had gotten a coke for himself, too.

"So, how is it here?"

I shrugged. "It's okay, I guess. I mean, if you want adventure, you definitely came to the wrong place."

"Then I chose the perfect town," he said and leaned back in the couch with a smile.

"Why? Ready to settle down and tell your grandchildren your life story already?" I said sarcastically. I felt like I was trying to get my revenge.

"No grandchildren just yet," he said. He nudged my foot with his own, and I nudge him back, although I didn't know why we were doing it. "Hey, I think I'm going to wait with unpacking 'till tomorrow. Will you maybe help me?"

I shook my head. "I have school tomorrow. Seventeen," I pointed out.

"Right."

*

"How was school," my mom asked me as soon as I entered the house.

"Like being surrounded by teenagers, Mom."

She frowned at me. "You're a teenager, Jongin."

"I don't feel like one," I said. "Every time they have a conversation, it always ends up with being about . How does that even happen?"

"Jongin, really. Why do you feel like you need to be more mature than everyone around you. You think about , too. You e, right? It's not something to be ashamed of."

"Mom!" I yelled, embarrassed and somewhat pissed off. She was about to say something more, but I was out of the house again before she could.

I don't know how I ended up in Kyungsoo's house. I had just been walking angrily past his house when he saw me and called me over.

He had unpacked nearly everything. His house was pretty and neat.

"What are you so mad about?" he asked me after he had given me a cold can of coke. My face was still a bit red from the embarrassment, but he didn't comment on that.

"It's just my mom."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I know the feeling."

I looked at him with a frown. "No you don't. You're twenty one."

"So that means I don't have parents?" he asked me, raising his brows.

"Well, no.."

"Jongin, you're tall," Kyungsoo stated. "Could you help me with the lamps?"

 

"What do you think about boys?" I asked. I was standing on a chair, reaching up to install the lamp to the ceiling. I didn't know what I was doing, but Kyungsoo talked me through it.

"Boys?" he asked.

"Yes, boys," I said. "They're really immature. Everyone in my class is, anyway. All they talk about is and girls."

"You don't ever talk about and girls?"

"I have no one to really talk to, but if I had, I don't believe I would, no."

"Why don't you have anyone to talk to about stuff like that?" he asked me, holding my waist as I stood up on my toes to reach higher, making sure I wouldn't fall.

"I don't have any friends." I paused. "It's kinda pathetic to admit."

"You're not pathetic."

"You sound like an adult," I said, standing back down flat on my feet. He didn't let go of my waist.

"Well.." he said, shrugging.

"I think I like that."

"What?"

"That you're mature. That we haven't talked about or girls yet, except that I keep mentioning it, but that's not the same, it doesn't count."

Kyungsoo smiled. I saw, because I turned around on the chair and looked down at him then. The lamp was up.

"Try turning on the lights."

His hands slid off my waist and he went to turn on the lamp. It worked perfectly. "Thank you again, Jongin."

*

"You spend an awful lot of time at Kyungsoo's house," my dad stated one day over dinner.

"Yeah," I said, raising a brow at him. "I guess I do. Is that a bad thing?"

"No, of course not," my mom interrupted. "He's a nice boy. And you seem really close lately."

"Yeah, well, he's not immature like everyone else I know."

"Well, he is elder," Mom said, shrugging.

Dad clicked his tongue at her. "So what if he's a few years older. I think he sets a fine example for you, Jongin."

I nodded absentmindedly and continued eating. It had been a month since Kyungsoo moved in next door, and I found I liked his presence more and more.

*

"I didn't know you were good at math," I said.

"I didn't know you ," he teased, bumping our knees. Our arms were already touching. Kyungsoo seemed to like skinship, and I found I never really minded, as long as it was him.

"Then help me understand it," I groaned, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He laughed. He laughed a lot. At the smallest things. I didn't feel boring at all when I was with Kyungsoo. He really didn't seem bored with me. "Okay, okay," he said, bumping my head to get it away from his shoulder.

He taught me for a few hours. I didn't know it was a few hours before I looked at the clock. The time had drifted by without my knowledge.
My head lay in his lap as he tried to keep me concentrated on the book in his hands. When he realized the time, too, he smiled and put the book down beside him on the couch, and not a minute later, his fingers were combing through my hair gently.

I hummed softly at the feeling. "I should be going home. It's late."

"Yeah," he nodded, but none of us moved, except for Kyungsoo's hand that continued to play with my hair.

"Will you tutor me tomorrow again?"

"Yeah," he said again. We still didn't move.

"Good bye."

He laughed then and patted my cheek. "Good night, Jongin."He didn't push me away and just looked down at me.

Finally, I stood up and stretched my arms above my head, yawning. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

*

Kyungsoo became my unofficial tutor for almost every subject I had even the slightest problems with. He didn't mind. He said he wanted to teach me.
Some evenings I even ate dinner at his place. It was nice. He was so down to earth. And he let me help him cook dinner a few times. He usually teased me by saying that kids couldn't cook, but other times we just silently stood beside each other, working on each our dish.

After I burned the sauce once, he never let me work with the stove again. He told me I could cut myself, so I shouldn't work with a knife either, but then there wasn't much left to do, and I wanted to help. I told him that, and he gave in.

"What's your least favorite food?" I asked Kyungsoo over dinner.

"Asparagus," he said immediately, frowning at the thought of the food. I laughed. "You?"

"Pizza."

"How can you not like pizza?" he laughed.

"I don't know. It's just so oily and big. I mean, do people really eat a whole pizza by themselves? Gross."

Kyungsoo laughed again. "Where did that question even come from?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I guess I just don't feel like I know you that much."

"Wouldn't people usually ask what someone liked then?"

"Easy," I said, raising my fork with spaghetti. "It's spaghetti, of course."

"And how would you know?"

"You always make it," I stated. "And whenever you're hungry, you talk about spaghetti."

Kyungsoo looked at me with a careful smile. "Thought you said you didn't know me."

I shrugged. "Maybe I just want to get to know you even better."

"Why?"

I looked up from the food on my plate. "Why, what?"

"Why do you want to know me, Jongin?"

I thought about it for a minute. I didn't know. I just wanted to. I told him that, and he shook his head. "I won't be home tomorrow. I'm going to visit my parents the whole day, so I won't be back until late."

"Oh," I said. It would be the first time in weeks that I wouldn't be with Kyungsoo.

"I mean, your parents doesn't have to know," he said with a secretive smile and I grinned.

"So I can come over?"

"Yeah, sure. If you need to get away."

*

I asked my parents if I could sleep over at Kyungsoo's place the next night. That I had a test coming up