He chuckles.

With a smile, Jongin shakes his head at the sight of the man who continues to shove more food down his throat.  His new friend, Kyungsoo, looked fairly shocked to see him back at the bus stop – where he was simply waiting for the final bus to arrive. Kyungsoo was crying, too, but to think about it; Jongin remembered that Kyungsoo had been crying when they first met each other back in the café, too. Jongin figures that Kyungsoo’s favorite hobby is to cry.

Carefully, Jongin removes his glasses off his face, wiping his pair of spectacles with a specialized cloth kept in his pocket. Kyungsoo had agreed to his offer of having dinner, despite their lack of proper introduction and warmth with each other during their first meeting. Perhaps Kyungsoo was feeling quite hungry when he had bumped into him, but then again, Jongin remembers the small man accidentally blurting a sentence, saying he was pregnant – hence, Kyungsoo had two mouths to feed.

“Maybe…” Jongin starts speaking as he places his spectacles on the table. “Maybe you should chew a little bit slower, you might choke.”

Kyungsoo looks at him, startled like a pretty deer, before he nods his head, still chewing on the grilled meat. Once he swallows, though, he apologizes. “I’m sorry; I was just… really hungry.”

“That’s fine,” Jongin reassures, “I’m sure you and your baby need the sufficient amount of energy.”

The small man, sitting before him, across the table full of half empty plates, looks even smaller with Jongin’s long coat draped over his lean shoulders. Pinky peach tints bloom by said man’s cheeks when he pulls the coat closer to his skin – being covered with nothing but a thin excuse of a mess he calls a t-shirt. At least, Jongin thinks, his brown, long coat would have covered Kyungsoo’s legs as the smaller man had worn only a pair of shorts.

“How-” Kyungsoo begins, only to stop in order to sip on his drink, “How did you know that I’m pregnant?”

It was quite reasonable for Kyungsoo to question him that, although it was also quite odd for him to talk to someone about one’s pregnancy – Jongin has always been awkward at talking. Especially with his crush; though now is no time to be speaking of Mr Byun. It was magical enough that he hardly stutters whilst talking to stranger Kyungsoo, but stumbles on his words just when his boss turns to him with a smile.

“You may or may not have accidentally said it,” Jongin twirls his noodles with a plastic fork, “You were also speaking incoherently, but I managed to hear a few words. In fact, you said that you weren’t pregnant, which is kind of a weird thing to say because I wasn’t asking any questions about pregnancy – but you also said that you weren’t crying, though, ironically, while you were saying that, you were also crying.”

Kyungsoo blinks, his shoulders hunched, making Jongin’s brown, long coat shed off them. “So—”

“So,” Jongin grins, “As a bit of a detective, I have figured a theory of you being pregnant but is also in denial.”   

In Jongin’s eyes, Kyungsoo’s hunger seems to have disappeared by now, only to be replaced with discomfort as the man fidgets in his seat. Jongin squirms apologetically at this, both too awkward to be saying anything and a part of Jongin wanting to punch himself for spurting out theories he had been making about Kyungsoo’s possible pregnancy.

“That’s true, though…” Kyungsoo softly replies, albeit he’s unable to respond to Jongin’s gaze. “Your assumptions were correct, detective.”

Jongin wants to laugh at the new nickname he was given, although Kyungsoo appears to be sad, or worried? Jongin decides to just keep his stupid mouth shut until Kyungsoo speaks up again. He only watches as Kyungsoo struggles to gulp down his last sip of plain water, sweat forming by his forehead and the heat of shame steaming up to the back of his neck.

“I should probably go,” Kyungsoo says as he takes the long coat off his tiny figure. “Thank you for your time, and for having dinner with me.”

“You’re absolutely welcome, but are you going home by yourself?” Jongin stands up as well, guiding Kyungsoo’s way to the payment counter as he comes closer, one hand slipping into the pocket of the coat to grab his wallet. “In this weather, on your condition and on my watch, I don’t think it is a good idea for you to go home by yourself.”

“I’m not fragile, nor am I ill,” Kyungsoo argues, “I can go home by myself, I’m sure. Thank you for your concerns.”

Jongin remains frozen by the restaurant, while Kyungsoo walks out, huffing, leaving a dumfounded Jongin behind. He quickly races to Kyungsoo’s steady pace, hesitating upon whether to hand the coat to Kyungsoo once again or to just keep the clothing to himself. He settles on the latter. “I’m not trying to treat you like a charity case, you know. I know you don’t want my help, either. I’m not trying to help – I’m trying to be a friend because I felt like you needed one.”

“This time, detective Jongin, you are wrong,” Kyungsoo jabs his finger onto Jongin’s chest. “I do not need a friend, I do not trust anyone, and I certainly do not trust you.”

With a quick movement of hands, Jongin grabs onto Kyungsoo’s wrist and stops him from poking his finger onto Jongin’s skin. “Why?”

“Because I’m afraid,” Kyungsoo whispers, hushed and soundly. “I’m afraid of you turning out to be just like him.”

Jongin is confused for a short while, trying to figure out what Kyungsoo was talking about and who he was talking about, but it only takes him a moment of trying to reminisce what Kyungsoo had cried about when they first met.