It was funny, how things in life worked out, but again, maybe it wasn't.

Kyungsoo wasn’t sure how or where everything had started. It had been gradual, like sand slipping through an hourglass until suddenly everything was different. Something inside of him had shifted.

A new student had started at their school three months ago. Except for his sharp, cold eyes, everything about him was normal. He'd introduced himself as Kim Minseok.
Nobody paid him any mind. He had a disarming air about him.
None of the students bothered to initiate him into the school or bully him, but nobody ever paid him any attention or tried to befriend him either. He carried the sort of air about him that warned people away yet somehow didn't feel threatening. Yet Kyungsoo caught himself staring.

The newcomer always seemed disinterested in everything and everyone. He’d sit at his desk, chin propped on his fist, with a distant look on his face as he stared into space. His uniform was never neat. His shirt was always untucked, and his tie always hung about his throat looking more like a necklace than anything.

Kyungsoo never realized how much he’d observed about the boy until one day in the middle of class, Minseok turned, his eyes locking with Kyungsoo’s.

Neither boy blinked or moved their gazes away. Kyungsoo knew he should feel embarrassed about getting caught staring, but something drew him to the new student and he couldn’t explain why. Kyungsoo never felt much of anything anyway. Much less embarrassment.

The moment is broken when a smirk, likes he's realized something pleasing, slides onto Minseok’s face before he turns back toward the teacher. Kyungsoo blinks and drops his eyes to his desk. Thoughts race through his mind as he lays his head on top of his text book, head facing the window as he closes his eyes and spaces out the teacher’s lecture. He drifts off into something that isn’t quite sleep, with Minseok’s face floating behind his eyes.

The sound of the class president ordering everyone to bow is what woke him. Kyungsoo paid the order little mind, already busy stuffing his things into his bag. He had an errand to run and he had no desire to be late getting home and suffer another beating from his father for his tardiness.

It was a small errand, and Kyungsoo finished it quickly. He was exiting the bus when he saw him. Minseok was leaning against the wall that ran parallel to the sidewalk, eyes fixed on Kyungsoo as he approached. Kyungsoo's expression remained blank as he passed Minseok without a glance, opting to ignore the older male.
Minseok didn’t care, apparently. He fell into step beside Kyungsoo, their footsteps falling into an equal rhythm. Neither boy spoke. Kyungsoo felt like the silence was deafening, though Minseok gave no indication he felt anything similar, so neither did Kyungsoo.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he found himself, instead of turning left toward his home, following after Minseok, who turned right toward the park. Minseok’s presence was hypnotic, and Kyungsoo felt powerless against him. A few minutes later, Kyungsoo was seated in a swing, Minseok half hanging out of the one beside him.

Kyungsoo knows he should be feeling something right now. Nervous, maybe.There was nothing, though, so he simply stayed silent and swung gently back and forth, the creaking of the bars the only sound for quite some time.

It was Minseok who broke the silence.

“It’s getting cold.”

“Yeah. It’ll start snowing soon.”

“I’m glad. I don’t like the heat.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Silence falls again, and Kyungsoo can feel Minseok’s gaze on him. It’s piercing, and he’s sure the other boy can see straight into his soul. Maybe he can. Maybe that’s why everything turned out the way it did.

“Kyungsoo.”

It was his name, obviously, and he was of course unable to count the number of times he’s heard it, but when Minseok said it, it was different. It wasn't the impatient way his teacher said it. It wasn't with hatred like his father would scream it. It wasn't in a whisper or with terrified respect like his fellow students would say it.
When Minseok said it, it wasn’t a command, but something was laced in the other’s voice, and Kyungsoo suddenly began to feel like a puppet, easily controlled by its master.

Kyungsoo lifts his gaze to look at Minseok, whose expression isn’t quite blank, but there’s something there, and Kyungsoo knows he’s seen that look before. He’s seen it in his own face.

“Let’s go get ramen.”

Kyungsoo stares at Minseok for a moment. There’s a fragile tension between the two of them. Their presence on the swings was almost a battle, like a gauntlet Minseok had thrown. It was a spell that had been cast and at any moment it would either take hold or be broken. One of them would lose and one of them would win.

“Okay.”

Minseok smiles, and somehow, Kyungsoo knows he’s lost.