It is Halloween, and instead of attending the many university parties his peers are hosting, Jongin is spending his Saturday in the police station.

He is not there as an offender, obviously. Although he does pass the speed limit or more often go under, on the occasion, he is mostly a law-abiding citizen. He had lost his wallet that afternoon, at a park he visited with his friends, and someone was kind enough to return it to the nearest police station rather than pocket it. There was nothing but a moneyless debit card in there so Jongin would not have lost anything, however, it did save the hassle of having to report his card and replace both his card and wallet.

The sudden call from the police was alarming for him that evening, but once explained he drove down to the police station.

So, he finds himself waiting on a hard plastic chair while one of the officers rummages through the lost-and-found box for his wallet. Because station is less organized than expected, his wait is longer. Thankfully, he has nothing important that night except for homework so waiting is not a problem.

Though, there is something else that is feeding his patience, something to entertain him in his wait.

A boy.

How old, Jongin cannot really guess. He is shorter than Jongin perhaps. He is sporting a knitted green and brown sweater vest, a white collared button up and some khaki slacks. His hair is cut military short and he is wearing thick wired glasses.

It isn’t his stereotypically nerdish appearance that attracts Jongin’s attention. It may have induced a glance in the beginning, but no, his attire is the least noticeable thing about him, the boy who has the attention of the entire station.

The one with red, tearful eyes behind his thick glasses.

Oh, yes. Jongin had been patiently waiting in the station, minding his own business, when the police hauled in this guy.

He came in wailing and bawling, grabbing onto the officers near him while begging.

“I didn’t do anything! I was just picking up a friend-oh my lord, you’re going to put me in jail! You can’t do that-” He began hyperventilating and the officers were at a loss on what to do with him. “I have a scholarship to maintain! I can’t get a criminal record! They’ll kick me out!”

He dropped on the ground and took refuge there, refusing to move.

“Sir, please get off the ground. We would like to discuss-” The officers tried to get through to him, but the boy was too busy panicking.

Jongin had watched silently as the boy cried about the end of his life and the police tried to awkwardly calm him down.

Well, they are still at it.

The boy has been relocated to a chair near Jongin. The police have told him that he isn’t going to be arrested if he could coherently talk to them. So he is telling them that he had received a call from his friend who had gone to the party that was busted. He went to go look for his friend, but was caught by the police instead and brought here as a ‘fugitive’.

It was probably one of those senior parties off campus, Jongin assumes. He has heard snippets of what the parties are like, and well, they sound pretty wild. Too wild for a ‘wallflower’, as his mother says, like himself.

It seems like a scene from a movie, or a romantic young adult novel. A dramatic meeting between the main characters where one gets saved, a witty introduction and a night under the stars with conversations about everything and nothing that leads to a turbulent but, ultimately, an everlasting relationship.

Just thinking about it makes Jongin want to hit himself. The poor guy is miserable at the possibility of damaging his academic career and Jongin is here imagining a fictional relationship.

The sniffling continues beside him. He had tried not to eavesdrop in the beginning but that was an impossible task, now that the boy was sitting near him, so he gave into his curiosity so he begins to understand the situation more.

His eyes naturally turn to the boy and the policeman. He quickly averts his gaze when he realizes, but he catches the profile of the boy. His heart stutters with a moment of aesthetic pleasing because his profile is really nice. Smooth, flushed cheeks, a killer jawline, puffy rosewood lips and round hooded eyes. He enters the limbo, where one sees an attractive stranger whom they cannot keep their attention off of. He studies the creases in his palm to avoid fantasizing how attractive the boy would be if he weren’t crying-

Which he has been doing for the past twenty minutes. It is a wonder his throat has not dried out yet. But the cute boy in the sweater vest looks even cuter sobbing, like Jongin’s niece. He would usually hug her and kiss her until she calmed down. He wants to comfort the boy too, but without any ill intentions, because not helping is chewing at his conscience. But Jongin thinks too much and acts too little and ends up with the role of a shy bystander.

The boy gets up to go to the front desk and the issue gets resolved without Jongin’s help. The boy’s hysterics were convincing enough for the police and they let him go under false arrest.

“Be careful son,” one of the officers advises, “don’t let me catch you in such a mess again.”

The boy nods multiple times, promising the officer. Another officer tells him that he can contact someone to pick him up from the station. The officer that gave him a warning pats him towards the chairs and the boy walks towards Jongin.

Jongin stares at his shoes as the boy walks towards his direction, pretending to have no interest in anything else but, even though he has been paying to the boy with rapt attention.

Play it cool, he tells himself. He has already lost the chance to talk to the boy, so the least he could do was keep the incident private, to spare the boy’s embarrassment.

The boy sits on his other side, hidden in the corner. He wipes his eyes and cheeks and pulls out his phone.

Jongin has not retrieved his wallet still, but he wants the wait to be longer so he can see this event through. It is an interesting experience, he does not want to be the first one to walk away from it.

However, the experience turns into something even more twisted once the boy starts speaking into his phone.

His voice is too quiet for the officers at the front desk to hear, but loud enough for Jongin. The boy is half-way shielded from view as well. Before, where his voice was broken and uneven, it is now confident and solid. It is quiet and husky but it screams danger.

“Where are you dip?” he starts of, emphasizing the colorful nickname.

Jongin does not have time to admire his rich tones because he is too busy being confused.

There is a pause as someone replies. “Where the am I? You ing traitor.”

The boy’s eyebrows furrow and his lips curve into a frown. “You have my car? Are you kidding me?”

He makes sure to keep his volume consistent.

If anyone heard him talk like that, his scholarship-goody two shoes image would be tarnished.

Jongin is very confused.

“I’m at the ing police station is where I am! Come pick me up boy.”

He uncrosses his leg and straighten his posture. “You’re with that ? In my car.” He is spitting now, tips of his ears reddening in anger.

He notices Jongin staring and raises his defined eyebrows at him. Jongin looks away, feeling intimidating all of a sudden. Which is strange as this boy was just begging on his knees just a while ago.

Was that an act? Jongin wonders.  

“Why did you take my car?”

Jongin debates in is head as to whether it would be right to admire the boy’s acting skills if it were all a well-planned stunt to avoid being arrested.

 “No, you listen to me you tard. You throw the in a ditch and then you come pick me up.”

The person on the other line seems to be testing the boy’s temper. With one hand, he has a death grip on the arm of the chair while the other is clawing at his thigh.

“You are dead to me.”

Jongin wonders whether the boy will get home tonight.

“ing .” The boy curses. The dial tone is loud enough for Jongin to hear clearly.

It did not look like he would get home tonight.

The boy grips his phone. He takes a moment to breathe in and out slowly while Jongin tries hard not turn his head and stare (but he does, slyly).

He removes his glasses, and harshly rubs his eyes. He glares at the phone in his hand, and puts the glasses back on.

He continues his breathing exercises, but it does not work for him, as a string of offensive names leaves the boy’s mouth.

“ing er,” is one of many. His voice soars from alarmingly loud to incoherent mumbling.

He stays seated, with no place to go. Jongin has his car on him so he considers offering a ride. But he feels like he will be rejected if he tries.

A police officer walks towards them, and the boy begins rubbing his eyes under his glasses to draw some more crocodile tears. The officer is coming towards Jongin however.

“Sorry for the long wait, son” the police officers says. “We aren’t as organized as we would like to be,” he chuckles and hands Jongin a leather wallet.

He has forgotten why he was at the station for a while, too invested in something else. He is shocked, but remembers to take the wallet and thank the police officer.

“You’re friends on their way?” the officer asks the boy.

Jongin opens and look through his wallet to stall his leave.

“No, they are not available at the moment,” the boy replies, voice small and pitiful. It is quite a contrast from when he was cursing at his friend.

“This just isn’t your day is it?”

The boy does not reply.

“Where do you live?” the officer questions.

It takes the boy by surprise. There is a pause before his answer. “I live on campus, University of Seoul.”

Jongin’s heart skips a beat, not romantically per say, but at the coincidence that the boy attends the same university as him. Jongin has never seen the other around.

“That’s quite a distance from here. Have you tried all your friends?”

“Yes, sir. I have some change on me. I’ll be taking the bus back.”

“Nonsense, it’s too dark to take a bus. There are students lurking for Halloween preys at this moment.”

Which is true. Jongin has heard stories of mugging in the area, and back home too, where high school or university students stop others and steal their candy as well as anything valuable.

“I’ll be fine,” the boy argues. There is a sense of urgency in his voice now. Jongin steals a glances towards him and sees that the boy is half-way off his seat.

“No, no, no. Me and my friend are leaving to begin our neighbourhood surveillance, we can just drop you off.”

“Sir, that’s all right. You don’t have to do that.” He is definitely panicking. Even the officer is taken back slightly but he assumes he just does not want to trouble anyone.

Jongin wonders who the boy is. He changes his personality in an instant, so maybe he is a drama major? There is something else to the boy, as he continues to deny the officers suggestions. But the officer does not take ‘no’ for an answer. He must see a defenceless university student that his morals signal to protect.

Jongin thinks hard, but he really hasn’t seen the boy anywhere on campus. He questions the possibility of the boy even going to his university.

Then a light bulb lights up in his head.

The boy probably does not even attend his university, thus he cannot have the police drop him off or his cover is blown.

That is a possibility.

So the question at hand is, is Jongin willing to help him?

The officer asks his partner if they can make a stop during their route and the boy begins to bite his nails. Jongin had tried to avoid eye contact previously but in a slim chance, they make eye contact. The boy holds it. Jongin has never assigned emotions to eyes, because eyes are just eyes, but the boys eyes are pleading to him. It is concealed well when the officer comes back, but in that moment, Jongin shared something with the boy.

“Um, excuse me,” Jongin interrupts the officer, who is telling the boy to get ready to head out, “I’m actually heading the same way.” He needs to convince the officers so he adds, “We attend the same university. He’s a sunbae.” The boy looks young, but he feels as though he has years on Jongin.

“I can give him a lift.” The officer stares at him, taken back by his suggestion. Where do you find kind strangers at night now a days? Even Jongin thinks he sounds a bit suspicious. “If he’s more comfortable with that option,” Jongin offers. Someone who supposedly went through a ‘panic attack’ would want to avoid being driven in a police car again. It makes sense.

Hopefully, Jongin prays.

The boy nods furiously. “If it isn’t an inconvenience, I would appreciate that,” he replies, playing with the hem of his sleeves. His legs swing back and forth lightly as he looks up at the officer, “I don’t want to be seen coming to campus in a police car. If someone sees, I’ll have a hard time explaining.”

Jongin wants to high-five him for playing it smoothly. He is excited now. He has never done something like this, helping someone get out of jail. It seems like his movie scenario can be revived.  

“You live on campus too?”

“Just across it, sir.”

The officer muses, then shrugs. “If he’s okay with that,” he nods towards the boy, “then I guess it’s fine.”

Jongin and the boy hold their sighs of relief.

They make eye-contact, and the boy nods at Jongin in gratitude. Jongin returns it with a giddy feeling in his stomach.

“I’ll be on my way, then,” the boy bows to the officer and then towards the front desk. He address all the police offers that witnessed the scene he created. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. Thank you for understanding.” They bow back, shaking their heads, telling him not to worry.

The officer talking to them chuckles and pats him on the back. “Be good, kid.”

Jongin gets up and heads towards the door, also bowing for their service, while the other is still beside the police officer. The boy follows behind him.

“Drive safely!” they hear the officer call out after they have exited the station.

Jongin walks in front, tense as he wonders if he should start a conversation. Maybe ask the stranger for his name, or ask why he lied to the officials. The boy is silently following behind him. In the shadows on the pavement, Jongin can make out the boy holding his hands in front and his head seems to be down.

He hopes things are less awkward during their drive.

Jongin leads them to his car in the parking lot, a student-budget friendly black Kia. He opens the doors and lets the boy get in first and then settles in the driver’s seat and turns on the lights.          

Once they are both seated, the boy in the passenger seat relaxes into the seat.

“Whew,” the boy breaks the silence, “I thought I was going to get busted.” He sits in silence for a second, probably running through the events of the night. Then, a string of giggles leave the boys mouth, until he is laughing. He slaps the shared armrest as Jongin can only stare in silence.

“Whoo!” the boy wipes tears from his eyes, holding his glasses in one hand. “That was fun,” he exclaims. He turns to Jongin, still smiling wide (Jongin fangirl’s when he sees the boy’s lip make a heart), and he pats his biceps, as if he is saying wasn’t that fun?

“Fun.” Jongin cringes at the sound of his voice. It comes out pitchy and weak. “Very fun,” he tries again, adding more chest voice to it, but realises too late that it sounds like his voice is on steroids.

“Much fun,” the boy replies. “Although,” he adds, his features turn serious, “it wouldn’t have been fun if I was caught lying to the police.”

And Jongin wants to stay on that topic, because although the act itself was quite thrilling, he wants to know the real reason behind the façade. He wants to know whether he really helped a poor student that was busted by the police and abandoned by his friends.

“You really saved me back there.” The boy turns in his seat to face Jongin again. He looks friendlier then when they were inside the station. His expression is relaxed and his eyes are even bigger without his glasses, which he put back on. “Thanks a lot.”

Jongin mumbles a no problem as he starts his car.

“No really. Like, I know it’s a really weird meeting. You could’ve just went home because you could say it was none of your business. But you offered to help anyway. Despite me coming off as pretty shady.”

Jongin is still suspicious about the boy. He is dying with curiosity, but is waiting for either the right time to ask or for the boy to offer an explanation on his own.

The car revs into life.

The only way to get answers is to talk.

“I have no excuse for my willingness to trust others,” Jongin admits (and mentally high-five’s himself at speaking an entire sentence). He should be more careful of who he brings into his car, but he is too reliant on judging the cover. “You look pretty harmless.” He hopes the other isn’t offended by the comment, or tries to prove him otherwise.

Instead, the boy chuckles. He pulls at the neck of his sweater. “It’s the get-up isn’t it?” he asks.

His ‘get-up’, Jongin admits, is the stereotypical ‘nerd’ look that the media often exhibits - as if being high on the academic food chain is anything to be teased about in the academically competitive culture of Korea.  Although the boy looks the part, he sounds nothing like it. He speaks with ease and confidence, as if he had all the time in the world. Nothing close to the timid persona he wears outside.

And if Jongin looks closer, not that he has been looking any more than necessary, he can see faint scars under his lower lip and on either sides of the thinnest part of his left eyebrow. There are a couple of holes around the cartilage of the ear Jongin can see. He tries not to get excited at the possibilities of piercings, because a cute boy in piercings would be the death of him.

Clothes, he tells himself. Focus on clothes.

“It looks comfortable,” Jongin supplies, not admitting that the boy is on to him.

“It’s hot,” the boy counters.

“Should I turn on the AC?” Jongin is quick to reach for the controls. Manners have taught him not to make his company uncomfortable if he can help it.

“I would like to decline, but I think I’d accept the offer.” The boy frowns as he looks down on his sweater. “It’s my costume,” he shares. When Jongin fails to reply, “For the Halloween party,” he adds slowly.

Liar pants.

Is the first thing he thinks of. His eyes widen in realization. Because the boy said he was at the party to pick up his friend.

Jongin knew it was a lie, but for the boy to confess to him so blatantly takes him by surprise.

“I lied,” he whispers, and put his fingers to his lips (they look soft, Jongin notices) and shushes him. He laughs again. Jongin thinks that he looks way cuter laughing than crying and that he was wrong to have thought otherwise.  “But you probably knew that, right?”

Jongin nods. “Didn’t know what you were lying about, though.”

“You can ask me questions, you know? I owe you that much, I think.” The boy seems to have realized his seatbelt isn’t on and buckles himself in. Jongin remembers after seeing him too and does the same. He thinks he should also start driving soon if he wants the take the other home.

But he finally has the chance to get some answers. What should he ask? Did he lie about attending the university? Does he really live on campus? How old he is? There are many possibilities, many questions to ask the stranger in his car.

He settles for, “Uh- your name?” Because, again, there is a stranger in his car. He should at least know his name. “I’m Kim Jongin.” He should introduce himself to, so they can become less of a stranger to each other.

“Oh yea, I’m Kyungsoo, Do Kyungsoo.” He extends a hand, “Nice to meet you, Jongin-shi.”

“Jongin is fine, Kyungsoo-shi.” Jongin shakes his hand, but not before secretly wiping his hands on his thigh, because his hands have gotten sweaty from continuously holding on to the steering wheel.

“Kyungsoo’s fine too,” Kyungsoo replies.

“Cool,” Jongin says lamely. “We go to the same university?” Jongin tries again. He doesn’t know if that was true yet. It would make him feel a lot more comfortable if it were, though.

“That one wasn’t a lie,” Kyungsoo defend. “Neither was the scholarship. It would’ve been revoked if I’d gotten arrested.”

Jongin has never seen him around before. He would remember if he had. “I’ve never seen you before,” he tells Kyungsoo. Or heard of you, he wants to add. Back in the days, there would be rumors about people who wore extensive amounts of piercings, but now a days it’s stylish so it wouldn’t distinguish Kyungsoo from the rest of student.

“I haven’t seen you either.” 

“I’m in the Landscape Architecture department,” Jongin offers. It is a big university. It is possible for them to not have met.

“Ah, you’re one of the urbans.” It is an endearing nickname for the Urban Science students in their school. “I’m in Business Administration,” Kyungsoo shares.

And it makes sense, since none of their courses, their buildings nor social groups overlap, so the chances of them running into one another is low. He makes an ‘ah’ sound that Kyungsoo mimics.

“See,” Kyungsoo teases. “I’m not a bad guy. Just a bit of a liar.”

“A bit,” Jongin entertains.

He thinks it’s time to get out of the parking lot of the station now. It is a wonder the police has not noticed them loitering there. Putting the gear shift in reverse, he gets his car out of the parking space.

Kyungsoo points outside and catches Jongin’s attention.

“Just drive me around the corner,” he instructs.

Jongin stops his car mid-way out of the white line. “Why?”

“I’ll take the bus from there on.”

“But I live right across the school, I can drop you off there,” Jongin argues. It does not make sense for him to leave Kyungsoo when they are both going the same way.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo makes an ‘o’ with him mouth. “I forgot to tell you.” He scratches his neck. ““Well, I told another lie, actually. I don’t actually live on campus.”

Another revelation.

“That’s why you didn’t want the police to drive you home,” Jongin accidently says out loud.

“That, yes, but also because…the party was at my house?”

Another twist in the story.

“When the police came, everyone ran out. I got caught because some kid decided to push me onto the sidewalk,” he explains. “Like I said before, getting arrested is not a possibility for me, so I kind of played with the water works to get me off the hook this time.”   

“You’re very good at acting.” He is. Jongin was fully convinced, enough to think he was a drama major. “I thought it was real until you called your friend.”

Kyungsoo huffs. “Not my friend anymore. If he were, I wouldn’t have to trouble you so late at night.”

“No trouble, it’s only nine.” Jongin does not have anything waiting for him except for an essay on the Madiant Jumeriah Hotel for his Eastern Landscape course.

“Are you clean right now?” he asks because who hosts a party but refuses the party conventions? If Jongin’s heard right about these parties, Kyungsoo should have been charged on the spot for substance abuse, however innocent it may be. Korea is strict on drugs, yet students are influenced by foreign cultures.  

“Of course. I have a test on Monday. I need all day tomorrow to study, and I can’t do that with comedown effects,” Kyungsoo defends. “I’m just renting a room, at the house, but I get dragged into the parties every now and then.”

“Wild night,” he sympathizes and relaxes himself because he knows the boy is now harmless. “Well, anyway, I can’t let you go home alone.” It is really dark outside. It is not safe for anyone to be walking around alone. “I already offered you a ride. Just give me your address, I’ll take you back.” Jongin grabs his phone and opens up his Map app while Kyungsoo protests.

“I’m glad that you even offered in the first place. I’d feel a lot better if I didn’t cause any more trouble tonight.”

“Honestly, it’s nothing, it’s against everything I believe to let you go right now.” Jongin hands his phone to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo pushes it away, but Jongin persists. And it is not just because Jongin thinks Kyungsoo is cute (and hopes that they can see each other again). He is just a nice guy.

He keeps pushing the phone onto the Kyungsoo, until he accepts. He types his address in.

“Continue 30m, then turn right on Jeononng-ro,” the automated female voice directs. Jongin side-eyes the destination.

“It’s not even that far from school,” Jongin notices.

“Still,” Kyungsoo whines, “you’ve already done enough. I don’t want to waste your gas too.”

“Well, since you friend abandoned you, it’s the least I can do.”

“Stole my car too, actually, right when he heard the police sirens,” Kyungsoo growls. “He ditched with some bag of meat and bones he’s been courting since the school year started.” Kyungsoo crosses his arms, “The turd was too busy with his boo to come pick me up, his best friend, from jail,” Kyungsoo empathises.

Jongin thinks to himself that he would not be very happy if his friend ditched him for a romantic interest either. He could tolerate it, but if his friend had run off with his car, then there would be no room for forgiveness. A good friend should swoop to his rescue, especially if he was at the police station.

Not that Kyungsoo seems too angry, pouty more than anything.

“So much for ‘I got your back, bro” Kyungsoo continues, and smiles when Jongin laughs “Thankfully, because of you, I was able to avoid the police. If they’d driven me back, I would’ve been screwed.”

“I’ll make sure you get home safely,” Jongin promises. Kyungsoo gives him two thumbs up and Jongin feels himself getting comfortable with Kyungsoo.

“What year are you in?” Kyungsoo inquires all of a sudden. “I’ve been assuming you’re younger than me.”

“Second,” Jongin answers as he makes a turn. He looks at his phone, it says that the ride is expected to be twenty minutes long.

“Oh I was right. I’m a third year.” Jongin was correct in thinking that Kyungsoo, despite looking years younger, was actually the hyung.

“Should I address you as Kyungsoo hyung, then,” Jongin suggests. The older said he could call him just by his name. 

“I’d prefer if we spoke informally,” Kyungsoo smiles. “I don’t like cute dongsaengs calling me hyung,” he admits.

Jongin almost crashes the car into a tree.

His heart beats too quickly for his liking. He hits his chest with his fist, trying to calm it down, and fakes a cough so to not look like a Neanderthal that shies at compliments.

His mind races too, with whether ‘cute dongsaeng’ is platonic or something more.

The older watches in amusement as he gathers himself, a corner of his mouth turned up into a half-smile half-smirk.

Jongin makes brief eye-contact and he gets a full blown heart smile in return.

He really hopes it means something more.

“So, Jongin, if I may speak informally,” Jongin nods enthusiastically, mulling possible romantic scenarios in his head, “what were you doing in the police station on Halloween exactly? I wasn’t exactly paying attention to you that much.”

“I was just there to pick up my lost wallet.” Jongin wheezes out, making sure to keep his eyes ahead.

Play it cool, he reminds himself.

“Someone returned it?” Kyungsoo sounds shocked. “With everything still in it?”

“Yup.” He is glad Kyungsoo is distracted and has forgotten that Jongin has not really replied to his comment.

“People like that exist still?”

Jongin hums, sympathizing with Kyungsoo's disbelief because he was shocked too.

“Wow,” Kyungsoo admires, “You got really lucky.”

Twice, he brags in his head.  A wallet returned safely and a fateful meeting with an attractive boy. It has been a good day.

“Real lucky,” he sighs. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at him and grins like he knows what Jongin is thinking about, but does not say anything.

The app interrupts them and says there is one left turn and they will be at their destination, on their left.

Jongin feels disappointed that such an interesting meeting is coming to an end. Jongin’s social skills are not always as good as he wants them to be, especially with strangers. However, he was able to talk to Kyungsoo and develop an infatuation with him in such a short period of time. There is a possibility that the ‘delinquent’ in the sweater vest may be interested in him as well.

The car comes to a stop when Jongin’s phone instructs them they are at the address.

There is silence before-

“Well-”

“I’d like-”

They both start talking and stop talking at the same time. They look at each other, giving the other the chance to talk, but neither speak.

Jongin lets out an awkward laugh. “This is your stop,” he states lamely.

Kyungsoo stares at him blankly. “It is,” he replies.

Jongin looks outside and sees the house that hosted the wild party. There are cups littered on the sidewalk and all the lights are on. There is probably a bigger mess inside, Jongin assumes.

Kyungsoo follows his gaze to the mess outside. “I’m making the traitor clean all of it,” he assures. “Anyway, I wanted to thank you again, for all your troubles tonight. You helped me a lot.”

“It was nothing. I was happy to help,” Jongin has repeated this, but really, in his opinion, he did not really do all that much.

“I still appreciated it a lot. I usually don’t lie as much, but today was an emergency.” Jongin understands, to the extent he can, and sympathizes with him.

“I’m glad everything was sorted out.” Jongin says hesitantly, “Hopefully, I’ll see you around at school.”  

“Hopefully,” Kyungsoo smiles. “But before that, I owe you a nice dinner.”

Jongin balks.

A date?! His immediately thinks, but then realizes it might just be thank him.

“You don’t have to do that.” It is hard for university students to get decent meals, unless they are committed to their health. Jongin finds it easier to order chicken. So, a dinner is actually a pretty obvious and beneficial way of helping a student. Jongin instructs his mind to stop interrupting the offer as however he wants.

“It’s the least I can do,” Kyungsoo argues. “I mean, you helped me out of jail and drove me home. I can’t just repay you with a simple ‘thank you’.”

Honestly, Jongin would like to opportunity to meet him under different circumstances. He has also been taught to not ask for reward for his deeds so he does not give up. “I don’t want you spending money on me. It would be too burdensome.” Yes, he pulls out the burden card.

“If money is a problem, I’ll cook for you.”

Jongin is just shocked. Some stranger is offering to cook for him, when his own roommate just throws him the phone when he complains about being hungry. His mind has been tamed, but his heart races at the idea of the older cooking for him.

 “That’s too much, hyung.” Still, he does not want to receive anything from him. He will settle for just asking him for his number and work up to courage to ask to meet up later on.

“I can’t just let you go without thanking you properly. You gave up some of your time for me, so I must do the same.” Jongin tries to speak against him but he is shushed. “This is how I was raised. I must repay you.”

Now Kyungsoo is using the ‘I was raised this way’ card.

Jongin is torn between what to do. He likes the certainty of knowing there is a planned meeting between them, but he also does not want to impose. Before he can come up with something to say, Kyungsoo grabs his phone with a ‘sorry, but let me borrow this for a second’ and taps around it and then playing with his own phone before returning it.

“I’ll text you when I’m free and we can mediate on something,” he suggests. Jongin simply nods, because he got his number without even having to ask for it. That made his life a lot easier.

 Kyungsoo is insistent, and seems like he’s going to stay there and argue with Jongin for as long as it takes. Jongin thinks there is no harm in working something out together because it give him to chance to talk the elder out of treating him, and spending more time together.

So he gives in.

“I’ll see you later then, Jongin,” Kyungsoo grins, giddy that he won. “It was nice meeting you.”

Jongin unlocks the door for him. “You too.”

 “Got you home safely, as I promised,” he adds.

Kyungsoo salutes. “A job well done.” Kyungsoo opens the door and steps out. “Thank you again.”

“No problem, at all.”  

The older closes the door and Jongin rolls down the window.

“You have the keys right?” Jongin asks him.

Kyungsoo shakes his pants, something (the keys) jingles in his pocket. He pokes his head through the window. “I’ll text you later.”

Jongin is excited at just the thought of it.

He really did get lucky tonight, he thinks as he beams at Kyungsoo. The older walks onto the sidewalk and waves at him.

Jongin starts the car. He looks outside and waves. Kyungsoo bows and continues to send little, but enthusiastic, waves as Jongin’s car begins to move.

Jongin watches him in the rear-view mirror, Kyungsoo waits a bit outside, watching the car before walking towards his house. Jongin turns a corner and the elder moves out of his sight.

He looks straight ahead, thinks over everything that happened and squeals.

 

 

It is when he gets home that he checks him phone.

There is a message, sent at least 15 minutes ago.

It reads:

Kyungsoo ♥.♥

Until our date  ^.~

 

 

 

 

---

It turned out meh~

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edited: 28/08/2015