Suho likes the world. It's a beautiful place, with beautiful things, and beautiful people that he knows are probably really great. It's just that some days he can't bring himself to venture out, can't work up the energy or the courage or the strength to leave the comfort of his small dorm room. On days like that, he rationalizes his choices with thoughts like "Don't push yourself," and "It's acceptable for you to feel this way," and "The fact that you're even at university is a big deal, alright?"

Except these thoughts aren't his own. They belong to someone else; someone close to him; someone who can't relate but tries his best to understand; someone who never makes Suho feel different or strange; someone who Suho firmly believes deserves better, yet he can't help wanting anyway. Indeed, these thoughts belong to Kai, but he's always more than willing to share them in non-confrontational notes slipped under Suho's door; in excited text messages when he knows Suho isn't prepared to deal with people, even if people just means Kai himself; in soft words of encouragement whispered to the elder on days when Suho does get to class, and then written down and slipped into textbooks to be found and remembered on days when Suho doesn't.

He needs that support, more than he realizes, and even on days when he has the ability within himself to experience the beauty he assumes in the world first hand, Suho's dependency on Kai is a strong one. Because some days are better than others, and while the anxiety are still there, bubbling threateningly just below the surface, they don't always drown him. On those days, Suho makes it to classes without external incident, and does his best to repress the fear every time a professor looks for a response, a classmate tries to talk with him, or a random person on the street even smiles his way. Kai is there for those days, too, just like with all the others, and Suho never really bothers to step back and question how they got like this in the first place, just clings to the one person in his life that brings his psyche no stress at all.

Except there are times when even Kai is too much for Suho. Not his person, so much as his exuberance and his extroversion. On the good days those aspects of Kai are a light that illuminates the creeping darkness of Suho's over-active imagination; but on the less good days—when Suho needs to be alone and recuperate, needs to let the fears take him for a while so he can attempt to better appreciate what is good in his life—Suho has a bad habit of assuming the worst about Kai, about everything.

He'd play the noble idiot if he could, would let Kai go if he could, but especially on those low days, Suho knows this is impossible. His darkest fear, in the ugliest part of himself, is that Kai will get tired of it all; will stop remembering that Suho has no control over the anxiety sometimes; will invest himself in someone who can better appreciate him, someone who's not broken Suho, someone else. But then Kai always manages to surprise Suho by his consistency and his attachment, because Kai guesses a little about the nature of this anxiety in particular, and on days when Suho can't help but shut him out, Kai doesn't let him.

It's more than the notes, the text messages, the reminders to be strong that appear when Suho's studying alone in his room and least expects it; because on days when he's unable to even study or check his phone or get out of bed, it's a soft knock at his door and a quiet voice that reassures "Hyung, I don't hate you, okay? You're important to me, remember that today." It's a a pile of papers in Kai's hands a day later, or two, or maybe even three, that Suho knows is the homework he's missed and the notes he wasn't there to take himself. It's the surprise drop off of food to his door when Suho's too worked up to eat anything, but Kai wants o remind him to try. It's the constant updates on Kai's day and invitations for Suho to join him, invitations that ring true even when Suho can't help wondering about their sincerity.

Even then, though, sometimes Kai is not enough and sometimes Suho can't pull himself out of it. That's incredibly rare, especially since his diagnosis was only ever imagined as "mild" at worst, and as such it only happens once, but Suho takes a semester off to go home and try getting a handle on life. He does this because he thinks he needs to, for himself, and not because Kai or anyone else around him made him feel wrong or bad or unequipped. For a while, this works, too, because at home there is a mother and a father and a sister who Suho sometimes thinks have to love him because that's how blood works, yet love him through those doubts, nevertheless. Away from school, though, there is no Kai, and Suho begins to realize he needs the other just as much, if not more, than a loving family and a stable home.

Kai sometimes updates Suho on life back at school, taking care never to accidentally pressure the elder with comments like "I miss you," or "I wish you were here," or "It's too bad you missed it," because even though Suho thinks he'd like to hear the first one, at least, he doesn't think he could handle the guilt for not being around to experience Kai's stories for himself. Instead, Kai messages personal update sorts of things like "I've figured out my major concentration!" and "My little brother lost his first tooth yesterday. Sehun was so excited and wanted to make sure his favorite Su-hyung knew about it. It's so cute how much he likes you!"

Usually these messages make Suho's days a little brighter, but when Kai writes something like that, Suho's heart aches. If only it were Kai who liked him, he wishes; if only Suho could be the kind of boyfriend someone as amazing as Kai needed; if only Suho wasn't what he is. But he is that, he is socially anxious—mildly or not—and he can't help it, even when it would maybe get him Kai.

Suho makes it back to school when he said he would, arrives with the same things he took when he left, but leaves a little of his brokenness at home, and carries on his person a new resolve, a little bit stronger resilience, a desire to once again see the world as beautiful and welcoming instead of too scary and too big. Kai is there, too, greeting Suho the same way he saw the elder off, with a careful hug and a buried face in a pale neck as Kai shows Suho in actions what Suho would never fully believe in words.

"I'm glad you're back," the action says. "You deserve this achievement," it says. "My life was a little less full without you here." Suho imagines this last one, a lot like he imagines so much else, but this is a little sweeter and less scary because it's only wishful thinking in Suho's head and not an actually verbalized pressure to fill a void Suho isn't sure he's able to.

"Let's hang out," Kai declares, offering no room for Suho to decline because the younger can tell that the elder's sort of exhausted, yet today remains a good day. Still, though, he knows what Suho needs to hear, and is careful to detail exactly what his invitation entails. "You, me, pizza, and Netflix." Kai's words don't contain any mention of "Let's catch up," or "Tell me how you've been," and don't leave room for Suho to agonize over their food choices, either. It might seem pushy, to some, but Suho knows this is Kai's way of just being there for him, and it's more comforting to Suho than anything else.

And they end up doing exactly what Kai said they would, no more and no less than that, and Suho likes that Kai is consistent in his silent consistency, even after Suho's been so long away. They sit side by side, stuffed full with pizza and content to share the weight of Kai's laptop on their legs while Kai chooses a movie, and Suho lets him. Or, at least, Suho's content. He'd thought Kai was too, until the younger shifts every few seconds, coughs awkwardly a few times, and generally makes Suho, well, anxious.

This is sort of new territory for them, mostly because Kai is a psychology major and knows a little about social anxiety, and is always so sweetly careful about not doing things that make Suho feel afraid. As such, Suho isn't quite sure what to do or how to react, or even what to say, so he moves away a little and tilts his head, letting his body do the talking when his brain can't find the words.

"Oh!" Kai remarks, loudly, and out of the blue, startling Suho out of a beginning spiral as the younger turns quickly to face the elder sitting beside him on Kai's bed. "No!"

Suho doesn't understand, and they aren't dating but this certainly feels like Kai is breaking up with him, so he just pulls a little farther away, letting his half of the laptop fall with a muffled thump off off of his lap and onto the mattress. "No." Kai repeats, a little less strongly this time, and it takes everything in Suho not to flinch. "Please, Hyung," Kai is quietly pleading suddenly, "I know you've no control over it, not really, but please don't be afraid of me too." The younger looks like he's about to cry, and all Suho can think is that he's somehow at fault for this.

"I don't—" he tries to start, "I can't—I'm sorry."

Kai shakes his head and doesn't cry, but inches forward so that he and Suho are sitting as close as when they started. "Don't be sorry," Kai breathes softly as he slowly, but surely, reaches across Suho's body to grasp the elder's hands in his own. "I'm not," Kai adds with a small smile.

"I don't understand," Suho finally says it out loud, but doesn't comment that what he doesn't comprehend is scary to him; Kai knows, Suho's positive. "And you," Suho takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second because it's taking a lot out of him to even be there, let alone having this conversation, and with Kai, too. "You were all twitchy and unsettled and not happy, and I've been gone for so long that I get it if we aren't really friends anymore." It's not, but he's finally garnered enough courage to be the noble idiot he thinks is necessary and he's planning to ride that wave until the strength leaves him. "I just wish you'd told me before the pizza because now I'm so full I'm not sure I could leave even if you wanted me to." His attempt to lighten the mood, for Kai's sake, falls a little flat, and there's that look on Kai's face again—the one that seems like he's holding back tears.

"Hyung," Kai stops Suho before the other's anxiety can make his self-deprecation get too out of hand. "Just stop, okay?" Suho gapes, but does as he's told, relieved that now Kai at least is going to tell him flat out that their friendship is over, relieved that he doesn't have to just sit there uncomfortably and wonder.

"You, Kim Suho, are one of the bravest people I know. I see you interact with the world and I see your love for it, even when you aren't able to obviously express that yourself, and I feel so, so privileged to be one of the few who know you like this. Who get to see you like this. For reasons I'll never understand, you let me get close enough to realize the cool and smart and special person hidden beneath the fear and anxiety, and I'm forever grateful because my life is enriched just by having you in it."

Suho wasn't ready, for any of it really, and the words Kai speaks aren't the ones Suho had been expecting, so he doesn't say anything in response because he has nothing to say. Because he has everything to say.

"And I'm not just saying this to calm you down, or make you feel better about yourself," Kai continues, popping perfect little holes in each of the balloons of anxiety that blow up to the surface at his shower of compliments, despite Suho's desperation to unquestioningly believe all of it. "I'm say this because it's true," Kai states firmly, his grip tightening as Suho's heart constricts in the same way, because suddenly it occurs to him that people like to say nice things before dropping a terrible bomb—good news and then bad news, that sort of thing.

"But you can't do this anymore?" Suho's voice is tentative because he knows what Kai will say and he's lost his brief noble idiocy by this point. "That's alright; it's for the best, I'm sure."

"Hyung!" Kai is very obviously frustrated, and that, like a lot of things Kai does, surprises Suho once more. "I'm not telling you how great you are so you'll have something nice to remember me by when I leave you, because I'm not leaving. Not now, not ever." Suho doesn't quite understand how Kai always seems to know exactly what to say, but he's eternally grateful, regardless. "I like you, hyung," Kai confesses shyly as Suho's self-confidence skyrockets through the roof at just those four little words. "And I know how sometimes you really need to consider things before you make a choice about something, and I don't want to pressure you into anything, but I like you."

Suho would have interrupted if he'd been able to, because he'd liked Kai for a long time now and the decision to be together wasn't one that required any contemplation at all. Still, it took him a while to say anything at all; even though his heart knew what it wanted Suho to say, his brain had a battle to win against fear before he could.

"I'm no good for you, though," Suho argued, as the anxiety faked a retreat only to restage a valiant comeback against his heart's deepest wishes. "Some days I can't even leave my room. I'm not boyfriend material for anyone, especially you. And you're so good to me that you deserve the same in return."

Kai shrugs, but says nothing, trying to give Suho the time he needs to process aloud. "But the heart wants what the heart wants," Suho continues thoughtfully as he actively beats back at the encroaching anxiety. "And my heart wants you."

Taking that as a chance to speak once more, Kai whispers softly as he pulls Suho into his arms, "I'm not sure if you heard me earlier, hyung, but I clearly said that you weren't just good for me—you're the best. And of course I treat you well!" He adds this when Suho scoffs under his breath and tries to accept Kai's words at face value but can't. "That's what you're supposed to do when you love someone."

Suho's response to Kai's admission is sluggish, but he does manage a surprised "You love me?" from where he's currently pressing his face against the soothing rhythm of the younger's heartbeat.

"I'm not sure yet," Kai confesses honestly, which Suho appreciates because sometimes truthful hesitancy reassures more than empty words ever could. "But I think I'm starting to."

Social anxiety is a real thing for some people, and I'm not pretending to understand, but I did my best with this and I hope you all can appreciate that effort, at least.