The first time Jongdae meets Sehun, he’s upside down, dangling from the monkey bars by his legs. Sehun is staring up at the rungs, like he wants to reach them, but he can’t. Jongdae stares at him and the boy stares back. They have a silent staring match for several long minutes before Jongdae reaches for the rungs with his hands and jumps off, feet touching solid ground again.

“Do you want to get up there?” he asks, gesturing with his hand in a way that can be referring to anything from the dragonfly just above his head to the unreachable sky above them.

The boy nods, biting his lower lip hesitantly like he isn’t sure he wants help from a stranger. One of his front teeth is missing, while the other has barely grown in.

“I’ll help you,” Jongdae offers. He doesn’t wait for the boy to give him permission as he steps up beside him and putting his hands on the boy’s waist. “Here, I’m going to push you up, and you grab on to the monkey bars, okay?”

Jongdae manages to hoist him up a few inches, enough for the boy to grab onto the rungs. His fingers touch the rungs, but they slip at the last second. There’s a moment when Jongdae’s split between supporting the boy and moving away, but then it’s too late and they’re both crashing to the ground.

Jongdae winces as his head hits the concrete. When he turns over, the boy is already standing, a small frown on his face.

“That didn’t turn out the way I thought it would,” he says. “My dad always does that for me, except he’s taller. And stronger.” There’s just a hint of resentment in his words, but Jongdae chooses to ignore it as he stares up at the boy from where he’s sitting on the ground.

“Nice to meet you too. What’s your name? I’m Jongdae.”

“Sehun.” He’s already looking up at the monkey bars again, attention no longer focused on Jongdae, but Jongdae isn’t one to give up so easily.

“I’m seven. How old are you?” Jongdae asks, pushing himself off the ground. Sehun barely comes up to his shoulders. He finds it cute that, even if Sehun is smaller than him, he’s just as tough. He’s more fun than Jongdae’s baby cousins, who really aren’t that interesting behind the perfect pictures they send every once in a while. Jongdae’s learned firsthand all the tears hidden behind those innocent eyes.

“Almost six.” Sehun’s tone is almost defensive, and Jongdae can’t hold back his laugh. “What?”

Jongdae bites his lip, although he can’t stop smiling. The expression on Sehun’s face reminds him of the way he feels when grownups laugh when he does something that wasn’t intended to be funny—like a joke he’s not part of. You’re cute, he wants to tell Sehun, except he also knows how annoying it is when grownups tell him that he’s cute. It’s like a code for saying, You’re too young to be taken seriously. “Let’s try again,” he says instead. “I’ll get it right this time, I promise.”

Sehun hesitates for a few moments before he nods. “Okay.”

The second time, Sehun does manage to hold on to the rungs. He even manages to get to the third bar, but he misses the fourth, his hands slipping as he falls to his knees. “My dad usually holds on to me until I get to the last one,” he tells Jongdae, like it’s Jongdae’s fault that he fell.

“Oh. Do you want me to hold you, then?” Jongdae asks. This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he came out to the park today, but he finds that he doesn’t really mind.

“No. I want to do this on my own.” Sehun stares up at the monkey bars, and there’s a determined look on his face when he gets up again.

Sehun doesn’t ask for help, and Jongdae doesn’t offer this time. He isn’t really eager to get his head slammed into the ground again, so he stands back and watches as Sehun reaches for the bars. He’s just an inch from reaching it with the tips of his fingers, but evidently, he leans too far, stumbling off the rungs under his feet. Jongdae reacts a moment too late, stepping forward just as Sehun pushes himself off the ground and dusts off his hands.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jongdae asks, feeling guilty even if he probably wouldn’t be much help anyway. At least Sehun doesn’t look like he’s near tears yet.

“I’m fine.” Sehun lets out an agitated sigh, shaking his head.

“If you want… I can help you get up there. Show you how to get on top of the monkey bars,” Jongdae offers, and Sehun looks at him dubiously.

“You’d do that?”

Jongdae shrugs. To him, getting on top of the monkey bars had been harder than doing the monkey bars, but it’s better than supporting Sehun all the way across the monkey bars. “It’s not that hard.” Except it is, since you have to maintain a strong grip and swing your legs high enough so they catch on to one of the rungs, and then pull yourself up while finding a way to balance at the top.

“I’d like that,” Sehun says, and then he smiles. It’s a bright, eye catching smile, and Jongdae can’t help thinking about how much prettier it’d look once Sehun’s front teeth grow in.

It takes many long, agonizing minutes and several terrifying moments when one of them almost slips, but eventually, they both make it on top of the monkey bars.

“It’s so high from up here,” Sehun marvels, gripping the rung under him tightly as he looks around. “Almost higher than my dad’s shoulders.” He reaches out as a dragonfly flies past them, hand stretching out to catch it. The dragonfly barely manages to evade him. Sehun teeters at the edge, just one light push from falling off.

Jongdae reaches out and catches him by the hand, pulling him back until he’s not in immediate danger of falling. His mother would ground him forever if she knew that he was responsible for the injury of such a small kid. “Careful,” he cautions.

Sehun looks up at him, and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. It’s not as wide as the one he had before, but Jongdae will take what he can get. “Thanks.”

Sehun’s palms are rough and his skin is peeling. When Jongdae brushes his thumb lightly over his palm, Sehun hisses softly. After a few moments, Jongdae releases his hand. “It’s not a problem,” he says.



Jongdae sees Sehun often after that. At first, it’s just because they happen to be in the park at the same time, but as they get to know each other more, it becomes Jongdae inviting Sehun over to his house, Sehun eating dinner there, and Sehun staying for the night. And when they start school, even though they’re a year apart, they still spend time together during the weekends.

It only changes when Jongdae starts middle school. He doesn’t get to see Sehun much during the first few weeks of school, but he makes sure to invite Sehun to his twelfth birthday party.

Sehun arrives half an hour earlier than his other guests, helping Jongdae’s mom arrange the cookies. They eat a few while they’re still soft and warm from the oven, waiting for the other guests to arrive. Sehun’s present, wrapped in shiny blue paper, sits next to the two presents Jongdae had received from his parents.

Jongdae loses track of Sehun as his friends start coming in, though. There’s more than enough to keep them all occupied, and he can’t keep track of everyone at once. He doesn’t see Sehun again until after dinner, when there’s a break before it’s time to cut the cake. Jongdae finds Sehun sitting on the stairs with a can of Coke by his side.

Jongdae sits down next to him, nudging his shoulder lightly. “What are you doing here?”

“Coke is gross.” Sehun leans into Jongdae’s side. “Are you going to cut the cake yet?”

“Soon.” Jongdae puts an arm around Sehun’s shoulder, a silent apology for leaving Sehun alone. He knows that Sehun doesn’t know anyone here, that he must be uncomfortable to be just sitting around.

After the party, Sehun stays behind and helps Jongdae throw away the wrapping paper. “You’re still staying over, right?” Jongdae asks, putting the bows and ribbons in a neat pile.

“Yeah. My mom’s picking me up at ten tomorrow.” Sehun hands Jongdae another ribbon, balling the wrapping paper and adding it to the discard pile.

“That’s great. We still have time to watch a movie and maybe we can eat the leftover cake for breakfast.” Jongdae doubts they will, but it’s always good to dream big. If he really has to, he can pull the birthday card. He grabs a bow, putting it on Sehun’s head and laughing as Sehun glares at him.

“Why do you even keep these?” Sehun asks, pulling the bow out of his hair and throwing it at Jongdae.

Jongdae shrugs, scooping up as much of the discard pile as he can. “They’re good for decorating gifts. And your hair,” he adds, grinning at Sehun because he’s a safe distance away now.

Sehun’s stayed over at Jongdae often enough that he keeps several pair of clothes in Jongdae’s closet, and he has his own toothbrush and cup in the bathroom. It’s surprising, how much Sehun has grown over the years. He’s no longer a head shorter than Jongdae; now, he’s barely an inch shorter. It makes Jongdae want to rise on his toes sometimes, and he knows that it won’t be long before Sehun passes him.

“You can use the bathroom first,” Sehun says, sitting down on Jongdae’s bed and hugging his large teddy bear. It’s life sized, taking up a whole corner of Jongdae’s room, and Jongdae would have stowed it away along with the rest of his childhood toys and stuffed animals if Sehun didn’t like holding it so much each time he came over.

“Let’s brush our teeth together,” Jongdae says, grabbing onto Sehun’s wrist and pulling him out of the bathroom.

It’s a slightly uncomfortable fit, their elbows bumping as they bend over the small sink to brush their teeth, but Jongdae doesn’t mind. Jongdae’s bed is almost too small for both of them as well, especially since Jongdae is used to sprawling across the entire surface. They’re both used to this, though, and Jongdae moves as close to Sehun as he can so he doesn’t have to fear falling over the side of the bed.

He still remembers the first time they had a sleepover together, when Sehun had brought a sleeping bag. Sehun doesn’t anymore, and they’ve gotten used to sleeping in the same bed together and waking up with their limbs entangled together. It’s a little too close, something that Jongdae hasn’t done with anyone else.

“Hey,” Jongdae begins, after a few moments of silence in the dark. His curtains are pulled closed and his nightlight is on, but it only illuminates a small corner of the room. The light doesn’t reach far, so he can’t see Sehun’s face. “I’m sorry if you didn’t have fun today.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Sehun says, shifting slightly in the bed. His foot brushes Jongdae’s ankle, and he seems to move until he’s facing Jongdae, his back to the wall. “Today was about you, anyway.”

“Still.” Jongdae yawns, muffling it with the back of his hand. “It’s more fun with you. Next time, I’m only inviting you to my birthday.”

“That wouldn’t be fun.” Sehun’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper. The voices outside the bedroom door tell Jongdae that his parents are in their room, probably getting ready to sleep.

“Who cares.” Jongdae brings his blanket up to his chin and slides his hand under the blanket as well, so that it’s next to Sehun’s. “Hey, sing happy birthday to me.”

“Stop teasing,” Sehun says, but he complies, his voice soft and sweet in the darkness.

Jongdae knows that Sehun would be embarrassed if he commented about his voice, that Sehun might not even continue if he interrupted him. So he doesn’t tell him how he’d like to record Sehun singing, just once, so that he could keep this moment forever.



The first time Sehun introduces Jongin to Jongdae, Jongdae doesn't think much of it. It happens after Sehun's first dance rehearsal during Sehun's freshman year. Jongdae goes backstage to congratulate Sehun and fix his hair, and Sehun laughs as he simultaneously ducks away from Jongdae and leans into his touch.

"You didn't get me flowers?" Sehun teases when he sees Jongdae walking empty-handed towards him.

"Here." Jongdae reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small origami flower that fits in the palm of his hand. It's wrinkled and warm from being in his pocket for so long.

Sehun complains about Jongdae's cheapness as he takes the flower, but his wide smile gives him away.

"It's the thought that counts," Jongdae says. His eyes flicker to the boy standing by Sehun, who's been watching them uncertainly for a while now. Sehun follows his gaze, starting a little like he'd just realized that the boy was there.

"Oh, this is Jongin. He's in my class," Sehun says, like he's giving an explanation as to why this kid is listening in on their conversation.

"Hi, Jongin," Jongdae says, and Jongin nods and says a soft hi back.

Jongdae doesn't think much of it then, but the next time he goes to one of Sehun's dance rehearsals, he notices.

Jongdae has never been remotely interested in dancing before. He knows nearly nothing about dance and can't judge, but there's something about Jongin that demands attention.

It's near the end of the recital, and by this point, Jongdae has nearly lost interest. He's already planning out how to get to Sehun through this crowd of people, where to go after this. It's one of the last solo performances of the evening, and Jongdae only looks up from examining his fingernails because he hears a name that he recognizes.

Jongin Kim.

There's something so fluid about his movements, his steps entrancing as he follows the simple beat. There's an effortless grace as he dances, the kind that doesn't suit a slightly awkward young teenager who hasn't quite gotten used to his limbs yet.

Sehun had only started dancing a few years ago, picking it up as a hobby. But Jongin, Jongdae hears from the rumors, has been dancing competitively since he was a child.

It's really no surprise, then, considering the ease that Jongin has with being onstage. There's no hint of nervousness throughout his performance, his natural stage presence only adding to the charm. For a moment, Jongdae forgets that he's only watching a high school dance team.

This time, when Jongdae meets Sehun afterwards, he makes sure to congratulate Jongin as well. Jongin just smiles, inclining his head in a way that's so contradictory to his stage presence just minutes ago that Jongdae has a sudden urge to hug him.

"You've got a lot to learn," he tells Sehun, taking Sehun's hand in his own and brushing the back of Sehun's hand with his thumb. The skin feels too cold, so he keeps rubbing his thumb over it, like it would be enough to keep Sehun warm. It's the post-performance shivers, he supposes.

"I know," Sehun says, smiling as he looks over at Jongin.

Sehun does work harder afterwards, spending more time with Jongin during lunch and after school. Jongdae doesn't see Sehun much on schooldays, but he can't complain, not when Sehun's so passionate about something, the energy surprisingly contagious. It makes him pleased, seeing Sehun grow up and branch out, but at the same time, it makes him want to just keep Sehun in his pocket.

Jongdae sees Jongin one day after school. Sehun takes carpool, which means that he has to wait at the front of the school each afternoon. The buses are mostly located in the back. It's there that Jongdae spots the younger walking towards the bus with his head lowered as he texts on his phone. "You know, there's a 'look up' sign," he says, walking up beside Jongin and smiling disarmingly when Jongin does up from his phone. He points at the ground, at the boundary where the sidewalk ends, where the words look up are written in caps and white print on the ground.

As far as Jongdae knows, the message was written by the junior class a few years ago as a junior class prank after the seniors' graduation. Most of the evidences of the pranks had been removed after a week, but for whatever reason, the cleaning staff had purposefully left the handwritten message, no doubt believing that it served as a decent warning for the students.

Jongin looks surprised for a moment before he laughs, eyes crinkling in the sun. "You don't have to worry about me running into the bus or anything."

"You take the bus too?" Jongdae asks, and Jongin nods. "How far away do you live?"

He ends up talking to Jongin far longer than he'd intended, with Jongin sitting in a seat in his bus and Jongdae awkwardly standing in the aisle. He'd wanted to get to know Jongin more, but he'd never found the right time. This might not be the perfect time, but it's as good as any. He asks about Sehun's progress, gets Jongin to talk a little about his experience in dancing, and manages to get Jongin's phone number.

Jongdae only runs off of the bus when the bus driver starts to pull away from the school. He leaves with a promise to text Jongin and an apology to the clearly annoyed bus driver.

He misses his own bus, which was further ahead in the line and has already pulled away. It means that he has to walk several blocks to the nearest public bus station, and it means using up some of his allowance money that he'd been planning to save up. But Jongdae thinks back to the bright smiles and shared laughter, and he doesn't really mind.




"I didn't introduce you to him so that you guys would date," Sehun says. His voice is light, teasing, but the furrow between his eyebrows gives him away.

"I didn't think we would, either," Jongdae confesses. He hadn't asked for Jongin's number knowing that it would lead to texts between classes, midnight calls, and Jongin's eventual suggestion, "We should date."

Jongdae had agreed, if only because he couldn't see anything wrong with dating Jongin. It was easy enough to talk to him, and even though they don't see each other much, it's not difficult to keep this relationship going. It means nothing more than Jongin sending him a pickup line from time to time, or Jongdae seeking Jongin out between classes.

"You could have told me earlier," Sehun says. "It's been a week already."

Jongdae leans back into the couch. He'd invited Sehun over for the day, and they'd put in a movie that Sehun had brought over. It's playing on the screen now, even though neither of them has been paying attention to it in the past few minutes. "I didn't mean to. I just don't see you around anymore."

It's not intentional, but with both of them having different schedules that never meet up throughout the week, they haven't had the time to sit down and really talk about anything. It's the longest Jongdae has gone without hearing Sehun complain about the cafeteria lunch or the pop quiz the teacher had given out last block.

"We should change that," Sehun says, and Jongdae quietly agrees. Sehun moves closer so that he can lean his head on Jongdae's shoulder. "How strongly do you feel about him?"

Jongdae shrugs, as much as he can with Sehun's head on his shoulder. "He's okay. Nice to talk to."

Sehun makes a soft noise, shifting a little closer. Jongdae rests his cheek on the top of Sehun's head as he turns his attention back to the movie.



Christmas Eve had always been a time when Jongdae's family would get together. There aren't many of them on this side of the ocean, but he certainly has enough younger cousins that he and Sehun have to act as babysitters while the adults sit in the kitchen over several glasses of wine.

Over the years, it's become customary for Sehun's family to come over as well, and most years, they even stay the entire night. He and Sehun have woken up together Christmas morning and ran downstairs in excitement to find their presents when they were younger. When they got a little older, they even stayed awake and were finally able to identify the ever-elusive Santa Claus as Jongdae's father.

They sit side by side on the couch as a Christmas movie plays on the television. It’s a Disney movie, one that Jongdae thinks he’s watched many times over. If his cousins notice, they don’t say anything; their eyes are fixed on the screen, watching raptly.

A quick glance to his right tells Jongdae that Sehun’s attention is fixed on the movie as well. It makes Jongdae smile, his mouth opening to tease Sehun, but then his phone vibrates.

It’s a text from Jongin, but Jongdae hesitates, his thumb hovering over the screen. It’s probably harmless, and he’d love talking to Jongin any other time, but it just feels weird right now. He knows that, if he starts texting Jongin, he won’t be able to stop. There have been nights when he’d just sit in bed, the only light coming from his phone held inches from his face, and have long conversations with Jongin through text messages. It’s not healthy, if Jongdae’s fatigue during the day is anything to go by, and it’s certainly not something Jongdae wants to do during Christmas.

He ends up unlocking his phone anyway, clicking on Jongin’s name and opening the text.

what are you doing right now? Jongin asks, following the words by an unnecessary amount of emoticons.

“Who are you texting?” Sehun’s no longer looking at the television. He’s staring indiscreetly at Jongdae’s phone, head leaning closer so he can look over Jongdae’s shoulder.

“Jongin.” Jongdae quickly types out a reply—watching a movie—before locking his phone and putting it back into his pocket. “Are you watching the movie?”

“I’ve seen it so many times before. Is this the only Christmas movie you guys have?” Sehun’s head is resting on Jongdae’s shoulder and he’s mumbling excuses about how cold it is. The heater is turned up and there’s no reason to complain, but Jongdae doesn’t say anything, just puts an arm around Sehun to bring him closer.

“It’s a classic,” Jongdae says, running his fingers through Sehun’s hair. It’s soft and warm, a contrast to the way Sehun shivers under his touch. “Hey, you want to go outside?”

“It’s snowing right now.” Sehun sits up anyway, pulling his socks up higher as he grabs the jacket he’d draped over the back of Jongdae’s couch. “Come on, let’s sneak out before your mom catches us.”

Jongdae’s mother catches them anyway when the security system of the house lets out a loud beep as the front door opens. She doesn’t do anything to stop them, just tells them to make sure they’re wearing enough and to get back inside before it’s too late.

“I’m going to freeze to death,” Sehun says, sitting down on the ground and curling into a ball as he hugs his knees to his chest. “Why did you want to come out anyway?”

Jongdae laughs. The sound is surprisingly loud in the otherwise quiet place. “It’s snowing.” He goes to the porch to turn on the lights, even if they do little to illuminate the front yard. “Come on.” He pulls Sehun’s arm, and when Sehun refuses to move, he scoops a handful of snow with one hand and throws it at Sehun.

“What are you, five?” Sehun says, but he gets up, forming a snowball of his own.

Jongdae tilts his head back to catch a snowflake on his tongue. It doesn’t taste like anything, and most of his senses have been numbed by the persistent cold, but he does it for the gesture. Sehun chooses to throw his snowball then, hitting Jongdae in the face with a cold shock.

Jongdae wipes his face, trying to convey his extreme displeasure as he does so, but it just makes Sehun laugh louder. Somehow, the sound of Sehun’s laugh makes Jongdae smile too, makes him feel warm even if his body is slowly being taken over by the bitter winter wind.

That doesn’t make him go any easier on Sehun, though. He bends to form another snowball, his mind set on getting Sehun back.

It turns into a snowball fight from there, and ends with Jongdae tackling Sehun to the ground. He can’t feel his nose anymore and his lips are probably cracked from laughing so much, but there’s only happiness as he stares down at Sehun.

“You’re cheating,” Sehun says, interrupting Jongdae from his thoughts.

Jongdae rolls off of Sehun into the snow. Sehun’s body is the only warmth he can feel right now, and it’s like the snow between them is melting from their combined heat. “Aren’t the stars pretty?”

“What stars? You mean the satellites?”

As if on cue, the star Jongdae had been staring at blinks. Jongdae fixes his eyes on the falling snow instead. “No, I mean the lights on Santa Claus’s sleigh.”

He almost falls asleep like that, bundled up in layers and surrounded by snow. He opens his eyes again when Sehun leans over and tries to poke him through his clothes.

“You’re going to get sick like that,” Sehun says. He offers a hand to help Jongdae get up, and Jongdae accepts it. Sehun’s hand is so cold, but Jongdae’s probably isn’t much better. He doesn’t let go even when he’s on his feet, holding on as they walk back into the house. He doesn’t let go until Sehun’s hand is warmer.



Afterwards, Jongdae makes an effort to spend more time with Sehun. It’s Sehun who responds to his last minute, panicked text messages. When Jongdae can’t find anything for Jongin’s birthday that’s only a day away, Sehun accompanies him to shops at night, walking with him and patiently waiting for Jongdae to decide on his purchase. He helps Jongdae carry the bags back, holding Jongdae’s hand as they walk down the sidewalk. With Sehun’s hand in his and the lightly falling snow on his shoulders, the bitter chill of the winter’s wind seems so far away.

The snow melts as winter turns into spring, but the cold winds don’t die away for the next few weeks. There are nights when the wind howls through the trees, conveying the agony of loss with its tuneless notes.

Sehun shows up unannounced one day, kicking his shoes off at the front door and dropping his jacket on the couch before running up to Jongdae’s room. “Should I beat you or Jongin up?” is the first thing he asks.

Jongdae sets down his pencil slowly, staring at Sehun. His cheeks are a light pink in color from the sting of cold outside and the contrasting warmth inside. “What are you talking about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jongdae blinks before he gets up so he doesn’t have to tilt his head as far back to talk to Sehun. “It just happened today.”

“You didn’t think I should know right away? I had to hear it from Jongin.” There’s a clear note of annoyance in Sehun’s voice.

“I was going to tell you, I just forgot.” Jongdae leans back against his desk, his fingertips gripping the solid wood.

“Tell me what happened,” Sehun says.

“It just wasn’t working.” Jongdae shrugs. It hadn’t been that big of a deal, really. Jongin had been the one to bring it up, saying that as much as he liked Jongdae, he didn’t think that their being in a relationship was a good idea. Jongdae had agreed, and maybe that should have said something, how easy it was to break up with Jongin.

“That’s it?” Sehun still looks doubtful, his hands loosely clenched in fists at his sides.

Jongdae smiles. The furrow of Sehun’s eyebrows and the inquisitive tone of his voice are endearing. He steps forward and hugs Sehun, burying his face into the soft cotton of Sehun’s sweater. “That’s it.”

It only takes a moment before Sehun hugs back, resting his cheek on top of Jongdae’s head. “You’re not sad or anything?”

“Why would I be sad?” Jongdae counters, laughing a little. “I still have you, and I still have Jongin. It’s not like breaking up means we won’t see each other again.”

Sehun makes an agitated noise in the back of his throat that Jongdae feels more than he actually hears. “You guys won’t be awkward around each other or anything?”

“We won’t. Promise,” Jongdae adds, smiling when Sehun drops his arm from around Jongdae’s waist to take Jongdae’s hand, linking their pinkies together.

“Good.” Sehun sighs as he looks down at their entwined pinkies. “Hey, if you’re ever upset, I’m here, okay?” They both know this and it’s not something that they usually say aloud, but Jongdae appreciates the words anyway.

“I know,” he says, smiling as he properly holds Sehun’s hand. Sehun’s fingers are too cold, and Jongdae puts his other hand over Sehun’s in an attempt to warm it up more quickly. “Why aren’t you with Jongin?” he asks, sitting down on the edge of his bed. Homework can wait.

“Because if he was upset, he’d say something.” Sehun lies on the bed next to Jongdae, and after staring at last year’s calendar that’s still hanging on his wall, Jongdae lies down beside him.

They stare up at the ceiling in silence before Jongdae reaches for the MP3 player on his nightstand. “Here.” He gives one of the earphones to Sehun, putting the other in his ear. The song starts playing, drowning out the sound of the wind outside.

Jongdae closes his eyes and he falls asleep like that, holding Sehun’s hand as music plays by his ear.



They drift further apart when they go into college. Although they still live in the same city, just less than half an hour apart when there’s no college, they don’t see each other often.

Jongdae tries to visit Sehun when he first goes to college. The first few weeks, when he’d still been adjusting, he’d been unexpectedly homesick, and he’d text Sehun often. He went back home nearly every week his freshman year, and he attended Sehun’s graduation.

But this year, their schedules haven’t been matching up. Jongdae has taken up a part time job at night, and Sehun’s classes are usually in the morning, before Jongdae has even woken up. Where Jongdae’s inbox once mostly consisted of Sehun’s messages, these days, it’s just a few pleasantries exchanged throughout the day.

It’s why Jongdae doesn’t meet Sehun’s boyfriend until winter break that year, three months after Sehun first tells him that he’d met someone.

I’m bringing my boyfriend to dinner, Sehun tells Jongdae just hours before their dinner together.

Jongdae texts back a quick okay, even though Sehun’s wording hadn’t left much room for argument.

It was supposed to be just the two of them for dinner, a time for them to catch up and fill each other in on the latest things that had happened. But Jongdae has wanted to meet Sehun’s boyfriend for a while now.

It’s why he gets to the restaurant just a few minutes earlier, making an effort to dress and look less casual than the shorts and T-shirt he’d originally planned for the event.

Zhang Yixing, Sehun had told him over their phone calls, was the same age as Jongdae. He had a sweet smile and a sweeter laugh, and was kind and smart and the perfect boyfriend material.

Meeting Yixing in person only confirms those attributes. Jongdae smiles as he shakes Yixing’s hand and watches with reluctant approval as Yixing insists on pulling out the chair for Sehun.

It feels weird, watching Yixing reach over Sehun’s shoulder to point at something on the menu and laugh into Sehun’s ear. It’s a spot that used to be Jongdae’s and Jongdae’s only, and Jongdae wonders briefly if this is the way Sehun had felt when he’d been dating Jongin.

Except now, Jongdae is watching a little boy grow up, the difference spelled in the way Sehun deliberately brushes his hand against Yixing’s as they eat or when Sehun leans into Yixing’s touches ever so slightly.

Dinner is more like Sehun and Yixing and then Jongdae, even though Sehun is eagerly filling Jongdae in on what’s been happening in his life. He listens attentively as Jongdae talks, but Jongdae doesn’t miss the way Sehun’s eyes flicker to Yixing sometimes.

It feels weird, even if it really shouldn’t, because Jongdae should never have gotten so comfortable in a position that was never really his to take. He looks at Yixing and wonders, almost idly, why he’s trying so hard to find faults in him—in the way Yixing’s elbows are leaning on the table and the slight messiness of Yixing’s hair.

When they finish dinner and the waiter comes with their bill, both Yixing and Jongdae reach for their wallets. The waiter looks between them, staring at the two credit cards, unsure which one to take.

Sehun ends up solving the situation, pulling Jongdae’s arm down and telling him, “You can just invite me to lunch later.”

As much as Jongdae tries to pick out Yixing’s faults, he ends up liking Yixing anyway. He doesn’t think that there’s anyone he’d trust more with Sehun, and he tells Yixing as much when Sehun leaves for the bathroom.

Yixing laughs, the dimple on his right cheek clearly defined. “That’s good. I was worried.” He tilts his head in an almost thoughtful expression. “Sehun just said he was going to introduce me to one of his friends, but it felt like I was meeting the parents already.” He smiles and Jongdae smiles back a beat later, uncertain as to whether or not Yixing’s just teasing him.

“I give you my approval,” Jongdae says, smiling wider when Yixing laughs loudly. It’s easy to see why Sehun likes Yixing as much, considering Yixing’s easily approachable and friendly nature. “Just don’t do anything to hurt Sehun,” he adds. While he doubts that Yixing would purposefully do anything, it’s all part of the speech he’s required to give as Sehun’s closest friend.

“I won’t,” Yixing says. He’s still smiling, but there’s unmistakable firmness in his voice.

“What are you guys talking about?” Sehun asks, walking up to them.

Jongdae takes a sip of his glass instead of answering, and Yixing coughs into his fist, obviously trying to hide a smile. Sehun looks between them suspiciously.

“Jongdae wasn’t telling you embarrassing stories about my life, was he?” Sehun asks.

“I wasn’t,” Jongdae says.

“You’ll have to tell me later,” Yixing says.

“Then what were you talking about?” There’s a hint of a pout on Sehun’s lips.

Jongdae reaches across the table to mess with Sehun’s hair. “Nothing.”

Sehun still doesn’t look like he believes them, but Yixing takes his arm. “Hey, do you want to go now?” he asks, and Sehun nods, seeming to forget about the subject.

“Yixing’s taking me back,” Sehun tells Jongdae, when they’re standing outside the restaurant in the cold night air. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he adds, and Jongdae nods, waving as he watches Sehun walk away with Yixing.

Sehun’s smiling at Yixing, swinging their clasped hands as they walk. Jongdae turns and walks in the other direction.



“I’m going to find Yixing,” Jongdae says, but Sehun takes his hand.

“Don’t bother.” His eyes are too bright under the stars. “He’s probably already asleep.”

“I told him…” Jongdae sighs, leaning against the wall and stretching his legs out onto the steps below him. He can still hear the loud music coming from Sehun’s apartment. It’s the last day of school, which naturally calls for a celebration. Jongdae had been in one of his friends’ apartments, but he’d run out the moment Sehun had called. He’d even taken a taxi, risking the high fees just to get here sooner.

The situation almost makes Jongdae want to say, I told you so, but he hadn’t. He should have known, he thinks as he pulls Sehun closer.

Sehun scoots down a step. It’s more comfortable for Sehun to lean his head against Jongdae’s shoulder this way. Jongdae pats Sehun’s head, absentmindedly running fingers through Sehun’s hair.

“I knew this was going to happen,” Sehun says after a while, his words almost lost in the stillness if Jongdae wasn’t sitting so close to him. “I just didn’t think…”

They’d both known that Yixing was just an exchange student, and he would have to go back once the school year was over. It doesn’t make it any easier for them, though—for Sehun, who’s trying to blink back tears, and for Jongdae, who’s trying to hold him as best as he can.

“You can go back if you want.” Sehun’s playing with the bracelets on his arm, several strands of black and white string braided together. He’s had them since they were in middle school, and the ends are frayed now, but he still refuses to take them off. “It’s not that much fun, sitting out here.”

“You don’t have to pretend.” Jongdae lays his chin on top of Sehun’s head, smiling when Sehun squirms. “You know that.”

Jongdae turns his head to the side, pressing his cheek against Sehun’s hair. He brushes his fingers over Sehun’s bracelets before linking their fingers together. From this angle, he can’t see Sehun’s face, so he’s surprised when he feels a tear drop onto the back of his hand.

Sehun jerks his hand out of Jongdae’s grasp, bringing it up to wipe at his eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.” He laughs, the sound too sharp and hollow.

Jongdae frowns because Sehun’s trying too hard, when he shouldn’t have to try. They’ve known each other since they were kids, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen all of Sehun’s sides, and Sehun his. “Acting like what? A human?”

Sehun shakes his head, but he leans a little more into Jongdae. “It just feels like everyone’s leaving.”

It’s part of growing up, Jongdae thinks, placing an arm around Sehun’s waist. “I’m not going anywhere,” he points out.

“You promise?” Sehun asks, and Jongdae hums in agreement.

Sehun doesn’t say anything after that, but Jongdae can feel the slight shakiness in his breath evening out as the minutes pass. He keeps holding Sehun, closing his eyes as he matches his breathing with Sehun’s.



After Sehun graduates from college, he moves in with Jongdae. They’re studying for their master’s degrees together, and sometimes, Sehun will go into Jongdae’s room late at night. They’ll sit on Jongdae’s bed, finishing papers and reading assignments late into the night with the lights off, their laptops throwing harsh glares into their faces.

Sometimes, when Jongdae walks into the kitchen early in the morning to find Sehun making breakfast for them, it surprises him how much Sehun’s grown up, that it’s Sehun who’s helping Jongdae reach for the dishes stowed in the highest cabinets rather than the other way around. And other times, when Jongdae has to close Sehun’s laptop and put it on the desk when Sehun falls asleep over his assignments, he wakes up to find Sehun wrapped around him, their limbs entangled under the blankets. It’s still the same as those nights, years ago, when they’d have sleepovers together and Jongdae would wake up to the sunlight gently framing Sehun’s face. They’d laugh when they’d look at each other, complaining about drool and snoring as they stumbled into the bathroom together.

When it rains one weekend, they end up sitting in bed reading, sharing earphones and a blanket. And when Sehun gets sick a few days later, Jongdae makes him soup and forces him to stay home.

“You won’t get better if you don’t rest,” he says, ignoring Sehun’s complaints as he leads him back into his own bed. He only smiles when Sehun tries to make a pitiful expression at him. “That’s not going to work.”

Jongdae ends up going to Sehun’s room as well after class, sitting and watching old Disney movies with him. Usually, Jongdae would be leaning into Sehun’s personal space, but right now, only their feet are touching as they sprawl out on the bed before the laptop.

“You’re crying,” Sehun points out, near the end of one of the movies.

Jongdae blinks, staring at the screen. “I’m not. My eyes are just watering from staring at the screen for so long.”

“Sure.” The tone of Sehun’s voice indicates that he doesn’t believe Jongdae, but he reaches out to wipe a tear from the corner of Jongdae’s eyes.

Jongdae turns to look at him, noting the barely existent space between them. They’re close enough that he can see Sehun’s red rimmed eyes, hear the slight sniffling in Sehun’s breath when he breathes. He pushes Sehun away, focusing on the movie again. “Don’t get me sick, too.”

His words lack sincerity, though, and Sehun laughs as Jongdae sings along to the theme song when the movie reaches its . And after a bit of nudging, Sehun sings along as well, hesitantly at first but with more enthusiasm as the song goes on. When the screen fades to black and the credits are rolling, he turns and catches Jongdae’s eye, smiling a kind of secret smile that’s only meant for Jongdae.



These are roads that Jongdae hasn’t traveled in years. There’s the bridge where his teacher used to lead their class across every day for recess, where they’d chant the name of their city’s professional baseball team as they went. The Dunkin’ Donuts is still by the corner, where his mother used to take him for breakfast every morning and insist on leaving behind that penny of change each day. The bookstore on the street is still there as well, the sign faded but the books on the shelves eye-catching with their shiny, new covers.

“I want to show you something,” Sehun had said, when he’d insisted on Jongdae letting him drive Jongdae’s car.

He stops before their old elementary school, a skinny five-story building crammed between two stores. Jongdae gets out of the car, staring up at the school as Sehun inserts some coins into the parking meter.

“Are we allowed to go in?” Jongdae asks, as Sehun takes his arm and leads him towards the front door of the school.

Sehun shrugs, staring at the wall to the right of the door. “I’m pretty sure it’s still here,” he mumbles, crouching down to stare at the wall.

Jongdae sits on the front step and watches him. “What are you doing?”

Sehun doesn’t answer him for several minutes, running his hands over the wall as he searches for whatever he’s looking for. Eventually, he makes a soft noise, gesturing at Jongdae with one hand as his other points at a spot about a foot from the ground. “It’s still here.”

“What?” Jongdae moves closer to Sehun, squinting at the place that Sehun’s pointing at. It’s a rough carving in the plaster, almost unnoticeable if Sehun hadn’t pointed it out. The carving is crude, like it was done by a shaking hand or a little kid, but the symbols are legible enough. There are four letters—S, O, J, and K, with a heart separating the first two from the last two letters.

“I made this in first grade,” Sehun says, tracing over the carving with a finger. “I didn’t think it’d still be here.”

“I didn’t realize you were this destructive as a kid,” Jongdae teases, smiling when Sehun looks up at him. “That’s really sneaky. And cute,” he adds.

Sehun stands and dusts his hands. “I did it with a nail I found. I was waiting for my mom to pick me up. It’s a good thing no one found out, or I’d be fined for vandalism.”

Jongdae laughs at the idea. “Hey,” he begins, as they walk out into the street. He doesn’t finish the rest of the sentence, instead reaching out to take Sehun’s hand. And judging from the way Sehun smiles at him and squeezes his hand ever so slightly, he doesn’t need to. The unspoken words between the two of them were always louder anyway.



Sehun interrupts Jongdae the second day of spring break, when Jongdae has the AC in his room on full blast and is comfortably burrowed in his thickest blankets. “Pack up. We’re going to the beach.”

Jongdae doesn’t really want to get out of his blankets, but he rarely sees Sehun act this impulsively. He puts his book down and starts reaching for the clothes in his closet. “Why?” he asks, dumping armfuls of clothes onto his bed. He really has to clean up his closet one day.

“Because.” Sehun sits down in Jongdae’s chair, propping his feet onto Jongdae’s desk and refusing to move even when Jongdae reaches over to hit him. “It’s getting boring over here, and I want to go somewhere new for a change.”

They just went out for breakfast a few hours ago, but Jongdae doesn’t complain. It would be nice to go to the beach, and as long as he has his laptop so he doesn’t fall behind on his work, it doesn’t really matter where he is. “So are we splitting the gas?”

“If you pay for the food,” Sehun replies, and Jongdae just laughs.

It only takes a few hours for them to get ready, taking only what they need to survive the next few days and nothing more. They get into the car after a quick lunch and start driving north. By the time they get to the beach, it's late afternoon.

After renting a room and setting their belongings there, they buy takeout and two bottles of beer. They eat dinner on the balcony of the room with a clear view of the beach outside.

"Thank you for coming here with me," Sehun says, after a long lapse of silence has fallen over the conversation.

Jongdae looks over at him, but Sehun's staring down at his nearly finished plate of food. Jongdae nudges him instead, surprised by the sudden sentimentality. It's probably the alcohol, he thinks, and turns to look at the sunset instead, watching as the clear blue of the sky fades into a dark purple. "It's not a big deal," he says, shivering a little at the sudden breeze that passes over them.

Sehun smiles and turns his head, like he's going to say something, but his gaze stops somewhere above Jongdae's head. "You can see the stars from here."

There's a kind of awe in his voice that makes Jongdae smile a little. But when he tips his head back, the sight nearly leaves him breathless. It's not like a dark sky with little white pinpoints of light is foreign to him; it's just that most of the lights he's seen in the sky tend to blink after a few seconds. These lights are steady and unwavering.

Jongdae lies down on the ground of the balcony, tugging Sehun to lie down beside him. From here, there seem to be galaxies before him, just an arm's reach away. Jongdae reaches out, as though trying to grab one.

Sehun pulls his arm back, laughing as he holds on to Jongdae's hand. "Why are you trying to grab the stars?"

"Not anymore," Jongdae says, lightly squeezing Sehun's hand. He turns his head slightly, just enough so that he can catch Sehun's smile.



They go out to the beach early the next morning. There are still hours before the beach is crowded with other tourists, so have the whole place mostly to themselves.

"Come on," Jongdae says, tugging on Sehun's hand as he runs through the sand.

They go as far out onto the shore as they can, climbing the rocks and sitting down over the edge of the water. It gives them the perfect view of the sunset, of the delicate gold stripes streaking over the sky and growing brighter with each passing minute.

It's quiet enough for Jongdae to hear the waves crashing onto the shore over the sound of his own heartbeat. He leans into Sehun's side a little more, closing his eyes as he rests his head on Sehun's shoulder.

Jongdae's close enough to Sehun that he distinctly hears Sehun's stomach growling. He laughs, and Sehun laughs back, his smile dazzlingly bright.

"Buy me food?" he asks, moving his shoulder to purposefully jostle Jongdae's head.

"Okay." Jongdae pushes himself up, wobbling a little as he balances himself on the uneven rocks. He turns to look at Sehun, who stands up as well. "I'll race you," he says, and takes off running through the sand. He can hear Sehun laughing behind him, the sound carrying over the wind and getting closer with each step.

Jongdae doesn't put up much of a struggle when Sehun eventually reaches him, slowing to a stop when they're a few feet from the hotel. "I got you," Sehun says, hugging Jongdae from behind, and Jongdae smiles as he looks up at him.

"Let's go inside," he says. He doesn't protest when Sehun insists that they walk like this, with Sehun's arm around Jongdae, close enough that they have to match their steps so they don't end up falling over each other.

Sehun doesn't step away until they're inside the building. They share breathless laughs as they head to the breakfast tables.



Most of the time is spent on their laptops as they finish their classwork, but they take breaks throughout the day for meals and for walking down to the beach.

On their second to last day at the beach, they wake up early enough to see the sunrise again. This time, Jongdae brings two cups with him.

"We're going to make a sandcastle," he says, when Sehun gives him a questioning look.


It takes them hours to perfect each detail, even digging a moat before the castle and making flags from little tree branches. By the time they’re finished, Jongdae’s back is aching and the sun is beating down heavily on them. The beach around them is crowded with couples and children.

“Let me take a picture of this,” Sehun says, pulling out his phone. He snaps a picture of their sandcastle, and then turns the camera on Jongdae and takes a picture of him with his eyes squinting against the sun and his lips twisted.

Jongdae frowns as he hears the shutter go off. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“No,” Sehun says, his thumbs tapping at his phone screen. A moment later, Jongdae’s phone goes off, the screen flashing with a new text message from Sehun. It’s the picture that Sehun just took of him, and his facial expression is far from flattering.

Jongdae shakes his head as he puts his phone back into his pocket. “Let’s go back.”

Sehun stops him. “We have to mess up this sandcastle first.”

Jongdae blinks. “Mess it up?”

Considering the amount of time it took for them to make the sandcastle, it’s surprisingly easy to tear it down. The sand crumbles readily under their feet, and Jongdae falls on top of Sehun on the pile of sand, still laughing as he looks down.

Sehun’s laughing as well, his eyes crinkled and his mouth parted, his teeth a brilliant white under the sun. It’s funny how, even though they’ve been friends for so long, they’ve never been in this position before, and it’s never felt likethis before.

Jongdae only has to lean forward a little more to press his lips against Sehun’s, to feel the soft gasp Sehun lets out against his mouth, and feel the smile on Sehun’s lips as he kisses him back.



They don’t get back home until late the next night, getting caught in rush hour on their way back to the city. Jongdae heads to the refrigerator the moment he’s taken his shoes off and dropped his luggage by the door, searching for something to eat.

Their refrigerator is mostly empty, however, and most of the food that’s still there is already expired. He slams the door closed.

“We have to go to Walmart and buy more food,” he tells Sehun.

Sehun looks up from where he’s unpacking his things. “Now?”

Jongdae nods, opening the door. “Come on.”

He doesn’t bother taking the car this time, so they have to wait a few minutes at the bus stop. There aren’t many customers at Walmart by the time they get there. He and Sehun each take a cart of their own, but they walk through the aisles together, arguing over the brands of cereal and chips.

They head back outside once they’ve paid for the items. Sehun jumps onto the railing on the lower tray.

“Race you,” he says, pushing off with one foot.

“How old are you?” Jongdae says, but he pushes off as well, shooting down the hill in pursuit of Sehun.

It’s dark now, the only light coming from the streetlamps around them and the headlights of nearby cars. There aren’t many cars in the parking lot, so they don’t have to be too careful as they race each other down the empty lanes. The wind rushes past Jongdae’s ears as he goes faster, the adrenaline running through his veins. He nearly turns in front of a car, but he manages to swerve at the last minute, waving his hand apologetically as he continues chasing after Sehun. It’s like he has too much energy, and it’s undeniably addicting, making him feel alive under the dark night sky.

Eventually, they come to a stop before the front of the store, returning the carts to their original places and grabbing the shopping bags.

“I won,” Jongdae says, trying to find a way to arrange the plastic bags on his arms so the handles don’t dig too much into his skin.

Sehun sticks out his tongue, laughing as he takes a few bags from Jongdae. “I’ll race you to the bus station, then.”

This time, Sehun wins, even though Jongdae insists that he’d let him win because it would only be fair.

It’s crowded when they get on the bus, and they have to share one of the overhead handles. When the bus turns around a corner, Jongdae loses his footing, falling into Sehun and nearly causing both of them to fall over. Sehun’s grip on the handle is the only thing that keeps them from tumbling onto the ground.

“Got you,” Sehun says, and Jongdae smiles as he regains his footing. He purposefully falls into Sehun a few minutes later, and Sehun pushes him away this time, his laugh soft and low by Jongdae’s ear.

They manage to find seats next to each other, with Jongdae sitting in the window seat and Sehun next to him in the aisle seat. They’re only a few minutes from their home now, but even sitting for a few minutes on public transportation is a privilege. Besides, there aren’t any elderly citizens standing on the bus, so it makes Jongdae less guilty as he drops his shopping bags into the space between his and Sehun’s seats.

Jongdae traces a finger along the window, clearing away some of the condensation that has gathered on the inside of the glass pane. After a few minutes, he nudges Sehun, pointing at the window. “Look.”

Just then, they pass by a series of streetlamps, which throw enough light to clearly illuminate the window. There are five figures drawn in the condensation, four letters—J, K, S, and O, with a heart separating the first two letters from the last two.

Jongdae Kim loves Sehun Oh.