"Oh, no." Kyungsoo backed into his apartment slowly, regarding this Kai with caution. Just a look from this Kai could send blood shooting to all the wrong places. "I do not live your life, I share this apartment with my manager who literally could be back any second with my clothes for the day." He faltered at the end of the scentence, realizing he was just egging Kai on. Sure enough, there was an electric spark in those bottomless orbs still staring at him.

"What, you don't have any clothes? I see too many already..."

"Kai, we have to talk about last time. I didn't think I was ever going to see you again, even though—" he cut himself short of saying I'm not suprised—while he was often cocky about this kind of thing he knew Kai could have anyone he wanted. Aphrodite came begging to his door. "We have to talk about that girl who said she was your wife—what was her name? Yellow-green girl."

"Jinah." Kai's gaze faltered but he came all the way into the room, closing the door behind him. In the short time they'd been apart Kyungsoo had forgotten how tall Kai was, and maybe it was just the way Kyungsoo saw him, but he seemed to fill up the room.

"I'm confused. You're her husband, but she wasn't suprised at all to see me there, but she seemed okay with it, but you two clearly aren't on the best of terms, and—" Kyungsoo had to take a step back at the force of Kai's kiss. He wanted to feel only exasperated, but one thing he hadn't forgotten was Kai's taste. He remembered his dream last night at the perfectly wrong time, and now the blood was really rushing.

The possibility of his manager returning at any given moment coupled with his evaporating but still present exasparation at Kai gave him enough strength to push Kai away a little and take another big step back, putting a solid few feet behind him. Kai pouted. 

"No. Don't pout. Speak. Use your words. You never told me what color your voice was, you know." Kyungsoo tried to keep his voice level but insistent.

"Jinah is so private that you could know me better than I know myself and you still wouldn't have to know anything about her," Kai replied quietly, and seriously, as if his answer made sense and would sate Kyungsoo's appetite for conversation. 

Kyungsoo shook his head. "No, I—I want to know. If you don't come back to me I'm going to come back to you at some point and I don't want to go on not knowing anything about each other—"

"Why?" Kai cut him off.

"Well, because we didn't meet in a club! Because you weren't really a booty call, because I bought your painting and because you painted it for me, because I saw Yixing in the hallway outside your apartment listening to you two fight and because you haven't seen the look on his face while he sits there. Because your skull is so thick or—or diluted or—overstimulated with colors or whatever that you can't even tell youself why you're really here! Because I met you in a garage spray painting—"

Kyungsoo made a little noise as Kai kissed him again this time unable to control his long, tan arms as they wrapped around him and pulled him close like Kai was trying to fuse them. But Kyungsoo was already flushed enough and he wasn't finished talking. He broke away but didn't move out from the circle of Kai's arms. Being there, strangely, despite what Kai did to him, calmed his nerves.

"I wasn't done talking," Kyungsoo insisted. "Because you don't just kiss a booty call like that. Why did she call you Jongin?"

"You're a romantic motherer," Kai said, his voice sweet and caressing, his eyes turning into adoring little half-moons. "It's comforting to know that if I don't follow you around you'll follow me. I feel like we're dancing."

"And you are very eloquent but also really skilled at avoiding the question." But Kyungsoo felt something in the air, some kind of resistance, some unsurmountable reluctance on Kai's part that made him understand, in his heart, that Kai really couldn't tell him anything and couldn't explain anything. He fell silent, his mind running over what he'd just said. Most of it had been in the moment, meant simply to extract information from the tall man embracing him. But none of it was false, and Kyungsoo realized that even though Kai had wordlessly said he couldn't tell Kyungsoo everything, Kyungsoo didn't care. Better, Kyungsoo cared so much that he understood that what was best right now was for Kai not to tell.

When he looked up he noticed Kai watching each twitch of his face like it held the secret to immortality. "My—my manager really will be back any minute," he said, his voice not totally different—quiet and a little apologetic.

To Kai, it was a silky lavender blanket that welcomed him into its warmth as it simoultaneaously ushered him out the door. He thought a moment, his eyes flicking from the door to Kyungsoo to the bedroom and back.

"Too bad," Kai said, the glint back in his eye. Kyungsoo found himself lifted off the floor and carried into the bedroom. 

"Kai-ah!" Kyungsoo whined a little when he was deposited on the bed, but soon had to choke down his words as Kai undid his zipper and had his pants around his ankles in a moment. 

"I know," came Kai's rumbling voice from between his legs, "but let's make it a race, okay? Who comes first, the manager or Kyungsoo?"

Kyungsoo nearly came then and there, watching Kai bite his lip and listening to him say his name like it was something holy.

"Thanks for having me!" Kyungsoo smiled even though he knew the listeners to the radio couldn't hear him. He genuinley liked Taemin, and admired the superstar's ability to switch between artistry and commerciality. It was a valuable skill. If Kyungsoo was the king of ballads, Taemin was the king of pop, and he bore the cross eloquently and with a big, pixie smile on his face that made it hard not to like him. It was the first time they'd been together for an interview before, but Kyungsoo had been happy when he found out Taemin was the special MC for the radio interivew he was doing that morning. 

"We hope you come back!" Taemin said brightly, the fingers on his hand counting down 4, 3, 2, 1, and then they were off air. Something in the star's mannerisms or the way he looked at the world reminded Kyungsoo of Kai. 

Kyungsoo made a mental note. He'd last seen Kai yesterday morning, and he was fairly sure he was begining to think of him with increasing frequency. Perhaps by the time they saw each other again he would genuinley be able to say that Kai was all he ever thought about. Then Kyungsoo felt disgusted with himself, that his mind was capable of being so cheesy. He deduced it must be Taemin's presence, and the particular mood one had to be in for this sort of radio interiview.

Taemin was saying something. "Hey, if you're tired of hotels you can totally crash at my place tonight after your concert," he offered, getting up from the table and stretching, his hands barely missing knocking over a mic. "I know for me it's nice when there's a little touch of someone where I sleep. I even slept at a fan's house once. I don't suggest it, though. I think I gained ten pounds in one night and it took like a month to get my abs back. Sad for everyone involved, I think, except that one fan."

Kyungsoo chuckled. "That sounds like a personal problem," he joked, rubbing his tummy. Advantages of being the king of ballads: have a dreamy face and people usually spend their time distracted from their body. Unless they're Kai. There, see, the frequency was increasing.

"I'll give your manager the address, okay? And the combination for the lock, because I'll probably be in the recording studio and won't hear you."

"No —you have a recording studio in you apartment?"

Taemin giggled. "I'm sure you've got enough money by now. It's really nice, to be honest—my work is just a few steps away. So the month of the year I'm home, I'm, you know—home most of the time."

Kyungsoo's manager butted in. "Do, we've got a costume fitting in half an hour and I"m not sure where it is—"

"Yep, coming." Kyungsoo shook Taemin's hand and followed his manager out like the obedient show pony he was. He did, after all, have a show that night. While he wasn't like Taemin—he was perfectly okay sleeping in hotels—he figured a change of scene wouldn't be so bad. Taemin would at least maybe make him some dinner. The notion entered his mind that Taemin might be looking for something more than some company that night, but he'd gotten used to assuming that wasn't the case.

He arrived at Taemin's house unsure of whether it was nighttime or morning; whichever it was, it was late, but one light glowed bright and inviting in Taemin's buliding and he left his managers looking worried with a distinct saesang look in their eyes, like they might hang around the building a little longer than was necasary. 

Taemin opened the door with a wide, friendly smile, looking as awake as if it was the middle of the morning. He had pasta almost ready— "It's all I know how to make," he apologized. But it smelled amazing and Kyungsoo tiredly found his way to the bathroom to actually change out of his stage clothes this time and take off his makeup. Looking at the nice clean shower he decided that he might as well clean everything.

When he finally came out of the steamy bathroom, hair wet but clean, a nice meal waited for him on Taemin's small table clearly meant for only two—maybe three—and Taemin had already eaten hours before. Now he made his way idly through some chips, watching Kyungsoo eat with quiet eyes. 

Kyungsoo wasn't paying much attention to anything as he ate, and he surely wasn't concerned that Taemin was right next to him—he might be okay kissing Taemin for the sake of this variety show or that, although Taemin wansn't his type and was probably straight anyway. Celebrities quickly shirked the idea of personal space or personal anything besides integrity and music, and maybe fans. Kyungsoo was very protective of his fans.

When his bowl was empty, he leaned back with a sigh. Taemin's apartment looked a lot like the one he shared with his manager—sparse, unlived in, but tastefully decorated. Whoever had decorated Taemin's apartment had really liked the color green. Kyungsoo asked about it.

"Apparently it goes with my voice," Taemin said absently suprised at the question. Kyungsoo just hummed, not particularly caring that the answer didn't make a whole lot of sense. The dark green curtains and fake plants and green accents on everything made the apartment seem like some kind of wooden forest.

"I think I'll just go to bed, if you don't need my company terribly," Kyungsoo murmered, his shoulder digging a little into Taemin's. 

"You're all digested and everything?" Taemin asked. Kyungsoo smiled; technically, Taemin was younger than him, but he was clearly trying his best to be a good host.

"We should do a song together sometime," Kyungsoo offered. "But yeah. What you can cook, you can cook, you get me?"

"And you don't want to..." Kyungsoo realized Taemin's hand was resting comfortably on his thigh, but his upper thigh, and for a moment his tired mind was suprised that he'd pegged Taemin wrong. Instantly he thought of Kai. Taemin really wasn't his type—he was sweet, but he reminded Kyungsoo of some kind of emo pixie sometimes, and besides, Kyungsoo was just... tired.

"I'm just tired," he said, not filtering himself. Taemin looked a little dissappointed, but rose and took Kyungsoo's plate into the kitchen, turning off the quiet pop music that had been in the background. 

"Good night, then," was all the pop star said before dissappearing into his room. Kyungsoo sighed and thought about Kai, spacing out while staring at a painting. He thought again about Jinah. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but wanted badly to speak to her again. She reminded him of an exotic tiger painfully aware that the world it lived in was fake but also aware that it wouldn't survive in the real wild. If he hadn't seen her fighting with Kai, he thought they might've been friends.

Then he really looked at the painting in front of him and his breath left him for a second as he recognized what it was. lush greens floated like star clusters around a mouth that was unmistakably Taemin's, but that wasn't what was suprising. The painting was absolutely Kai's. It had Kai written all over it. Actually, when Kyungsoo looked closer—it did Kai written on it, in pretty white script on the bottom corner.

"Oh my god, thank god, jesus ing christ I swear I couldn't stand this city without you," Jinah collapsed into the coffee shop booth across from Luhan with a huff. 

"That bad? It's been so long I'd have thought he'd at least have been cordial to you your fist night." Luhan frowned.

"Worse than bad—he had someone over, if you know what I mean." Jinah sighed. "I mean, I know boys are pretty, trust me I know, but it wasn't some nobody. I don't know if I should tell you. You know plenty of celebrities."

"Not really. Soccer isn't the kind of industry that crosses into many others very often," replied Luhan. "I finally met your little accomplice, though—he's nicer than you said he was. Prettier, too. Since you said Kai had someone else, you think he's tired of Sehun or something?"

"That would defeat our whole purpose in that whole enterprise. And I know he's nice. I'm a great judge of character. Kai can be picky, so you have to throw an angel at him for him to bite." JInah pouted. 

"Why? You have more money than you could possibly spend in a lifetime, even if you tried. If you wanted to make the guy bankrupt you would have gone about it differently, but we both know you're not mean enough for that. And you're his wife—I still don't understand why you couldn't just ask for money directly."

"He would probably cut me off, I don't know." Jinah quieted as the waiter came to collect their order and then sighed. She looked even skinnier than the last time Luhan had seen her, but he had a purpose and he was torn between that and worry for his friend.

"Jinah, do you want to live here? I'm sure you could arrange something where you didn't have to see him."

"He specifically insisted that I live somewhere different. It's all he's really asked of me, however much we've fought."

"But Sehun, he doesn't have to live here?"

"Why?" Jinah narrowed her eyes, catching wind of something going on beneath Luhan's concern.

Luhan shrugged. "Like I said, I met him at one of Kai's exhibitions."

"And?" Jinah had a knowing glint in her eye and it made Luhan uncomfortable. When Luhan  didn't say anything she took it as a confirmation of her suspicions. "Seriously. He's not even that hot!"

Luhan raised an incredulous eyebrow.

Kyungsoo stared with wide eyes at the unlikely couple sitting inside the coffee shop. He knew that Taemin's apartment building was popular among the semi-famous and all-out famous, but he knew after some googling that Jinah was only known but cult bloggers who knew the names of most of the models the country. Never would he have expected to see Luhan the soccer player having a calm breakfast with The Kai's wife. 

He'd only wanted to find some coffee for Taemin as some sign of gratitude for giving him a bed to sleep in. Now he stood, transfixed, as Luhan finally fished some money out of his wallet and embraced Jinah, stepping right into a sleek black car awaiting him on the curb. 

Jinah didn't look like she was going anywhere, so Kyungsoo impulsively stepped into the warm shop, the bell tinkling quietly. He got a few looks and had to sign one autograph, but otherwise everyone seemed involved in their own lives, in the bitterness of their morning coffee, the urgency of the words that scrolled across their phone screens, the newspaper, the tabloids—some about him, but him in real life—now, that was too extraordinary for a place that prided itself on ordinariness like this.

Jinah jumped when she heard her name, looking back at Kyungsoo with wide eyes. When she saw who it was, though, her eyes narrowed immediatley. "Do Kyungsoo."

"Hi. I was just—well, you won't believe it, I'm sure, but I was just in the neighborhood," Kyungsoo explained truthfully, sliding into the space Luhan had just vacated. The light fell on Jinah prettily, her hair looking reddish and her eyes sparkling a little. 

"Well, it's fine anyway." She looked him up and down. "It's a good thing you said hi to me, too. You were probably so freaked out last time we saw each other. I was really in a bad mood, though, so you'll have to excuse me. I know my husband is irresistable, I shouldn't fault you for—"

"Okay." Kyungsoo cut her off before she could continue. While Jinah's words were pessimistic, she spoke with a naïve lilt to her voice that Kyungsoo found off-putting. But she didn't really want to stop talking, and he wasn't really the sort of person who could ever interrupt. He'd been raised to be polite, and sometimes Kyungsoo swore it was the bane of his existence in this rude world.

"Do Kyungsoo, if you value your career, or your future, or anything, you won't see him again. I know he's a good lay—" Kyungsoo raised both eyebrows in suprise— "But he'll get tired of you. But by then you'll be too in love with him to do anything about it."

Kyungsoo frowned. "I don't think so," was all he said, quietly, his mind filling with Kai like it sometimes did. That golden skin could still blind him just when he thought about it. "But—if you don't mind—what happened? Between—between you and him?" Kyungsoo wasn't sure if he was overstepping his bounds here, but after what he'd seen in Kai's apartment, he figured if he was being rude, it was understandable. All the same, he was ready to apologize profusely when Jinah began to speak.

"I got better," she said, her voice breaking. "When we met—you know he's got synesthesia—anyway, that's not important." she seemed to be fishing around for somewhere to start. "I might as well just let you know that he discovered he hated my voice. My voice, apparently, is the ugliest thing ever. Just my presence—Do Kyungsoo, just my presence gave him a headache. At first I thought it was something that would go away, but it didn't. And then I found—no, you'll definitley know him, for all I know you were staying over at his house. Anyway, then I found another guy in his bed. He didn't even apologize, he just yelled at me to get out."

Jinah spoke like she was happy to unload all her bitterness onto someone else. It seemed to Kyungsoo a bad reason to divulge personal information. He thought it was a virtue to be able to keep pain hidden, and always felt proud when his fans happily played on the internet, pointing to how happy he seemed while he did three shows a night plus TV appearances. Chen thought he was crazy— you'll find someone someday, he'd said, who makes you want to tell them every single thought that enters your head. Telling them everything will be an impulse—like breathing.

Still, Kyungsoo selfishly ate up every piece of information he could get on the mysterious artist and knowing what he knew now, he just wanted to know more. It was clear Jinah now hated her husband.

"Who was it with? Did they keep dating, or something? It seems like the kind of situation niether of you could help," Kyungsoo said.

"King of Pop," replied Jinah, eyes flashing.

Kyungsoo remembered the painting on Taemin's wall. A gift. 

He suddenly felt un-special.

Kai had painted for someone else before. He'd painted for a singer before.

"I should go," he said abruptly. It was true; his phone was buzzing insistently and his manager was surely wondering where he was, worried he'd dissappeared like he had the other night.

Jinah grabbed his sleeve as he got up to go. Her eyes wobbled with something untold—or perhaps much untold. "So will you break up with him?" 

Kyungsoo realized that perhaps she hadn't just been unloading after all—maybe what she had told him had been exactly enough, just enough to turn Kyungsoo away. In his heart, he knew she should know better. She should know how unresistable Kai was. If only she knew often Kyungsoo thought of him, how much Kyungsoo felt his life revolved around him—she wouldn't even try.

Still, he felt sorry for her—after all, it didn't seem to him like she'd done anything wrong, just gotten cought in an awful situation. He took a stray piece of paper half-autographed out of his pocket and asked the wide-eyed waitress for a pen, jotting down his number.

"We'll see," he replied. "In the meantime, feel free to call me if you need anything. If you need a place to crash."

The waitress looked between them jealously, clearly formnig all the wrong ideas about what was occuring but too scared to whip out her phone and record it like someone might have somewhere else.

Kyungsoo idly wondered if she saw Taemin in here often. If Kyungsoo accidentally caught female attention, Taemin caught it on purpose, and Kyungsoo still wasn't conviced that the pop star was into men exclusivley. He exited the coffee shop unsure of whether talking ot Jinah had been a good idea at all—and realizing belatedly that he'd forgotten what he'd come for—that is, the coffee for Taemin.

The dancers wove mezmarizing patterns on the aged cobblestone, their delight infectious, infiltrating the crowd and bringing the whole waterfront into a wonderful crescendo of human happiness. It was Kai's favorite song here, and his favorite time of day; the sun hung low over the horizon, lighting the calm river on fire and sillouetting the handsome bridge that straddled the river. Every sort of person could enjoy this place: the shopkeepers who sold things for more reasons than money, the young couples who came to fall in love, the travellers who came to feel bigger than themselves—and the artists who came to remind themselves of the natural color of the world.

He stood in the archway a moment longer before entering the dancers smoothly, his chest rising and falling more quickly as he was swept up in the rythm, a slow smile spreading across his face as he felt the heat of other people mingle with the breeze coming from across the river.

Suddenly, in the middle of the dance floor, Kai stopped short, suprised dumb by what he'd just thought. He loved coming here precisely becaus ehe never did think, so when Kyungsoo popped into his head he felt deeply moved, as if God himself had placed the wide-eyed singer into his mind at the very moment he hadn't expected it. He felt his life nudged in a slightly different direction just then, while the dancers swirling around him switched directions and began to step quickly to the next song.

Kai quickly made his way out of the crowd, part of him dissappointed that he hadn't been able to stay away from Kyungsoo until the dinner party like he'd planned.

Planning was overrated.

When Kai finally caught a cab, he took an embarrasingly long time to search through Kyungsoo's scedule and figure out what city he was in—but the cab driver didn't care when he saw the sum of money offerd to him from the shadowey backseat.

Author's note: I'm not super happy with how this chapter turned out, but I always feel bad when I take too long to update. I wonder what Kai will think about what Kyungsoo has learned...

Please please leave comments! I read all of them :)

Also, let me know how much you all like the versus the drama--I genuinley don't know which one I'm better at and I live to please!