Luhan tangles his fingers in Kyungsoo’s hair as the younger kisses him deeper, savoring the feeling of the shorter man’s arms around his waist and trying to memorize the taste of his tongue. The sun shines brightly over the University of Chicago, birds chirping and students laughing around them— all to which the couple is oblivious as they cling to one another. 

 

“I love you,” Luhan breathes when Kyungsoo finally pulls back for a moment, eyes glittering with emotion as he gazes into his boyfriend’s. The look on Kyungsoo’s face immediately softens some more as he gently cradles Luhan’s face in his hands.

 

“I love you.”

 

They’re still making out when Jongin pulls up, parking the car on the curb beside them and smiling at the couple on the sidewalk. He patiently waits for the liplock to end, but it never does, and as much as Jongin loves Luhan, it’s a bit awkward.

 

“Ahem,” he politely clears his throat, a smile still on his face. They don’t hear him, and Luhan’s boyfriend looks a bit like he’s about to devour the older man’s lips whole. Jongin glances around before accidentally-on-purpose hitting the car horn with his elbow, startling the couple out their embrace.

 

“Oh. Hi Jongin,” Luhan grins, pulling away from Kyungsoo and bounding up to Jongin’s car. “Jongin, this is Do Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, this is Kim Jongin.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Kyungsoo smiles at him, shaking Jongin’s hand through the open window.

 

“You want to drive the first shift?” Jongin asks amicably, flexing his fingers before resting them back on the wheel.

 

“No, no— you’re there already, you can start.”

 

Kyungsoo looks meaningfully back at Luhan, and Jongin smiles at the look in Luhan’s eyes. It’s been a while since he saw his friend this happy. 

 

Luhan follows behind him as Kyungsoo puts his lone duffel bag in the backseat alongside Jongin’s small mountain of suitcases. “Call me?”

 

“I’ll call as soon as I get there.”

 

“Call me from the road.”

 

“I’ll call before that.”

 

They smile at each other one more time, and Kyungsoo glances back down at Luhan’s lips.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

Kyungsoo connects their lips again, and Luhan’s arms automatically wind around his neck, clinging to each other until the sound of Jongin’s horn startles them out of it once again. 

 

“Sorry,” Jongin chirps from the driver’s seat, his cheeky grin not looking very sorry at all.

 

“I’ll call you,” Kyungsoo promises again as he gets in the front seat. Luhan returns Jongin’s wave as they pull away from the curb, smiling and watching the car until it disappears from sight.

 

“I have this all figured out,” Jongin says, eyeing the man beside him as Kyungsoo produces a bunch of grapes from his bag and pops one in his mouth. “It’s an eighteen hour trip, which breaks down to six shifts of three hours each. Or, alternatively, we could break it down by mileage. There’s a map on the visor; I’ve marked it to show the locations where we change shifts. You can do three hours?”

 

“Grape?” Kyungsoo offers, holding one up for Jongin to take. Jongin blinks, surprised by the question, but shakes his head no.

 

“No, I don’t like to eat between meals.”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs, turning to spit a seed out the window, which doesn’t happen to be down. There’s a beat of silence as Kyungsoo looks at the grape seed on the glass before looking back at Jongin.

 

“I’ll roll down the window.”

 

There’s another minute of silence as he does, save for the hollow sound of wind through the window and the faint crunch of the grapes before Kyungsoo speaks again.

 

“I hope this isn’t going to be one of those trips with a lot of long, awkward silences.”

 

“Me too,” Jongin agrees.

 

His words are followed by a long, awkward silence.

 

“Why don’t you tell me the story of your life?” Kyungsoo suggests after a few minutes, reclining in his seat and propping his knees up on the dashboard. Jongin arches an eyebrow.

 

“The story of my life?”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs. “We’ve got eighteen hours to kill before we get to New York.”

 

“The story of my life isn’t even going to get us out of Chicago,” Jongin laughs lightly. “I mean, nothing’s happened to me yet. That’s why I’m going to New York.”

 

“So something can happen to you.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like I’m going to go to journalism school and become a reporter,” Jongin tells him matter-of-factly.

 

“So you can write about things that happen to other people.”

 

Jongin’s silent for a moment before replying.

 

“…that’s one way to look at it.”

 

“Suppose nothing happens to you,” Kyungsoo says, eyes on Jongin’s face as he toys with a grape in his hand. “Suppose you live there your whole life and nothing ever happens and you never meet anyone and you never become anything and you finally die one of those New York deaths where nobody even notices for two weeks until the smell drifts out into the hallway.”

 

Jongin looks over at him, taken aback, before looking back at the road. Who the hell am I stuck in this car with?

 

“Luhan mentioned you had a dark side.”

 

“That’s what drew him to me,” Kyungsoo grins, popping the grape in his mouth. Jongin snorts.

 

“Your dark side?”

 

“Yeah, why? Don’t you have a dark side?” he teases, and after a moment’s thought, “No, you’re probably one of those cheerful people who dots his ‘i’s’ with little hearts.

 

Jongin’s lucid expression taints with irritation. “I have just as much of a dark side as the next person—”

 

“Oh really?” Kyungsoo chuckles. “When I get a new book, I always read the last page first. That way, if I die before I finish, I know how it comes out. That, my friend, is a dark side.”

 

“It doesn’t mean you’re deep or anything,” Jongin says defensively, now thoroughly annoyed. “I mean, I’m basically a happy person.”

 

“So am I,” Kyungsoo quips cheerfully.

 

“…and I don’t see that there’s anything wrong with that,” the younger adds after a moment. Kyungsoo spits another grape seed out the window. 

 

“Of course you don’t. You’re too busy being happy. Do you think about death?”

 

“Yes,” Jongin insists, reminding himself to keep his eyes on the road.

 

“Sure you do. A fleeting thought that drifts in and out of the transom of your mind. I spend hours, I spend days—”

 

“—and you think this makes you a better person?” Jongin interrupts. Kyungsoo puts his hands up in mock surrender. 

 

“Look, when the comes down, I am going to be prepared and you are not; that’s all I’m saying.”

 

“And in the meantime, you’re going to ruin your whole life waiting for it.”

 

There’s another minute of silence. Jongin can faintly hear the sound of Kyungsoo’s teeth piercing the skin of another green grape.

 

“What are you going to do in New York?”

 

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo answers honestly. “I just graduated from law school, but I never really thought I was going to be a lawyer — I see it as a jumping-off point.”

 

“You should be a lawyer,” Jongin says without looking at him. “The kind that does wills. I think you’d be really good at explaining to people they’re going to die.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs aloud before spitting another grape seed out the window.

 

—

 

“He doesn’t want her to stay. That’s why he puts her on the plane,” Kyungsoo is saying some hours later. He and Jongin have switched seats, the younger now sitting in the passenger seat as Kyungsoo takes his shift driving. 

 

“I don’t think she wants to stay.”

 

“Of course she wants to stay. Wouldn’t you rather be with Humphrey Bogart than that other guy?”

 

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in Casablanca married to a man who runs a bar,” Jongin informs him as he replies to a text message. “That probably sounds very snobbish to you, but I don’t.”

 

“You’d rather have a passionless marriage—”

 

“—and be the First Gentleman of Czechoslovakia—”

 

“—than live with the man you’ve had the greatest of your life with, just because he owns a bar and that’s all he does.”

 

Kyungsoo parks the car in front of a retro-looking diner as the late afternoon sun shines above them. “Yes, and so would any woman in her right mind. Women are more practical than we are, you know. Even Ingrid Bergman, which is why she gets on that plane at the end of the movie.”

 

“Oh, I understand,” Kyungsoo nods to himself as he gets out the car, and Jongin follows suit. 

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo waves him off as he walks towards the restaurant. Jongin follows after him, scowling.

 

“No, what?”

 

“Obviously you haven’t had great yet,” Kyungsoo tells him as they walk in the door, then, to the hostess, “Table for two.”

 

“Yes I have,” Jongin insists, following Kyungsoo as he follows the hostess.

 

“No you’ve haven’t.”

 

“It just so happens that I have had plenty of good !”

 

There’s a beat of silence as the other customers in the diner pause in their eating to stare at him, the proclamation louder than he had intended. Jongin slowly looks around, willing himself not to blush as he lowers his head and slides into the seat across from Kyungsoo at the table.

 

“With whom?”

 

“What?”

 

“Have you had this good ?”

 

Jongin gasps silently, looking at Kyungsoo as if he can’t believe he has the audacity to ask such a thing. “I’m not going to tell you that!”

 

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Kyungsoo shrugs, leaning back in his chair and opening the menu. Jongin pouts at him. The dull dining room chatter fills the brief silence as Kyungsoo reads over the specials.

 

“…Kim Junmyeon.”

 

“Junmyeon?” Kyungsoo snorts. “No. I’m sorry. You didn’t have great with Junmyeon.”

 

“I did too,” Jongin tells him with a smile as he opens his own menu.

 

“No. A ‘Junmyeon’ can do your taxes. If you need a root canal, Junmyeon’s your man. But between the sheets?” He shakes his head. “Not Junmyeon’s strong suit. ‘I love you, Junmyeon. Give it to me, Junmyeon. I can’t get enough of you, Junmyeon.’” he whines, imitating the younger’s voice. “See? It doesn’t work.”

 

“What can I get you?” their waitress asks as she approaches the table, cutting Jongin off before he can retort.

 

“I’ll have the number three,” Kyungsoo smiles at her, closing the menu as she jots down his order.

 

“And what kind of bread do you want that on?”

 

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Surprise me.”

 

The waitress nods and turns to Jongin.

 

“You know, what I’d like is the apple pie a la mode.”

 

“Apple… a la mode…” the waitress repeats to herself as she writes.

 

“But I’d like the pie heated, and I don’t want the ice cream on top, I want it on the side,” he continues with a pleasant smile. “And I’d like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it. If not, then no ice cream, just whipped cream, but only it it’s real. If it’s out of a can, then nothing.”

 

The waitress an eyebrow as Jongin hands her the menus. “Not even the pie?”

 

“No, just the pie. But then not heated.”

 

Kyungsoo stares at him in disbelief as the waitress walks away. Jongin habitually adjusts his bangs, only noticing Kyungsoo’s look after a few seconds.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo capitulates, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “So how come you broke up with Junmyeon?”

 

“How do you know we broke up?” Jongin counters.

 

“Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here with me; you’d be with Junmyeon the Wonder Schlong.”

 

“First of all, I’m not with you. Second of all, it’s none of your business why we broke up.”

 

“You’re right, you're right.” Kyungsoo agrees, checking his phone. I don’t want to know.”

 

Another beat of silence passes before Jongin speaks up again.

 

“Well if you must know, it was because he was very jealous and I had these Days of the Week underpants.”

 

Kyungsoo makes a buzzer sound without even looking up. “Judge’s ruling on this. Days of the Week underpants?”

 

“Yes,” Jongin confirms, confidently lifting his chin. “They had the days of the week on them, and I thought they were sort of funny— and one day he said to me, you never wear Sunday. He got all suspicious. Where was Sunday? Where had I left Sunday? And I told him and he didn’t believe me!”

 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, now looking Jongin in the eye. “What?”

 

“They don’t make Sunday.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because of God,” Jongin informs him sincerely. Kyungsoo blinks at him.

 

“And that’s what broke you up?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How many men have you slept with?”

 

Jongin scoffs again with indignation. “I’m not going to tell you that!”

 

“Okay. Don’t tell me.”

 

“…Two.”

 

Kyungsoo’s grinning again. “You’ve been with two people and you’re telling me based on two people you know whether or not you’ve had great ?”

 

Jongin doesn’t answer the question, but turns it back on Kyungsoo instead. “How many have you?”

 

The elder shrugs. “I don’t know.”

 

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

 

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo repeats.

 

“Is it between zero and three, four and ten, or ten and a hundred?”

 

“Ten and a hundred.”

 

Jongin wrinkles his nose. “Is it closer to ten or closer to a hundred?”

 

“Ten,” Kyungsoo replies with a simper. The waitress returns then with their food in hand, and Jongin seethes silently for a while as they eat. 

 

It’s dark outside by the time they’re done, and Kyungsoo watches Jongin intently as the younger man calculates his portion of the bill on the back of the receipt. 

 

“What?” Jongin asks when he notices Kyungsoo staring at him, nervously wiping at his face. “Do I have…?”

 

“You’re a very attractive person,” Kyungsoo states. Jongin’s visibly surprised by the compliment, but quickly composes himself.

 

“Oh, thank you.”

 

“Luhan never said you were so attractive.”

 

“Maybe he doesn’t think I’m attractive.”

 

“It’s not a matter of opinion. Empirically, you are attractive.”

 

Jongin frowns at him. “Kyungsoo, Luhan is my friend.”

 

“So?” Kyungsoo asks, dropping his cash on top of Jongin’s and following him to the door. Jongin looks over his shoulder at him like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

 

“So you’re going with him.”

 

“So?”

 

“So you’re coming on to me!”

 

“No I wasn’t,” Kyungsoo says easily, unperturbed by the incredulous look Jongin is giving him. “What? Can’t a gay man say another man is attractive without it being a come-on?”

 

Jongin looks like he’s about to argue, but gives up at the last minute with a frustrated huff and walks back to the car with Kyungsoo on his heels.

 

“All right,” Kyungsoo continues, “Let’s just say for the sake of argument that it was a come-on. I take it back. Alright? I take it back.”

 

“You can’t take it back,” Jongin says with his hand on the door handle, looking at Kyungsoo over the roof of the car.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because it’s already out there!”

 

“Oh, jeez. What are we supposed to do now?” Kyungsoo says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Call the cops? It’s already out there!”

 

“Just let it lie, okay?” Jongin says with finality, quickly getting into the car.

 

“Right, right,” Kyungsoo agrees, his tone light as he settles back into the driver’s seat. “Let it lie. That’s my policy. Let it lie.” There’s a beat of silence as he starts the engine. “So, you want to spend the night in the motel? See what I did? I didn’t let it lie.”

 

“Kyungsoo—”

 

“I said I would and then I didn’t—”

 

“Kyungsoo—”

 

“I went the other way—”

 

“Kyungsoo—”

 

“Yes?”

 

“We are just going to be friends, okay?”

 

“Yeah, great,” Kyungsoo concurs as he pulls out of the lot. “Friends. Best thing.”

 

—

 

“You realize, of course, that we can never be friends,” Kyungsoo tells him after they’ve been on the road for a while. Jongin glances up from his book.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What I’m saying— and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form— is that two hot gay guys can’t be friends. The part always gets in the way.”

 

“That is not true,” Jongin retorts. “I have a number of gay friends and there’s no involved.”

 

“No you don’t.”

 

“Yes I do.”

 

“No you don’t.”

 

“Yes I do.”

 

“You only think you do.”

 

Jongin closes his book and turns his full attention on Kyungsoo. “You’re saying I’m having with these men without my knowledge?” 

 

“No, I’m saying they all want to have with you.”

 

There’s another beat of silence while Jongin thinks about that.

 

“…they do not.”

 

“They do too.”

 

“They do not.”

 

“Do too.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because no gay man can be friends with a guy he finds attractive,” Kyungsoo tells him, glancing between Jongin and the road. “He always wants to have with him.”

 

“So you’re saying a gay man can be friends with a dude he finds unattractive.”

 

“Nope; you pretty much want to nail them, too.”

 

Jongin crosses his arms across his chest. “What if they don’t want to have with you?”

 

“Doesn’t matter. The thing is already out there, so the friendship is ultimately doomed, and that’s the end of the story.”

 

“Well I guess we’re not going to be friends then,” Jongin concludes, turning his head to look out the window.

 

“I guess not.”

 

“It’s too bad,” Jongin quips. After a pause, he adds, “You were the only person I knew in New York.”

 

The morning finds Jongin parking the car in downtown New York near Washington Square, sun shining down on them once again as Kyungsoo hops out and retrieves his duffel bag from the backseat. Jongin steps out too, standing beside Kyungsoo on the sidewalk as the back door slams closed.

 

“Well, it was nice knowing you,” Kyungsoo grins. Jongin returns the smile.

 

“Yeah. It was interesting.”

 

“Yeah. Thanks for the ride.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

There’s another awkward moment, neither of them really knowing what to say next.

 

“Well, have a nice life,” Jongin says lightheartedly, extending a hand that Kyungsoo gratefully shakes.

 

“You too.”

 

Jongin gets back in his car and restarts the engine as Kyungsoo walks away, driving until he disappears into the traffic of New York City.