When Jongin opens the door to his dorm to find Kyungsoo standing with his foot tapping and his arms crossed over his chest, he doesn’t expect what happens next.

He’d woken up that morning with a hangover headache. It wasn’t a bad one necessarily—he’s definitely had worse—but enough that his memories of the previous night are groggy at best and irretrievable at worst. At the very least Jongin’s pretty sure he somehow ended up on Yixing’s lap, pressing open mouthed kisses to the dancer’s soft skin and leaving a hickey—but possibly more than one—on Yixing’s neck. This would be fine, more or less, if not for the fact that Yixing has a boyfriend, and that his boyfriend just happens to be Kyungsoo.

Jongin’s expecting a fight, maybe, or a fist to the face perhaps. Kyungsoo’s not very tall but he’s pretty much solid muscle and Jongin has no doubt it would hurt if Kyungsoo decided to hit him. But Kyungsoo doesn’t, and even though Jongin flinches when Kyungsoo uncrosses his arms, all Kyungsoo says is “Do you know what you’re doing after you graduate?”

Jongin frowns—he hates having this conversation with anyone, let alone a friend he’s sort of really betrayed and just wants to pay penance to. Still, this is Kyungsoo he’s talking to so he replies quickly. “Um, I just figured I’d figure something out, you know? I don’t have a job yet and my parents aren’t going to let me move back in with them, but Sehun’s said he’d—”

“Move in with us. Me and Yixing.” Kyungsoo’s interruption is abrupt and Jongin gapes but Kyungsoo isn’t finished. “We’ve got that extra room that Xing lived in before we got together. And unlike Sehun’s couch the bed in there is clean, comfortable, and you can have it for as long as you need.”

Jongin can’t pay any rent yet, and he tells Kyungsoo this after regaining a little of his composure, but Kyungsoo says he and Yixing don’t need Jongin’s money.

“You can do chores or something,” he says, like that settles it. In a way it does, because nothing more is said on the subject even later. And when Jongin finally does graduate that May, Kyungsoo and Yixing are there to help him move his stuff out of the dorms and into their apartment.

Into Jongin’s new apartment.

Jongin finds the rent issue closed too because Yixing apparently has a tendency to zone out while washing dishes and has burnt his hands under hot water a few times too many. Jongin is happy to take over that chore, and others too, and the three of them soon settle into a comfortable rhythm.

Or perhaps a rhythm that’s just comfortable enough. Yixing and Kyungsoo don’t bring up what happened at that party all those months before, and of course Jongin doesn’t either. Days pass, and then weeks; Jongin finds a job, finally, but it’s barely part time and barely minimum wage. He still can’t pay much for rent, and when the worst happens after living with Kyungsoo and Yixing for nearly two months and Jongin accidentally shrinks an entire laundry batch of Kyungsoo’s clothes, he can’t pay much for that either.

“I don’t need your money, Jongin,” Kyungsoo tells him, once again being far more gracious and forgiving than Jongin expects, deserves, or is prepared to handle.

“But—”

Kyungsoo cuts him off. His smirk is devilish when he says, “I’ll figure out a way you can make it up to me, Jongin-ah. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry? As if. From that point on, worrying is all Jongin seems able to do.

He worries that when he cooks dinner the meals aren’t tasty enough. He worries that when he does chores in exchange for not paying rent that he’s not doing enough. He worries that even if he does all the household chores it still isn’t enough for that lack of paying rent. He worries that he also can’t really pay for groceries, or for Kyungsoo’s ruined clothes. (And he definitely also worries that he’s going to shrink and/or forever ruin even more of those clothes.)

But really what worries Jongin most of all and above all else is simply Kyungsoo himself. Just Kyungsoo.

These worries aren’t unfounded, either. Jongin vividly remembers that heart-shaped grin when Kyungsoo told him he’d figure something out, and Jongin sits in breathless anticipation of what Kyungsoo might come up with to cash in on that.

There’s one particular evening when Kyungsoo comes home from work wearing that same mischievous expression—the one Jongin’s sort of starting to dread. He’s also wearing a sweater/jean combination that’s vaguely familiar to Jongin, possibly because he’s seen those very clothes before in his own closet. Jongin can’t pinpoint exactly why, but he feels a little more antsy and on edge that night, especially when Yixing is very complimentary to Kyungsoo and can’t seem to take his eyes of his boyfriend wearing what Jongin’s now pretty sure are Jongin’s clothes. To make matters worse, for Jongin at least, Yixing keeps smiling at him knowingly like there’s something going on that Jongin should be aware of, but Jongin really doesn’t have a clue.

For a while nothing else out of the ordinary happens. Kyungsoo goes back to black from his own wardrobe and Jongin finally starts breathing a little easier once he convinces himself that the one outfit Kyungsoo’s apparently stolen for good is enough of a pay back. But then it happens again and Jongin doesn’t quite know what to think.

This time Kyungsoo’s had a blissful day off and it’s Jongin coming home to him instead of like before, when it was the other way around. Kyungsoo’s pretty much a burrito where he’s sitting wrapped up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, but when he gets up to make tea and turns to offer Jongin a cup Jongin’s becomes instantly hard when he realizes that the white t-shirt and sweats Kyungsoo’s wearing most definitely belong to Jongin.

He starts to ask—“Are those…?—but thinks better of it when Kyungsoo just looks at him and smiles innocently. And then later, when Yixing gets home too and suggestively his lips as he takes in the sight of his boyfriend decked out in Jongin’s loungewear, Jongin gets hard all over again.

It’s confusing, to be honest. (And if Jongin weren’t so damn sick of worrying all the time this whole scenario might classify as a little worrying, too.) Kyungsoo’s a good looking guy, sure, but he’s not exactly Jongin’s type—never has been. But Kyungsoo in Jongin’s clothes, especially the sweats that do little to hide the appealing bulge of Kyungsoo’s own crotch, is apparently like a shot of caffeine straight to Jongin’s . And suddenly that, plus the dwindling and already meager contents of Jongin’s closet, means Jongin has a serious problem on his hands.

“Why are you so bothered by this?” Sehun asks him over coffee a few days after the second incident. “You live together; your ’s bound to get mixed up with theirs, isn’t it?”

Jongin sighs, loudly, because Sehun just doesn’t get it. This is more than just a case of mistaken ownership and Jongin has no doubt that Kyungsoo knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly how the sight of him in Jongin’s clothes is affecting the dancer’s libido.

Jongin tries to tell Sehun this, he really does. “He’s doing it on purpose,” Jongin reiterates, huffing into his coffee. “I’m sure of it.”

Sehun rolls his eyes, still clearly disbelieving that his precious Soo-hyung is capable of such behavior. “Remember how he forgave you for the whole thing with Yixing? Count your blessings, Jonginnie, cause things could be a lot worse.”

He’s wrong, but it takes Jongin a while to realize it.

After a few more instances in which Kyungsoo blatantly parades around in Jongin’s wardrobe and Jongin develops instant guilt when he rubs one (or more out) while remembering those images, things settle back down again. Jongin resigns himself to a permanent state of missing over half his clothes, and he hopes and prays that this is enough for Kyungsoo to find them even.

For a while it seems like this is the new normal for the three of them—Kyungsoo in Jongin’s sweats or beanie or his favorite hoodie or one of the few button ups he wears out clubbing, Jongin trying his best to ignore how that makes him feel, and Yixing on the couch or at the table or in the kitchen shamelessly checking Kyungsoo out and making sure Jongin recognizes how hot Yixing’s boyfriend is. But then, one day, just when Jongin’s started to forget to remember to be worried, his world’s set spinning again.

He wakes up for an interview, already late, and, after stumbling through his morning routine in the bathroom, opens his closet doors to find the small space absolutely and completely empty. There’s not a single item of clothing to be found and Jongin realizes that this, this exact moment, is Kyungsoo’s true revenge. Sure, wearing Jongin’s clothes and making him squirm in discomfort is an added bonus, and maybe it makes up for the laundry Jongin accidentally ruined. But it’s the panic and the frustration and the hurt that Jongin feels right now—and the sudden realization that Kyungsoo’s, probably, done this on purpose—that makes everything worse.

Unfortunately, Kyungsoo is already gone for the day; Yixing too. There is no one for Jongin to rage at, no one to take Kyungsoo’s side or to soothe Jongin’s anger. And of course there isn’t. No, Jongin had temporarily set his sights on someone who wasn’t his to have, and this is his punishment to bear: he’s all alone; he’s late for an interview for a job that actually means something to him; and he has nothing to wear.

“I swear to God, Kyungsoo,” Jongin mutters under his breath some thirty minutes later as he stands under the awning waiting for the bus which will hopefully get him to his interview with a little under three minutes to spare. He tugs at the collar of the dress shirt he’s stolen—no, temporarily borrowed due to extenuating circumstances—from Yixing and continues grumbling.

“If I’m late for my interview I’m going to put arsenic in your tea leaves. Or mercury in your breakfast cereal. Or-”

“Hey!” Someone yells at him, clearly aggravated. “Are you getting on or what?”

Jongin lifts his head, halted mid-rant against Kyungsoo, and realizes that his bus has arrived and he’s nearly missed it in his continuing haze of anger. He makes a mental note to add this to his growing list of grievances against his flatmate, and turns his attention to his upcoming interview.

He's pretty optimistic about the experience, enough that the smile he’d faked at the start of the interview becomes a real one when they offer him the job on the spot. And, somehow, that smile stays in place, as wide and genuine as ever, even when Jongin gets back home and finds Kyungsoo and Yixing making out of the couch, totally oblivious. He interrupts, shamelessly, removing the shirt he’s borrowed from Yixing and tossing it at the back of Kyungsoo’s head.

“You’re an ,” Jongin speaks harshly, but he’s still high from the job offer and his smile lingers, morphing even into a low laugh when Kyungsoo grimaces but Yixing just looks adorably confused.

His expression becomes even more comically puzzled when he registers that Jongin’s now half-, and transforms into a pout of total bafflement once Kyungsoo tosses back the shirt and replies evenly, “You knew it was coming.”

Jongin’s smile slips. “You took every single item of clothing I owned and hid them from me on the only morning it actually mattered and all you can say is “You knew it was coming?” God damnit, Kyungsoo!”

The force of Jongin’s anger seems to catch Kyungsoo by surprise, but he swallows it down quickly and rises from Yixing’s lap, his fury matching Jongin’s own. Later, Jongin will realize that Kyungsoo’s wearing Jongin’s favorite sweats and a stolen dance shirt; in the moment he’s too upset to see anything other than red, especially when Kyungsoo shouts back.

“How do you think it felt, Jongin, for me to see my boyfriend all tangled up in you and looking totally happy about it? And then for him to say, the next morning, that you have a hot mouth and a killer and that I should ing try you out some time?”

Jongin gapes. They’ve never talked about the party that started this whole revenge thing in the first place, so how was he supposed to know that’s how Yixing felt about the whole situation? He says as much to Kyungsoo, purposely matching his volume to Kyungsoo’s, though his tone comes off more curious and slightly hurt than really angry anymore.

When Kyungsoo responds to Jongin’s half-rhetorical question, he’s returned to his seat on Yixing’s lap and is clearly taking comfort in his boyfriends hands on his waist and lips on his hair.

“Xing told me that maybe he could date you, if things were different. Did you know that, Jongin? So that day I went over to your dorm and told you to move in with us, because I wanted to prove to him that he was wrong, that he couldn’t date you because he was already dating me and you couldn’t be as right for him as I am, no matter how different things could have been.”

Kyungsoo pauses, his anger almost entirely deflated by this point, and turns to hide his face in Yixing’s neck.

“But I’m the one who was wrong,” he whispers, his confession puffing hot against Yixing’s skin as he speaks again, this time directed not to Jongin but to Yixing. “Because I thought it’d be a laugh and petty revenge to steal his clothes but you were so smug about it and so pleased that I liked how much you liked it.”

“And then you,” he turns back to Jongin as Yixing’s mouth forms a smile and moves to press against the curve of Kyungsoo’s ear. “You were so cute and earnest about making it up to me and taking care to only pine from a distance, even though I could tell you still sort of liked Yixing. And I started wearing your clothes and then sometimes, at night, I’d hear you in your room or in the shower, and I liked that too, knowing that it was me who’d done that to you.”

“So you stole his closet,” Yixing concludes, knowing the end of the story but, like Jongin, still not really understanding how Kyungsoo got so far from Point A to Point B.

Kyungsoo has the decency to look sheepish. “I thought your interview was tomorrow, Jongin-ah. I’m sorry; I would have given everything back when I got home today, I swear.”

Jongin’s too distracted by Kyungsoo’s earlier confession to really register the apology. And he’s still too confused to accept the apology either.

“But why?” He asks, coming to sit beside Kyungsoo and Yixing on the sofa when Kyungsoo shoots him a beseeching look and Yixing gestures him over. “If you were trying to tell me that it’s okay that I sometimes get off to thoughts of you in my clothes, that was a really ed up way to do it.”

Kyungsoo sighs, obviously embarrassed, and laments under his breath that he doesn’t want to talk about it. Unperturbed, Jongin makes him.

“You don’t like to sleep in pajamas.” Kyungsoo shrugs and Jongin notes with a conspiratorial look toward Yixing that Kyungsoo’s blushing furiously. “I figured that if you woke up and had nothing to wear, then later, when we came home, you’d still be, you know…”

He trails off, cheeks flaming, and Yixing coos at him while Jongin’s face breaks into a grin. “All this to get me ?” He emphasises the word because it makes Kyungsoo squirm, and obviously enjoys Kyungsoo’s discomfort when Jongin leans forward, invading his personal space, to declare, “All you had to do was ask.”

Kyungsoo squawks and pushes Jongin away before he hides again in the safety of Yixing’s embrace.

“But I have Yixing,” Kyungsoo whines. “I shouldn’t want you.”

“And I have you,” Yixing assures Kyungsoo gently. “But I still wanted him. Want him,” Yixing amends, tilting Kyungsoo’s face up so he can cover Kyungsoo’s mouth with kisses. “It’s okay to want more, Soo. It doesn’t make you selfish and it certainly doesn’t make me love you any less. God knows I was just as appreciative of you in his clothes as he was.”

“And him in yours?” Kyungsoo asks, growing cheeky.

Yixing’s eyes close and he groans. “That too.”

Jongin, from his spot on the couch, watches the exchange in utter fascination. “I want you both,” he admits, suddenly loathe to interrupt their intimacy but feeling an increasing urgency to tell them both how he feels. “What does that make me?”

“A perfect fit,” Yixing smiles as he speaks, even as Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and Jongin mimes curling his fingers in disgust at how cheesy Yixing is being.

“Unlike Kyungsoo in my clothes,” Jongin jokes, to lighten the mood.

Kyungsoo makes a noise of indignant protest; Yixing giggles and agrees; Jongin takes the Chinese man’s hand when Yixing offers it, and moves closer, snuggling up against Kyungsoo and sighing happily when Yixing’s arm extends around his bare shoulders and holds them both tight.