150622

 

“All I’m saying is that you should appreciate my efforts to keep us all alive!”

 

It’s been a week since he left.

 

Seven whole days without Baekhyun, and Chanyeol’s deterioration is not slowing.

 

Seven whole days without Baekhyun leaves Jongin wishing he’d never come home that day.

 

Seven whole days without Baekhyun, yet Kyungsoo has already purged the thought from his mind.

 

There is something evil clawing its way out of his heart. He’s blinded by the false happiness he finds in Yifan, and frankly, there isn’t enough logic in his distraught mind to rediscover himself. The continued and somehow worsened neglect from Jongin doesn’t do him any good. It also doesn’t help that he has no best friend to seek guidance from, since one of them decided to bail and the other finds the closest thing to pleasure in the depressing dark of his room’s confines. Kyungsoo would prefer to blame his straying on the current emotional states of his housemates, but there’s a voice that sounds a lot like Minseok in his head, reminding him that, “This was your choice.” He would ideally favor the logic that Yifan is his shoulder to cry on in these sad ages, that the man only acts as his comforter in times of need. Others would beg to differ, seeing as hands roam farther than the friend-zone, and eyes gaze deeper into the soul.

 

Kyungsoo’s hyperaware of his wrongdoings, though he tries to convince himself otherwise. The guilt building up in acid that scorches his insides is just a constant reminder of how he ed things up before anyone could know it. Breaking the news about Baekhyun to an already stressed Jongin had instantly brought him back to reality, the joyous fluttering inside dissolving at the sight of his lover’s disbelief turned insanity. The first day he was sympathetic, given that he sailed the very same ship hours before. In the days following, Jongin’s presence around the apartment became even more remote than before, and the empathy died out. The rare hours when the youngest is home are usually spent arguing with Kyungsoo and trying to stay out of Chanyeol’s way. The disputes always end with him slamming the door to isolation and Kyungsoo feeling infinitely worse about his rising infidelity. But somehow the remorse fails to outweigh the satisfaction of being attended to by Yifan.

 

Perhaps that’s why when Kyungsoo comes home from yet another extra shift at the cafe, the two engage in a bloody, heated fight worse than any that had taken place in the past week.

 

“What? Are you implying that I don’t care about you?”

 

“Oh, come on! Jongin, quit twisting my ing words!”

 

“I’m not twisting anything!”

 

“Well it sure does feel like you’re twisting my arm to make this relationship work,” Kyungsoo sneers, eyes glaring.

 

Only when the fire in Jongin’s argument visibly deflates does he realise what he’s said.

 

“Oh, well if that’s how you feel, then alright,” Jongin succumbs, voice cracking and tears welling up in his eyes. “I guess I’m not worth trying for anymore.”

 

Exasperation floods Kyungsoo’s tone, “What are you saying? This is bull!”

 

“No, it’s not bull! You’ve been gone all day, every day of the week since Baekhyun left! Do you know how much Chanyeol needs you right now? How much I needed you?”

 

“You’re one to talk, aren’t you? At practice nearly 10 hours everyday, and you suddenly have the right to talk to me like this?”

 

“We already went over this! You said you understood!”

 

Rage continues to build, increase, take over, and then it slips.

 

“You probably just made an excuse to go off and let Oh Sehun you!”

 

It is silent, eerily so.

 

But for bated breaths from both parties, it is silent.

 

“J-Jongin, I’m-”

 

“No, just… stop.”

 

“Baby, I’m so sorry.”

 

“You have lost the right to call me that, Do Kyungsoo.”

 

“Jongin!”

 

“I am appalled right now, you know that? I asked you to trust me, and you accuse me of cheating? Are you out of your mind?”

 

“I didn’t mean-”

 

“Even in this time I’ve been alone and away from you, never once did I even consider the possibility of you being unloyal - not once”

 

Somewhere, Kyungsoo can hear Satan snickering at the irony of the situation

 

“I’ll admit that you’re doing the right thing by taking up work for money. I’m sorry for flipping out on you for not being here,” and the elder prays that Jongin is on the track to forgive him. “But that by no means gives you any leeway to conclude that I am not faithful to you! Do you not remember what we promised each other when we became friends? We said we would always trust each other - trust! Does it mean nothing to you now? Don’t you realise that’s what had kept us together all these years?”

 

Kyungsoo pleads, “I am so sorry.”

 

“I don’t know if an apology is going to fix this, honestly. I feel so betrayed, Kyungsoo.”

 

And it would be great if he could persuade Jongin to feel otherwise, but any words that come to mind are rendered useless when his lips are stapled shut.

 

“Speechless, are you?”

 

Jongin sighs and rakes a hand down his face.

 

“I never thought it would come to this, Soo. It makes me question whether you want me anymore.”

 

Finally something shocks him out of his reverie.

 

“Love, of course I want you! I didn’t mean to say it! I trust you with my entire being. I don’t know why it came out, I promise. I was just so irritated that you weren’t understanding where I was coming from and it happened. You are an angel, I know you’d never do that to me, Nini.”

 

Jongin suddenly lets a sob rip through his throat, tired of being the strong one for so long.

 

“I want to say it’s okay and that you were just stressed but I can’t! I’m not supposed to be able to forgive that easily, I’m not someone you can just push around!”

 

“Jongin, baby.”

 

Kyungsoo moves closer to the other and pulls him down to the bed. Two caring hands cup his cheeks, wiping away the spillage there.

 

“I know that you aren’t like that. You’re one of the most headstrong people I know,” he chides, earning a tiny chuckle and a few sniffs from Jongin. “Where could you have possibly gotten the idea that you aren’t independent enough?”

 

“U-um.”

 

“You can tell me, Nini. I won’t get mad.”

 

“You won’t?”

 

“I won’t.”

 

“You’re sure?”

 

He cracks a small smile.

 

“Yes, I’m sure.”

 

With a few more coaxing to his face, Jongin answers in a barely audible whisper, “Sehun told me that you're just using me to your will, and that you order me around. He wants me to find someone else.”

 

Kyungsoo’s jaw drops and his eyes go wide as the Sun.

 

“That er, Oh Sehun!”

 

“Soo, you said you wouldn’t get mad!”

 

“But he’s the bane of my existence, that damned Oh kid!”

 

“Don’t call him that-”

 

“That idiot doesn’t deserve you! He hurt you like this!”

 

“But, Kyungsoo, you’ve hurt me worse.”

 

Jongin shuts him up quickly.

 

“I-I’m aware… and there aren’t a whole lot of things I can say to beg for your heart back, but I just want you to know that I love you so much and whatever I said right then, I did not mean. It wasn’t intended to hurt you, my love. I’m so sorry.”

 

With a long, drawn-out exhale, Jongin relents.

 

“I forgive you.”

 

A smile spreads its way across Kyungsoo’s face in white pearls, gleaming brightly.

 

“I love you.”

 

“You’re lucky I’m so whipped, or it would have taken weeks of remediation for you to get in my good graces again.”

 

Jongin rolls his eyes sarcastically and scoffs.

 

“I’m glad,” Kyungsoo mouths and leans in to his rightful home, Jongin’s arms.

 

And while all is happy and good, this relentless thought of Yifan in place of Jongin doesn’t leave while Kyungsoo kisses him breathless.

 

×××××

 

150627

 

The cafe is closing now. The hours between Friday and Saturday are quickly dwindling to an end.

 

Jongin isn’t expected to be home from rehearsals until the next afternoon. D-Day is approaching, and the professors are becoming more and more demanding. It’s practically Hell Week for all the dance majors, and every student languidly grazes around, devoid of life when they aren't on stage, in front of mirrors, or under a spotlight. While the young freshman sweats away with scrutinizing eyes all around him, Kyungsoo waits upon similar students of other interests.

 

The job is going well, and so is the pay given the fact that he takes up any extra hours he can stack on. Orders aren’t too particularly hard to craft - except when certain girls adorned in Converse, Daisy Dukes, and crop tops that expose too much skin request those stupid “secret” recipes. Boss is nice enough to let the auxiliary cord go to whoever is manning the counter as long as the music is considered clean. Besides the afternoon tsunami wave of customers, the flow in and out of the shop is fairly even and quite relaxing even. All in all, work is ideal for Kyungsoo, even if sometimes his school schedule conflicts.

 

But amongst the perfection of his day to day routine comes both the dread in his blood and the apple of his eye. Yifan with his near silver locks, toned build, towering height, sultry voice, soft eyes, and warm heart. The man stirs up a mess of desire in Kyungsoo’s body, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. It’s been an estimated three and a half weeks since his last night of intimacy with Jongin. His is really starting to feel cast aside, and is ready for some kind of release, any kind. So when Yifan approaches him with even just the slightest hint of lust in his aura, Kyungsoo forsakes all consciousness and morals and loses himself in the intensity of their painful .

 

The tick of the second hand on some clock in the corner counts agonizingly slowly as Kyungsoo wills for it to tell him he can retire for the night and go home. Not many people are on the streets, much less in the cafe, and the lack of activity is causing his eyelids to droop. But while physically his body is exhausted, his mind is anything but. His senses are hyper aware of his workmate in the backroom, and he blesses curses whoever’s task it was to assign shifts and believed it was a jolly swell idea to put Yifan next to his -deprived self beyond midnight hours. There is a throbbing in the recesses deep in the back of his skull, pounding, pounding, pounding. The upper half of his body is lacing his arms in a straight jacket and commanding him to stay put and to stay loyal, but the lower half has intentions otherwise.

 

“Kyungsoo,” a voice slurs from behind him.

 

Obviously, someone is a bit more than by the tired rasp in his name. It takes actual effort for him not to groan and revel in how absolutely provocative it sounded. But the ongoing internal conflict between sense and sensuality is still being battled, and Kyungsoo’s eyes remain trained on that subtle tick, tick, tick, of the clock.

 

“Kyungsoo.”

 

The shorter male pivots around unable to resist the invitation, and practically eating up the other’s unkempt appearance with a bite of his lips. How sinful it would be to mesh them right against Yifan’s, tasting his sweetness. Oh, it’s becoming hotter and hotter as each second passes by. Morals cease to matter. Want takes over.

 

The last restraint is broken when an image of Jongin flashes like a red light in his head, but Kyungsoo disregards the sign like it means nothing in the moment.

 

Stupid Yifan with his stupid gloriously delicious voice

 

In the blink of an eye, Kyungsoo has already skipped the three steps to reach Yifan. Without much thought, he leaps onto him like a predator his prey and slots his mouth onto the taller’s. At first unsuspecting, Yifan jumps a little, but relaxes into passionate action. Their kiss is breathless, and rapidly progresses into something increasingly heated; something that the energy right from their souls, but demands more, more, more. It’s all so careless as teeth clash against each other and bite down on roaming tongues. Kyungsoo can’t for the life of him remember the last time he’d been so undeniably feisty and so receptacle to touch. Wandering hands travel all over bodies, lurking under now unprofessionally worn white button ups and into the waistbands of briefs that are much too constricting. Curtained windows are still drawn back, and though the city is practically dead, the exposure does nothing but add to the excitement of being caught in such a compromising situation. Exploring, squeezing, trembling, , so much is happening that there is no room for any just intercession.

 

“Oh, you are so y,” Kyungsoo pants as they pull away for breath, a string of saliva connecting them so sinfully.

 

A yank to his hair and the intensity of their makeout session resumes.With tingling lips, Yifan leaves his mouth and down to the crook of his neck. The trail of his tongue is so wet and it scorches his skin, burning it with the red flames of desire. Lust consumes Kyungsoo, engulfing him in displays of pleasure and prospects of ultimate satisfaction. The nipping at the sensitive skin of his neck encourages a voluminous growl, straight from his lungs. The animistic desire rages inside him and the boundaries of his body are tested to the limit as he grows harder and harder.

 

“Soo, Kyungsoo.”

 

The sight of a beautifully wrecked Yifan under his control causes Kyungsoo’s knees to wobble and hands to shake.

 

“What are we doing?” He pants in exhilarated disbelief, eyes blown and cheeks flushed.

 

Kyungsoo tackles him against the back wall, claiming temporary dominance, and effectively shuts him up.

 

“Why talk about it?” He purrs with a devilish spark in his pupils.

 

Yifan struggles with his next choice of words. He opens his mouth a couple of times, trying to get a statement out.

 

“Yifan,” Kyungsoo persists, impatient and half the way to nutting.

 

“Listen,” he gently forces the shorter off of him, intentionally creating distance between them. “We need to talk first.”

 

“What is there to talk about? , I just want you to touch me.”

 

“And that is exactly what we need to talk about.”

 

Whining, Kyungsoo squirms in anticipation.

 

“Okay, fine. Hit me, and make it quick!”

 

“There’s no other way to say this, I guess.”

 

“Then just say it-”

 

“Aren’t you dating someone?”

 

If he were driving, Kyungsoo would have come to a screeching halt. He was not in any way expecting that.

 

“U-um, where did you get that assumption?” He stammers, struggling to appear unfazed.

 

Contrary to the front Kyungsoo tries to put up, his heart is racing wild as a stampede of horses. He’s sure there are suddenly five buckets’ worth of sweat on his brow. Does Yifan know?

 

Yifan clears his throat to dissipate the now awkward situation.

 

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

 

It’s an innocent question, really. But it brings back memories and a new nightmare Kyungsoo never thought he’d have to deal with.

 

“I-I do.”

 

“I thought there was a guy with you then?”

 

, he knows about Jongin.

 

“His name was something like Jongun… or something like that,” he trails off.

 

Bursting into forced laughter, Kyungsoo guffaws, “Jongun, that’s a new one! Listen, he’s just my b-best friend.” He pales, wanting to stab himself when he says it. “Jongin and I aren’t dating.”

 

Yeah, because we’re engaged.

 

Anything for the D.

 

“You’re sure? I mean, he looked kind of completely smitten with you.”

 

“Yifan, I’m very sure. Now please,” Kyungsoo struts closer and paws at the other’s chest.

 

“I want you.”

 

Sin was satiated, skin was satisfied.

 

But at the end of the night, with warmth still pooling somewhere inside of him, Kyungsoo returns home to Jongin’s embrace.

 

His heart breaks when Jongin’s arms snake around his waist and squeeze tight, as if he were afraid to let go.

 

Maybe Kyungsoo needs Jongin as an anchor more than Jongin needs him.

 

×××××

 

150701

 

Jongin feels half dead. Black circles his eyes like a panda, his complexion is pale as a ghost, somehow his hands have gone cold and clammy. Lights flash all around him as the stage technology students swarm around like a hive of bees, adjusting and readjusting various knobs, ropes, switches, and lights of all sorts. In his peripheral vision he spies his professor clad in a snapback and sweats, and he can’t help but admit to the inkling of contempt he has for the man, treating him and his fellow dance students like slaves. Jongin has half the mind to ditch the whole thing, drop out of school, and run home to Kyungsoo.

 

“It’s okay, Jongin. Just a couple hours more until life will return to normal,” he utters to soothe his aching body and soul. “All you have to do is play Kai for a few minutes onstage and accept the flowers from numerous fangirls. Then you can hightail your way over to Kyungsoo in the crowd.”

 

Jongin heaves a sigh while massaging the knots in his shoulders.

 

“I never would have taken up dancing back then if I had known this would be the result.”

 

“We both know that’s not true,” a painfully familiar voice pulls him out of his mental musing.

 

He risks a glance up, scared of whose face would meet him.

 

“B-Baekhyun!”

 

Jongin jumps up and flops onto the man, knocking the smaller to the ground. He hugs him with such intent that Baekhyun almost hears his ribs cracking.

 

He manages to wheeze out, “Jongin, you’re squeezing a bit too hard there!”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just,” a hand is offered to help the other up. “I can’t believe you’re actually here. Where have you been, you idiot! Chanyeol’s been withering away like a corpse slowly each day, Kyungsoo’s started as a barista at the cafe Minseok works at. Baekhyun, you’ve missed so much. Where were you?” he spits out all in one breath.

 

Salt caresses his tongue and Jongin realises he’s crying. Hard.

 

“Oh, Jongin. I wish I could tell you.”

 

“Then why don’t you? He wants answers, Baekhyun! He thinks you fell out of love with him! He blames himself for you leaving, and can’t even face me and Kyungsoo simply because of guilt. He needs answers, we all do!”

 

“Jongin, calm down!” He rubs the younger’s back, trying not to garner much attention. “Please believe me when I say it’s for the best. Please, let’s leave it at that.”

 

And Jongin, despite his urges and desperation, has always been trusting with his oldest best friend and relents when he recognizes the pleading in the other’s eyes.

 

“There better be a damn good reason for this, I swear.”

 

“Just believe me, okay? I’m sorry to put this burden on you, Jongin. I’m so sorry but it can’t be helped. Just don’t let anyone know you saw me, okay?” He begs, eyes teary.

 

Jongin pulls him into a tight embrace, his hair softly.

 

“I know, I know. I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

 

In the few moments it takes for him to sober up - because Baekhyun had always been a strong person - it’s time for yet another runthrough of Jongin’s number.

 

Though he’s obligated by grades and money to dance, all he really wants to do is spend time with his best friend. Who knows when he’ll see him next - if he sees him again?

 

“Jongin, go. They’re calling you.”

 

“But you’re here!”

 

“And you have an exam. Besides, the only reason I came was to wish you luck.”

 

Jongin falls silent.

 

“Oh, cheer up. It’s not the end of the world.”

 

“Baekhyun.”

 

“Someone needed to at least try to lighten the mood up,” he jokes somberly.

 

“Kim Jongin!” His professor calls from round the corner.

 

“Better get going, our precious jewel.”

 

“I’ll miss you, Baekhyun. As much as I don’t want to, I’ll keep this meeting a secret. You can trust me,” Jongin sniffs and pulls him into his hold one last time. “We love you. You are always welcome back, no matter why you left.”

 

With a bittersweet smile, Baekhyun draws back and pats the taller’s head fondly. Curse his mother’s short genes.

 

“Take care of them, Jongin.”

 

And with that, he was off.

 

Baekhyun doesn’t tell him about his flight to America the next morning.

 

Jongin tugs himself through the choreographed motions with not much more than a heavy heart and plagued mind.

 

Hours later, the sun has set and audiences are trickling in and buzzing with excited chatter to pass the time.

 

Nerves no longer have effect on him, after years of performing in front of family, friends, and officials alike. But just like any other person, the adrenaline of being on the stage for a crowd of people shouting his name makes its way into his veins and causes his legs to go shaky. Jongin’s nothing short of excited though, and can’t sit still (especially because his leather, skin-tight leggings are clinging to places they shouldn’t).

 

Soon, the lights dim and the first student flounces onto the platform with an elegant lilt in her step. The roster says that Jongin is up third, following Sehun. With a light chuckle, he wonders how Kyungsoo will fare being forced to watch him. He’ll probably call him something close to a “floppy, overcooked spaghetti noodle”. Jongin doesn’t exactly hold anything against his classmate, save for his disturbing words of how Kyungsoo was some kind of hypnotic monster. He shivers at the chilling thought. Sehun’s just trying to look after his friends, he reminds himself and shakes it off.

 

A roar of applause and Jongin feels at ease.

 

It’s time to shine.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the star of our freshmen class, Kai!”

 

He grins, breathtakingly so, and strides past Sehun, who claps him on the back with words of good luck.

 

His routine calls for a bright entrance with bursts of smoke, so he hurries to take position.

 

As Jongin folds himself into Kai, his eyes don’t need to search the ocean of people to spot exactly where Kyungsoo is; he can pinpoint that presence anywhere without so much as a glace up.

 

With the satisfaction of a quieting audience into silence, he nods at the stage manager to start the audio.

 

We’re in ¾, Kai.

 

Five measures before the lights come up, remember that.

 

An enchanting whistle plays softly in his ears, and he begins to sway ever so gracefully side to side.

 

One, two, three. Two, two, three. Three, two three. Four, two, three. Five, two, three.

 

The instrument stops its singing for three beats of complete silence.

 

Pause for effect.

 

Now!

 

A vivid display of red and blue strobes string across the field and the smoke machines play their part.

 

Jongin springs up from his kneeling position and throws his arms out.

 

A powerful hawk soaring over the ocean’s expanse. That’s who you’ve gotta be.

 

You are the one, Kai. Your wings are broader than any other.

 

The new melody is pounding through the speakers with an amplified bass on the offbeat. Fingers flare, toes point, hair is tossed. Kai’s sweat is flying everywhere, rolling in beads off his body. Enthusiasm reaches the mass of onlookers and urges even those on the streets to get a glimpse of the commotion.

 

Kai’s dancing is contagious, and he knows it.

 

Just a minute longer and you’re all Kyungsoo’s.

 

Just a minute. You’ve got this.

 

The music’s tempo increases, going faster and faster while Kai follows right along with ease.

 

Thirty seconds.

 

A spin here, then add a smirk to some girl on the ground for good measure.

 

A swoon and a couple beastly hollers echo back.

 

Okay, Kai.

 

Here it comes, grande finale.

 

With the performance winding to an end, he targets Kyungsoo’s eyes in the crowd. Instantaneously they meet and Jongin feels his world coming to completion. He’s home.

 

Run.

 

High kick.

 

Death drop.

 

Kai’s back hits the stage with a thud, and the audience erupts in a crescendo of roars.

 

Satisfaction is all that courses in his blood.

 

Well done, Kai.

 

Well done.

 

And with a sparkling smile, Jongin returns as he bows in appreciation and flaunts his way down the stairs.

 

Not moments later is he barrelling into Kyungsoo’s arms after getting clearance from his professor and wishing fortune on the performer after him.

 

“Soo!” He pants, out of breath.

 

“Jongin! You were great up there!”

 

“I don’t care about that! All that matters is that things will be like before now! I’ll get to come home to you at regular times, I’ll be next to you at night, I’ll try to help you with dinner! It’ll all be okay! I’m so happy, Soo!”

 

On the outside, Kyungsoo’s got a grin plastered onto his lips. But inside, a whirlpool of emotions threatens to drown him.

 

Jongin is right, things should go back to normal.

 

No more escapades with Yifan fitting him against the wall of the freezer. No more sneaky closing time rendezvous on the counter. No more instances of hands pinned down to the floor while the older s him senseless against wood of Pine-Sol scent. None of that.

 

Kyungsoo regrets letting it get this far. Just a week in, and he’s accomplished more intimate levels with Yifan than with Jongin in five years. He should have stopped while he had the chance; it’s past the point of no return by now. But there’s something about the Chinese man that somehow stumbled his way into his life that he isn’t willing to put up for sale just yet. There’s no turning back now.

 

Guilt-ridden and struck with sympathy, Kyungsoo kisses Jongin deep and long to convey his complicated array of emotions.

 

“That’s right, love.”

 

The syllables get stuck in a lump in his throat and sound cacophonous leaving his larynx.

 

“Everything will go back to normal.”

 

In this moment, Kyungsoo finds himself undeserving of someone so pure and loving as Jongin.

 

“Come, Nini. Let’s go home.”

 

How could the world be so cruel?

 

×××××

 

January 27th, 2016 ㅡ

Untitled

Entry Three

 

Our bodies work in miraculous ways. Breathing in oxygen, using it to generate energy, and manufacturing carbon dioxide that is exhaled out of our systems.

 

Eerily parallel to love, is it not?

 

Look around.

 

Everyone is just a reactant or a product here; often times both. All busy in our own little chemical equations, trying to follow the formula to a T.

 

But what happens when something is missing? What happens when in photosynthesis, there isn’t enough light? What happens when there is an absence of water? Not enough sugar is produced, no sugar is produced.

 

It’s just the same way in a relationship, is it not?

 

You don’t put your all in, you don’t get much out.

 

Then there are those parasitic types of symbiosis.

 

You pump the life out of my soul, and I do nothing.

 

Because I love you.

 

You benefit, I get left behind.

 

It works like that.

 

We always complain about teachers lecturing about things we’ll never use in the future.

 

Try again, sweetie. Read in between the lines next time.

 

It’ll save you from heartache.

 

×××××

 

150918

 

“Yifan!”

 

“Say it louder.”

 

“But that’s embarrassing!”

 

“Oh, come on. You know you enjoy the thought of those innocent, unknowing customers out there hearing you scream my name while I bang you against the wall.”

 

“Ah! You’re so- Oh, right there!”

 

“What’s that, baby?”

 

“You’re so dirty!”

 

“Take a long, hard look at yourself right now. Stretched out around my , bruised and swollen lips gaping, chest pressed on these thin walls. Go ahead and call me dirty again. I’m not the one begging like a for more.”

 

“Y-Yifan! I’m almost there!”

 

“I’m right there with you.”

 

“Oh, you feel so good!”

 

“You’re so tight.”

 

“So close, so close!”

 

“Whose are you, Soo? Whose are you?”

 

“I’m yours! Only yours, Yi-"

 

“Soo!”

 

Kyungsoo jolts awake, panting and sweating as if he ran a marathon.

 

It isn’t Yifan whose hands are gripping his shoulders. It isn’t his concerned eyes boring through Kyungsoo’s own. It isn’t his voice that shakes him awake from a shameful dream. No, Jongin is the one who hovers above him, with eyebrows knit tight in worry.

 

“What’s wrong, love? Is it a nightmare? Do you want me to grab iced water?”

 

“Nightmare?”

 

“You were trembling in your sleep,”Jongin frowns. “You kept making these weird, pained noises, so I thought maybe you had a nightmare or something.”

 

Kyungsoo chews on his lip.

 

“Something like that,” he decides.

 

Drawing his hands back into his lap, Jongin’s tension doesn’t resolve.

 

“Are you alright?” He treads on thin waters.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Kyungsoo sighs and runs fingers through sweat-laced hair. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

 

The younger fiddles with his thumbs and purses his lips clamped shut.

 

With much deliberation, he says, “You know you can talk to me when you need to, right?”

 

“Yeah, of course. What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo’s heart thumps wildly against his chest in trepidation.

 

“It’s just-”

 

Jongin takes a deep inhale, weighing his next words carefully.

 

“I feel like you should be relying on me more, I guess.”

 

He waits for any negative reaction, but gets nothing.

 

Gently and enthusiastically, “I mean, we’re getting married! We don’t know when just yet, but it’s happening. If you’re struggling with anything, you should be telling me. As someone who will be beside you in your long and prosperous future, I think that I should be helping you out in whatever ways possible.”

 

“So what are you trying to say?”

 

Kyungsoo’s statement is clipped. Jongin falters.

 

“Nevermind. I-It’s okay. Forget about it,” he murmurs, beginning to climb off the bed.

 

“It’s three in the morning, where do you think you’re going?”

 

Breathe in. Breathe out. No tears.

 

“I’m going to get that water.”

 

With a small click, Kyungsoo is left alone.

 

How do things progressively get worse each day? They supposedly were destined to repair themselves after this whole monumental showcase stopped soaking up Jongin’s free time. Instead, things have taken a turn for the worse. Life has been rockier than a wooden ship on turbulent waves.

 

Too much on his mind, Kyungsoo reaches for his phone.

 

A banner that lights up across his screen when he presses the home button catches his attention.

 

Upon opening it, a tickling inch of excitement flutters around inside him:

 

Kim Minseok

 

I hate to bother you - especially when you should be with Jongin - but I urgently need you to come in if you see this. My grandmother was just admitted to the hospital and I need to check on her. Please come help out Yifan if you can. I promise I’ll owe you back. I’ll even pay for your service, I swear. Thank you so much, Kyungsoo!

 

(P.S. I’m checking the security tapes later. Don’t do anything that you don’t want Jongin to hear about.)

 

SENT 02:47 AM

 

Though his common morals insist he should be guilty for using Minseok’s sick grandmother as an excuse to fuel his own scandalous affair, Kyungsoo can’t help but let the giddiness bubble up to his chest.

 

Much nimbler than Jack, he hastens to pull on semi-formal work attire and make himself at least appear half-decent.

 

As he rushes out the bedroom, he encounters a startled Jongin.

 

“What’s wrong? Are you hungry?” The younger interrogates with much less fire in his voice. Kyungsoo presumes he almost sounds exhausted, if the slight rasp and dark eye circles mean anything.

 

Jongin slumps over to him all dressed out in nice clothes, decked out in rare hair gel and cologne.

 

It doesn’t take long to put two and two together.

 

“Work?”

 

Kyungsoo hums; he doesn’t do much more to acknowledge him.

 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to go in until Monday.”

 

“Well-”

 

“You had the weekend off! I was going to take y-”

 

“Jongin, would you shut up? Not everything can conform to what you want.”

 

He effectively cuts him off, but doesn’t notice the frantic glaze in the dancer's weary eyes.

 

“Y-Yeah, sorry. I’ll just… go back to bed then. Come back soon, okay? Stay safe. Take the car. I love you.” He rushes to spew before the grenade planted in his heart explodes.

 

Dumbfounded, Kyungsoo simply stands in his place. If presented the opportunity, he wouldn’t be able to recall to anyone what just happened. Like the oblivious idiot he is, he watches Jongin’s retreating figure into the bedroom. Only a microscopic pang of woe hits him, but it takes just that much to come to his senses.

 

“Look, Jongin. Come here.”

 

Jongin has long since vowed to keep his independence and individuality, but his heart softens at Kyungsoo’s beckoning.

 

“Come, love.”

 

Tiredly wiping the water gathering at the line of his eyes, Jongin gives in and morosely wallows to his fiance.

 

“Yes?”

 

Kyungsoo invites him into open arms, and Jongin snuggles into the familiar scent of comfort. How he’s missed this.

 

“I’m sorry, Jongin. This one is pretty imperative.”

 

Immediately, the good samaritan in the now sophomore’s heart awakens.

 

“What? What’s happened? Is everything alright? Who is it? Rockhyun?”

 

“No, not Rockhyun. It’s Minseok’s grandmother. She’s been taken into the ER. He needs me to cover his shift. Says he’ll pay for it as well.”

 

“Oh, she’s such a kind person though! Tell him I’m wishing for her fast recovery, okay?”

 

“Of course,” Kyungsoo assures and let’s go of the younger. “I’d better get going then.”

 

“Yeah, get on your way, Soo.”

 

“Will you be alright?”

 

Jongin smiles to ease him.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve got a big old teddy bear in the back to protect me if any burglars were to intrude.”

 

As if on cue, a rumbling snort comes from Chanyeol’s room and the two share a laugh.

 

“Really though, it’s okay. I’m sorry I made such a big deal over something so important like this.”

 

“You’re fine, Nini. Now go back to bed, it’s too early for your lazy to be up,” the elder jokes, trying to take some of the bite off his mind.

 

“Okay, okay. I hear you. Go bring home that dough, yeah? Don’t even think about me.”

 

After a short-lived goodnight peck, Jongin giddily skips back to the bed.

 

In silence, solemnity says salutations.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t feel guilty, but rather relieved, and he knows it isn’t a good sign. Nothing ever is these days.

 

Forgoing Jongin’s advice, Kyungsoo decides to travel by foot. The walk to the cafe really isn’t one to be made alone, especially at some ungodly hour of a September dusk. Yet somehow, with the thought that Yifan would be in the near future, Kyungsoo feels infinitely more secure. He ends up cutting the fifteen minutes it takes to arrive at the door down by skipping his way there. All things Jongin are pushed to the farthest crevices of his mentality.

 

Yifan is alone and busy swiping at a table of crumbs when Kyungsoo pushes the door open with a chime of bells.

 

“Yes, just one second,” the employee dusts the rag off and drags his feet to the counter. His eyes are barely more than narrow slits. “What will it be?”

 

“Hm, I’m not feeling like a drink right now, but I’d appreciate it if you could give me something steamy.”

 

The familiar flirtatious tone causes Yifan to finally hone in on who is before him.

 

“Soo! Why are you here?”

 

“Minseok didn’t tell you?”

 

“I wasn’t expecting him to send you though. You know how for some reason he doesn’t like the prospect of us being alone together. He must be catching on.”

 

The statement freezes Kyungsoo’s heart on the spot.

 

“Anyways, I thought he’d get someone like Ryeowook or Hongbin to fill in for him.”

 

“Well, aren’t you a lucky one? Neither one of those two would give you what I can,” the shorter purrs, desperately wanting some action. “Why don’t we switch off those cameras and lights and get on with it? No one ever starts coming until around five, we’ll have so much time to draw this out.”

 

Unsure, Yifan offers a noncommittal shrug.

 

“Come on, Daddy. No one will ever know,” Kyungsoo winks.

 

That’s all it takes for the other to lose all restraint.

 

With a firm grasp and a motive, he leads them both to the black box in the Boss’ office.

 

Too much happens that morning as the moon gives way to the sun.

 

Another mistake added to the list.