~~~

5:30 PM

FRIDAY

Pulling the nth shirt over his head, Jongin tosses it on the floor with a sigh of frustration before kneeling in front of his closet and proceeding to dig through its contents once more. He’s been doing this for a solid hour now and, despite that, he’s finding it immensely difficult choosing a shirt to wear. He has absolutely no idea what Sehun likes; what his favorite color is, for instance, and he bites his lip in concentration.

He grabs a basic, white tee and holds it up but he instantly discards it and throws it aside the second he notices a yellow stain on the chest area. Damn it. He finds another one, a slightly classier one; a light blue blouse, which Jongin soon recognizes to be an undershirt he wore to his Grandmother’s annual gathering some years ago, and after carefully inspecting it and making sure there aren’t any unidentified stains or holes in it, he carefully places it on his bed.

He’d kicked Baekhyun and Jongdae out an hour ago, they were both practically running around Jongin’s room like a pair of headless chickens while attempting to find something for the latter to wear, all while simultaneously shoving a ton of dating advice in his face, which Jongin found a tad bit odd given that he was specifically told not to treat the upcoming meetup like a date, by Jongdae. But Jongin stopped questioning his best friends' strange ways of thinking ages ago, and now he’s just kind of used to it. In fact, he’s low key thankful Baekhyun and Jongdae were as wound up as they were earlier (come to think of it, Jongin is at least 100% Baekhyun and Jongdae were even more worked up than he was), since their anxiousness did wonders to calm his nerves, which were practically a spazzing mess before they arrived at his house.

Standing up, Jongin cracks his back and shudders when the cold air hits his exposed chest. He checks his phone and exhales upon realizing that Sehun’s last lesson ended two minutes ago, and a feeling of both anxiety and excitement erupts somewhere deep inside his gut. He’s not nervous, per say, but rather curious. He seriously wonders what Sehun is going to wear and he furrows his eyebrows when the thought of whether or not he’ll look too overdressed hits him. He seriously does not want to show up at the café clad too dramatically but neither does he want to look too casual. Should I message him and ask him what he’s gonna wear? he thinks to himself and promptly decides against the idea. That’d be strange. Very strange.

With a sigh, Jongin runs a hand through his hair before running the same hand over his shirt on his bed, smoothing out the wrinkles while he thinks of what to do next. He figures he’ll wear his usual black skinny jeans and perhaps his favorite black sweater, but he isn’t too sure about the latter. He sits down on the floor, in the middle of the mess he’s (and Baekhyun and Jongdae for that matter) created, and lets his exhausted gaze roam around the room. For once, he seriously sympathises with the female gender given that he’s only been going at choosing an outfit for an hour and he already feels like hurling himself out the nearest window.

Don’t treat it like a date. Jongdae’s words are on repeat like a mantra in his head. It all feels so surreal - him, Kim Jongin, a normal 11th grader, going out for coffee and tea with the school’s most popular student, and football player, Oh Sehun. The fact that Sehun even brought himself to reply to Jongin’s message from the very start sends a shudder of happiness travelling down the latter’s spine. He’s had to pinch himself on multiple occasions solely to ensure that he wasn’t dreaming when Sehun had messaged him and still, to this day, it still feels like a dream; too good to be true. Initially, Jongin wholeheartedly expected Sehun to ignore his message and proceed to shoot him quizzical looks for the next couple of weeks at school but here he is, standing in the middle of his clothes covered floor, in the process of picking an outfit to wear to the bubble tea café, where’ll he’ll be meeting none other than Sehun in a little over an hour. 

Don’t treat it like a date.

He hasn’t messaged Sehun all afternoon, save for an occasional ‘okay’ and ‘sure’ every now and then, in fear of coming off as too excited and thus downright weird, but he plans on messaging the latter in a little bit to ask him about the location, which Sehun has yet to provide him with. Jongin remembers just how jittery and straight up unfocused he’d been during his entire Biology lesson and, in all honesty, he still feels a tad bit giddy just thinking about what could possibly happen later on.

Don’t treat it like a date.

Is he gonna wear a hoodie? Jeans? Something multicolored? A suit? Jongin bites his lip at the endless possibilities regarding Sehun’s potential attire. One half of him wants to message Sehun and ask him what he’s gonna wear but the other half of him desperately objects to it, since Jongin is at least ninety nine percent sure he’ll come off as desperate, and he’d rather come off as anything but that, anytime.

Fastening his belt buckle, Jongin skips to the bathroom and stares at himself in the mirror. Running a hand through his hair, which, surprisingly, is still extremely soft to the touch, he lazily styles it with his fingers, making sure it’s nice and messy, before bending down and washing his face, the icy water doing a tremendous job at settling his nerves. His eye bags aren’t too prominent, thank God, but he smears a thin layer of concealer on top of them just in case (he figures it’s reasonable since he’s only slept for two hours, not including the ten minutes he slept in the cafeteria), closely followed by a layer of BB cream. Normally, he’d never, ever wear makeup, and he smears the beige colored cream across his face with a bit of reluctance, but there’s something about sitting face to face with Sehun for hours that makes his self consciousness flare up, so he figures a thin layer won’t hurt. Not to mention he doubts he’ll be able to look Sehun in the eye for longer than ten minutes without breaking into a sweat.

Jongin reaches up and grabs a black bottled fragrance off the upper shelf; his father’s fragrance, and sprays an adequate amount all over himself (majority of it ending up in his mouth, much to his distaste. Literally.) before placing the bottle back on the shelf. He figures he’ll deal with the consequences when he gets home later.

Inhaling the strong and rather sharp scent of his (father’s) perfume, Jongin is suddenly struck with the thought of Sehun’s scent, the smell of manliness with a hint of honey that the blond has significantly grown to adore. In fact, he’d stopped dead in his tracks the other day the very second the smell of Sehun’s fragrance hit him while walking down a random hallway at school. Jongin only chuckles to himself as he exits the bathroom. If Jongdae were (still) here, the blond is at least a hundred percent sure he would’ve called him ‘smitten’.

Don’t treat it like a date.

Checking his phone, Jongin swallows the lump in his throat. No matter how many times he’s convinced himself that he isn’t nervous in the least, a small part of him begs to differ. He figures it’s either the butterflies, which seem to have taken a great liking to his stomach, or the fact that he has absolutely zero idea of what’s going to happen. Aside from the bubble tea café, he knows nothing, absolutely nothing, and the thought of Sehun possibly surprising him with something else later on makes his heart swell with happiness. Although his happiness is short lived when he’s suddenly hit with the fact that Sehun just simply might not care, or at least not as much as he does. He quickly dismisses the thought of Sehun possibly being as worked up as he is right now - Jongin figures the word ‘nervous’ isn’t in Sehun’s vocabulary, and the thought makes him all that more stressed for reasons he can’t explain.

Jongin grabs the shirt lying on his bed before quickly pulling it over his head. Running back to the bathroom, he inspects himself in the mirror while buttoning the few buttons on his shirt. Spotting Jungah’s hairspray sitting in a basket to his right, Jongin grabs it before proceeding to completely douse his hair in it, making sure his ends are nice and pointy before placing the can back in the basket. Ignoring the fact that majority of him now smells like strawberry shortcake, he looks at himself in the mirror, and he realizes just how much he looks like a mad scientist, just like Baekhyun had said, and he chuckles low in his throat. He made sure to style his hair the way it looked in the photo Sehun had sent him this morning, where the latter also complimented his new hair color. Now, Jongin highly doubts Sehun even remembers; he probably doesn’t, but he’s willing to take the extra step just in case.

Don’t treat it like a date.

Sitting down on his bed, Jongin runs his hand through his hair a couple of times to get the spray to set, and collapses on his back. He lies there, staring up at the ceiling for a good ten minutes while letting his brain process everything up to this point. In less than an hour or so, he’ll be with Sehun; alone with Sehun - no Baekhyun or Jongdae or Chanyeol or Junmyeon anywhere to intrude and screw things up, just him and Sehun in a desolate café. The thought of being alone (he figures there’ll be people in the café, hopefully, but still) with Sehun makes him lightheaded and sends a rush of excitement pumping through his veins but, on the other hand, the thought also makes him very, very worried; mainly because he fears what would possibly happen if one of Sehun’s fangirls were to catch them sitting together, partially alone, talking over a cup of tea. Jongin can see the headlines in front of him; ‘School Football Player Oh Sehun Caught On A Date With Unknown Man’. He shivers. The last thing he wants is for people to catch him and Sehun together and, most horrifyingly, for the latter’s fans to find out and chase him down the hallways the minute he steps foot inside the school building on Monday morning. Jesus Christ. I’d need to switch schools.

He’s in the midst of contemplating whether or not he should hire a personal bodyguard for good measure when his phone suddenly buzzes and the next thing he knows, he’s sitting up like a bullet and scrambling to unlock his phone. A large smile spreads across his face when he sees Sehun’s name at the top of his screen. Jongin hasn’t even read Sehun’s message yet, just the latter’s name alone is enough to reduce Jongin to a grinning mess. Again, if Jongdae were here, he’d definitely call the blond ‘smitten’.

Messenger

From: Oh Sehun, at 5:50 PM

remember the place?? bubbleology?? ~

Jongin chuckles slightly. He isn’t sure if he finds the name that amusing, even, but the fact that solely mentioning it is enough to send Sehun into a (rather adorable, Jongin thinks) fit of chuckles is enough for the blond to find it funny, too. He isn’t sure how that’s supposed to make him feel, in all honesty.

yeah!!! wanna suggest a time?

Pressing ‘Send’, Jongin puts his phone down and lies back down. At some point during his daily Sehun daydream, he, for some odd reason, thinks of the latter playing football. Jongin has never seen Sehun in his football uniform, but he figures he’d look both extremely handsome and extremely hilarious at the same time in his oversized helmet and outfit and whatnot. He’s never seen Sehun play, either, but he figures the latter, running up and down a field while grabbing onto the ball for dear life, would look rather...amusing, to say the least. And adorable, of course. Not that Jongin knows anything about the sport.

One thought leads to another, and before Jongin knows it, he’s in the middle of wondering whether or not Sehun works out. Jongin figures he does, obviously, but he can’t help but wonder exactly what he trains; his calves? His arms? His chest? His abs? Jongin swallows. The mention of abs suddenly triggers his inner Sehun reflex (he still isn’t sure what to call it) and suddenly, images from the day before when he’d accidentally splashed Sehun with his milk after the latter had scared the living daylights out of him pop into his mind, seemingly on cue. Damn it.

Quickly shoving any inappropriate Sehun thoughts to the back of his mind, and praying to God they’ll stay there at least until after the meetup, Jongin swallows before clearing his throat and looking around his room. He’s definitely in no mood to clean up, that’s for sure, so he opts to play a game on his phone. He blinks when he turns his phone on and is greeted with-

Messenger

From: Oh Sehun, at 5:55 PM

does 6:20 work for you?? it takes me a while to get there hehe

do you need the directions by the way??~

Jongin blinks. Did I seriously miss the sound of my phone buzzing because I was too caught up with thinking about his goddamn abs? he thinks and drags a hand down his face, a blush creeping up his neck and dusting his cheeks a light shade of pink. He’s extremely thankful for himself for kicking Jongdae and Baekhyun out earlier since he knows they’d both to hell and back for it.

yeah sure, it works!!! and same x)

i think i’ll manage, but thanks anyway! :3

After sending the message, Jongin opens up his Safari app and quickly types ‘Bubbleology’ into the search bar. He clicks on the first search result and is amazed to find out that said place is only two blocks away from his school. In fact, he thinks he’ll make it there in 10 minutes by bus if he leaves the house in five minutes. He figures he’ll arrive a tad bit too early but alas, it’ll give him plenty of time to mentally prepare.

Don’t treat it like a date, Jongin thinks to himself as he walks down the stairs. He figures his parents aren’t at home, and Jungah; he figures she’s over at a friend’s hou-

“Where are you going? Jo- Oh my God, what in Heaven’s name have you done to your hair?!”

Jongin spins around and grips his chest in surprise. “Don’t ing scare me like that,” he breathes and bats her hands away when she proceeds to ruffle his hair. “Don’t touch it!”

“When on Earth did you do this? Why the heck-” she asks, perplexed, staring at the blond’s hair like it’s the eighth wonder of the world. “Do Mom and Dad know about this?” she adds and grimaces upon realizing her entire hands are sticky. “Ech. Hey, wait.” She brings her hand to her face and takes a whiff. “Is...is this my hairspray?”

Biting his lip, Jongin shrugs, avoiding her gaze. “It was like, half full, I figured-”

“No seriously, do Mom and Dad know you dyed your hair to the color of donut powder?” she asks, seemingly more interested in Jongin’s hair than the latter stealing her beauty products. Thankfully. “Who did this?” she asks, reaching for Jongin’s hair again, only for the latter to lean away.

Jongin rolls his eyes, biting his lip impatiently. He’d much rather not have to message Sehun later saying he’ll be late by half an hour as a result of his sister nagging him so much he missed the bus and had to wait twenty minutes for the next one. “Baek suggested it, and no, they don’t know,” he says, running a hand through his hair to ensure it’s still as messy as he likes it. “I’ve got a bus to catch, so-”

“Dad’ll blow every capillary in his body when he sees you!” Jungah exclaims, her loud voice doing absolutely nothing to soothe Jongin’s nerves. “At least text him a picture and save him a heart attack, would you?”

“Okay,” Jongin says in exasperation. “I promise I’ll do it on the bus. Now, please-”

“Why’re you all dressed up? Hold on, are you wearing makeup?” Jungah asks, a grin spreading across her face when she leans in closer. “And is that Dad’s perfume?” she adds, wrinkling her nose at the strong odor and following Jongin into the hallway, much to the latter’s annoyance.

Once he’s in the hallway, Jongin grabs his shoes (he’s thankful that he found the time to polish them last week; he figures a pair of unkept, dirty shoes won’t sit well with Sehun) and proceeds to put them on. “Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he mumbles and hisses in pain when his thumb accidentally gets caught between his ankle and the back of his shoe. He inwardly groans when he hears her chuckle. “I’m serious.”

“I’ve never seen you wear makeup before, like, ever,” Jungah chuckles, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms over her chest. She keeps her eyes locked on Jongin as the latter ties his shoes. “So you’re wearing makeup, Dad’s most expensive perfume, my strawberry scented hairspray, your fanciest shirt and newly polished shoes?” she hums, placing her index finger and thumb under her chin. She stands there for a while before she emits a loud gasp. “Oh my God-”

“Jungah, please-”

“-you’re going on a date!” Jungah exclaims in excitement, clapping her hands together. “Is this like, your first date ever? What’s his name?” she asks and Jongin mentally facepalms and braces himself for the endless sea of questions she’s only seconds away from bombarding him with. “Is he handsome? Where are you going?”

Tying the last knot, Jongin huffs before standing up. My God. “Yes,” he mumbles before reaching up and grabbing his jacket from its hanger. “And you know his name,” he adds before putting it on and quickly zipping it shut. He intentionally avoids answering her question about Sehun’s handsomeness because honestly, his bus leaves in less than five minutes and he’d rather prefer not to stay back for three hours and thus miss the meetup. “And we’re going to this bubble tea place he knows.”

“I do?” Jungah blinks. “Oh! Is it Sehun?” she asks and grins when Jongin nods ever so slowly. She watches as the blond stands in front of the mirror and inspects his reflection for a couple of minutes. “Jongin, you look fine, don’t worry. Your hair’s a tad bit too wild-looking for my taste but I’m sure your boyfriend’ll like it!”

“First of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” Jongin grits through his teeth, running his index finger over his eyebrows to even out the strands. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know why he’s doing it. “And it’s not a date.” He swallows a bit before leaning in and carefully inspecting his concealer, seriously hoping it hasn’t already oxidized.

Jungah raises an eyebrow. “Not a date? Then why’re you all dressed to impress?”

“I don’t know,” Jongin sighs, slightly rubbing at his under eyes. He stands and stares his reflection square in the eye before biting his lip. “In all honesty, I don’t even know what to call it. I don’t even know if he likes me back; hell, I don’t even know if he’s into guys or not. I mean look, the thing is, he’s really popular and I just, I don’t know, I’m a little hesitant, y’know, since, well, why would he agree to go out with me, to a café when he could be doing literally anything else? I’m not saying he hates me, but like, why me, of all people? I think I’m overreacting, y’know, overanalyzing everything but I...don’t know. I mean, he’s super popular and he’s friends with literally everybody and every week there’s a new rumor about him dating another girl; speaking of girls, I’m still not sure if he’s got a girlfriend or not. I mean, I saw him accepting some random girl’s number yesterday and I’m not sure if he’s called her yet? Like, I’ve been thinking lately, maybe he’s just doing it to be nice? I mean, compared to his -y and douchebag friends, he’s actually really frigging kind and thoughtful, so I keep thinking if he’s only agreeing to this whole thing simply because I initiated it in the first place, you know? Because he only likes me as a friend, you know? Like, he constantly has girls following him and he doesn’t seem like he’s willing to shake them off, I mean , his phone’s probably overflowing with different girls’ numbers for all I know. Why would he choose to meet up with me, of all people? We’ve known each other for less  than a week, Jungah, it just...doesn’t make sense.” He promptly stops to take a breath of much needed air while he processes his own words. It’s not until he does so that his eyes widen and he slaps a hand on his forehead. “Sorry, Jesus, I don’t know what- damn it, sorry.” He’s about to turn around and open the door when Jungah speaks up.

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know,” she says, staring at Jongin with a, surprisingly, sympathetic gaze. “I mean, it’s okay to admit that you’re worried and or unsure, heck, I’d be, too, in your situation. I don’t know the guy at all but the fact that he said yes to meeting you despite very recently befriending you should say something, don’t you think? Just take it step by step and I’m sure everything’ll go smoothly, okay?” she adds, smiling a tad bit.

Jongin blinks. He isn’t sure if it’s his mind playing tricks on him or if it’s the dim lights in the hallway that make Jungah look so much older, but he can’t help but think that the latter suddenly looks significantly more mature; her arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows furrowed in concentration, all traces of her usual immaturity gone. It’s a sight he’s never seen before and he swallows. “I’m uh, not nervous, but uh, thanks anyway, I guess,” he mumbles, subconsciously running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t know if he should feel comforted or annoyed when she speaks again.

“Yes, you are.”

Jongin blinks again. “Uh,” he murmurs, inching closer and closer to the door. “What are you ta-”

“You are nervous.”

Swallowing, Jongin places a hand on the door handle, eager to throw the door open and run to the bus stop. “What makes you th-”

“Duh,” Jungah says, a hint of...sadness? relief? Jongin isn’t quite sure, in her voice. “You’re talking to me.”

Ignoring the unidentifiable spark that ignites in his chest, Jongin bites his lip before nodding slowly. Not knowing what to say, he zips his jacket, again, and grabs the door handle. He’s seconds away from pushing it down when Jungah speaks again.

“Again, I don’t know Sehun, but knowing you, I highly doubt you’d ever fall for a psychopathic douchebag, so I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that he’s worth it,” she says, chuckling low in , voice laced with an underlying sincerity. “Just...act casual and whatever happens, happens. Try taking everything minute by minute and don’t let your nerves get in the way of how you really feel. You’ll have learned his true feelings before you come home tonight.”

Jongin only mumbles a low ‘thanks, see you later’ before opening the door and shutting it behind him.

6:23 PM

Jongin doesn’t think he’s ever felt so nervous in his entire life.

Standing outside the café (it’s the right adress, he’s triple checked), he bounces back and forth on his feet, both out of anxiousness and the fact that it’s extremely cold out, as he contemplates what to do next. He checks his phone and sees that it’s three minutes past one, he’s early; earlier than Sehun, which he honestly didn’t think would happen, but he figures the latter simply got stuck in traffic. Or so Jongin hopes. He unconsciously swallows.

He looks up at the sign hanging mere inches above his head; the word ‘Bubbleology’ printed in bright, neon colors and a rather childish looking font. He can’t see much of the café’s interior given that it’s already beginning to get dark out. Scanning his surroundings, only to find nobody (or nobody closely resembling Sehun for that matter), he bites his lip and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, although he removes his right hand almost immediately to run it through his hair. Not that he thinks it’s gotten too flat, he simply does it out of (nervous) habit at this point. His hair isn’t as soft to the touch anymore and he curses Jungah’s godforsaken hairspray before wiping the excess spray on his jeans while also cursing himself for not choosing to bring his concealer with him since he’s at least a hundred percent sure his eye makeup has oxidized by now.

Two girls, whom both closely resemble his sister, walk towards him in a fit of giggles and Jongin, not knowing what or who to stare at at this point, chooses to lazily fixate his gaze on the brunette, the slightly shorter and older looking one, while he leans against the wall. Despite not being particularly interested in clothes (or fashion in general for that matter), he can’t help but find himself slightly fascinated by certain attires; the brunette’s being an example. He figures it’s one of the inevitable side effects of growing up with a younger sister.

Upon closer inspection, Jongin notices that the brunette is wearing a pair of fishnet stockings that he’s certain Jungah also owns, and has worn at some point, much to their mother’s horror, and upon even closer inspection, he also notices that her stockings have a rather noticeable tear in them and he fights the urge to chuckle. How are girls so incredibly capable of spending hours in front of the mirror to achieve the perfect look yet at the same time, so awfully incapable of checking to at least make sure their clothes aren’t full of holes?

The blonde girl, the thinner and taller one, seems to notice his staring and she shoots him a dirty look before, to Jongin’s surprise, walking over and right up to him.

“Hey, quit staring, creep,” she says, loudly, way too loudly, before giving Jongin a slight shove. “Is that what freaks like you do in your spare time? Hang out in secluded alleyways and gawk at women half your age?” she adds, her frown seemingly permanent.

Jongin blinks. The is going on. “Uh,” he starts, scratching the back of his head. “I wasn’t staring.” He clears his throat before looking down at the ground, desperately hoping that they’ll take it as their cue to leave him alone but, inevitably, they don’t.

“As if, I saw you,” the blonde snaps and Jongin fights the urge to cover his ears. “Why don’t you go ogle women your own age?”

“Uh, own age?” Jongin says dumbly before sighing inwardly. The blonde is still staring at him with a hostile look and he fights the urge to slap the scowl off of her face. And people wonder why he doesn’t bother with females. “Look, could you-”

The brunette, whose got quite a soft look in her eyes, a contrast to her friend’s, suddenly places a hand on the blonde’s arm before shooting Jongin a look that the latter can only interpret as apologetic. “Sorry. Hey, you got a lighter on you?”

Running a hand through his hair, again, Jongin sighs before shaking his head. “No, sorry,” he says, taking a step back when the blonde shoots him a less than friendly look. “I don’t smoke.” He bites his lip. Where on Earth is he, he thinks, fighting the urge to pull out his phone and message Sehun about the latter's whereabouts but decides against it for obvious reasons.

“What are you doing here, anyway, love?” the brunette asks, seemingly more interested in initiating a conversation then her friend, who looks more than eager to leave. “I mean, at seven, all by yourself,” she adds before smirking slightly. “Is the gentleman waiting for his dame?”

Jongin blinks, a rush of uncomfort overwhelming him. He doesn’t know if it’s due to the situation in general or the unexpected pet name. “Uh, just...waiting for somebody, yeah,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Look, could you two just-”

“Is the gentleman’s dame aware of the fact that her man spends his time ogling underaged girls?” Jongin hears the blonde mumble under her breath and he fights the urge to strike her clear across the face but quickly decides not to since he’d rather prefer not to end up with his hand covered in three inches of makeup. He opts to bite his lip in irritation while avoiding both their gazes. It’s not until the brunette takes a step towards him, so that there’s only an inch of space between them, that he visibly swallows. “What the-”

“Do I smell like smoke, love?” she asks, turning her face to the right and giving Jongin a full view of her pale neck. When the latter only stands nailed to the ground, she giggles. “I’m meeting up with my boyfriend in a little bit, need to make sure I don’t smell like smoke since he hates it,” she adds, gesturing for Jongin to lean in and check.

Wondering what on Earth he did to deserve ending up in this situation, Jongin is about to open his mouth and blurt out a loud and clear ‘no ing way’, but quickly swallows his words when he averts his gaze and sees the blonde’s stare of ‘do it, or else’. . Inwardly cursing everything and everyone, he wordlessly leans in, ever so slowly, closer to the brunette's neck, careful to avoid bumping his nose against her many, many pearl necklaces and chokers (in fact, she’s got so many necklaces hanging around her neck that it’s nearly impossible for Jongin to access her neck. Not that he’d like to, anyway.). Making sure to keep his face at a three inch distance, and ignoring the way her long, frizzy hair tickles his forehead, he clenches his jaw before inhaling and nearly gags when he feels his lungs fill with perfume sweet enough to make his eyes water. He does his best to play it cool on the outside, though. He’s seconds away from leaning away when he feels a hand; her hand, slightly caress the back of his head and he recoils like he’s been burned, barely managing a small smile (all white hoping his eyes don’t look too shiny and panic-stricken).  “No smoke, you’re all good to go.”

“Who’s your barber, love?” she cackles, seemingly ignoring Jongin’s comment, and Jongin doesn’t even need to ask her what on Earth she’s talking about to know that she’s referring to his hair, which is most definitely stiff to the roots by now. Again, he curses Jungah’s hairspray.

Shrugging, Jongin instinctively runs a hand through his hair. He’s both thankful and terrified that the alleyway they’re currently standing in is deserted, since he’d preferably not want people to walk by and witness him, a grown man, smelling some random woman he’d just met less than five minutes ago (although Jongin feels like they’ve been standing here for hours). Not to mention he’s eternally thankful for the fact that Sehun of all people isn’t around to witness it since Jongin figures he’d have no way of explaining it. But on the other hand, he wishes there were people everywhere because he seriously wishes somebody would come by and put him out of his misery. “I, uh, why do you ca-”

“I’m just joking, honey,” she cackles again, her laughter echoing down the narrow alleyway, and Jongin actually does cover his ears, which only makes her laugh even harder, and louder. “I’m just joking, no need to do that,” she adds before reaching out and lightly grabbing Jongin’s wrist, making the latter flinch. “Hey, listen, love, when do you think your dame will arrive?”

Jongin blinks, eyes wide. She had better arrive real ing soon, he thinks. If the brunette's friend wasn’t currently, whether intentionally or unintentionally, blocking the door to the café, he’d rush inside and file a restraining order in a heartbeat. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“Great, then you’ll join us for a drink, hm?” she says, letting go of Jongin’s wrist. She only chuckles when she sees the blond’s petrified expression. “You’ll be back here before you know it, love, don’t worry! Now shall we?” she giggles, gesturing for Jongin to link his arm together with hers. The latter nearly cries.

ing hell. “I’m sorry, but no thanks,” Jongin says, taking a step back. He swallows when the blonde’s gaze turns even more hostile, if that’s even possible, and the brunette her head to the side. “No seriously,” he adds, scratching the back of his head, suddenly feeling a lot like a deer caught in headlights, “I can’t, I’m...uh, underage.”

“That’s fine, so are we,” the brunette says casually. “Wait, how old are you, love?” she asks, eyeing Jongin up and down and the latter fights the urge to turn around and vomit into the nearest sewer.

“Fifteen,” Jongin lies, hoping she’ll accept it and leave him alone. She, inevitably, doesn’t, though, much to his irritation.

“You look at least 25,” she giggles before grabbing Jongin’s arm, rather tightly, “so no ID is fine, where we’re going they go by looks, anyway, so no need to worry!”

Trying his best to pull away, Jongin shakes his head again. Despite being at least eight inches taller than both of them, he feels so awfully tiny, and he doesn’t know if it’s due to their determination and persistence, or simply the humiliation that’s currently coursing through every vein in his body. He suddenly regrets ever sparing the brunette and her gowawful, ripped fishnet stockings a single glance and he successfully manages to pry his arm out of the latter’s death grip and hisses when her long fingernails dig into his hand. “Sorry, but I’m gonna stay right here. You two enjoy your evening, though,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t shake too much. He instinctively gulps when both the brunette and the blonde shoot him...questioning looks. He seriously hopes his knees don’t give out underneath him. That’d be so, so embarrassing.

“Fine,” she says after a while and Jongin nearly collapses in relief. “But, on one condition,” she adds and Jongin fights the urge to scream. She digs around in her purse for a while before pulling out her phone. She unlocks it and proceeds to open up what Jongin assumes is her Contacts app before shooting Jongin an expectant yet determined look.

Jongin bites his lip as he stares at the phone in her hand like it’s a bomb that’s about to go off. “Um.”

“Your number,” she says, a hint of stubbornness in her voice, before ing the phone in his hands. “And don’t you dare rip me off, love.”

Jongin suddenly feels like Sehun and it nearly makes him chuckle. How on Earth does he enjoy doing this on the daily? he thinks before sighing inwardly. He doesn’t know if it’s the girls’ piercing stares (that are the beginning to burn holes in his body) or the strong, overall urge to escape his current situation and get them both out of his sight at all costs that makes him do it, but before he knows it, he’s pressing the ‘Add New Contact’ symbol and he stares blankly at the keypad that shows up on the screen. As much as he’d rather not give out his number to a random stranger, whom he detests with a burning passion, he figures he’d rather do that than head off to a bar with them and do God knows what, any day. The thought nearly makes him shudder. Not to mention I can always block her afterwards.

He’s seconds away from pressing the first digit to his phone number when he spots something, no, someone, in the corner of his eye to his left, and he nearly collapses in both relief and dread.

~~~