~~~

Jongin steps aside just as Sehun comes into view, the brunette’s phone still in his hands as he watches Sehun stride towards them. The latter walks with an air of confidence surrounding him, of course, and Jongin’s jaw nearly hits the floor when he sees Sehun’s attire; a navy blue sweater clings to his (very, very defined) torso, his legs sport a pair of classy, black jeans and he’s got two silver watches wrapped around his left wrist and the blond thinks he looks like he arrived from the runway. He really does light up the dark. Jongin thanks his lucky stars he didn’t choose to wear his hoodie earlier or else he would’ve been severely underdressed. He’s instantly out of his trance when he hears Sehun speak, his deep voice never failing to make Jongin shudder.

“Sorry, my bus took forever to arrive, I had to wait at the stop for a while,” Sehun says, running a hand through his hair before moving to stand next to Jongin. His gaze travels up and lands on the blonde and the brunette, who stare at him as if they’ve just laid their eyes on the eighth wonder of the world. Jongin bites his lip in irritation. “Who’s this?”

Swallowing, Jongin wants to say ‘Nobody, let’s go’, but all he manages to croak out is ‘I don’t know’, and he curses himself. Moron. Ignoring the way his body tenses up at how close Sehun is standing, he clears his throat and instinctively inches closer to the latter. It’s not until he looks up and notices Sehun’s fixated stare on the blonde (Baek sure was right about him fancying blondes, he thinks to himself) that his stomach churns uncomfortably. His fingers itch to grab onto Sehun’s hand and interlock their fingers but quickly decides not for obvious reasons. He even blushes a little at the thought.

Jongin doesn’t know if it’s his confused expression or his overall silence that causes what happens next, because before he knows it, Sehun grabs the phone out of his stiff hands and proceeds to type in a series of numbers on the screen. Presumably his own number, Jongin thinks to himself and he tries his best to squash the feeling of utter agony that seeps into his system when he sees Sehun press ‘Save Contact’, followed by the latter wordlessly handing the phone back to the brunette, who accepts it with a disgustingly wide grin.

“Here’s my number, call me instead,” Sehun says simply before placing a hand on Jongin’s back (the latter ignores the electric shock that travels down his spine at the touch and he prays to God it doesn’t electrocute Sehun) and ushering him towards the door, all while ignoring the brunette’s excited squee of ‘I wanted your number more than his, anyway! You’re so much more handsome!’. Jongin doesn’t know if he should feel thankful or pissed off. He settles for both.

When Sehun opens the pink door to the café, Jongin blinks when a blast of warm air, which, delightfully, smells like a mixture of chocolate and strawberry, hits him right in the face and he quickly steps aside and lets Sehun pass by. He watches as Sehun, who seems to be in a hurry, much to the blond’s confusion, proceeds to sit down at a table for two, on a light blue chair, before shooting Jongin a smile and beckoning for him to take his own seat. Honestly, Jongin doesn’t think he won’t smile whenever Sehun smiles at him.

The café is relatively empty, save for the two women behind the cashier as well as an old man sitting by himself in the far right corner as well as a teenage girl on her laptop a few seats away. The place itself is quite nice, Jongin realizes after he takes a seat, on a pink chair, especially given that the walls are painted a welcoming shade of baby blue and baby pink, as well as the fact that there are bubble tea stickers littering every wall in the room, including the ceiling. Shelves of empty bubble tea cups line the walls and a flower pot sits on the windowsill of each window, and the sight makes Jongin’s lips curl upwards. Not to mention his favorite song is blaring through the speakers in the corners and he resists the urge to stand up and dance along to the beat.

While Jongin admits his surroundings certainly are gorgeous indeed, he won’t deny that nothing beats the sight before him in terms of gorgeousness, which is Sehun, who is sitting across from him, legs crossed and hands in his lap as his eyes roam around the room, a curious look in his eyes. Navy blue is so incredibly fitting on him and really brings out the color of his eyes, Jongin thinks. Sehun’s hair is, as always, styled perfectly, every strand seems to have been carefully styled with great amounts of care and Jongin nearly chuckles. Sehun’s eyebrows seem to be carefully styled, too, and Jongin wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out Sehun gets them done at some sort of spa every month. The latter’s posture is startlingly perfect and Jongin finds himself subconsciously sitting up a little straighter in his chair for reasons unknown.

In all honesty, Jongin still hasn’t properly processed the fact that Oh Sehun is sitting across from him, at the same table, right here, right now. As a matter of fact, the blond almost finds it incredibly strange seeing Sehun outside the school, at a café, like this; where he’s not being ogled at by every single female in existence, or ogling females for that matter. As comical as it sounds, Jongin almost thinks he’s staring at a whole different person. Either way, the image of Sehun sitting in a café less than three feet away, looking as perfect and stylish as ever, will most likely never leave Jongin’s mind. Not that he minds, anyway. In fact, he hopes to God that the image burns into his brain and stays there for good.

“Oh Sehun, charmed.”

Jongin blinks, returning to the reality that is Sehun, ten inches from his face, with his hand extended in front of him. It takes him a full minute to even process the fact that Sehun is talking to him and he feels himself blush before scrambling to grab onto the latter’s hand at lightning speed. Although he seriously wishes he’d done so a tad bit slower, because the shock of electricity that explodes in his head and shoots down his spine the very moment his shaking hand comes in contact with Sehun’s firm one is enough to make him feel lightheaded. “K-Kim Jongin.”

Sehun’s hand is warm, surprisingly warm given the ice cold weather, and so incredibly firm clasped around Jongin’s rather shaky one and for a moment the latter worries he’ll suddenly flinch and end up crushing Sehun’s hand by mistake so he loosens his grip ever so slightly, just in case. Even though the gesture is so simple and so brief, Jongin wishes he could preserve the moment and feeling forever and play it on loop on his head. He wonders how many people, or, more specifically, girls, have had the honor of getting to touch Sehun’s hand before him and his stomach coils painfully.

“You can let go of my hand now.”

Raising an eyebrow and promptly zoning back in, Jongin blinks and is seconds away from asking Sehun what he means when his eyes travel down. . A feeling of warmth explodes in both his chest and face when he manages to fully process that’s still holding onto Sehun’s hand, after God knows how long, and he recoils like he’s been burned, all while spewing a string of incoherent ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘Oh my God’s. Fighting the urge to bury his face in his hands, Jongin honestly doesn’t know if he should feel happy or downright horrified when he hears Sehun emit an indiscreet, but still charming, nonetheless, chuckle from across the table. God damn everything.

Biting his lip, Jongin does his best to regain his composure before mustering the courage to look at Sehun and fights back the blush that threatens to creep up his neck and spread across his face when he locks eyes with the latter, his confident and sharp gaze seemingly tearing right into the blond, and Jongin fights the urge to turn his face away. He’s awfully glad he chose to wear (waterproof) makeup since he already feels himself starting to grow hot under the collar. After a few seconds of inhaling and exhaling, he finally (somehow) and successfully manages to look at Sehun. “Why uh, why are we,” he mumbles and nearly jumps out of his own skin when Sehun’s long limbs suddenly bump against his own. Again, the latter lets out another one of his chuckles that Jongin has grown to love. “Why are we uh, introducing ourselves?”

Sehun shrugs casually before sliding deeper into his seat and shooting Jongin a smirk. “Well, I figured we hadn’t been formally introduced yet,” he says simply and chuckles when Jongin proceeds to (subconsciously, of course) play with his hair. “Again, I like the color!”

Jongin stops himself from accidentally blurting out ‘Oh my God, thank you’ in the nick of time and he clears his throat. “Thanks,” he says, running a hand through it. “It was actually Baek’s idea, I didn’t really know two to feel about it at first but I’ve grown used to it over time,” he adds and bites his lip when Sehun furrows his eyebrows.

“Baek?” Sehun repeats in confusion and Jongin mentally slaps himself. “Who’s he?” His eyes suddenly flash and he smiles a little. “Lemme guess, your redheaded companion?”

Jongin blinks before nodding ecstatically, maybe a little too ecstatically. “That makes him sound like a dog,” he snorts. Which in all honesty, wouldn’t be far from the truth, but Jongin decides to keep that to himself. “But yeah, him. How’d you know?” he asks and blushes again when Sehun sits up straighter in his chair, only for their limbs to rub against each other a second time (despite keeping his cool on the outside, the butterflies in Jongin’s stomach go absolutely ecstatic each time).

“I’ve seen you three around,” Sehun chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. He suddenly looks up and shoots Jongin a smirk, to which the latter replies with a rather indiscreet blush. “Want some tea?”

“Sure,” Jongin says and a wave of worry washes over him and he prays to God his legs won’t give in underneath him when he stands up to walk to the counter. He shudders a little at the thought because falling flat on his face in front of Sehun is most definitely not how he wants the latter to remember him. However, his worries soon subside when Sehun gets out of his chair and proceeds to walk towards the counter. Jongin finds himself perplexed as he takes in Sehun’s form; the latter has a perfect build and the blond lets his eyes trail over Sehun’s broad shoulders; which are so broad you could land a plane on his back, his slim yet defined torso and his legs which seem to go on forever. Jongin remembers how often he had checked Sehun out all those years ago at school and while he most definitely felt the same feeling coil in his gut at the sight even back then, seeing it up close like this, overwhelms him to the point that he almost forces himself to tear his gaze away.

At first, Jongin breathes out a dreamy sigh of happiness but said happiness soon turns to worry and...jealousy? when he sees just how easily conversation seems to flow between Sehun and the two women behind the counter. He tries telling himself it’s their job, after all, but the feeling never really leaves his stomach and he forces himself to look away and fixate his gaze on a sticker on the wall. He’s perfectly aware of the painful reality that is Sehun being awfully popular with women, not to mention the latter seems to have a certain aura to him that seems to make the female gender gravitate towards him no matter the circumstances, but even so, Jongin doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the painful feeling that settles in his chest at both the thought and the sight.

Jongin snaps out his trance just in time to hear Sehun say ‘thank you’ before the latter turns around and walks back to their table, two large cups in hand. Jongin’s stomach growls at the sight and he’s suddenly reminded of the fact that he hasn’t eaten since yesterday’s breakfast, which makes his stomach growl again, even louder this time. He prays to God Sehun doesn’t hear it.

“There you go,” Sehun says, placing the pink colored mug inches from Jongin’s face and the latter sits up, a grin spreading across his entire face.

With an excited squeal of ‘thanks’, Jongin quickly proceeds to wrap his lips around the pink straw. The tea is thick and quite creamy to the texture and he shudders slightly when the cold liquid hits the back of his throat. He can feel Sehun’s gaze on him while he drinks and he fights the urge to cover his face with his hands.

“Well then, what did you think?” Sehun asks, sipping his own (brown) tea, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when Jongin suddenly hiccups, causing the latter to choke on his drink. “Jesus, don’t drink so fast,” he squawks before handing the blond a napkin. “Anyway, any first impressions?”

Scrambling for the napkin, Jongin grabs it before proceeding to wipe the lower half of his face with it. “It’s super tasty,” he says and moans in disgust when he feels a drop of tea trickle down his chin. “What did you think? Is it your first time trying this?” he asks and mentally slaps himself. Go easy on the questions, don’t wanna scare him off.

Sehun shakes his head. “Nope, I drink this stuff all the time,” he says sheepishly before bringing the straw to his lips again. Jongin stares in awe. The fact that Sehun can sit there and sip pink tea out of a pink straw and still manage to look as sharp as ever is utterly mind blowing, at least to him. “I’m glad you like it, though,” he adds, gently placing his cup on the table and putting his hands in his lap. He raises an eyebrow in amusement when Jongin stifles a laugh. “Hm?”

Swallowing his mouthful of tea, Jongin grins before scratching the back of his head. “Uh, nothing, sorry,” he mumbles, mentally slapping himself in the face. He clears his throat when he looks up and sees Sehun’s disbelieving gaze. “Nothing, it’s just uh, this, um, it feels kinda...how do I put it, weird?” he says sheepishly.

Sehun raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Weird?” he asks and Jongin nearly sighs at the sound of his voice. It’s so deep yet so awfully melodic. “What do you mean?”

How the does he manage to look and sound so goddamn confident and polite all the time, seriously. “Um,” Jongin starts, biting his lip and avoiding Sehun’s gaze. “It’s just that, you know, uh. I’m not, well, used to seeing you, you know...without your uh.” He swallows, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious. “Fans around.” When Sehun doesn’t say anything, he flails his hands and arms in the air, nearly knocking his cup over. “Sorry, Jesus Christ, that was weird, I’m sorry-”

“My fans?” Sehun asks, his voice as calm as ever, cocking his head to the right, confused but obviously fascinated. His eyes seemingly flash and he nods slowly. “Oh, you mean-”

“Yeah!” Jongin exclaims, sipping his tea. “Like, I was scared to even come here earlier since I thought I’d need a bodyguard or something, seriously! I mean, I was afraid some of your fans had found out we were gonna be here and that they’d hide in some dark alleyway and pounce on me and attack me and whatnot. Honestly, I was this close to wearing a disguise!” he adds, pressing his thumb and index finger together before taking another sip. He blinks in surprise when he sees he’s already finished half the cup.

“I’m not a celebrity, Jongin,” Sehun chuckles, although even Jongin can sense a strong hint of seriousness in his voice, before sipping his tea. He sighs when the blond shoots him a disbelieving look. “I know, it’s hard to believe,” he says, shrugging. “And I get that. But then again, I’m just a regular guy in 12th grade who’s getting through school without any problems. Or, trying to, that is,” he adds with a humorless laugh.

Jongin rests his head on his hand and his head sideways. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, pouting slightly, while tracing invisible patterns into the tablecloth, “it looks fun and I wanna try it, to see what it’s like.” He blinks when Sehun nearly chokes on his drink, again.

“You take that back,” Sehun says sternly, but there’s no bite in his voice at all, much to Jongin’s relief. “Okay, no but seriously,” he chuckles when he sees Jongin’s horrified expression. “You don’t wanna ‘try it’, even if it’s just for a day. It , I’m telling you.”

Eyes widening slightly, Jongin hums something in reply. “Why not? I mean, it’s not like I’m a nobody or anything myself, it’s just that, you know, the idea of people looking up to you and appreciating you so much seems so exciting,” he says, blowing bubbles into his tea, earning him annoyed looks - especially from the old man a few feet away. He’s so focused on blowing bubbles that he misses Sehun’s adoring gaze.

“I mean, I definitely understand why people would- oh for God’s sake,” Sehun huffs before reaching across the table and grabbing Jongin’s cup when the latter blows into his straw so hard a couple of drops of tea come flying out and land on the table. He shakes his head with a low chuckle when Jongin attempts to reach for it with no success. “Nope, sorry.”

“Gimme that,” Jongin exclaims, voice almost a whine, as he attempts to grab his cup, only for Sehun to hold it higher above his head. He sits back down with a pout before crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine, you can keep it, but don’t you dare drink it,” he huffs.

“What if I do?” Sehun half jokingly asks before proceeding to bring the straw to Jongin’s cup to his lips. Wrapping his lips around said straw, he chuckles when he hears the blond squawk across from him. “Man, I’ve never had the strawberry one before,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Not bad, I should order it next time.”

“Gimme that,” Jongin whines with a huff. It’s not until he, with full sincerity, threatens to dump half the contents of a salt shaker in Sehun’s tea that the latter quickly hands his cup back and the blond gleefully accepts it before going back to blowing bubbles in his drink. “Anyway, what were you saying?”

Sehun watches in awe as Jongin blows bubbles into his tea and clears his throat in order to prevent himself from zoning out. “It’s no walk in the park, really,” he starts, adjusting his collar. “I mean, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that I love the sport more than anything, I would’ve quit a long, long time ago.” He chuckles when he sees Jongin staring at him with a wide eyed look, lips still wrapped around his straw. “Do you know what it’s like, needing to check behind you every time you walk to the bathroom to assure yourself you aren’t being followed? That, or to have pictures taken of you while you’re trying to eat your food in the cafeteria? Not to mention needing to untag yourself from them afterwards, which takes a while. Hey, even better, needing to put up with constant rumors about you dating someone you don’t know at all, on the daily? Sheesh, I think I have well over 200,000 girlfriends so far.”

Jongin blinks. Dae was definitely correct about him disliking the attention, that’s for sure. Ignoring the way his chest coils at the word ‘girlfriends’, he pouts. “But they appreciate you!” he blurts out and nearly slaps himself for real (he blames it on the brain freeze preventing him from properly processing his words). He nearly chokes on his tea when Sehun suddenly lets out a loud cackle-like noise, and he’s extremely thankful the latter wasn’t drinking at the moment since Jongin is at least 100% sure he’d end up with a face full of Sehun’s tea. Ech.

Mouthing a low ‘sorry’ to the old man, who looks like he’s seconds away from standing up and whacking him in the head, Sehun emits another cackle before shaking his head. “My God, you’re so naive,” he mumbles before shooting Jongin a smile. “Don’t take it to heart, though, I don’t blame you; it’s just that I don’t know how many times I’ve heard people say that. Anyway, yeah, no, I know it may seem like appreciation, but dear God, it’s not, trust me.”

“Why not? I mean, doesn’t it feel good knowing people love you?” Jongin asks, chewing on his straw. The question makes him feel rather deflated on the inside but he quickly squashes the feeling. “Like, if people came up to me 24/7 and told me how much they like me and how handsome I am, I’d feel pretty good, just saying,” he adds, resuming his bubble blowing.

Sehun scratches the back of his head. “It was pretty cool at first; I couldn’t believe so many people apparently looked up to me simply because I joined the football team, but that was back in like, 10th grade and way before I knew about the idiotic misconceptions linked to football players and whatnot. That was also a year before our first win, and things haven’t really been the same since then, to be frank. I mean, I love the sport and my teammates but then again, like I said, having your pictures taken without your consent and bras thrown at you while trying to get to class and having your personal space invaded wherever you go kinda makes you wonder why you even bother, y’know? Like, coming up to someone and simply telling them you think they’re talented and handsome and leaving it at that is one thing, however, treating them like an exotic zoo animal is a whole ‘nother matter. But then again, I love the sport so I guess I’ll be needing to put up with it for a while.”

“...It still seems like fun,” is all Jongin says, blowing bubbles in his tea. He could honestly listen to Sehun talk for hours on end and never get bored. He furrows his eyebrows and looks up, trying not to blush when he (accidentally) locks gazes with Sehun. “What, uh, do you have against people calling you handsome, though?”

“Nothing,” Sehun chuckles. “It’s just that, well, when it’s said to you every single day for years on end, it gets tiring and a bit redundant. But now that I think about it, it is nice. It’s just that,-” He stops mid sentence and clears his throat. “Nothing,” he says after a while, shooting Jongin a smile. “Anyway-”

“No, tell me!” Jongin exclaims, a bit too loudly, practically practically bouncing in his seat. “It’s just that what?”

Sehun bites his lip. Looking past Jongin’s shoulder, he shrugs a little. “You know what they say about football players, right?”

Jongin nods, eyes wide in curiosity, still chewing on his straw. Sehun thinks he looks adorable. “That you’re all rude, arrogant, womanizing jocks?” he blurts out before he can stop himself. Way to make a good first impression, doofus. “Jesus, I don’t know why I- sorry-”

“Spot on,” Sehun laughs before his voice turns serious. “Yeah, but like, regardless of what anyone says, it’s not a walk in the park and it’s because of two types of people,” he says, leaning in and making sure he’s got Jongin’s attention before continuing. “The ones that love too much,” he starts, putting his index finger in the air, “and the ones that should learn to love,” he concludes, putting up another finger.

Jongin only stares dumbly. “...Huh?”

“Basically, we have the freaks who think they’re appreciating us by invading our personal space and solely limiting their ‘attraction’ to our physical appearance and nothing else,” Sehun says, chuckling a little, “and then we have the ignorant fools who think we’re all arrogant, jockey, conceited blowhards who avoid us at all possible costs simply because we happen to play and take a liking to a certain sport.” He stares at Jongin with an expectant gaze. “Get it now?” he chuckles, leaning back and taking a sip of his own tea.

Nodding his head, Jongin bites his lip. He doesn’t fully understand, and in all honesty, he doesn’t think Sehun expects him to, either, but there’s something about the sincerity and slight frustration in Sehun’s voice that makes him wish he did. Jongin sits and listens to the sound of the old man opening the door before closing it behind him, all while chewing on his straw. He really hopes it doesn’t damage his teeth.

“So what you’re saying is,” Jongin mumbles, slurping loudly, “you can never really win?”

“It’s definitely unfair, but I guess that’s something you gotta learn to live with, especially as the team captain, even though I have yet to do so,” Sehun says, removing a strand of black hair from his face. “Anyway.” He shoots Jongin a friendly smile. “Sorry to steer this conversation into such murky territories; tell me about yourself.”

Jongin stills. He’s grown so used to hearing Sehun talk (with that honey laced voice of his, the blond thinks, even if he’s complaining) that his mind promptly goes blank. “Uh,” he mumbles, squirming slightly in his chair under Sehun’s intense gaze. “Myself?” Smooth, smooth.

“Yeah, yourself,” Sehun says, voice laced with interest. “You play hockey, right?” He doesn’t even give Jongin a chance to reply before he speaks again. “Ice hockey, if I remember correctly, right? When’d you start?”

Raiding his entire brain for a rational answer (which is hard given Sehun’s stare), Jongin clears his throat. “Uh, I, uh, don’t play hockey,” he says and internally panics when Sehun blinks. “Anymore,” he blurts out, flailing his arms around, “anymore, I don’t play it anymore, I used to but I quit three years ago, you’re absolutely right, yeah, oh my God.” He instinctively looks down, keeping his gaze fixated on his lap, and tries to fight back the blush that’s creeping up his neck.

Sehun, amused, puts his hands up in defense before laughing a little. “Sounds interesting, I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of playing hockey on ice, you must have a great sense of balance then, hm?” He chuckles when Jongin, who’s still looking at his lap, only nods. “Many wins, I presume?”

“Yeah,” Jongin says, cheeks still burning. He looks up when he’s certain his face isn’t too scarlet. “Haven’t you seen the glass case?” he asks and nearly buries his face in his hands. “, I didn’t mean to sound rude, I’m sorry, damn it, yes, yes, we won like twelve times,” he croak-garbles, desperately wishing somebody would dim the lights so he wouldn’t feel the need to hide his tomato colored face from view. Jesus Christ.

“Ah, how could I forget,” Sehun shakes his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes a little. “I walk past the darn thing everyday. And that’s impressive, really, my team’s only won ten times, I think. Not that I care, anyway,” he chuckles before removing the lid to his cup and proceeding to lean his head back. “How long’d you play?” he asks as he takes a large swig, effectively emptying said cup of its contents in a matter of seconds.

Trying to tear his eyes off Sehun’s (strong) neck muscles and Adam’s apple, Jongin mumbles a string of incoherent ‘um’s before reality seems to catch up with him. “Three and a half years,” he says, playing with his straw in his hands. “Ten wins is still a lot, though!” he squawks. He honestly didn’t think Sehun’s team had won that many times. He almost asks if Sehun's team managed to win all those times because of the latter but he quickly decides against it. Don’t wanna scare him away. “If you’re intrigued by it, you should try it out sometime! Trust me, it’s not nearly as hard as it looks!”

“No way,” Sehun squawks, putting his hands up. “I’d much rather stick to a solid surface; I  hate ice. Not to mention I only have bad memories about it, anyway,” he adds with a chuckle, shuddering slightly. Looking to the right, his eyes flash when he sees a couple of beanbags sitting in the corner. “Hey, wanna move?”

Jongin blinks before following Sehun’s gaze, lips curling slightly upwards when he spots them, too. The thought of sitting on a big, squishy beanbag, a giant contrast to the hard, plastic chair he’s currently sitting on (which is making his bottom go numb), absolutely thrills him and the next thing he knows, he’s out of his chair and rushing towards the colorful sacks in the corner of the café, before practically throwing himself onto the light pink one; the biggest one. With Sehun watching him, amusement prominent on his face, he scrambles to get a proper seating on the soft, cushion-y material, which is, he just noticed, the same color as the tea he-

Damn.

Jongin eyes his half empty cup which is still sitting on the table where he left it. He blames it on Sehun’s smile, which makes Jongin’s insides feel equally as soft as the beanbag he’s sitting on, because before he knows it, he’s opening his mouth to speak.

“Could you please give me my tea?” he asks, and blinks when Sehun seems to snap out of a certain trance.

Sehun raises an eyebrow in amusement as he watches Jongin, who looks like he’s gradually becoming one with the rather enormous beanbag. “Are you serious?” he chuckles, gesturing to the cup. “You can’t walk three steps and get it yourself?” he adds when Jongin pouts, but there’s no bite in his voice. In fact, Jongin thinks he sounds like he’s seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Yeah, sure I can,” Jongin says, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I don’t wanna.” He suddenly feels a strong urge to fall asleep. Damn, is this thing squishy.

---

“But I don’t wanna.”

Sehun only chuckles before shaking his head in disbelief. This kid, he thinks to himself as he grabs Jongin’s half empty cup and standing up. There’s something about the sight of Jongin as he the latter lies on the beanbag before him; white hair splayed out across the pink material, a childish grin on his face, the way he just seems to incredibly...exposed, that makes Sehun’s gut churn with something he can’t quite pinpoint. He quickly rids his brain of the feeling and smirks. Grabbing the cup in his hands, he holds it above and behind his head, as if to throw it straight at the blond’s face, and lets out a loud laugh when Jongin emits a startled squawk before he scrambles to instinctively cover his face with his arms. Damn it, he’s such a child.

In all honesty, Sehun didn’t know what to expect Jongin to be like when he first arrived and sat down. He expected the latter to be a nervous wreck, which he most certainly was; in fact, Sehun was seconds away from asking the women behind the counter to bring Jongin a paper bag that the latter could breathe in since Sehun momentarily feared the blond would pass out from hyperventilating so much. And I thought I was a nervous, he thinks to himself before chuckling low in his throat. All in all, he definitely didn’t expect the change in the blond’s comfort to change so incredibly fast. It’s like he went from a stiff, blushing wreck with anxiety issues to a hyperactive little kid in less than ten minutes, Sehun thinks. An adorable one, at that. Not that Sehun minds the blond’s sudden change in behavior; if anything, it makes his inner parenting skills flare up (he blames it on having to grow up with four younger sisters) and he ignores the way his chest swells with warmth at the sight of Jongin making himself comfortable on the beanbag. Is he always like this or is it because he likes- Sehun interrupts himself mid thought and bites his lip. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.

“Don’t do that!” Jongin exclaims, eyes wide, and Sehun fights the urge to walk over and squish the blond’s cheeks together. He doesn’t, though, given that he’s certain that Jongin will slap him right across the face without hesitation.

“Sorry,” Sehun says, in the most unapologetic tone Jongin has ever heard in his life, before walking over and handing the cup to the blond, who gleefully accepts it. He tries to ignore the feeling of excitement that rushes through his entire body when Jongin moves to grab the cup, only for their hands to overlap. The contact only lasts for a brief moment, though, and the next thing Sehun knows, Jongin is happily sipping on his drink, as blissful as ever; as if nothing happened. Well then.

Sehun sighs before staring down at the blond, who’s far too occupied with blowing bubbles into the little tea he’s got left, and he momentarily wonders if he’ll regret leaving Chanyeol and Junmyeon (and the rest of his team, for that matter) out on the field to fend for themselves against the other school, which Sehun has already forgotten the name of. They’ve most likely started warming up by now, he thinks. No point in going now.

Sehun looks back at Jongin, just as the latter squawks something along the lines of ‘I splashed it in my eye!’, and smiles a little bit.

He most certainly doesn’t think he’ll regret it.

---

Rubbing furiously at his eyes, Jongin mumbles a low ‘stupid drink’ before getting comfortable on the beanbag. His head is still feeling woozy from the (probably unintentional) short touch he and Sehun shared less than a minute ago (in fact, he’s surprised he didn’t drop his cup in shock); the surface of his right hand is still tingling and as much as Jongin hopes Sehun feels the same way, or at least noticed, Jongin highly doubts he did, given that Sehun simply stood up straight without as much as a word after handing his drink to him. Damn it.

It’s not until Jongin averts his gaze and catches Sehun staring down at him with a rather...curious look on his face that he suddenly feels extremely exposed; he feels very much like a deer caught in headlights under Sehun’s gaze given that he’s spread his limbs out across the entire beanbag for maximum comfort. Now he highly regrets doing so but he decides against moving in fear of Sehun possibly finding it strange, so he opts to remain spread out across the cushion while trying his very hardest not to blush.

In desperate need of conversation (honestly, he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to handle Sehun staring down at him like that), Jongin clears his throat. “Aren’t you gonna sit down?” he asks with an overdramatic grin.

Chuckling, Sehun nods his head before walking past Jongin and grabbing a beanbag of his own, a green one. The blond watches as Sehun proceeds to drag said beanbag across the floor until it’s a couple of inches from his own. He honestly doesn’t know whether he should feel overjoyed or horrified at the close proximity. He settles for both.

A blast of air hits Jongin in the face when Sehun sits down on the beanbag and watches as the latter makes himself comfortable. Now, normally, Jongin absolutely detests the color green and wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything in said color, but, for some odd reason, seeing Sehun sit on a beanbag of the same color; elbows resting on his (splayed out) legs and looking as sharp as ever, makes Jongin rethink his opinions.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the women behind the counter chitchat about God knows what, until Jongin speaks up.

“What did you mean by ‘I only have bad memories about it’?” the blond asks, sipping his tea, making sure to avoid Sehun’s eyes as he wraps his lips around the straw. Not that he thinks Sehun is even looking in his direction, but he does it just to be on the safe side. “You know, about the hockey thing?”

“Oh.” Sehun chuckles, eyes flashing with what the blonde can only interpret as nostalgia. “That.” He clears his throat, squirming in his seat a little. “Uh, well, it’s kinda humiliating-”

“Which is exactly why I wanna hear it,” Jongin blurts out. He makes a mental note to keep his mouth nice and shut in the future.

Sehun seems to shoot Jongin a look before opening his mouth to speak. “Well, there was this time a couple of years ago,” he mumbles, scratching his neck. “Where I was practicing tackling with my friend Junmyeon at like nine in the evening, don’t ask what I was doing out in the cold at that hour, when all of a sudden an ice hockey puck strikes me right in the frigging groin.” He pauses for a while to let out a cough of embarrassment, and subsequently flinches when Jongin suddenly chokes on his mouthful of tea.

Oh my God. He doesn’t think it’s showing too much on the outside, but on the inside, Jongin is a complete and utter panic-stricken mess, and he swallows the large lump in his throat before taking a few breaths to calm himself down. His cheeks flush both at the memory, which he remembers all too well, as well as Sehun’s piercing gaze, given that he’s got an unattractive trail of pink liquid dribbling down his chin, and he desperately wishes the floor would swallow him up already.

“You okay?” Sehun asks, amusement lacing his voice, as he leans in (way too close) and gestures at Jongin’s chin, making the latter blush even more. “You’ve got a little...something there,” he adds. He looks like he’s about to burst into laughter any second and Jongin fights the urge to spit the excess tea in his mouth right in Sehun’s face.

“I know,” Jongin manages to say without the liquid in his mouth spilling out, although it comes out sounding more like a croaky gurgle than anything. Looking around, hoping the girl in the corner doesn’t see him, he exhales in relief when he spots a box of napkins on the counter. He’s seconds away from standing up (which is immensely difficult since his bottom feels like it’s glued to the beanbag) and walking over to the counter when he hears Sehun’s voice.

“Let me help you.”

“Wha-” Jongin’s sentence is abruptly cut off and ends in a low, barely audible gasp when he turns his head to the left, only to feel Sehun press a napkin against the corners of his mouth. After processing the fact that Oh Sehun is dabbing his face with a tissue, Jongin nearly suffers a heart attack when he notices just how close they are; Sehun has leaned in so much that their faces are a mere inch apart and it takes every fiber in Jongin’s being not to lean away and scream at the top of his lungs. The butterflies in his stomach, which he forgot even existed, all seem to take off simultaneously and he prays to God they don’t fly up and into his throat as he keeps his eyes locked on Sehun, who’s got his eyebrows knitted together in concentration, and Jongin visibly gulps when he stares even harder (at least he won’t have to worry about getting caught staring, he figures) and sees what he assumes is  Sehun’s roots, black roots, and he inwardly squees because Oh Sehun has the same natural hair color as me.  

At some point, Jongin makes the mistake of inhaling and he deeply regrets doing so when Sehun’s perfume, the one he’s so used to smelling at this point, tingles his senses and he hopes his heart doesn’t explode when the latter mumbles a low ‘sorry’ when he accidentally manages to use the back of the tissue, the side that’s drenched in tea, to wipe Jongin’s chin and thus causing him to smear it out even more. Not that Jongin minds. In fact, he never even noticed in the first place.

Sehun’s lips are glistening with a thin layer of tea, as Jongin notices when his gaze shamelessly trails down, and it takes everything in the blond’s power not to lean in. However, he actually does, much to his absolute terror, lean in, although subconsciously, and he inwardly panics when Sehun seemingly leans away a tad bit. Jongin doesn’t even have time to freak out over it when Sehun sits back in his beanbag and balls up the now pink tissue before tossing it over his head, and Jongin’s jaw nearly hits the floor when it lands right in Sehun’s empty cup, which is still sitting on the table (which is situated ten feet away from the beanbags).

Jongin blinks. If it wasn't for football, he could be a basketball player. “That was so cool!” he exclaims, instantly embarrassed at how excited he sounds when Sehun only chuckles. 

"Wanna try it?" Sehun asks and doesn't give Jongin a chance to reply before he stands up and walks over to the table (in one large stride, the blond notices) and gracefully plucks the tissue out of the cup. Sitting back down on the beanbag, he leans away a little as he hands it to Jongin. "Here you go. Don't get your hands all sticky, though."

Jongin blinks. Sehun's perfume tingles his nose again and he swallows. "I, uh," he stammers, trying to fight back his blush. "I'm not good at-"

"The trick is to swing your arm back and then forwards," Sehun says with an enthusiastic grin. "Like this," he adds, gently taking the tissue out of Jongin's hand, the latter doing his best to stifle a scream when their hands graze against each other; again, before loosely gripping it between his thumb and index finger. "Watch."

Jongin does watch. Or to be frank, he watches Sehun in awe because honestly, the side profile closely resembles that of a Greek God, and he's so caught up in staring at Sehun's perfect jawline that he only realizes the latter has thrown the tissue a second time, just as effortlessly as the first, when he hears the soft sound of the balled up tissue hitting the bottom of the cup. Snapping his head up, he blinks, doing his best to collect his thoughts. "Sheesh, you're good at this," he mumbles.

"Thanks," Sehun says sheepishly before standing up and grabbing the cup. "I do this in class sometimes, during boring lessons," he adds, turning said cup upside down so the tissue falls out and onto the table. He grabs it and returns back to his beanbag, turning to face Jongin with an expectant smile on his face. "Now you try it!"

OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. "Uh," Jongin stammers, mouth hanging open. He eyes the tissue with great caution like it's a grenade about to deterioate. "Uh, I don't; like I said, I'm not good at-"

"You saw the way I moved my arm just now, didn't you?" Sehun asks and Jongin nearly cowers under his intense gaze.

Jongin gulps. No. "Yeah."

"Great, then you'll be fine," Sehun chirps before tossing the tissue at Jongin, wholeheartedly expecting the latter to catch it. Except he doesn't, and Sehun watches in great amusement as the tissue bounces off the blond's forehead and into his lap. "Whoops, sorry."

"I'm not a basketball player, though," Jongin groans, playing with the tissue in his hands and moans in disgust when he feels a certain stickiness on his palm. He honestly didn't know bubble tea would be this sticky.

Sehun blinks. "Basketball?" he repeats in amusement. "This is how you pass a football. Well, not exactly, but the technique is really similar. And I'm no basketball player either, so you're good to go!" he chuckles, gesturing to the tissue.

With a defeated sigh, Sehun's piercing stare pressuring every nerve in his body, Jongin mumbles a low 'fine' before eyeing the cup intently. Doing his best to follow Sehun's instructions (not that he heard them in the first place, which he highly regrets) and movements, he inwardly groans before tossing the tissue as gently as he can. Or more precisely, he throws it, given that he loses control of his arm and wrist (again, he blames it on Sehun's stare) right when he's about to let go and Jongin watches in absolute horror as the tissue flies through the air at an alarming speed, most certainly missing the cup, and bounces off of the girl sitting fifteen feet away before finally coming to a stop on the keyboard of her laptop. .

He doesn't know what happens next, since that he keeps his face buried in his hands for a whole five minutes afterwards, but what Jongin does hear, however, is an irritated (female) sigh of 'you think this is funny?', closely followed by a rather pissed off 'get over here and clean this up!'. He hears Sehun trying his best to stifle a snicker to his left and Jongin is seconds away from whacking him upside the back of the head. God ing damn it.

It's not until Sehun says something along the lines of 'Sorry, it was my idea, i'll clean it up', that Jongin flies out of his beanbag like a bullet and grabs the two unused tissues lying on his and Sehun's table, before rushing towards the girl, while mumbling a string of incoherent 'No, I'll do it, I threw it'. He figures it's the right thing to do. Not to mention he highly doubts he'll be able to handle ogling Sehun's backside for longer than three seconds without needing to go outside and take a breath of fresh air. It's probably best to be on the safe side.

Avoiding her eyes, he quickly proceeds to wipe at her laptop, which is covered in a thin layer of pink goo. He can feel Sehun's gaze burning holes in his back and he swallows before hastily wiping at her keyboard, all while mumbling an occasional, barely coherent 'Sorry', to which she simply replies with an annoyed nod. When he moves to wipe at her screen, he's ultimately greeted with the sight of her Facebook feed. Not that he cares, but he can't help but find himself slightly intruigued anyway (who wouldn't be in that situation, he figures). He highly regrets even sparing her screen a look when his eyes land on a photo.

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As if Sehun's godforsaken stare wasn't stressful enough. .

"This café's for working, not dating."

Trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach, which are beginning to go haywire at this point, Jongin nearly jumps five feet in the air. "What-"

"This is an internet café," she says, scrolling through her phone, not even sparing Jongin a glance (which he's extremely thankful for, in all honesty). "Just saying, I don't usually see couples in here, but you do you, I guess." She quickly bats Jongin's hand away when he accidentally brings it a little too close to her cup of tea.

Jongin stills for a minute. He doesn't even need to turn his head to know that Sehun is staring at them both. In fear of possibly freaking the latter out, in case he heard, Jongin squawks before proceeding to vigorously shake his head.

"He's not my date," Jongin says as quietly as he can, voice barely audible even to himself, before balling the tissue up in his hand. When he's certain he's wiped all the tea off her screen, he clears his throat. "Well-"

"If you're gonna be all lovey-dovey and stuff, try to do it as far away from me, if you'd please."

Must girls always talk so ing loud? Pressing his lips together, Jongin feels a bead of sweat forming along his hairline and he prays his makeup doesn't wash off his face. "Yeah we're not a couple, and sure, sorry again," he mumbles before turning on his heel and walking back to the beanbags, gaze fixated on the floor.

"What was that all about?" Sehun asks in curiosity when Jongin sits back down. He pokes the blond slightly when he doesn't say anything. "Hey, was she rude to you?"

Jongin flinches a little at the touch. "No, no, she wasn't," he stammers, and lies, shooting Sehun a grin. "Oh, and, thanks, by the way," he adds, gesturing to his face. "Now, where uh, where we-"

“Don’t mention it,” Sehun says simply before stretching in his beanbag. He seems to relax for a minute until his eyes flash and he bolts upright. “Oh, right, anyway, I didn’t know what on Earth it was at first, since I spent the next fifteen minutes face down in the dirt practically crying my eyes out, but Junmyeon told me it was a puck, which made me instantly surprised since I didn’t see a single soul out on the rink when I got up. Strange, huh?”

Mind reeling, Jongin shrugs. Do I tell him? Do I tell him?? Dear God, do I tell him??? is all that echoes in his head but he manages to shove the thought away before nodding. “Weird. I guess whoever it was didn’t want you to see them?” he asks, throwing the tissue on the floor.

“I guess,” Sehun says, wincing a bit at the memory, and Jongin nearly cackles when he moves to close his legs and subconsciously cover his crotch with his hand. “Whoever hit that thing must have a master aim because Jesus. Hey, that reminds me, why’d you quit?”

Still trying to recover from the shock, Jongin blinks. “Uh.”

“Hockey, silly,” Sehun laughs, giving Jongin a light shove. The latter hopes the electric current that explodes in his body won’t electrocute Sehun. “Why’d you quit? I mean, you seemed to like it and it was going awfully well.”

A heavy feeling settles itself in the depths of Jongin’s chest. Fidgeting, he turns his face away. “Um. Well.” .

Sehun raises an eyebrow when he sees Jongin’s sullen expression. “Is,” he starts, pressing his lips together. “Is something wrong?”

. “No, it’s fine, it’s just-” Jongin swallows, head suddenly feeling foggy. Despite that, there’s something about Sehun’s gaze that’s so extremely comforting. “It’s a...long story.”

“I’m all ears,” Sehun says a sincere tone as he turns his body to face Jongin, lips still pressed together in concern. He nods a little when Jongin runs a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. “It’s okay, it’s alright, you don’t need to-”

“I quit a year after my parents got divorced,” Jongin blurts out, avoiding Sehun’s gaze at all costs. Despite feeling like his stomach is in the process of getting torn in half, he still feels a sense of comfort knowing Sehun, of all people, is listening. “My uh, my Dad always hated that I played it, since I missed out on a lot my studies because of it.” Even though he’s got his gaze fixated on his lap, he can tell Sehun is staring at him, and listening intently. “I used it as a form of therapy afterwards since my Dad obviously couldn’t raise both me and my sister on his own after my Mom moved out, so I kinda became-” He pauses to take a breath. “Well, not so attentive to her for uh, a couple of years.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he fidgets in his lap. He half expects for Sehun to move on to the next topic, which is why the blond is extremely surprised when he asks;

“To your mom?” Even though Jongin isn’t looking at Sehun, or up for that matter, the latter is staring at the blond with concern written all over his features. When Jongin doesn’t say anything for a while, Sehun furrows his eyebrows. “Sorry, I-”

“No, my sister,” Jongin replies, biting his lip. “I mean, she was 11 at the time of the divorce and I couldn’t properly handle the fact that my Mom had moved out for good and that my Dad no longer cared about us after she left. I mean, he found someone last year but she’s constantly away on some business trip halfway around the world. Anyway, not to mention my 16 year old self had no proper experience when it came to raising and or taking care of a younger sibling whatsoever, so I kind of isolated myself and took to playing hockey to uh, deal with my emotions,” he adds, swallowing again. A strong feeling of regret explodes in his chest and he has to deep breath to get rid of it.

“So you’ve grown apart since that day, or?” Sehun asks, voice low and laced with sincerity and empathy. The calmness of his voice makes Jongin feel a tad bit better. "And please, don't call yourself that."

Chuckling humorlessly, Jongin runs a hand through his hair, which is completely flat at this point. “More like I’ve grown apart from her,” he mumbles before swallowing. “I mean, it’s not like I wanted to, y’know? It’s just that I started talking to her less and less to focus on hockey, especially since I made sure to stay out of the house as much as possible since I didn’t want to be under the same roof as my Dad, and still kinda don’t. I mean, it’s different now that I’ve quit, but I still can’t ing bring myself to talk to her since I feel like ; I mean, I want to but I just can’t. I mean , man, I don’t know if she feels the same way, but it ing pains me since it’s obvious she’s eager to talk to me and constantly tries getting my attention, because Dad gives her none, and-” He promptly stops talking and swallows the evergrowing lump in his throat. Fidgeting with his empty cup, he clears his throat. “Basically, I quit because I couldn’t handle continuing to play the sport that caused me to grow apart from my sister, whose name is Jungah, by the way, you know who she is.”

Moving his beanbag closer to Jongin’s, Sehun leans in a little bit closer so only Jongin can hear him. “If she’s trying to get your attention, maybe you should see it as a sign that she forgives you,” he says and Jongin shudders when Sehun’s warm breath tickles his ear. “Even if you’re feeling guilty, it’s never too late.”

“I was a useless ing brother,” Jongin breathes, voice shaking slightly. “Hell, I still am, I doubt she’d ever forgive me. And even if she’s trying to get my attention she doesn’t deserve a piece of brother like me; she’s such a smart, bright young girl who deserves all the attention she could possibly get, and-” He nearly jumps out of his skin when Sehun suddenly places a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey now,” Sehun says soothingly, “Listen, I would at least talk to her about it first, before jumping to conclusions. I mean, Jumping to conclusions will only cause you to grow further apart, so if you’re dead set on mending your relationship I’d say talking it out would be the best thing to do. You can’t avoid her forever, she’s a teenage girl in need of a brotherly figure, especially given the situation with your Dad. Come to think of it, talking it out might help you, too.” He reaches out and gently places his index finger under Jongin’s chin when the latter bites his lip in reluctance. “I know it’s easier said than done, but given that you already feel guilty about it, at least put in some effort to make things right, I’m sure Jungah would appreciate it. For all you know, she might be desperate to mend your relationship, too, hence her constant attempts at getting your attention.” Gently turning Jongin’s head with his fingers so that the latter is facing him, he shoots the blond a sympathetic smile. “You could prove to her what a useful and good-hearted brother you are,” he adds. “It’s your big chance.”

Jongin’s heart is racing, mainly due to the fact that Oh Sehun is touching him and staring him square in the eye, and he prays the latter can’t hear the frantic beating of his heart given that they’re sitting less than an inch apart. For years, he’s been reluctant to even look Jungah in the eyes but there’s something about the way Sehun is smiling at him, seemingly as a means of encouragement, that triggers a new feeling of determination deep inside his gut. Opening his mouth, he says something along the lines of ‘okay’, however, the dryness of his mouth (he honestly doesn’t know if it’s due to the fact that he’s just spilled his entire heart out or the fact that Sehun is touching him and trying to cheer him up) reduces the word to an incoherent, unattractive sound and he mentally facepalms. Damn it.

Sehun chuckles, but his eyes and voice remain as serious as ever. A small part of Jongin actually wishes Sehun would turn his face away so he can breathe and calm his racing heart since he feels like he’s on the brink of suffocating. “You will, though?” he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Jongin says with a nod. He worries he might melt into the beanbag if Sehun continues to stare at him like that. Clearing his throat when Sehun removes his hand from his chin, he looks away and takes a much needed breath of air. When he’s certain his heart rate has slowed down, he slowly turns his head to look at Sehun, only for his heart to nearly explode when he sees Sehun staring at him with that same godforsaken empathetic gaze. “Um.”

“You know, if you ever feel sad or unsure about anything,” Sehun says, shooting Jongin a reassuring look, “you can always call or talk to me, you know that, right?”

Jongin blinks. Okay, I seriously need to get out of here and take a breath of fresh air. “I can’t talk to you,” he thinks and clenches his jaw when he realizes he’d said it out loud. ing damn it.

“Why not?” Sehun asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Because, your fans’ll kill me and dump my body overseas if they catch me,” Jongin blurts out and this time, he actually does facepalm. God damn it. Me and my big mouth. He’s obviously way past trying to keep his cool in order to make a good first impression at this point and he’s at least 100% sure Sehun knows it, too. . “Wait, hold on, I didn’t mean-”

“I’ll make sure to hold them back,” Sehun says simply before shooting Jongin a wink, to which the latter replies with an unattractive squawk. “Are you finished?” he asks, gesturing to the blond’s empty cup.

Nodding, Jongin places the cup next to his beanbag. A sudden wave of sadness washes over him when he realizes that’s probably Sehun’s way of saying he wants to leave. Well then. Swallowing the in his throat, which never seems to disappear, Jongin nods again and he watches as Sehun gracefully gets off his beanbag, not a wrinkle anywhere on his clothes. The latter stretches a bit before bending down and grabbing Jongin’s cup before placing it on the table next to his own. Jongin honestly feels like he’s become one with his beanbag at this point and no matter how hard he tries to wriggle himself out, it’s proven to be useless when his body doesn’t even budge. With a huff, he looks around for something to grab onto, only to freeze and blink in surprise when a hand suddenly appears in front of his face.

Jongin stares at Sehun’s extracted hand like it’s some sort of unidentified creature from outer space. He doesn’t know if it’s the overall eagerness to stand up and stretch out his tired legs or the overwhelming urge to touch Sehun that makes him do it, but the next thing he knows, his arm is moving of its own accord and before he knows it, he’s grabbing Sehun’s hand, which fits so perfectly together in his own, closely followed by the latter quickly, and oh so effortlessly (footballer strength, Jongin figures), pulling him to his feet.

Upon standing upright, Jongin hisses when a sudden head rush overwhelms him but he decides against grabbing onto something for support, which he instantly, deeply regrets when all of a sudden, the spinning in his head promptly causes him to lose his balance, and before he has a chance to stop himself, he’s falling. More specifically, forward.

Even more specifically, face first into Sehun’s chest.

The first thing that hits him is the overwhelming, but soothing, nonetheless, scent of mint. The second thing that hits him is a certain warmth, which most definitely isn’t coming from a radiator. The third thing that hits him, or rather, his ear, is the rhythmic sound of thumping which he doesn’t recognize at first, given that the spinning in his head is preventing him from thinking straight. However, after his mind settles and the room promptly stops spinning, reality quickly catches up to him and the terrifying realization dawns on him and, the next thing Jongin knows, he’s scrambling to get away from Sehun, all while emitting a series of ‘Sorry’s and ‘Oh my God’s and nearly crashing into the shelf behind him. So much for ‘great sense of balance’. A new sense of dread overwhelms him when he averts his gaze and realizes he’s still grabbing onto Sehun’s hand. Oh my Gooooood.

“Jesus, I thought you were gonna pass out,” Sehun breathes in relief before placing a hand on Jongin’s shoulder. “Stand up slower next time,” he adds with a smirk.

“You pulled me,” Jongin squawks. “If anything, it’s your fault.” He looks away, trying to hide his blush from Sehun’s view. The fact that they’re standing a mere inch away from each other; hell, their bodies are practically pressed together, sets Jongin’s insides on fire. “Uh,” he says dumbly, “you uh, going home now?”

Sehun blinks. “Home?”

“Yeah,” Jongin chokes out, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. For God’s sake, let go of my hand already!

“Why?” Sehun asks, genuinely confused.

“Because,” Jongin starts and quickly closes his mouth when he realizes he has no idea what to say. “Uh. We’re...finished?” He blinks when another thought hits him. “Wait. And you’ve got training, right?”

Sehun stills for a brief moment before he shakes his head. “Nope. And I don’t know about you,” he says, shooting Jongin a wide grin, “but it’s only nine and I’m in the mood for a movie.” He gently lets go of Jongin’s hand, much to the latter’s relief and utter disappointment, before zipping his jacket up to his chin and heading towards the door. “Come on!”

Jongin blinks in astonishment. Okay, that’s definitely not what he’d been expecting. “Wait, uh, what?”

Sehun turns around when he’s three feet away from the door. “There’s this new slasher movie that came out like, last week,” he calls over his shoulder, a hint of excitement in his voice, “I checked online last week and it starts in half an hour, it’s got great reviews; hurry or we’ll miss it!” he adds before nodding at the women behind the counter as if to say ‘thank you for the drinks’.

Ignoring the flame of excitement that ignites somewhere deep in his gut, Jongin stands nailed to the floor, his legs unable to move. It takes him a while to properly process Sehun’s words and when he does, a sense of agony creeps up on him and he squawks. “Wait, I, Sehun, I really don’t like hor-”

When he looks up, Sehun is gone, out of shop, and Jongin inwardly sighs in exasperation before turning around and muttering a low ‘bye’ to the cashiers. Flame still burning, he bites his lip before jogging towards the door to catch up with Sehun and nearly trips and falls flat on his face when his right shoelace comes undone. With a huff of 'goddamn shoes', he bends down and proceeds tie it.

~~~