When the dark stage screen lights up and the other fans around him start screaming, Jongin knows it’s beginning.

The eagerness kicks in further, coursing through his limbs and his already wild, excited thoughts, almost making him feel faint. Ah, no, he corrects himself, he definitely feels faint. It’s just not entirely unpleasant.

His shirt is clinging to his back under his black jacket and he is shifting his weight from one foot to the other, slightly uncomfortable due to the burning sweat accumulating. He nervously pushes a few strands of silvery blond hair aside, frowning.

He thinks he could suffocate because of the heat emanating from all the people around him, but he breathes in and out slowly: he wants to be here after all.

He’s outright staring at the stage, waiting for the very moment his idol will appear. He’s not even blinking and his eyes tear up a bit because of the strong light rays, because what if he misses it? What if he misses his entrance?

(He’s quite close to the stage, he knows he won’t miss it – his first appearance. He’s just incredibly nervous. That’s all.)

He doesn’t exactly care if he seems intense, if he is “too much”, simply because he has stopped caring at some point. (At the very least, that’s what he tells himself.) He doesn’t mind that he is one of the very few male fans here tonight, though it will probably always make one a bit self-conscious at first.

After all, he believes there’s nothing fundamentally wrong with him being inspirationally speaking head over heels for D.O, this Korean singer barely older than he is.

He has adored him since day one and he wants to show his support. That’s all there is to it. It might appear simple-minded, but he is fine with this. (Almost.)

Kyungsoo is his inspiration, his motivation, if you may say it this way.

 

And then it happens. A figure appears, dark against blinding silver spots, and Jongin thinks he’s finally going to lose it along with the rest of the fans. It’s one of the happiest days of his life, if not the happiest up to now.

 

Jongin has been a fan ever since he found a low-quality, very much pixelated video of Kyungsoo, now known as D.O (what a stupid stage name, he thinks), doing a random song cover. If he remembers well, it was a Bruno Mars song. A soothing song at that, with delicate yet rousing notes escaping from an acoustic guitar. This was years ago, and still he can perfectly remember the fluttering butterflies in his stomach when he saw and heard the other boy for the very first time. His dark fringe, a bit too long, covered his thick, expressive eyebrows. His lips, full and cutely heart-shaped, were captivating to look at as they continuously parted to form a pretty melody with cheesy words.

He has never really questioned his interest in Do Kyungsoo: he deems it to be admiration, inspiration, and always has deemed it to be so. He doesn’t know him on a personal level at all since he has never met him, but he has to admit he knows quite a few “random” facts about the older boy, facts ranging from his birthdate (so close to his own!) to what plushies were lined up against the far wall of his room at some point (if one observes the video backgrounds closely enough…).

But the most important thing to keep in mind, he believes, is that Kyungsoo is an inspiration to him.

His inspiration.

His inspiration to dance, his inspiration to be an artist and to never give up, his inspiration to be himself and follow what he wants above all else.

 

At first, Kyungsoo became fairly known on the internet by posting videos of himself singing and talking about future singing projects. Be it because of his angelic voice or his charming looks, he somehow managed to sign a contract with an entertainment agency a few months after Jongin discovered his first covers.

Jongin remembers being worried for the singer’s future.

In spite of everything, D.O has since then released two mini-albums and one regular album and has continued to take part in various singing and modelling projects. He even held a few fan meetings – and no, the teen isn’t that bitter about the fact he didn’t get to attend one yet, whatever Baekhyun says. He’s happy the artist is not overly popular yet just enough to do well on the music charts, else it would be a real concern to him. He doesn’t want to see him struggle. He is hardly a year older than he is and Jongin has enough difficulties managing his own teenage life, he doesn’t want to imagine how hard it must be for the singer at times.

He thinks that as long as he gets to enjoy Kyungsoo’s good looks, his voice and his talks through the agency’s channel or his personal Instagram account, he’ll be happy.

But of course, it doesn’t stop his brain and his heart from pairing up to fuel that fantasy of meeting the pretty, charismatic singer.

 

As soon as he bought his ticket for the concert, he started planning everything that he might need for that very, incredibly special day.

As a result of this zeal of his, he made his own fanboard, bought the still unofficial silver-blue light stick and even changed his phone so he could film and take decent pictures with a more recent one. After all, the old one had the annoying capacity to make everything appear ghostly as soon as a bit of lighting was involved in the picture, meaning he certainly would not be able to photograph D.O on stage when the time came.

The day before the concert he even went to the hairdresser, much to his mother’s delight. His hair was starting to be long, too long and unruly to fit some sort of bleached, messy hair aesthetics. His mother never liked him bleaching his hair so much, but she could enjoy nicely cut hair at the very least. She always let him go ahead with his ideas unless they were outrageously stupid or dangerous.

In the end he packed a small bottle of water, his wallet, his phone, the light stick, everything that he thought could help. Everything that could make this evening memorable.

(He decided to ditch his fanboard at the very last minute because it was too much of a hassle. Such hard work for nothing – but he’s happy with it nonetheless. Maybe he can just keep it as some sort of souvenir.)

 

He arrived early, thinking maybe he would be able to avoid long lines of jittery fans and wouldn’t have to endure a distressingly long wait standing up. Sadly, it seems he didn’t think it through very well. He’s familiar with being under the spotlight but he certainly isn’t one to attend shows.

The fans around him are pushing, pulling, and crushing him, apparently unable to contain themselves. He can imagine and even understand the stress and happy feelings one has at the thought of seeing his or her favorite idol because God, he has been saving for a year and bought his ticket as soon as the sales opened and he has also been preparing for months already and ohmygod Kyungsoo is going to be in the same room as him- but this is too much.

The show hasn’t even started yet and it makes him wonder what the singer would think of his crazy fans. They are expecting the doors to open soon, but at this point he cannot wait to be sitting in his seat and waiting for the show to begin.

Ah, but at least, there’s a nice girl right next to him. They’ve decided to link arms after discussing and sympathizing a bit over the loud cacophony. It helps them not to sway too much in this continuously moving human flood. She has that extraordinary normal smile, yet her eyes twinkle with something more. A purple glittery pin is holding back a bit of her dark brown hair away from her face and it doesn’t take long for Jongin to decide he likes her.

 

When the security guards finally open the doors, the general frenzy gets worse. Luckily for Jongin, it takes him only a few minutes to reach his seat – quite close to the stage actually – once he’s parted ways with the nice girl. He forgot to ask her name while they were talking.

 

The MC is a pretty one, a man with long legs and symmetrical features. He has an easy, lively voice and Jongin thinks whoever chose him made a great choice. He really keeps things interesting when the singer needs to go backstage to change or for his makeup to be retouched.

Jongin is also smiling goofily at the stage, oh so happy from witnessing his favorite male star ever.

The MC and Kyungsoo animate a bit, talk a bit, the singer presents things about himself. They even invite a female staff member on stage, who’s hiding her face with the sleeves of her jacket, to explain some of the concepts behind the concert’s song order and choices of outfit.

Then, the MC mentions that they are going to pick someone from the crowd. D.O is going to perform one of his catchiest and most mature song yet and a lucky fan will get to sit on a chair on stage while the singer dances and sings.

Don’t worry, you all, there’ll be other fans to be chosen!

The crowd goes wild. Everyone wants to be picked for the first direct fanservice act, or so it seems.

Who will be the lucky one? The MC asks.

Jongin feels his arms move before he can stop himself, trying to be noticed – and not really understanding himself since he knows he looks foolish right now. One girl beside him is actually laughing at him, but instead of being mean, she takes his arm and tries to get him to be noticed too. At least, he tells himself, he’s definitely not the only one amongst the chorus of “ahhhh”s and “oohhhh”s to look stupid right now. And he can always conveniently tell himself that this other fan is also responsible for his excitation.

The thing he didn’t plan is that he does get picked by the MC.

A few girls and and boys near him whine sadly, but the girl and another fan happily push him forward before he can even comprehend what’s happening. He’s brought to the forefront, to the set of stairs that will carry him to the stage.

For a few seconds, this particular set of black metal stairs seems like the worst obstacle he has ever encountered in his short life. He cannot move his feet: they are melting, stuck to the ground.

Fans encourage him, push him, and he has no choice but to climb.

He barely dares to advance further once he is on the last step, his legs feeling like jelly and his breathing pace picking up a bit. Wait, a bit? Panting would definitely be more accurate right now to describe the way in which he is getting air into his lungs.

The lights are blinding and the crowd seems like an infinite mass of dark, moving figures and flashes. Jongin isn’t sure if it looks scary or incredible right now. He sincerely hopes the cameras aren’t zooming in on his face too closely. After all, he’s got a zit on the left side of his face on his jawline and he probably looks like a gasping, confused fish out of the water.

Is that how the fishes he used to collect with his father felt once they were out of the water? Incapable of controlling their own body, gasping for air yet drowning in it because suddenly there is too much of it? Maybe he should reconsider his life choices after this.

The MC comes up to him, making a joke about his reluctance to walk on the stage. His voice is nice and his smile too: he’s probably only trying to break the tension. Hell, Jongin thinks he must be oozing stress right now. He tries to laugh. He also notices that Kyungsoo isn’t there, probably backstage to adjust something or change outfits.

D.O. He should focus on calling him D.O, not Kyungsoo.

“What’s your name?” The MC inquires, guiding him to a chair illuminated by bright, shiny gray stage lights. He bites his lips nervously before gathering a bit of courage, “M-my name’s Jongin.”

“Alright, Jongin-ssi,” starts the MC, “are you ready for the song? You just have to sit and- oh! Our D.O is back.” He waves to the idol, idol who’s currently smiling and waving to the crowd in a very happy fashion. Jongin’s doesn’t see well enough to know if it’s the makeup that has been retouched or if his shirt is of a different color than earlier, instead feeling his heart beat even wilder against his ribcage. Really, he thinks the conflicting feelings fighting inside his head are going to make him faint. Or something.

He’s so happy to see his idol, but ohmygod, it’s too much for him. What if he already fainted and he’s just dreaming? Such a nice dream it would be then.

It’s almost funny how the sounds become so loud they just grow duller and quieter, and suddenly Jongin cannot understand or hear the MC’s instructions well anymore, although he still feels himself nodding. His feet carry him to the chair without him tripping.

Then, before he realises it all, a loud, deep beat resounds in the concert hall and soon enough, Kyungsoo’s voice follows. At first, he thinks he might make it through the song okay, but after half of it, D.O leans in carefully toward him, forehead sweaty and a mike in his hands. He makes sure not to get too close but still close enough that Jongin feels his personal space invaded. In a nice way, but invaded nonetheless.

At the last moment, as the smell of makeup spray and gel and sweat hits him, he feels the blood rush out of his face. The lightheaded feeling he has been trying to fight off for the past minutes and ignore since earlier intensifies even more. He doesn’t even feel it when his body becomes limp on the chair and he falls to the side, sliding.

Kyungsoo luckily catches him before he can hit the ground, confusion etched on his face, dropping his mike to the ground.

Everything becomes black. Jongin thinks he hears something and then silence prevails.

 

When he comes back to himself, the first sounds he picks up are muffled. They progressively become clearer, and then he can identify voices, murmuring about who knows what. There is movement around him, frantic steps –

There is a hand on his cheek, patting gently, almost caressing. It’s comforting. He wants to lean into the touch.

Then he opens his eyes and all he sees is Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, leaning over him, close enough again that he can feel his breath – it smells like mint, and he really doesn’t mind - fanning over his face and smell whatever cologne or perfume he’s wearing. It’s all mixed with the odour of sweat, of course, but that is to be expected and even this detail makes the flutters in his stomach worsen somehow. How can his body still be excited at the idea of Kyungsoo beside him? He fainted and barely just woke up. Because that’s what just happened, right? He fainted. Because of Kyungsoo (and the heat). Just how infatuated is he?

Isn’t D.O supposed to only be an inspiration? A motivation?

Sometimes Jongin forgets he’s a fanboy who squeals each time a new video of Kyungsoo comes out.

Sometimes you’re a bit of an idiot, Baekhyun would say. An oblivious one.

He looks around. He obviously isn’t on the stage anymore. Maybe backstage? It would definitely make more sense.

The shock of the events doesn’t really leave him even when he’s helped into a sitting position by a female staff member and Kyungsoo. He tries to make sense of what’s happening around him: a man who looks like a manager is saying to some technicians that they took care of the intermission, another man is pressuring two staff members to do whatever it is they have to do quickly, makeup artists are discussing rapidly about – something – it just doesn’t end.

Because he seems lost and annoyed at the sounds, the female staff member gets up and pulls at a black curtain. Oh, they probably are in some kind of changing room. It helps a bit. He feels more at ease once there aren’t all these running staff members around.

Funnily enough, when he finally sets his eyes on D.O once more, the dizziness seems to momentarily diminish. Then, he feels his cheeks become red, his lips parted because words are stuck in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say, how to start. He’s been looking around for the past minutes without saying anything. Maybe he looks weird now.

His idol of many, many years is right beside him, and he’s looking at him with a small smile on his face.

On his other side, the girl says, “Oh, he’s got some colors back in his face. I will go get a bottle of water.”

Kyungsoo nods hurriedly, almost instantly reporting his attention back to him, voice soft when he asks, “Are you alright? What’s your name?”

At this, Jongin spaces out for an instant. When he notices that his idol is staring back expectantly at him, eyes wide and worried, he shakes his head to clear his thoughts, hesitating greatly. It’s true that the other didn’t hear him say his name to the MC since he was backstage when it happened.

He swallows with difficulty, his mouth full of cotton and his tongue heavy, “I- I, hum, I’m fine. Totally f-fine. I mean, I’m much better already. Thank you…?” The truth is that he’s still feeling quite sluggish, hot yet cold, and he doesn’t think his legs would support him to their full capacity yet. His back is drenched in cold sweats and his hair is slightly matted, sticking a bit to his forehead. How annoying to think he doesn’t look that great right now. He doesn’t feel that great either, but in front of Kyungsoo, that comes second. Second to his physical appearance.

Impressive, really, the effect someone can have on him.

But he can’t ignore his idol: he’s even better looking than on the pictures, even better looking than in the videos.

Black hair in a side-cut, round dark eyes lined with natural looking makeup, rosy plush lips and yes, visible skin imperfections on his cheeks and jawline, but he’s just perfect. Soft yet well-defined features that can transform into anything from wonder to sensuality.

Exactly the young man Jongin has been pining on for years, just even better now that he gets to see him “for real”.

It doesn’t take long for him to be long gone in front of that same young man once again. He doesn’t even react to the hand waving in front of his face.

Baekhyun has always told him he needs to work on that spacing out habit. It happens all the time when he’s overwhelmed or anxious.

“-r name? What’s your name?”

Still, back again to reality. “What?” He’s startled, looking down at the bottle of water that suddenly appears in his hands. It’s cold and condensation droplets make his fingers wet (wetter would be more precise since his palms were already clammy), but the freshness is welcome.

Kyungsoo almost seems amused by his lack of reaction. “Alright, drink a bit first. You’re a bit too hot, even for someone who’s been in a crowd.”

So he does drink, lifting the bottle’s mouth to his own with two trembling hands. He tries to take a sip nonchalantly, but ends up choking on the water and spilling some on his laps. His ears are burning. How clumsy can he get?

And the realisation hits him. Kyungsoo said his temperature was too high. Did he – did he touch his neck or forehead while he was out?

(Has Jongin already forgotten about the hand cradling his face as he woke up?)

He pushes that thought away and self-consciousness comes back to hit him full force.

He knows the feeling of embarrassment well. Hell, he’s had to cope with it many, many times in his short life, be it because of some idiot friends or his own awkwardness (shyness would be a nicer way to put it). Furthermore, he has danced on stage on numerous occasions. He’s familiar with this all, and yet –

Yet, right now, he’s mortified with himself. He dropped water on himself like a child unable to judge how fast water would spill out of the bottle’s neck.

He tries to wipe his chin without looking too pathetic, but before he can wet his sleeves, he’s presented with a few tissues. He takes them, not daring to lift his gaze for the time being. He needs to get his back together, he really needs to, but…

But his most favorite idol ever is looking at him staring right through him and into his soul and ohmygod that small smile on his full, perfectly shaped lips is soul-crushingly cute.

“What’s your name? I’m sorry I’m insisting so much, but I really want to make it up to you and it would probably be easier with your name.”

These words are music to his ears and he almost can’t contain the smile blossoming on his own lips. It’s probably just a dream. A dream that is trying to show him how embarrassing he can be, but a dream nonetheless.

“J-Jongin. I mean, my name’s Kim Jongin,” he has the decency to answer after a whole two minutes of awkward staring. Now, there is only the two of them behind the black curtain, away from the rest.

“Jongin? It’s a nice name,” says Kyungsoo. “Pleased to meet you. I’m so sorry for this, I… really didn’t mean for this to happen. For, uh, you to faint.”

He has the tact not to add because of me, and Jongin is relieved that the singer isn’t trying to embarrass him further.

And then, he accidentally disconnects.

Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo said his name is nice.

Kyungsoo said he has a nice name.

Kyungsoo said “Jongin is a nice name” and smiled and bowed to him and even apologised for something he shouldn’t have to apologise for and-

“-ygod, you’re bleeding!”

He looks down at his laps and notices a few drops of dark, red liquid seeping through his pants. Oh. Blood. He can feel hot liquid running down his nose, mouth and chin: some accidentally trickles into his mouth and it tastes like iron.

It’s a good thing his pants weren’t expensive, because they might just be ruined after this, he thinks distractedly.

He isn’t really panicked by his nosebleed, rather it gives him the occasion to watch as the dark haired idol leans in and places tissues under his nose, instructing him to lean forward and pinch the bridge of his nose. He follows the instructions, actually happy to oblige Kyungsoo. All of what happened in the last half an hour (he isn’t sure, is it less than that? What about the concert?) is worth a terrible fanfiction, but the butterflies in his stomach haven’t stopped flying around.

 

Once blood finally stops pouring out of his nose, Kyungsoo is called and chastised by his manager for staying backstage for so long. He has to go back quickly, the fans are starting to get restless, and he looks around with confusion in his stare before telling Jongin not to move.

He leaves, and Jongin thinks he won’t see him anymore, but he appears again two minutes later.

Jongin tilts his head at the other.

Kyungsoo is handing him a phone.

“It’s my phone,” he explains helpfully, “would you mind giving me your phone number? I’d really like to make it up to you.”

“What?” Jongin asks in disbelief. Why would Kyungsoo want to know his phone number just to make it up to him?

He must be dreaming.

“Please, I really need to go,” Kyungsoo is frowning and biting his lower lip, looking nervously toward what must be the stage entrance, and Jongin doesn’t question anything anymore as he takes the cellphone and enters his phone number. Kyungsoo probably wasn’t even supposed to be the one taking care of him backstage.

He surprisingly doesn’t hesitate before asking, “Can I get your autograph?”

Kyungsoo raises both eyebrows at him. “You… My autograph? Uh, sure? Quickly?”

He couldn’t help but ask before the other leaves to go back on stage.

Kyungsoo thus signs him a random piece of paper that was in one of Jongin’s jacket pockets. Even once he’s gone, Jongin can’t help but flush happily as he holds the piece of paper with Kyungsoo’s stylised initials close to his heart.

 

He’s left so confused and dumbfounded that when one of the staff members notices him staring at the bottle of water like it’s going to explain him why Kyungsoo is perfect, he blushes furiously and the staff member tells him it’d be better if he didn’t go back into the crowd. They can bring him to a seat further away from the scene instead, it’d be better, safer, especially if he wants to enjoy the rest of the concert.

His heart drops in his stomach and his lower lip juts out sadly, but he knows that the staff cannot take any chance with this. He gets up, makes sure he has everything with him – his cellphone, his wallet, the bottle of water, he cannot find his light stick – and then follows one of the staff members to a seated area further away from the stage.

He lost his light stick, but he can always buy another one, right?

 

The concert ends nicely (and later than it was supposed to) and Kyungsoo apologises profusely to his fans before giving his thanks and such. Some actually notice Jongin’s arrival, but most stay focused on the pretty boy on stage.

He prefers it that way. He’s glad he got to see the other. Once it’s all over he’s a bit sad, but that night he sleeps quite well.

Thoughts of Kyungsoo making it up to him are mainly what carry him to sleep. He hopes for more, but just enough that he can forget about all of this after a month if ever nothing happens. Which, let’s be honest, would be more likely than Kyungsoo actually contacting him to make it up to him.

Even so, Jongin hopes.

 

Life carries on and Jongin gets back into his daily routine fairly quickly. School sadly hasn’t disappeared, he has dance training and also enough homework to keep himself busy. The first few days leave him a bit confused: everything from this evening feels like a dream, from the beginning of the concert to him being invited on stage to his somewhat private and unplanned meeting with Kyungsoo.

He feels unsatisfied and empty at first, but eventually the contradictory feelings melt away and he can go back to watching D.O’s Instagram pictures without feeling too weirded out by all of this.

Funnily enough, the dissatisfaction and emptiness remind him of the feeling of missing someone.

It’s a bit as if he discovered he was incomplete for a moment, and then forcibly forgot he was ever missing a piece to begin with.

He doesn’t ponder too much over it. He cheers himself up by thinking that this was one of his greatest life experiences up to now – whatever Baekhyun, his so-called great friend, says.

 

He’s listening to a boring lecture in class when it happens.

He’s sitting at the far back of the room, the last desk of the row, when his cellphone suddenly starts vibrating and an embarrassing Girl’s Generation ringtone is resonating in the room. , he thinks, he forgot to turn it off, but who the hell would even call him at 16:13? His parents aren’t off from work yet and most of his friends are at school or training somewhere in something.

Is this something urgent? Has something bad happened to his dog? Or maybe it is just his mother telling him she got off work earlier? Maybe she’s sick?

He apologises to the disapproving teacher and, cheeks burning, hands trembling, turns off his cellphone. That should teach him not to leave it on his desk. Right before he turns it off, he notices that he doesn’t know the cellphone number displayed on the screen: unknown caller. He frowns, but he will wait for the class to end before calling back whoever called. Maybe it’s just a prank call though, or someone who dialed the wrong number.

Right beside him, Baekhyun looks at him with raised eyebrow, but he shakes his head to signal that it’s nothing important.

Only 47 minutes to go before he can call back – if he has the guts and cares enough to do so.

 

Time is sometimes a difficult thing to get a grasp of.

Unfortunately enough, too, it’s always when one is waiting for something that it seems to stretch on and on forever.

Jongin’s jittery leg almost has cramps at the end of the class. He thought he wasn’t really curious about the call, but something inside his head is making him hope for something.

For someone.

Right, for Kyungsoo to call and make it up to him, but that he won’t admit it to himself, because it just won’t happen, right?

Anticipation makes his fingers weak once he presses the return call button and he bites his lips in a nervous fashion as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line.

When nothing happens after almost two minutes of wait, he sighs and gives up.

Maybe it was just no one after all. He might as well go back home to study, Baekhyun’s already left for some singing practice anyway.

 

Jongin is playing a game on his computer when his cellphone’s screen lights up several times in a row. He blinks, frowns, then swears because in this very short unguarded moment, a player from the other team completely destroyed his mage.

He sighs loudly, maybe a bit overdramatically so, and then finally takes the time to unlock his screen to read the messages.

Unknown – xxxxxxxxxxxx

hey, it’s kyungsoo

d.o

i’m sorry it’s been so long

i saw you tried to call me back

sorry for that

This is all the texts say. Jongin’s heart is beating so fast right now, he has the impression it’ll come out of his chest. His hands are already clammy. He doesn’t know what to answer.

He knows how he wants to react. He wants to squeal, to text Baekhyun about it, he wants to be a fanboy about it. It feels, once more, as if he’s in that sweet dream, and it makes him wonder yet again if it isn’t just a prank from someone. How they would know all of this, he has no clue, but still.

He doesn’t know how to look alright and cool about it. He needs to look cool about it.

 

It takes him a while before he decides to answer.

And when he does, he tries to keep it short and sweet. It’ll probably help to limit his overflowing emotions that threaten to contaminate his texts. Eagerness. Hyperawareness. Joy.

kim jongin – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Hey

it’s ok, don’t worry about this really

After that, he doesn’t know if he should add anything. He doesn’t dare to. How are you? What are you doing? It all sounds dumb and invasive at the moment, even though these are pretty vague, normal introduction questions. There are so many things he’d like to ask, to know about his favorite idol ever, but…

But instead he keeps silent. It takes another 30 minutes before Jongin’s cellphone’s screen lights up again. As soon as his eyes catch that, he’s on it. His heart is beating wildly.

He can’t really believe this is happening right now.

And ah, he thinks, he should change this new… contact’s information. So he changes “unknown” to “Poro”. He’s a bit worried of what could happen if someone notices he has a contact named “Do Kyungsoo” or something similar on his cellphone. Poro, on the other hand… means a lot and nothing at the same time. He liked the show when he was a kid, and Kyungsoo used to cuddle or play with his Poro plushie when filming certain cover videos.

Poro – xxxxxxxxxxxx

are you doing anything next Tuesday night?

I’d like to make it up to you

Finally

He’s surprised at the other’s straightforwardness. Maybe it’s a good thing they are texting instead of talking on the phone. Jongin is pretty sure he’d stutter nonstop and probably would have let a few squeals escape him.

He hesitates for a long time before his fingers dare move on the screen. He blows some hair strands out of his field of vision.

kim jongin – xxxxxxxxxxxx

I’m free next Tuesday night

Where do you want to meet?

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t tell him right away where they should meet. Jongin supposes it’s because he needs to stay as far away as possible from the public eye and has to figure out a place, so he waits for an answer - quite eagerly, he has to admit.

Days pass by and next Tuesday night is fast approaching.

Meanwhile, the amateur dancer tries to focus on his studies as well as getting some sleep. You know, it’s good for the skin.

 

Jongin thought he was nervous and excited for the concert, but this is beyond everything else: he is going to meet up with D.O, his favorite singer. The closer the day, the wilder his dreams at night and the weirder his state of mind.

He has been a fan since the very beginning and always has had that fantasy of meeting the other in person, but he never thought it would truly happen. Who in their right mind would even imagine this would happen for real?

And yet, now it is happening and he’s panicking because he cannot find anything nice to wear. Nothing he has is nice enough, nothing he has is appropriate to meet Kyungsoo and for some reason his eyes cannot work out which colour fits what colour. He’s on the verge of crying when his cellphone starts ringing and he picks it up brusquely.

“Who is it”, he asks promptly, his breathing fast. He doesn’t have time to talk.

“I see someone is on the verge of a mental breakdown. Do you want me to come over?”

The voice on the other end is nasal and mocking. Baekhyun, of course. He’d told his friend and classmate about it the other day… maybe he shouldn’t have.

He whines pitifully. “Did you call me to mock me?”

Baekhyun sighs and Jongin can almost see him roll his eyes. “Yes, of course, I called to mock you since I knew you would probably have a crisis over meeting with D.O. No, come on, I called to know if you wanted me to help. If you needed some help,” he corrects helpfully.

“Help for what,” he moans. He wants to make it clear that he’s annoyed and doesn’t have much time before meeting the star. He wants to make it clear that he’s going to lose it.

“Help for your outfit, , what else could I even help you with”, says Baekhyun with a hint of laughter in his voice. “It’s hard enough keeping my mouth shut about you meeting D.O, I don’t think I should give you any advice on how to act with him. You’re awkward, but I’m sure my advices would make it worse.”

Jongin knows he shouldn’t have said a word about this to the other, but he isn’t entirely regretting it now. Baekhyun sometimes has enough common sense to keep his mouth shut. And sometimes enough common sense to still be a good friend of his.

“Okay, whatever, just come over,” sighs Jongin. He might as well use his friend well because anyway, alone, he isn’t getting anywhere at this point.

 

It’s only when he reaches and enters the small restaurant Kyungsoo texted him about that he realises he doesn’t know if he should find himself a seat or wait by the entrance. It’s raining a bit, but still, he could’ve stayed under the roof’s extension.

A waitress is walking toward him and by trying to avoid her gaze, he notices that the restaurant is mostly empty. Two tables are taken near the front windows by an elderly couple and two men, but beside that, the building appears vacant.

Did Kyungsoo know it would be this way? It might be why he choose this place after all, right?

It would be a good thing for Jongin to have no witnesses of his extreme awkwardness with the star, and it would be fantastic for Kyungsoo to maintain some sort of privacy.

The waitress is a middle-aged woman. She looks familiar and nice, she has a cute button nose and wrinkles that remind him of his own mother, but Jongin might just be wrong about the “nice” part.

“Hello, a seat for one person? Do you have a reservation?” She asks politely, smiling. Her voice is soft.

“U-uh, I’m waiting for someone, I don’t know if they’ve arrived…” He stutters a bit on his words. He wouldn’t dare giving any name.

Waiting for someone. Someone quite special at that.

What if the star never shows up?

“Alright, please follow me. I’ll bring you to a place for two. At the back?”

He nods hurriedly. He’ll text Kyungsoo to tell him he is already sitting at a table at the back of the restaurant with decorative walls hiding the spot…

 

Only when the waitress presents him with his seat, Kyungsoo is already sitting on a small cushion at the low table. “Hi”, he says as he gets up and bows lightly. Jongin is so shocked that he doesn’t even dare to sit down at first, entirely fixated on Kyungsoo’s fluffy black hair as he bows down.

When he notices Kyungsoo is looking at him with uncertainty on his face, he scrambles down to his seat and hits his shin hard in the process. Ouch. The waitress asks them if they want anything to drink, and Jongin only asks for water. Kyungsoo takes tea.

“H-Hi, uh, sorry, am I late?” He didn’t look at the time before entering the place and right now, he’s barely comprehending what’s happening. Kyungsoo is sitting right in front of him. His hair is a bit longer than at the concert and there is less gel in it too. He appears to be wearing lighter makeup – or is it just his natural skin? Either way, his looks are fair, just his type.

Just his type?

It’s weird. He never thought about Kyungsoo in such a way before. Never this straightforwardly at the very least.

After all, the other is supposed to only be an inspiration. Someone he admires for his hard work and talent, mostly.

“You’re not late, don’t worry. This restaurant is family-owned, that’s why I was able to make it a calm meeting place,” Kyungsoo starts, smiling at Jongin. The latter doesn’t know if it’s meant to be mocking or just amused and he feels his cheeks become redder and hotter. And he knows that even if his skin is darker than Kyungsoo’s, it’ll show.

Just like he knows his stress is very noticeable at the moment.

Meeting his idol in such a private context is…

“Thank you for coming, by the way. I admit I was a bit scared of doing this, meeting with a fan and whatnot. It’s not exactly… simple. Rumors are born easily. You could’ve leaked the information to anyone in the fandom. It’s a good thing I’m not as popular as the next actor at the moment.”

Extraordinary. Distressingly so.

And hearing Kyungsoo say this makes his chest hurt. He feels bad, and yet. He told Baekhyun, and it’s a bit weird to think an artist would take such risks for a fan that he met only once before… How did he even know Jongin would be nice enough to keep his mouth shut about this?

He didn’t know. He just went ahead with his desire to make it up to Jongin. The amateur dancer can at the very least figure that much out. He highly doubts Kyungsoo’s manager told him to do that for a random fan, even for the sake of a nice reputation.

He honestly is touched by his intention. He thinks he can confidently state that Kyungsoo isn’t a hidden jackass for now. It makes his heart flutter in a weird way. More and more.

He his lips nervously – they’re getting dry and drier. Earlier he put on some lip balm, but clearly it’s not doing anything anymore. He’s not entirely satisfied with his outfit, but Baekhyun helped a lot. He’s grateful, sincerely grateful to his friend.

His thoughts were on fire and without the other, he doesn’t think he’d have felt as confident as now in his outfit. He doesn’t have a lot of confidence, but it’s better than if he’d continued to panic alone.

He’s wearing some washed-out grey jeans that actually look pretty stylish on his lean, long legs, as well as a dark beige sweater. Somehow, Baekhyun thought this colour would create a nice contrast with his dark skin. To Jongin’s never-ending surprise, he was right.

Maybe Baekhyun should become a stylist or something.

Also, his hair is still the same bleached, silvery blond thanks to some hair treatment he bought to keep the warmer tones away, but his dark roots are showing more and more. He really should do something about it.

As for Kyungsoo, he’s wearing some dark sweatshirt and… pants of an unknown colour. They’re sitting after all and he won’t peer underneath the table just to get a look. For now. And glasses. He hadn’t even realised the other was wearing glasses at first.

He was so anxious when Kyungsoo stood up earlier that he didn’t register what the other was wearing. At all.

“So, yes. I was a bit worried about inviting you, but here we are,” finishes Kyungsoo. Poor him, he doesn’t know how far in his head Jongin was gone.

“Oh, yeah, true…” He’s so lame sometimes. “I mean, uh- can I ask you a question?”

He’s dying to know why Kyungsoo insisted so much to make it up to him and maybe he should make some efforts to look invested and interested in their conversation – not that he isn’t.

He’s just… distracted.

“Yes, of course,” answers Kyungsoo. Meanwhile, the waitress is back with their beverages and takes their order. Kyungsoo asks for some soup and Jongin, for some chicken. He really needs to stop eating all that chicken. It’s not that good for him, and certainly not good at all for the chicken.

He saw a documentary about meat, egg and milk production the other day and it wasn’t very joyful.

When they’re alone again, he tries to find his words.

“I’m… why did you want to make it up to me so much?”

He might as well be honest about what he wants to know.

Kyungsoo looks a bit surprised yet not so much at the same time. Jongin waits, expecting.

“Since when are you a fan?”

He didn’t think Kyungsoo would fire a question back at him. It was so unexpected that he answers without thinking, “it’s been 4 years. I mean – since your first song cover.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shoot up. “Then, how much do you like me?”

Jongin believes this inquiry is a bit too much and a bit odd. Is it a trap?

But… he still wants to answer.

“You’re… honestly?”

Kyungsoo nods. For some reason, his expression is dead serious at the moment. Expecting, similarly to Jongin’s own expression a few seconds ago.

“You’re my inspiration to dance. You’re my inspiration to follow what I want and… I’m really happy to be your fan.”

Kyungsoo looks satisfied with the answer, there’s a smile spreading somewhat shyly on his thick lips – but then he shakes his head. It looks like he’s searching for more. “No, I mean - how much do you like me?”

Jongin is honestly confused. He’s also blushing profusely.

If Kyungsoo really wants to know, then…

“I don’t know you. I – I’m just a fan. But I… really, really like you. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but… I’d like to have the opportunity to get to know you better.”

This is all he finds to say, but it means a lot to him. It’s cheesy, but it’s authentic, he believes. He wonders just how much it’ll in turn mean to Kyungsoo, who already has enough fans that Jongin isn’t anything special at all. And he’s a boy. So it’s weird, complicated and disappointing all at once to take all of these facts into account.

At the same time, he’s beginning to feel weirdly hopeful. He definitely shouldn’t. Maybe it’s because he feels as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

Kyungsoo appears to be considering him, what to do and what to say. Maybe he doesn’t want to be too harsh?

A minute or two tick by and it’s way too long to Jongin’s liking.

Then, Kyungsoo leans in. Jongin feels his heart stop.

Plush lips find the skin of his left cheek, and time stops.

He gets a whiff of freshness and spices. He can feel the heat emanating from the other because of their sudden, shared proximity. It feels nice. Thrilling yet soothing.

He’s never even dreamt of this. Nothing about this is logical or even probable.

But it happened nonetheless.

Kyungsoo sits back just in time, for the waitress shows up with their main dishes. Jongin thanks her softly, eyes averted to the table, cheeks burning. He can still feel the kiss. The skin there stings more than the rest of his face. He’s hyperaware, a bit as if Kyungsoo had smeared lipstick on his cheek by kissing him there, but it’s now nothing more than a secret between the two of them.

No one else will know that Kyungsoo’s lips brushed against his cheekbone in an intimate way.

 

They don’t exchange any word for a few minutes.

Then, Kyungsoo takes the lead. Jongin is relieved because he thinks Kyungsoo owes him a few explanations. There was something… special about that kiss on the cheek. Peculiar. Somehow, it didn’t feel fake.

He doesn’t know what to anticipate.

“I’d like to meet up with you again. If you don’t mind.”

These few words can mean many, many different things, but Jongin didn’t think that’s what he’d hear from the other.

“You… want us to meet up again”, he asks in disbelief. Kyungsoo simply nods, a happy expression on his lips. He looks a bit embarrassed and unsure too. It’s a bit like he’s revealing himself more and more. Does it make sense to say that when it’s only their second meeting?

There are various possible hidden meanings behind his invitation to see each other again.

Jongin wonders if he’s the only one to see something romantic in this.

 

As he lies in his bed that night, he examines everything that happened today. He thinks back everything he said, everything he heard, wondering if he was and is crazy enough that he imagined all of this, distorting meanings and gestures. He wonders, too – what if everything that happened is real and Kyungsoo truly asked him… out, in a way?

They talked a bit more after the kiss on the cheek, made small-talk as Kyungsoo finished his soup. Jongin wished they had more time, but at least they exchanged more than formalities and awkward silences. It’s nice, he thinks.

Then, Kyungsoo had to go. He didn’t rush his goodbyes though, and asked Jongin to text him once he gets home.

So Jongin stayed a bit more, ate his plate, and walked to the counter to pay. Then the waitress smiled and told him that everything had been payed for.

He went back home, strange flutters in his stomach not leaving him alone all evening.

Now, he’s trying to calm down, but sleep isn’t coming to him easily.

He texted Kyungsoo to thank him and he didn’t get an answer yet, so it’s making him restless.

 

He doesn’t know how many minutes pass by before his cellphone dings and the screen lights up the entire room. Instantly, he grabs his cellphone.

Poro – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Actually

Thank you for showing up

It was a nice evening

Are you free Thursday night in two weeks?

Jongin smiles as he closes his eyes. He can see stars behind his eyelids – he’s happy.

 

Thank you a lot for reading, for giving it a chance. 

Constructive criticism is always welcome - I'm on a quest to become a better writer and feedback is always a good thing. 
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Second part will be up soon after I check some stuff in it!!