Did Jongin say he was happy?

As a matter of fact, yes, he did. Or, at the very least, he had thought so to himself after his first proper meeting with D.O, his favourite singer ever.

Is he taking back his words now? Yes, he is taking back his words (or thoughts, whatever) because he isn’t joyful at all at the moment: he’s sulking. In class. He’s feeling unsatisfied and bothered and annoyed and restless and frustrated and anything else coming relatively close to these gloomy qualifying adjectives.

In his defense, all of these really do apply to describe everything he is feeling at once.

And he definitely has all the good, valid reasons in the world to be brooding right now, whatever his so-called great friend Baekhyun has to say about it.

The older gives him the same speech every morning and afternoon every day at school and has been doing so for the past two weeks. It’s getting repetitive and disheartening, because each time he’s reminded of how Kyungsoo doesn’t have time for him.

Kyungsoo, a fantastic Korean singer with a voice made of the purest melting honey and with looks to die for.

Him, a random fan to whom Kyungsoo just wanted to make it up to after causing him to faint and get a nosebleed on stage and backstage.

How inconceivable is that even to begin with?

“Come on, you know very well that he’s busy, you almost know his schedule for the next three weeks by heart and he’s a normal human, for God’s sake! And he’s still texting you-”

Jongin wants to argue that Kyungsoo isn’t just a normal human and that texting someone doesn’t always mean much, but he refrains from saying so to his friend and instead proceeds to slump over his desk, huffing in an unconvinced, pitiful way. Baekhyun rolls his eyes and pops a mint in his mouth, offering one to Jongin. He, albeit begrudgingly so, takes it.

The singer is active on a TV show, has had more small concerts, fan meetings and such. And still, he’s answering to Jongin’s texts even if sometimes it takes him hours to do so.

He’s always careful to ask his younger fan if he ate and slept enough that day, and often wishes him good luck with school and dance practice.

Jongin is also starting to believe all the butterflies that have found refuge in his stomach for the past weeks are slowly but surely killing him. You’d think one would develop some sort of immunity over time, but it obviously isn’t Jongin’s case.

He really can’t handle all the inconsistent feelings continually assailing his thoughts. One moment he feels like he is in a bubble of warmth and luck and the next, dark clouds are hovering above his head to remind him of how unlikely it is that he will get to know the singer better.

And as much as he doesn’t want to be selfish about all of this, he finds himself wishing more and more often that he was important to the other.

“I know he’s busy, but like, I mean-”

It’s then that Jongin and Baekhyun both realise class has started and the teacher is waiting for them to stop talking, clearing as a warning sign of the consequences to come. She even has a hand on her cocked hip: right now, no one could interpret that body language as anything else than exasperation.

Jongin abstains from reacting and thus embarrassing himself even more. He sinks further into his seat, and so does Baekhyun.

Isn’t he already lucky enough that ing Do Kyungsoo, idol and singer, is actually answering his texts? Isn’t he asking for the moon by expecting anything more?

He shouldn’t be complaining so much.

As the teacher finally starts explaining the day’s order, his mind starts wandering again.

The first, main, biggest “practical” reason to Jongin’s moping is that he only saw Kyungsoo once more after that fateful evening at the restaurant, and it was on that full of promise, poetically texted “Thursday night in two weeks”.

(There was nothing truly poetic about that text, but Jongin likes to think Kyungsoo’s very texts could be special in themselves. He screenshotted a few of his conversations, too, but often ended up deleting the pictures later on because he doesn’t want anyone to find anything problematic on his cellphone. You know, just in case.)

Since then, exactly a whole month has passed. This means 31 days of not seeing Kyungsoo and mostly texting meaningless things to each other – hi, how are you, what have you eaten today? – and exactly fourteen days of actively complaining to Baekhyun.

Jongin is just so done with this. (And he feels particularly whiny today.)

On one hand, it’s true that they are still texting each other. It’s an amazing thing considering Jongin was only a fan amongst many others.

But on the other hand, it is becoming incredibly stressful to wait for Jongin doesn’t know if anything, good or bad, will come out of this. He actually has no clue if anything at all will come out of this weakly weaved relationship of sorts.

He doesn’t know what they are to each other and, as he’d confessed to the idol on their first real meeting, he’d like to get to know him better.

And that “Thursday night in two weeks” date, or rather, meet-up, was nice. Dreamy, even. No problem there.

They’d met at a local park. Jongin didn’t think it’d be safe for the idol, but apparently this particular park was mostly frequented by old couples and cyclists who, presumably, would be unaware of Kyungsoo’s idol identity and popularity.

So they had made an appointment for 6 pm.

Kyungsoo arrived past 6.30 pm, but Jongin hadn’t really minded the singer’s slight lateness. After all, the air was warm and dry enough that he wasn’t too cold or too hot. The weather forecast had announced a clear sky for the entire evening and into the night, so Jongin had decided on a nice long sleeve marine sweater and black skinny jeans for the outing.

His hair was now dyed brown: at his mother’s suggestion (read: insistence) and Baekhyun’s approval of his mother’s influence.

The singer could thus easily be excused of his tardiness, especially considering he possibly had schedules to attend to during the day.

And while waiting for the other to appear, he’d listened to some music, looking around and sitting alone on a somewhat secluded bench.

As promised, Jongin only saw pairs of old people and, yes, cyclists going through the park’s various sand or asphalt paths. There was also a small family of three picnicking under the ever fading shade of a tree, but that was about it.

And for once while thinking of Kyungsoo, he didn’t feel anxious.

The power of music, probably.

He was listening to some new song – from a group called K.A.R.D, or something like that, he wasn’t even sure – when a pair of feet in black sneakers appeared in front of him. Then legs clad in black jeans, and then a torso hidden under a black sweater appeared too, following suit.

There was, from what he could see, a lot of black.

Only the mop of hair wasn’t its usual black mess.

“Ohmygod, your hair.”

It seemed Kyungsoo got a brand new haircut: his hair was dyed a dark red with a black side-cut, and somehow, it suddenly unveiled itself as the thing Jongin never knew he needed and wanted in his life. If the all-black outfit was a bit dull in itself, the fiery red of Kyungsoo’s wild strands of hair certainly added some interesting action to the whole picture.

And it somewhat defeated the purpose of being dressed in boring black to avoid any unnecessary attention, but, oh well. Jongin won’t be the one opposing this fashion choice, whoever decided on it.

After all, it gave the singer such a deliciously sharp appearance, and he probably got it on this very day for Jongin hadn’t seen any picture of Kyungsoo sporting this hairstyle and colours before.

And then Jongin’s palms started sweating in abundance as the scene of his reaction to the other’s new looks played in his head, as if inked on the inside of his retina. He winced, his stomach twisting a bit. Fanboy much.

He had even lifted a hand to his mouth to stifle a gasp of surprise when he saw the other.

That certainly didn’t help him in trying to look composed and, well, relatively normal.

And the singer was then smiling at him, scratching at the back of his head with hesitation oozing off him in waves. For some reason, he looked a bit unsure asking, “You like it, uh?”

Maybe unsure about said noticeable, striking haircut.

“Y-yeah. Just, forget my… reaction. But - it’s nice. It suits you well.” Jongin felt a bit like an idiot at that moment. No self-restrain whatsoever, even after meeting Kyungsoo more than once before and texting him for a few weeks. “It’s very… new, different?” Granted, they never dived into complex subjects just by texting and they’d only met twice, but it’s not like they were complete stranger.

(Only maybe they almost were?)

Still, Kyungsoo had nodded and smiled in a more carefree way, as if actually relieved Jongin had promptly approved of the physical transformation.

And that was how their second official meet-up had begun.

They’d later taken advantage of the peaceful quality of the park to discuss more freely; then, further into the evening, had walked to a small, almost vacant café to buy some snacks and talk some more.

Jongin had learned Kyungsoo wasn’t very good at school or anything mathematics, and also that he wished to do more acting through his career.

Jongin had tried to keep his words and explanations simple about himself, though he’d told Kyungsoo more about his love for dancing and that time he saw a ballerina show as a kid.

They were well into the night when Kyungsoo had bidden Jongin goodbye with a sincere looking smile and a hand wave telling of more meeting opportunities to come.

Somehow, exchanging words with the older became… almost easy.

But for now, back to the present: the teacher is presenting theoretical content at the front of the class and Jongin is oh so lost because he hasn’t been listening for the past minutes. No, instead, he has been reliving memories and emotions involving Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo and, ah, again Kyungsoo. Baekhyun is poking his shoulder, probably because he noticed the other wasn’t paying attention to the class.

(He’s not really one to talk, though.)

Despondence draws yet another sigh from the amateur dancer. He might as well continue to ponder on life because in addition to all of this he still doesn’t know what, of himself, sparked interest in Do Kyungsoo. And just what kind of interest, anyway?

 

Another month passes by.

Jongin has been dealing easily (that’s what it looks like, at least) with the lack of interactions and news from Kyungsoo. The latter has been incredibly busy. It’s not that he doesn’t text Jongin at all, but they have no time to spare on more meaningful conversations.

Baekhyun has stopped his daily speeches and instead settles for asking questions when he deems it’s been long enough Jongin has said anything about the idol he admires.

As for the younger, he doesn’t bother answering Kyungsoo too quickly, nor texting him too much. At times it downright hurts in his chest at night as he clings to his cellphone in his bed, longing for something, anything coming from the idol – and then he sometimes get an answer, another hello to his own simple text, and his chest feels a lot lighter.

And sometimes he also gets nothing, nothing at all to hold on to when he feels he needs it the most, and his chest just continues hurting through the night.

Today is one of these days where things just don’t feel right and don’t go right.

Today is one of these days where his thoughts are a puddle of pessimistic wordings and memories and his body, even if immensely tired, is a cage, a prison where he can’t be anything but uncomfortable. He hasn’t received anything from Kyungsoo in two days, but it’s not the only thing currently weighing down on him.

His morning and afternoon were filled with exams and even though he usually enjoys dance practice as a way-out, today his limbs were heavy and uncoordinated. He kept making uncharacteristic mistakes, slowed down the learning process of the whole choreography for everyone, and couldn’t even enjoy his supper for he felt too queasy and stressed to dare put anything in his mouth.

And now, he can’t even sleep. His stomach is hurting, contorting and cramping, and still he’s truly hungry, but he’s just tossing in his bed trying to find a position that would help him feel more relaxed, even just a bit. Dark thoughts are creeping up from the deepest corners of his mind to remind him of how useless and unprecise his dreams are, of how baseless his efforts are, for Jongin is nothing but a delusional boy with ideas that won’t lead anywhere he should be.

He’s a boring, selfish, stupid teen with dreams and demands that reach as high as the moon, but is he really even deserving to fulfill such wishes?

He’s not a depressed boy per se, but as much as he has fire and motivation for the things and the people he loves in general, there’s a downside to everything. He can’t always keep up with the rhythm of life. It’s tiring to be a student: expectations can crash down on you from where you least expect it.

One can never be well all the time.

And he doesn’t always know if the happier days weigh more than the sadder days, especially when he is choking up on even the things that bring him joy.

All of the self-hatred he can ignore or temper on good days is oh so close of convincing him to just give up.

Give up, for it serves nothing to be alive knowing your dreams are foolish and won’t serve anything or anyone but yourself.

Give up, for it also serves nothing to be alive if you’re only going to be a nobody who will disappear each day a little bit more in front of a computer screen, should you decide to not follow your dreams.

There are no good answers and it makes him panic, deep down inside.

He is genuinely about to start weeping in front of his dimly light cellphone screen. He hasn’t been able to find anything to distract himself from this invisible self-harm; his mind is so drained yet troubled, he’s hoping in vain for the time numbers on his mobile to bring him closer to sleep one minute at the time.

And, fortunately or not, that is when it happens.

His cellphone chimes, the sound of a new, very real notification. He doesn’t react at first, but eventually a long-suffering sigh leaves his mouth and he moves. Even just this is a lot.

His eyes find his cellphone screen: new message from Poro.

Should he ignore it?

Or should he read the message at the very least?

Almost instantaneously, his hands begin to tremble and he, with great uncertainty, unlocks his cellphone. The pulse of his heart is now stronger and faster against the walls of his veins, reminding him of how unwell he feels. (Everything is reminding him of this, in all honesty.) He is biting, nibbling at his lower lip, hard enough that he draws blood.

The burn is welcome, as is the weak taste of iron on his teeth. He rolls over to lie on his back, squinting at the screen and waiting for his cellphone to load the texting application. He thinks he is confusion itself at the moment, unable to say if he is happy or annoyed because of the actually much awaited message.

It turns out it’s a bit more than what he was secretly hoping for.

 

Poro – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Hey, Jongin, it’s Kyungsoo

 

(Jongin finds it funny that Kyungsoo wrote his name, but he might as well not comment everything the other writes.)

 

I’m sorry I haven’t been answering much

I hope you’ve been okay, I just finished a part of the promotions

Maybe we could meet up soon? I might be able to find a hole or an opportunity in the next weeks

 

These words don’t make everything better, but Jongin feels a bit warmer instead of cold and utterly empty inside. He has that fleeting thought that Kyungsoo didn’t have to answer him, didn’t have to act so considerate toward him, and it makes him wonder, yet again, if he’ll ever know more about Kyungsoo’s real opinion of him.

Nobody would believe him were he to expose his story on social medias. Or maybe some would take his words for what they are, the truth, but it would still look like a very cliché fan-crushing-on-a-cute-idol kind of story.

He doesn’t know if the other will answer now that he texted all of this. Maybe he decided to go to sleep straight away after writing to the amateur dancer, but Jongin decides on writing back to the other right this instant. He has nothing else to do.

He needs to.

 

Jongin – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Hey, Kyungsoo

It’s okay, don’t feel bad for being busy, come on

Hope you’re fine too, well not saying I’m feeling fantastic at the moment

But you know

Maybe we could meet up soon yeah?

 

He tries not to look too eager nor too grouchy. He’s not shivering in anticipation like usual though, because he’s a bit jaded, still stuck in his self-induced suffering.

 

Poro – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Would be nice

But what’s wrong? Did something happen?

 

It’s quite rare that they actively text back like that. Jongin is a bit disconcerted to be asked what’s wrong.

Granted, it’s his fault for being a bit too obvious about his stress.

He then knows he’ll probably be asking for too much, maybe even look like he’s asking for attention, but his heart is heavy and… he just wants someone to talk to. The only reason he’s not texting Baekhyun about this instead is that he already complained a lot today, and he feels bad for it.

Kyungsoo just had not to text him. Whatever. His fault. (Even though he couldn’t know.)

 

Jongin – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Nothing much, just… exam day

Dance practice was ty, I was ty

I’m feeling sick and honestly I’m not sure pursuing professional dancing is a bright thing to do

But beside that, I guess it’s okay

 

Each time he presses send, he doesn’t dare reread his own texts. He tried to keep some sarcasm to his words, but it’s just a façade. He’s going to embarrass himself and to regret it in about, what, two minutes?

And two minutes it is for Jongin’s regret to set in deep into his bones, for it seems Kyungsoo isn’t answering anymore.

He wants to throw his cellphone and hide under his blankets and whine, but alas, he can’t. So he waits.

And he really is on the verge of a panic attack when, suddenly, his cellphone starts ringing.

Not just one chime: it’s ringing. Someone’s calling him, and when he sees the number on the screen, he feels the blood drain out of his face.

Kyungsoo’s the one calling him. Many interrogations emerge suddenly in his head, but the main one is – why is he calling me?

At that very moment, he wishes he wasn’t alone in his room. He’d like to turn around and ask Baekhyun, for example, what the he is supposed to do. But Baekhyun isn’t here and if he starts screaming, his mother will barge into his room in the next thirty seconds without a doubt. And maybe screaming won’t solve much of his problems. Also, Baekhyun would probably be more of an than a guy giving good advice.

He can picture him smiling mockingly, his arms crossed over his chest and chewing on some candy, just shrugging at Jongin’s problems. Sometimes his best friend is helpful, sometimes not.

So he takes in a big gulp of air, releases it slowly through his nostrils, and presses answers.

“Y-Yeah?”

He tried to come off as cool or just sleepy cool, but it didn’t quite work. His voice is scratchy, rough from all the suppressed sobs and the bile grating the inside of his neck.

“Jongin? Sorry, I know we don’t really call each other, but I wanted to talk a bit, if you don’t mind?”

No, they don’t really call each other; as a matter of fact, they never call each other.

Jongin doesn’t know what to expect. It feels a bit as if he is on the edge of something and cannot see further: is he going to fall or is there solid ground upon which he can lay another foot?

“I – no, I mean, I don’t mind, it’s fine. What is it?”

He hears some rustling on the other end. Maybe Kyungsoo is in his bed, moving around, or just walking from point A to point B while talking to him.

“I was just wondering, uh, are you really okay?” He notices the stronger intonation on the really. Maybe his texts shouldn’t have been this… truthful. Descriptive of his current state of mind. Although, in his defense, they didn’t give away that much, did they?

He feels bad. And before he knows it, his eyes are burning. He blinks numerous times in a row, as if doing this will somehow help in making the tears recede and disappear.

He won’t cry while having Kyungsoo, who is supposed to be his favorite idol and the one constantly giving him new butterflies in the stomach, on the phone.

“I’m- I’m okay, seriously, I’m just really tired and the day was ty and – I’m sorry. I don’t want to ramble to you, so…” So please, don’t ask me what’s wrong.

He’s trying so hard to keep his voice intact and to refrain from sniffing loudly.

There’s silence, and then:

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk to me. But you know – correct me if I’m assuming the wrong stuff, you can… confide in me, I guess. And maybe, sometimes, your dreams will appear as unattainable or kinda stupid – but it doesn’t mean you cannot make it work or that it isn’t all worth the try, okay?”

Jongin feels shock echoing through him. Shock, anger, but also… something closer to gratefulness, maybe.

Tears start making their way down his cheeks. He gives up on holding it all in.

It to be this sensitive today, but he really feels like . His head is hanging low and he’s keeping the cellphone close to his ear. He doesn’t find it in himself to answer, although he believes he should thank Kyungsoo for the encouragement.

This guy didn’t have to call him in the middle of the night just to try and comfort him. This guy really didn’t have to answer to his texts in the middle of the night just to wish him well and ask him how he is doing.

(This guy, who, if he was more honest with himself, is becoming more and more of a romantic crush – and that’s a real problem. Especially since they never talked about that kiss on the cheek. It’s almost as if it didn’t happen.)

Since he doesn’t answer anymore, Kyungsoo seems to take it as his cue to continue. Maybe he noticed Jongin was crying, too. Awkward.

“You know, Jongin, I haven’t seen your dancing, I haven’t met your family, but I know you have true passion for what you do.”

He bites his lower lip, hard, and like earlier, can taste sweet blood on his tongue.

“I think – even if you’re good at dancing, you cannot always be good at it. And you said you felt sick today – and you just went through a day of exams. Give yourself a chance.”

He almost feels as if he is getting lectured. It can be incredibly infuriating to be told to give yourself a chance, give your passion a chance, because no, no, no, he doesn’t have the time to give himself a chance and take it easy and all that . He wants to scream at the other, in some way, that he doesn’t truly know Kim Jongin and his matters and that Jongin doesn’t really know Do Kyungsoo and his personal matters, but at the same time, the other’s low, soothing and familiar voice is a salve on his bruised heart.

He really wants to keep the sobs in, but it’s getting more and more difficult to be subtle. Kyungsoo definitely noticed by now, if the way in which he starts to talk again, more softly, is any indication.

“I’m just – I know I probably sound full of myself, or unoriginal, and I know we don’t know each other that much, but I called because I really needed you to know that you can talk to me, alright?”

Jongin breathes in, and out. In, and out again.

“And it’s okay to be terrible. To be sick, too. About that, make sure you get some rest, hm?”

In the end, Kyungsoo is so sweet to him that the amateur dancer can’t believe he somehow didn’t already know Jongin beforehand.

You don’t just see someone for the first time (read: a fan you caused to faint during one of your songs) and decide to be all nice and friendly to them. There must be something else to this.

And Jongin really tries to gather his courage and his voice, if only to answer one more time, because now silence is stretching out thin.

“I’m… sorry, Kyungsoo. I’m so sorry. Thank you.” He has to keep it short. He doesn’t know how to word, to phrase anything else at the moment, and his chest is hurting again. But he feels, if only the tiniest bit, lighter.

Lighter, and as much as his eyes feel puffy, his eyelids are starting to feel heavy. Something happened, magic, maybe. He isn’t sure what exactly was the necessary thing for his mind and body to suddenly understand that they are tired, but now he knows he wants to sleep.

“It’s alright, Jongin. I know calling was a bit too much, but I just… needed to make sure you would be okay.”

The unsaid words remain, yes, unsaid: Jongin won’t necessarily be okay because Kyungsoo called him and gave him something akin to a pep talk, but the intention is still there, very present and palpable and just nice in Jongin’s eyes.

And to his heart, too.

“I-… thank you. I’m sorry, I’ll be going to sleep now.” It’s not in Jongin’s habits to cut it short, but he needs it at the moment. He thinks Kyungsoo will understand.

He hopes so.

“It’s okay. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll do so too. Have some interview in the morning, but, give me a few days and I can find us a meeting date. Oh- Wait.” Jongin doesn’t know why, but he’s seeing Kyungsoo smiling in his head. Maybe because of the happier quality of his voice. (Maybe he knows Jongin will be able to sleep.) He hums, confirming to Kyungsoo that he is still listening.

“Are you willing to meet me late, tomorrow night? We could go to the movies. I know a quiet place. Around 11 pm or later?”

It’s late and it means he’ll have to be out in the city alone, but…

“… Sure. Text me where it is?”

“Will do so.”

He breathes in and out deeply. His fingers are numb around the cellphone.

“Alright. Kyungsoo… thank you. Good night.”

He hangs up.

For the following minutes, he just stares at his lifeless phone in his hands, on his knees. His head is still hanging down and trails of saltwater are still drying on his cheekbones, but still, he feels a bit better.

A bit.

And tomorrow, he’s going to meet Kyungsoo again.

 

The next morning, Jongin still feels like but in a different way. Shivers are creeping up along his spine even though his pyjama shirt is sticking hard to his burning skin and the inside of his throat is tingling. In addition to that, his stomach is so empty it hurts.

And yet, hunger is a very vague, undefined feeling at the moment. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to eat breakfast.

At least, he can now confirm to himself that yes, he is sick as in physically sick. It probably is some kind of weird flu.

So he turns around in his bed, his head spinning a bit as he does so. He grabs his cellphone laying on the small desk beside the bed, huffing at the nonetheless simple effort. He frowns at the device he’s now holding, drops it on his face once, and then finally manages to unlock its screen with clumsy fingers. He can’t tell yet if he’s still feeling sad or if he’s really happier today, so he settles on the descriptive neutral to define his present state of mind.

The corner of his lips goes up ever so slightly when he sees that Kyungsoo texted him good night after the call.

It’s nice of him.

(And he tells himself that the weird somersault his heart does at the attention is nothing important enough to take into account. He conveniently ignores it altogether.)

It’s a fortunate thing that he managed to get some sleep. He didn’t think he’d be able to afford any with his very low mood and angry stomach and all the tossing around in bed, but he can definitely say he slept like a log through the rest of the dark hours.

With how stiff his limbs have become overnight though, he might as well just stay in. The idea of cuddling to his blankets and pillows is a marvellous one. He knows it means he’ll have to cancel a meet-up with his two older sisters and their kids, but it would probably be better for everyone this way. He’s just a bit sad he won’t get to see their dogs.

Meanwhile, he wants to text Kyungsoo.

 

Jongin – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Good morning

I’m sad because I have fever and my throat is hurting :( :( :(((

Please do something about it

No ok I’m joking a bit

Just a bit though

Also sorry again for yesterday, thank you again

What’s the place for tonight?

 

He doesn’t use a lot of emojis with the singer (self-control, you know), but somehow it feels right to include some when he types his messages this morning.

He just feels like exchanging easy, natural words with the other, especially after what happened last night.

He’s changing into a new shirt (and new boxers) when his cellphone chimes. It startles him on the spot and he almost falls as he is trying to slide a foot through his underwear’s hole, but luckily, no one’s here to catch that.

He’s still dizzy and unsteady on his feet, so there’s that.

He grabs his cellphone.

 

Poro – xxxxxxxxxxxx

I really can’t do much about that

Try to get some rest will you?

And stop saying sorry

It makes me want to hit you

I helped because I wanted to

Well

I hope I helped

?

Anyway here’s the address: ___________

 

He smiles. Gosh, this is so awkward. But still, Kyungsoo appears to become more at ease with him.

He is… starting to miss him. In a physical way? Without it being explicitly physical – it’s more about Kyungsoo’s presence and voice than any kind of proximity, really.

It’s about being able to share words and emotions with him. It’s about enjoying getting to know him better.

It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other. The young singer said he would probably be able to find them anoter date soon, but Jongin feels his fingers itch with the need to ask the other again even if they’re supposed to meet tonight.

Can we see each other soon?

(He doesn’t want to admit this either, but he feels closer to Kyungsoo now that they had a talk such as yesterday’s one. Beside the fact that he’s also incredibly still embarrassed.)

And he’s curious about Kyungsoo’s interest in him.

Very, very curious.

 

Jongin – xxxxxxxxxxxx

You helped gosh don’t worry about that…

Also

You said yesterday maybe you could find us another meeting date soon?

 

He just writes – that. He doesn’t want to press too much and too far.

Soon enough, the other answers.

 

Poro – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Yeah

I have fewer schedules starting next week so

There should be a good time for us to meet?

I mean beside tonight

 

Jongin – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Alright then

Also

Have a good day

I think I’ll go back to sleep for now haha

I’m dying

 

He just crawls back in his bed. He could’ve showered, but changing clothes at least gives him a new impression of freshness on his skin. It doesn’t feel as sticky or dirty as before.

 

Poro – xxxxxxxxxxxx

Rest well

And have a good day too? Thank you

Talk to you later Jongin

Will text you when I get there

Bye

 

He’s smiling when he finally puts down his phone on the desk again. Outside the sky is clear and sun, high up in the sky, but Jongin pulls the covers and creates himself a dark, comforting cocoon. His eyelids are heavy and soon enough, he’s drifting off to sleep.

 

He’s a bit feverish when he wakes up around dinner time. Still, he goes down and finds some rice and side dishes his mother left for him with a sweet note. She went to his room while he was sleeping and is out with some friends from work, but she still took the time to cook him something light.

He adores her.

He eats a bit. Then, he just lies around in his bedroom, watching some videos on his cellphone. He has homework, but his head is hurting and he just doesn’t want to do anything complicated before meeting Kyungsoo at the theater. He’ll find a way to deal with everything later.

 

It turns out the cinema is a really small independent one, and not the kind families and large groups of friends would go to.

And Jongin realises each time a little bit more that idols such as Kyungsoo have their own tactics to go out and enjoy life. They know where to go and when – probably learned through trials and mistakes. It’s a good thing Kyungsoo isn’t a superstar.

He doesn’t find it in himself to dress very nicely; he’s shivering and sweating because of his cold, so he just makes sure to wear comfortable sweatpants and a big hoodie. And for once, when he gets there past 11 pm, Kyungsoo is already waiting for him.

And wearing sunglasses. Ok, this isn’t exactly something that goes unnoticed at night when everything is dark, but whatever. Jongin shrugs it off in favor of focusing on the movie choices. And definitely not on Kyungsoo’s cute, awkward smile.

“How’s your throat?”

Truthfully, his throat still hurts and even though he took some fever medication he’s still lightheaded. But, he still said yes to Kyungsoo. "Oh, I’m okay. Yeah. Totally.”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at him – are his cheeks red or something?

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Jongin nods promptly, trying to wave off Kyungsoo’s concern. “Yeah, it’ll be fine. Is there a movie you wanted to see?”

They settle on a foreign suspense movie and not even thirty minutes into it, Jongin can say that it certainly won’t be his favourite of the year. The characters are bland and, well, the acting turns him off for some reason he can’t explain.

And about an hour in, he’s sleeping soundly. He doesn’t know of it, but it’s Kyungsoo’s shoulder that serves as a cushion to his head.

The idol noticed the younger nodding off as the film continued, but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t dupe enough to overlook the fact that Jongin was sick; and when the student’s head finally pressed against him, he just made sure the other wasn’t twisting his neck too hard because of the awkward position.

He says nothing, making sure not to disturb the other. He just wakes him up when the lights go on and makes sure he looks alright before letting him go.

Jongin is embarrassed to have fallen asleep, but at least, he has the excuse of being sick.

 

It takes a few days before Jongin receives any news of Kyungsoo regarding their next meeting, but eventually the other he has a timing to offer. (Deliver the damn ransom! Or not. Because it’s just about seeing each other and casually enjoying each other’s company. Yeah.)

They agree to meet at Kyungsoo’s family’s restaurant again. It will be the second time they meet there; the first time they ate there was on their first official meeting.

And it was so painfully awkward and stiff between them that Jongin can only hope it goes better this evening.

They’ve been texting each other for a few months already; they’ve met four times in total (at the concert, the restaurant, the park and the cinema); and they spoke once on the phone when Jongin was having a complete breakdown. It might not seem like a lot to get to know someone, but Jongin gullibly believes that, yes, they’re getting… closer and closer.

In a way. Right?

Texting probably helped a lot.

And the talk on the phone definitely changed something.

The only problem at the moment is that he’s standing in front of the restaurant and the sign clearly says closed.

And they were supposed to meet in about 15 minutes. Did he get mixed up in the dates? The time? He can’t be at the wrong place – it’s definitely where they met a long while ago when Kyungsoo had offered to make it up to him.

Minutes pass by and progressively, panic is seeping into his thoughts and limbs. Nervous ticks appear: he’s biting his lips nonstop and his left foot is constantly tapping against the ground with an erratic beat. He starts playing with the cuffs of his jeans jacket, looking down at his pants and his belt, wondering if he should text Kyungsoo or not.

And then, as his head hangs low, feet appear in his field of view. His eyes travel up prettily shaped legs and eye-catching thighs hidden by grey jeans (not black!) to then bring him up further until Kyungsoo and him are standing face to face. It gives him a sense of déjà vu.

The other is smiling, and since it’s raining, he’s also completely wet. Strands of his hair are sticking out at weird angles and it makes the amateur dancer want to play with it.

And Jongin brought his own umbrella, just in case. He thus isn’t the one on the verge of shivering because of the cold.

“I was really, well, wondering if you’d come… it’s closed?” His voice is tentative since he can’t explain himself why Kyungsoo would’ve asked to meet here if he knew the restaurant would be unavailable. Maybe it’s just a starting meeting point of sorts?

But then Kyungsoo triumphantly brandishes a set of keys and simply unlocks the restaurant’s main door. Oh.

“I asked my aunt if she’d mind, well, lending me her restaurant for the evening. She couldn’t have it open tonight and usually, I don’t make a mess of her kitchen, so there. Sorry for the confusion though, I thought I’d arrive before you.” His voice sounds apologetic and Jongin almost feels the need to point out that he’s always the first to arrive and that it’s okay anyway, but he keeps his mouth shut, nodding at Kyungsoo’s words.

“Oh, alright. That’s… nice, actually?” He doesn’t want to look too eager, but if he gets to enjoy Kyungsoo in a calm, intimate spot, he absolutely doesn’t mind. Beside the fact that if he embarrasses himself, nothing will be able to distract Kyungsoo from him.

They quickly enter the building and Kyungsoo locks the door as soon as they’re in and have gotten rid of their jackets; for some unknown reason, Jongin feels his heart miss a beat. Or two, maybe.

It feels weird to be locked up in the same building as your idol, alone.

Is Kyungsoo a murderer of sorts? Is he able to commit all kind of crimes by luring unsuspecting fans into a location no one will look out for? Is his aunt involved in this too?

…

Nah, okay, he doesn’t think so. He’s overthinking it a bit.

And would he really mind by now? He isn’t even sure he could make himself proud and answer that yes, he would mind that Kyungsoo lured him in to kidnap him, so he just pushes the stupid thought away to not further disturb himself.

There’s probably a limit to being someone’s fan. Probably.

“What would you like to eat? I can’t make absolutely everything on the menu, but try me?”

Oh, Jongin can think of all sorts of way in which he wants to try Kyungsoo-

And then he realises that for the umpteenth time, he wasn’t really aware of his surroundings while talking with the singer.

If the other noticed, he doesn’t say anything.

They’re sitting at the very back of the restaurant, near the kitchens’ doors and only the lights above their section are on. It’s a lot more discreet from the outside that way; and Kyungsoo put down some blinds, too.

It creates a weird atmosphere. Granted, anyone having a very intimate date with their idol would probably feel strange (and excited) about all of this, but it isn’t the first time they meet just to talk.

But, back to the meals.

“Uh. In all honesty…” His voice trails off as his eyes lay on the menu and he hesitates on a few options. There are salads, rolls, soups and all kinds of main dishes.

His stomach growls. He has the urge to look down at it and scowl, but he doesn’t. Kyungsoo’s looking at him almost expectantly and he needs to come up with something that he can eat and that can be cooked by the other.

(Wait, Kyungsoo’s going to cook for him? Ohmygo-)

“I’ll just take… doenjang-jjigae?” For once in his life, he doesn’t feel like fried chicken. His mother would probably smile at him approvingly for choosing a healthier option, but she isn’t here to congratulate him anyway. (And truthfully, he does enjoy her homemade version of soybean paste stew. )

“Sure, that I can do,” says Kyungsoo, nodding while looking at the menu. “It shouldn’t take too long. You can come with me in the kitchen if you want…?”

Jongin nods. He could just text Baekhyun while waiting, but it sounds better to just accompany the other, really.

And that’s how he finds himself sitting on a stool in an actually quite clean kitchen, his legs swinging by themselves as he is looking at Kyungsoo cutting vegetables. The earthenware pot is out and ready, and all that will later be needed is for the ingredients to be reunited and cooked.

It’s silent for a while, but it’s unexpectedly comfortable, too. Jongin didn’t think he’d be able to revel in such a calm place without freaking out about the other.

The other, who, at the moment, looks a lot like a normal, simple young man, and it betters the picture Jongin has of him even more.

Still, there are many, many things he wishes to ask. He has been considering this for a little while already – why did Kyungsoo ever decide to make it up to him?

What struck him so hard that he even wanted to meet up with Jongin again?

He kind of wants answers because his own theories don’t make any sense. They also don’t mean much without any real answer.

“Say, Kyungsoo?”

The other looks up from the task at hands, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

Jongin takes the time to take in his soft yet well-defined features, his round eyes and his cute lips.

His eyebrows are bushy and oh so expressive. It makes him even cuter.

“I was wondering…. What did I do to even… make you think you should make it up to me?” He tries to formulate his question in a subtle-not-so-subtle way, but he doesn’t know if it’s clear enough for the older man appears dazed for a few seconds.

“Well, I felt bad for you, I guess?” His tone is so irresolute. It only feels like he is hiding something, avoiding something and in the right to do so because Jongin’s question definitely lacked clarity.

An unclear answer for an unclear question.

“No, I mean – why me? You didn’t know me. You just - saw me. There.” There were no reasons for the idol to try all of this. To maintain all of this alive by texting and calling and meeting with him.

There was no reason for him to see Jongin and think, I have to make it up to him.

There’s no such thing as falling in love at first sight or anything like that. And the singer certainly doesn’t look like he’s head over heels for the amateur dancer.

Kyungsoo then just purses his lips and focuses on the cutting board, apparently making sure the zucchinis and onions are cut evenly. He then takes out the dried anchovies of their packaging as well as the soybean paste and others ingredients – putting everything in the pot and adding water.

He’s ignoring him or practicing sentences in his head – no way to know. Jongin is still on the stool and waiting for an answer that could change everything. He’s incredibly restless at the moment, but funnily enough his legs have stopped moving as if held back in their momentum by the gravity of what’s about to follow.

Everything was calm and comfortable when they settled in the kitchen but now, Jongin believes he can feel tension in the air.

But then Kyungsoo’s shoulders deflate and he hears him sigh audibly. He turns around to face Jongin, his expression a mix of many, many things.

“I don’t think you’d believe me.” That’s how he starts, his eyes looking at a point far behind Jongin’s figure.

“Why not?” He retorts.

“It’s stupid, really. Nothing that makes a lot of sense.”

He’s probably dreaming, as always, but he thinks he can identify embarrassment creeping up in Kyungsoo’s voice. What does it mean, exactly?

“I just want to know. What is it?” In all honesty, it’s not just about wanting to know; it’s about needing to know.

He has been nice enough to let Kyungsoo off the hook about that kiss-on-the-cheek thing, doesn’t he deserve for the older to finally let him on his first impression of the fan? Doesn’t he deserve to better understand the grounds of their relationship, the reason why they’re here together at this very moment?

(The touch of plush lips against his cheek is but a faint memory at the moment. Did it really happen?)

And Kyungsoo’s current reactions and ticks are just further confirming that there’s something fishy going on.

He’s still staring at that point far behind Jongin. He almost wants to turn around and look, too, but he refrains from doing so. He waits.

Patiently.

And then Kyungsoo’s eyes are plunging into his instead.

“When I… saw you. I thought – maybe we’d already met? A long time ago. And… when I remembered, I just didn’t want to let you go. Kinda.”

Jongin frowns. They already met before?

“Uh, what do you mean by we met before?”

Kyungsoo then smiles, throwing his head back as he starts laughing. “You really can’t say? And here I was thinking maybe you’d recognised me already and that’s why you were following me.”

Jongin feels a bit stupid because he has absolutely no clue what the other is talking about.

Kyungsoo must feel pity, because he stops laughing. “We went to the same school. I was about… 6 or 7? You were a year under.”

Jongin frowns even more. Furrows appear on his forehead because of how hard he’s trying to concentrate and remember and –

And it’s incredibly far and blurry, but, yes, maybe he can remember a small boy with round glasses and a black bowl cut. He might’ve played a few times with him during recess.

But – would that boy really be Kyungsoo?

It doesn’t explain why the older decided to keep in contact after that fainting episode. It’s plain stupid to keep contacting a fan. And why did he never try to find him before if he, uh, maybe appreciated their few childhood adventures?

“What? But you can’t – I mean, I’m not sure that justifies asking for my number and…”

Kyungsoo just smiles enigmatically, crossing his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t it?”

A flush creeps it way onto Jongin’s face. His lower lip is jutting out and he huffs. Why is he reacting like that to Kyungsoo’s smug tone of voice?

And he hates it when the other does that. That thing where it feels as if he’s implying something without really answering and- agh.

“You’re weird. You’re just weird. I could’ve been a creepy fan for all you know and you just decided to meet me again because you thought we played together during recess a few times?” Everything about him screams disbelieving. Kyungsoo seems only further amused by that.

“What if it’s really all it took for me?”

“But why? And do I have to remind you that it’s even weirder because I’m a male fan and-“

“I don’t really care.”

Jongin freezes, his mouth open. Any word he had in mind are now stuck in his throat and then, they just dissolve into thin air.

Are they really talking about the same thing?

Kyungsoo takes a few steps toward him. Needless to say, Jongin feels his personal space being very much invaded and he just doesn’t know how to react.

“What.” He’s on the verge of pouting. And maybe freaking out.

“Can’t I do something on a whim? I saw you and thought, oh, I’ve seen him somewhere – I know him. And, oh, he’s kinda cute.”

Jongin is sporting a full-on blush at the moment. It’s getting quite hot in here, after all. And Kyungsoo’s hands are on his hips. And his face is very, very close to his own.

He’s still sitting on the stool, but he thinks he might fall if he keeps leaning back as Kyungsoo is further leaning in and leaning in and –

He squeaks, almost, as his weight finally tips back and he’s falling, but before he can’t stop himself from making it worse, his hands find Kyungsoo’s and now they’re both falling.

When he opens his eyes again, Kyungsoo is half straddling, half laying on top of him, and his arm actually cushioned Jongin’s head during the fall – it must’ve hurt. The tiles aren’t exactly made of velvet.

“Oh , , I mean, are you alright? Sorry, I didn’t-” He’s cut off by a pair of warm, chapped lips pressing against his own. His eyes are wide open in shock; while Kyungsoo’s are shut in a peaceful expression.

The butterflies are flying around so frenetically in his stomach he isn’t sure he can feel his legs at the moment.

When the idol breaks the kiss, Jongin almost gasps for air.

And is mortified to find out he rather enjoyed that kiss.

Enjoyed having Kyungsoo’s lips against his own.

Enjoyed feeling the other’s breath mingle with his own, even though they are both guys.

This is a problem. But his thoughts are overwhelmed by what happened rather than whatever obstacle might come their way due to their, uh, attraction to each other?

“…You kissed me.” He’s still startled. His lips are tingling. The other smells of mint and cardamom.

“I did.” Kyungsoo doesn’t always have a lot of words. That’s something he noticed as they were talking and –

The sound of bubbling, spilling stew is unexpected.

Oops.

Kyungsoo sighs deeply and swears under his breath, helping Jongin up and then he’s assessing the harm done to the food while Jongin is just looking at his back, unable to define what his own reaction should be.

Maybe he needs some time to figure it out.

 

Fortunately enough, no real harm was done to Jongin’s stew. (And Kyungsoo decided to eat that too. Less difficult to cook for them both.)

They spent most of their evening either annoying or teasing one another, not yet enough at ease to mention the elephant in the room.

But Jongin got a confession from the person he admires the most, in a way. A confession that means a whole lot.

And it feels nice. It feels nice because he wants to return the feelings.

He has been trying for long enough to ignore his own thoughts on the subject.

 

It won’t be easy to deal with life and their schedules and such.

Still, they agree to meet as often as possible, to call each other as often as possible, to text each other as often as they can, too. And to stay subtle about it. There are too many things at stake.

Their future. Their careers. Their environment. Their reputations.

It’s not perfect, but it might also be worth it. Jongin needs to be even plainer about his love for Kyungsoo, but with Baekhyun here to keep him in check, it’s going pretty well.

And there are wonderful moments like right now, where Kyungsoo managed to find his way to Jongin’s place and they’re just lying in bed, their legs tangled together as they watch some random anime. It’s getting late, Jongin has dance rehearsal early tomorrow even though it’s the weekend, and Kyungsoo needs to be up even earlier because he has vocal practice and such, but it’s great to bask in each other’s presence. It’s reassuring.

He can feel the other’s body warmth as he is playing with his fingers, and Kyungsoo’s lips are pressed against his temple ever so often. It makes him feel giddy and happy.

They’re still young and they have a lot ahead of them, but they can try to make it work.

Jongin believes it’s worth it; and his boyfriend, Kyungsoo, can only readily agree with him.