(AN: So uh, I posted this kinda early but from now on I'll most likely be doing Monday postings since the semester is gonna start. If you liked it, leave a comment!)

“You need to get out of the house more,” Jongdae declared. Kyungsoo inhaled sharply, choking on the noodles he’d just slurped.

“Why?” He asked, tears in his eyes, once he’d calmed down. Jongdae had smacked him on the back, none too gently.

“Because you do,” Jongdae replied. Kyungsoo gave him a hard look, though its effect was lessened by the splotchiness of his cheeks. “Because I said so.”

“That’s not-“

“Um, yes. It is a good enough reason. I’m your hyung, and you’re coming with me,” said Jongdae. Kyungsoo kept eating, his lip curled in dissatisfaction.

“It’s still not. Where are we going anyway?” Kyungsoo grumbled at last.

“To a photoshoot I’m doing,” Jongdae chirped, beaming at Kyungsoo’s sour face. But then- oh. Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, the realization washing over him.

“Who- who are you gonna shoot- I mean, take photos of,” he asked. Jongdae narrowed his eyes at Kyungsoo.

“Why do you wanna know?” Jongdae asked, “I didn’t realize you knew any models by name.” Kyungsoo gulped, avoiding Jongdae’s eyes.

“I..don’t?” Jongdae didn’t look convinced, but didn’t press it.

“It’s Kim Jongin,” said Jongdae. Kyungsoo choked again, this time on air. Did Jongdae- did he know? No, it was impossible. Kyungsoo hadn’t told a soul about what he’d seen, not even when Jaehwan grilled him about it (again, after work, when Kyungsoo was tired and cranky and just wanted to be home). Once he’d calmed down, Kyungsoo wiped the fresh tears away, sniffling.

“Oh, that guy?” Kyungsoo winced; he’d aimed for nonchalant, but had missed the mark entirely. Jongdae leaned on the counter, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that guy,” he stopped, looking at Kyungsoo, smiling when Kyungsoo began to squirm.

“Stop staring at me like that,”

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” said Jongdae. Kyungsoo scoffed.

“What could I possibly not be telling you?” he asked. Well, that was a stupid question. There were many things Jongdae could suspect, and Kyungsoo was afraid of every one of them. Jongdae bit his lip.

“I don’t know yet,” he said softly, “But I will figure it out.” Kyungsoo swallowed hard. Should he- No. But maybe- No, Jongdae would think him an idiot. Coming clean was the last thing Kyungsoo wanted to do, if only to preserve his pride. But Jongdae suspected him of keeping a secret. Which meant that Kyungsoo had to act like he still didn’t want to go. Then Jongdae wouldn’t suspect a thing.

“I still don’t see why I have to get out of the house more,” Kyungsoo whined, picking at the now lukewarm noodles.

“Because I said so,” Jongdae said through gritted teeth.

“But I don’t want to,” Kyungsoo shot back.

“Well, tough luck, , because you’re going,” said Jongdae.

The building was enormous. Kyungsoo had lost track of how to get out, which of course led him to imagine a thousand scenarios in which he had to get out of the building (like, say, godzilla crashing through the city, or an alien portal that opened up just above the roof of this building) and would most likely perish because he simply could not find the ing exit. He would have to rely on Jongdae, who maneuvered through the halls so easily, so confidently.

The studio had already been set up, but Jongdae, ever the perfectionist, began to tweak it to his liking, leaving Kyungsoo sitting besides the cameras, feeling quite like a turd among all the fancy equipment and the equally fancy people. His palms were grossly sweaty; he had to keep wiping them on his jeans. The bustle of people on set was soothing, at least, quite like the bustle of the kitchen.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out,” said Jongdae, a hand on his hip. Kyungsoo jumped, startled by the sound of Jongdae’s voice. “Now you look even worse.” Kyungsoo squeaked, but couldn’t say much. “Don’t yourself plea-ow!”

“This was your brilliant idea. Not mine,” Kyungsoo hissed. He jabbed at his glasses angrily, scrunching his nose when they wedged themselves too tightly on the bridge of his nose. Jongdae laughed, slapping Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” he winked at Kyungsoo, kneeling next to the camera bags. Kyungsoo watched him, half fascinated, half angry, as Jongdae attached the lens to the sm