Agitation is the first emotion that crosses Jongin’s mind. After years of sleeping on the bed by himself, the slightest movement on it will inevitably rouse him to consciousness. There’s something incredibly wrong. He can tell there’s something incredibly, extremely wrong but doesn’t know what it is. After a moment of freezing up in his thoughts, he finally sits up in one swift motion. 

From beside him, someone stirs, groaning too as he stretches. That someone, Jongin realises, is none other than Oh Sehun. The one and only Oh Sehun who’s managed to smoothly curl up against Jongin’s sides and latches his arms around Jongin’s leg. He’s stiffened up, of course he did, because that’s the only way acceptable enough to respond. What happened last night could be blamed on alcohol. Hell, Jongin could even claim nothing happened if Sehun asked. Who’ll know? But getting flustered because of this cannot be explained.

Maybe he should call them the pair of Tug-of-war. It’ll fit, won’t it? Such an overused description, but it’s the perfect one. On some days Jongin wants to ask just what Sehun wants from him. He’ll say one thing but does another. 

“I don’t like it when people touch me,” Sehun had said to Chanyeol who got shrugged off from hanging onto his shoulders. 

It’s easy for Jongin to look away and wonder. Wonder just why—why, then, did Sehun caress almost every inch of his skin in the name of calming him down? Why did Sehun reached for him and pulled him into a hug, touch him like he’s doing now? How is it okay? It’s not. Jongin realises that it’s not okay for others but perfectly fine for him. Jongin’s special. The same way a mother would kill and die for her child but wouldn’t do the same for others. 

Jongin’s special to Sehun but as what? As family? As someone to look out for? Out of guilt? Or is it something else?

If Sehun was a cat, he’d be purring quite contently now. He looks up at Jongin and smiles, dropping his head on Jongin’s thigh. Do brothers do this? Do friends do this? Jongin gulps, bringing a hand up to run it through Sehun’s hair. Let’s see what kind of results Jongin will see in this test. 

Touch. He’s touching, but Sehun does nothing to push him away. In fact, he leans into Jongin’s cold touch. His hands are cold, unbearably so, but all Sehun thinks of goes along the lines of, “This is nice.” 

His voice is scratchy but resolute. Jongin doesn’t know what to do, and even less when Sehun traces his nails ever-so-lightly on Jongin’s skin, his thigh. The air thickens, tensions fills the room, but it’s billowy, like it’ll disperse once Jongin so much as blinks. Jongin doesn’t want to hope, doesn’t want to expect too much, but there’s clearly something. There’s clearly more that Jongin refused to read into in case it’s a message he can’t bear to read. But what about now? 

Now. When Sehun slides the tip of his nail daintily up, and up, and up till there’s no more bare skin to travel on. Till the hem of Jongin’s shorts he’d put on after discarding his pair of jeans in his hazy state early in the morning. Till there’s nothing else to trace his nail on unless Sehun pushes and dives under the fabric. What changed? The entire time he’s tried pushing the intrusive thoughts away, he’s wasted convincing himself Sehun’s just a nobody that he shouldn’t think much about. Once he gets carried away, wishing for more, he’d tell himself Sehun’s not the one for him. But here we are, he thinks.

“What happens if nobody loves you?” 

Jongin’s not stupid. He’s anything but stupid, and he knows that look crossing over Sehun’s expression when he asked such a taboo question. That yearning, not for Jongin himself, per se, but for Jongin to know. At least know. That want in the quirk of his lips, in that sip he took, in the way he stared. That question—that ing question—must have been a game changer for Sehun. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be running his fingers along the hem of Jongin’s shorts, as if testing the waters, as if trying to see just how far he’s allowed to go. 

Jongin takes a deep breath in and shifts, slowly untangling the covers off of his sweaty legs. He’s sweating, wow. He gets up and feels the scorch of skin sliding off of his. Sehun lets his hand drop by his side, rolling over onto his back as he lets out a sigh as quietly as possible. Jongin doesn’t look—too scared to in case he breaks—and shuffles into the bathroom with a snick of the door behind him. The suffocating, intangible, utterly abhorring tension doesn’t subside. 

It doesn’t get any better until Jongin sees Sehun pouring coffee into his cereal bowl. He bursts out laughing, completely taken by surprise. In his entire life, he’d never seen anyone enjoying something so bitter and so sweet mashed together. Jongin stalks into the kitchen with a titter spilling out of him. His hair drips from the shower he just took but he doesn’t do anything to dry it first. Instead, he takes a seat next to Sehun and steals the spoon to taste the cereal himself. 

Sehun lets out a choked noise, about to protest right as Jongin grimaces violently at the taste in his mouth. He races to the sink and spits the food out as glasses clink next to him from his groping hands. He gags. 

“It’s not that bad.” Jongin could practically hear the roll of the eyes in Sehun’s voice. 

“It’s horrible,” Jongin coughs out. “What the do you put in your coffee?” 

“Or what the do I not put in my coffee,” Sehun wittily remarks. 

“Shut up,” Jongin counters back, still busy trying to wash the taste off his tongue with water. 

It’s easier this way, Jongin thinks as he leans over the sink, to ignore everything else and focus on now. No more thinking, no more worrying. Jongin takes his original position next to Sehun back with a glare, pouring normal milk into his cereal bowl like a normal person would.

“You free today?” Sehun asks, still thoughtlessly munching on his awful choice of food for breakfast. “Was thinking on bringing you somewhere.”

“I have to see my psychologist today. I’m free after that, though,” Jongin speaks with his mouth full, not caring so much if he looks gross or not. It’s been a minute but he’s two sips away from cleaning his bowl. Sehun doesn’t seem to mind much and has most of his attention on his phone anyway. “I’ll be done by 4.”

“Perfect.” Sehun gives him a pleased lipped smile. “The place is around the corner from my house. I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay,” Jongin mumbles with a nod. He picks his and Sehun’s bowl up to put them in the sink. He sees Sehun dashing into the bedroom, hearing the latter mumble something about getting his coat. 

Jongin turns to face the sink with a grimace. What happened before he went into the shower was totally real. It happened, and no amount of alcohol and hangover could convince him otherwise. He’d be slightly disoriented, yes, but Jongin can always tell if things happen in real life or in his imagination. That spark, that questioning moment between them. 

Did that happen, or is Sehun this good at swerving? Or is he imagining it all? Or is Sehun pretending nothing happened? If so, then he’s extremely good at it. Jongin’s fully convinced he made a mistake by even thinking Sehun was showing signs of having feelings for him. It’s completely impossible. 

Sehun has a complicated past. From parents to friends to Jongin. It became even more complex when Jongin’s past intertwined with his. His father, from what Jongin gathered with what he got these past few months, came out when Sehun was in High School and promptly left. For a certain period of time, Sehun held a negative brand towards his father and what he identified with. It’d be completely, utterly, unfortunately impossible for Sehun to make a U-Turn and return Jongin’s feelings. Right?

Jongin’s uncertain regarding a number of issues, and this shouldn’t be one of them. He should be thinking about what he’d like to discuss with Doctor Kim later on. Jongin has to plan his conversations out and filter out the topics he doesn’t want to touch on just yet. Jongin should worry about how he should deal with Jaehyun, how he should shop for Romeo’s food soon, how he should approach Renjun.

Jongin buries his face into his hands, groaning almost inaudibly as he recalls just how he wasn’t supposed to even acknowledge his feelings for Sehun in the first place. He has to call somebody, talk about this. Maybe write about it in his journal right before burning the page over the ashtray. 

“You good?” Jongin jumps at Sehun’s voice right next to him. 

“You have to stop doing that!” Jongin thrashes around and stomp his foot in petulance to get Sehun to back away in the least suspicious way possible. “And yeah, I’m fine, I guess.”

“You guess? So you’re not actually fine.” Sehun raises his brows to morph his expression into one of pride, as if he’s won a medal for pointing that out. 

“I’ll talk to Dr. Kim about it,” Jongin weakly sighs out. “By the way, I’ll pay you back the money for the psychology sessions next week. I have to renew my card.”

“Oh, no need. I don’t really mind. Plus, you’re a friend.” Sehun laughs. “Just repay me with homemade dinner or something.”

“Friends don’t pay for each other’s psychology sessions as if it’s a dollar-worth candy in a convenience store.” Jongin scoffs in protest. “I don’t want you to waste money on me.”

“Nonsense, I’m not wasting anything,” Sehun’s voice distances away along with his figure as he retreats out of the kitchen to put on his shoes. Jongin follows after him, watching the way Sehun’s feet simply slides into his shoes under a second. “You’re more than just a friend to me.”

“Well…” Jongin’s dazed into silence. A jerk. Sehun’s a complete and utter jerk for saying that, for making him so flustered he couldn’t think of anything to say back. “Well, I…”

Damn it. 

Sehun titters as he slides out of the door, walking backwards and away from Jongin. He waves, an action so small Jongin would have missed it if not for the fact that he hasn’t blinked for the past minute or two. Jongin belatedly waves back, muttering “Bye” under his breath to Sehun’s excited “See you later.”

That was not in his imagination. It’s either Sehun’s hinting on something or he thinks of Jongin as his brother. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have any reason to say that. Unless Jongin’s been too obvious with his feelings and Sehun’s just playing around with his feelings. If that’s the case, Jongin might have to reevaluate their friendship. He can’t continue being friends with Sehun if he’s going to constantly treat Jongin’s feelings as a joke. 

          “What would you want to address in today’s session?” Doctor Kim gestures to Jongin to take a seat across from him, on a couch so comfortable Jongin had to convince himself he wasn’t sitting on clouds. Jongin’s brief surprised expression doesn’t go unnoticed by Doctor Kim, and the older man lets out a laugh at that. “You seem a lot more tense today, like you have a few things in mind.”

“I actually do,” Jongin politely smiles as he readjusts his position on the couch. “Something actually happened.”

“Something important, it seems.” Doctor Kim nods. 

“Last week, I… almost… I almost got .” Jongin squints in uncertainty, eyes darting up to survey Doctor Kim’s reaction. “And I know it sounds weird for a guy to encounter such a problem but I’m truly not lying, and it’s a little hard to believe, it’s not something you’d expect but I really am not lying—”

“Calm down. I understand.” Jongin gets interrupted with Doctor Kim easing him out of his panicked state.

Jongin knows it’s not easy to believe the words he’s spewing out. In this day and age, some things are more accepted and perceived at with a little more perspective but there are still a few areas needing more working on. For example, the ual harassment towards men. Sure, Doctor Kim’s a very broadminded person, fitting for a doctor of his kind, but Jongin can’t be too sure yet. In his experience, there’ll often be times where the nicest people turn their backs on him. 

“Do you really?” Jongin squeaks out.

“Yes. Truly. There will always be situations where these unprecedented situations can happen. Perhaps they were someone you trusted, or maybe they’re too domineering, maybe they even slipped drugs into your food or drinks.” Doctor Kim crosses his left leg over his right, wiggling inconspicuously so he’s sitting right at the edge of his seat. What Jongin notices is that he doesn’t have his usual notebook out. “I understand that nothing is impossible. Now, would you like to tell me what happened?”

That was the start of a very long and tough storytelling. Jongin had to revisit what happened—in detail—for the third time but it’s definitely the umpteenth time he’d thought about it. There’s no escaping trauma, no matter how shallow or deep it has settled in one’s mind. 

“The fact that you’ve rememb