Jongin glares at the back of the idiot’s head. That stupid, beautiful idiot with his annoying reminders of manners and cute pointed ears. What does it take to get through to him?

The rest of the drive is quiet. They both murmur along to some songs they know, but they don’t talk. There’s too much to say and not enough vocabulary to say it. It mounts between them in the enclosed space, spurred by static, until they can feel its oppressive presence.

And they still do nothing. It sits between them like an unwanted seatmate on the bus who takes up their seat as well as part of their neighbor’s, and the neighbor is too polite and unnerved to say anything.

So it stays there. Chanyeol watches the road and looks back at Jongin. Jongin stares at his phone and looks up at Chanyeol.