Note: I wrote in a completely different style from most of my other works... just giving something new a try.  Leave a comment!

One.

They are four years old the first time they meet.

Jongin is an overly shy, clingy child, clutching to his mother’s leg as she tries to drop him off for his first day of preschool.  Small chubby fingers are curled into the fabric of pants like his life depended on it, his mother cooing softly trying to coax him into letting go. The more she coos and pets at him, the tighter his fingers dig into the fabric of her scrubs.

Sehun’s mother swears he came out of the womb giving orders.

Wandering over with pout to his mouth and curious glint to his eyes Sehun pushes right between mother and teacher, bending down to look directly into Jongin’s face.  The other boy is peering at him between the spaces of too long bangs, shadow falling over dark eyes.

“I’m 4 now,” are the first words Sehun speaks to Jongin, arms curling across his chest and eyes bright with pride like he’s just answered all of the world’s unanswerable questions or maybe even solved world hunger.  But he’s four so he’s achieved neither of those, he’s just a brat.

Jongin’s head tilts, curiosity growing as Sehun s his hand into Jongin’s face, nearly smacking the boy right between the eyes.  Jongin startles, nearly falling over backwards hands flying up towards his own face as well.  “Play with me.”

Jongin blinks.  “Please.” Sehun tacks on as an afterthought.

Tentative fingers curl around Sehun’s and before Jongin even has time to process how soft Sehun’s hand actually is; the boy is shooting off like a rocket across the room dragging Jongin along behind him like a rag doll.  His mouth is moving too fast and Jongin’s a little dizzy by the time he’s pressed into a chair and a bright yellow crayon is shoved between his fingers.

He hates yellow.  But he doesn’t notice when his mother slips away.

Two.

They are nine when Sehun nicknames Jongin.

Sehun has never really had a filter on his mouth, bratty around the edges of a personality that is less welcoming than is socially acceptable under the best of circumstances. He isn’t all that sure how the name even came to him, the only defense he has is that Jongin danced like he belongs under the spotlight even at the young age of nine. 

Jongin doesn’t notice, mostly because he’s on stage dance his heart out and he doesn’t even know where the younger boy and their families are sitting, but Sehun is stares with hearts in the corner of his eyes the entire 3 minutes and 47 seconds Jongin is on stage.

The end of the recital leaves Jongin buzzing with excitement, nerves humming a pleasant tune to the beat of his racing heart as it pounds within his chest.  Sehun feeds off of Jongin’s energy, wrapping arms around the other as they jump around like maniacs, their parents all laughing in the background.  A sense of kinship settles in Sehun’s bones and he never wants to let go as Jongin laughs wetly into the bend of his jaw.

“You need a proper stage name!” Sehun mask whispers tucked in the backseat of Jongin’s family van.  He gets a nose wrinkle in return, Jongin’s face pulling at the corners because there isn’t anything wrong with his name after-all, but he humors the younger boy anyways – mostly because it’s a lot easier to just let Sehun do whatever he wants.  They are only nine, but Jongin likes to think he knows Sehun quite well.

Sehun names him Kai without any thought, the name bursting from his mouth.

For some unknown reason the nickname sticks and catches on.  Sehun is slightly territorial about the nickname, possessive in a way that he keeps his mouth shut but stares daggers into the back of Jieun’s pig-tailed head when she chirps Kai Kai Kai, after class one day with wide eyes and a smile that Sehun wants to wipe away with eraser.  Jongin blinks at the girl with sleepy eyes before turning back to Sehun.

But, Jongin beams whenever Sehun cheers from the front row, Kai Kai Kai rolling from the tip of his tongue like a prayer.  Staring without blinking like he can’t stand to miss a single second, Sehun is on the edge of the seat through every twist and turn and leap, heart in his throat as Jongin shines almost too brightly.

Sehun never really gets a nickname.  Not one that sticks anyways.

Luhan has always called him Sehunnie, unfortunately Jongin picks up the habit briefly.  It catches on for a few years before Sehun becomes so fed up that he starts to glare at anyone that even sounds like they might call him that, the name dies on their lips before they scamper away.  He gets labeled Prince sometime towards the end of Middle School, but after he scoffs enough times at the name people start to realize that he isn’t all that Princely after all – which is perfectly fine with Sehun they’re all peasants in his mind regardless of what they call him.

Sehun doesn’t really want a nickname though. 

Nicknames are for people too big for their birth name.  They are filled with expectations and obligations and responsibility to actually be something.  And Sehun doesn’t want to live by anyone else’s rules.

He thinks that Sehun fits him quite perfectly.  Simple and short, it’s easy to remember and not overpowering. It’s a name that lets him sort of just blend into the outskirts of everything around him. It’s a name full of quiet possibility though, a name he could do some good for the world with, some day maybe if he feels like it.

Three.

First crushes are messy business. At least that’s what Sehun is prone to believe.  And he doesn’t deal in anything remotely messy; it’s uncomfortable and generally only leads to some sort of disaster.  Disaster is something Oh Sehun has a strict policy against, he likes it to remain as far away from him as possible.

But, Sehun has always just wanted to be at Jongin’s side, regardless of the disasters that come about.

Even wracking his brain there isn’t a name or face he can pluck out and truthfully label them as first crush.  He doesn’t understand until much later what that means.  The pleasant hum in his chest, the flutter in his stomach, the twitchy hands – for the longest time he thinks he must be terminally ill and spends most of his nights pestering his mother about seriously taking him to the hospital.

For Sehun it’s probably always been Jongin in his mind.  But Jongin has never followed the same rules as Sehun.  In fact Sehun is pretty sure that Jongin goes against whatever Sehun does just to spite him.  He can’t prove it but sometimes he is convinced that Jongin is around only to torture him slowly until he flings himself from a building, or bridge, or in front of a bus, or just into a corner maybe.

Luhan is Sehun’s older brother, four years older than him the boy’s just turned 16 and he’s gorgeous.

Luhan is stunningly comfortable in his own skin, whereas Jongin is all lanky limbs that are still growing and shyness that’s morphed over years into a sort of deep set awkwardness.  Luhan is smart and sweet.  He has soft rounded edges, sweet smiles and big eyes that Jongin swears twinkle from time to time.  He is pretty much everything Sehun isn’t and everything Sehun never wants to be.

Sehun watches Jongin watching Luhan and he can’t make any sense of it for the longest time.  Until everything sort of falls into place when Luhan pats Jongin’s head one day and Sehun is terrified Jongin is having a heart attack when the boy turns fire engine red and starts vibrating in his seat with eyes blown wide.

Jongin is hopelessly smitten and Sehun might have accidentally sorted his brother’s favorite white t-shirt into the reds pile when it’s his turn to do the laundry a week later, but no one has any solid proof on the matter.

Four.

As boys it’s impossible to grow up together and not get into little spats.

This channel. That ice cream flavor. This coat is better. That hat is cooler. Let’s skate to the park. Throw that yellow shirt away, its offensive to my eyes.  Let’s go down to the beach today.  The mall is too crowded.  I’m tired of the same game.  I said I didn’t want to watch another horror movie.

This-That-This-That.  Everything always turns into some sort of mild pissing match, in the end whoever outlasts the longest wins. Jongin rarely ever wins, usually because he gets bored of the whole ordeal and just gives into Sehun with a shrug.  Despite the circumstances Sehun generally feesl quite proud and accomplished in all his tallies in the win column. 

They are fourteen when they have their first big blowout.

Jongin gets really serious about dance and music when they enter high school, and much less serious about his actual grades. Skipping lessons in favor of hanging around the roof messing around with upper classmen Chanyeol and Baekhyun.  Constantly in trouble for not following uniform rules. 

Jongin is in detention as often as he is actually in class.

Sehun studies his off. Buried beneath layers of texts and assignments, notes scrawled in every book margin, no question in his workbook ever left unanswered.  He spends lunch alone curled in a back corner of the library, heart a little frayed around the edges. He’d never thought about needing someone other than Jongin before.  At this point in his life he doesn’t know how to make new friends.

He walks to school alone.  He goes home alone. Attends extra study lessons alone.  Basically he spends a lot of time on his own.

Midterms come out and he’s top of the class for the first time ever.  He’s got straight marks across the board and for the first time since entering High School he actually feels a swell of pride settle in his bones, at least until Jongin is draping over his shoulder and laughing hotly into his ear.

Nerd.

It stings a little bit deeper than anything ever has before.  It all ends in a one-sided screaming match, with Sehun unloading ever word he’s been biting back for the whole year hurling them one after another at Jongin who stands there stunned into silence.  It isn’t the first time that Sehun thinks Jongin doesn’t care enough.

His report card ends up leaving a paper cut across Jongin’s cheek.  And Sehun is too pissed to even care as he stomps off. It takes Jongin three weeks to properly apologize.  Sehun caves in the second familiar arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him into a too tight hug.

He’s always been too lenient when it comes to Jongin.

Five.

Sehun is embarrassingly seventeen when he has his first kiss.

It’s nothing all that special.  Probably one of the worst first kisses in the history of first kisses if he’s truly honest with himself, regardless of the fact that it actually matters to him – it actually means something and he can’t escape the reality of the situation. 

It’s Christmas time and Jongin’s family is over for their annual holiday dinner, they’ve been having these chaotic things for as long as Sehun even remembers.  It’s generally borderline too loud, stuffy and overwhelming in the house – especially now that they’re all older and bigger and louder.

It’s all because of mistletoe and pushy siblings in the end.

It’s a simple quick press of Jongin’s mouth against the corner of his own.  There and gone in a matter of seconds.  Jongin laughs loudly afterwards, completely unfazed as he continues into the kitchen like it’s nothing.  And it probably isn’t anything to Jongin at this point.  But, Sehun spends the rest of the night pretending that he isn’t having a mini meltdown into his soup.

No one knows its Sehun’s first kiss, but he knows for a fact it isn’t Jongin’s.

Kyungsoo is Jongin’s first boyfriend.  He’s also his first kiss.  Kyungsoo is a year above them, sort of friends with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, but a lot less trouble.  He’s small, and smart, and sweet.  He’s cute in a sort of way that Sehun could never hope to be and it makes him wish he could hate the older boy.  But he can’t because Kyungsoo skirts too closely to the edges of an actual manifestation of perfection.

There are petty hateful untrue words in the back of Sehun’s throat every time he catches the two of them together.  Whenever he stumbles upon them lip-locked he has to rem