“So are you going to go talk to him at some point or are you just gonna burn holes in the back of his head?”

The sudden voice right next to his ear startles Jongin into choking on his water, spluttering as his best friend shows up down beside him, helpfully patting his back.

He opens his mouth to protest feebly but Kyungsoo holds up a hand, silencing him before he starts, simultaneously daring Jongin with his eyes to contradict him. 

“Please, Jongin,” he quirks an eyebrow, “I’ve repeatedly caught you sneaking glances at him for weeks now.”

Jongin sighs in resignation, shoulders drooping as his slumps back against the bench, “I just- I really like his music…”

Kyungsoo follows Jongin’s gaze to see Chanyeol bending over, scrambling to collect a number of loose papers that had flown out of his hands with the wind.  

“Yeah. Just his music,” Kyungsoo smirks, voice dripping with innuendo before ducking away when Jongin makes a swipe at him. 

Jongin remains silent though, still staring across the University Campus with a wistful, almost melancholy look on his face. Studying his friend, the smile slips away from Kyungsoo’s lips and his face softens.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo starts again quietly, knowing exactly what’s on his mind. But Jongin shakes his head quickly and tears his gaze away, looking back at Kyungsoo with a small, resigned smile on his face.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter.”

“But–”

“Soo…please,” Jongin sighs tiredly, shoulders slumping as he tries to make himself as small as possible in his seat. He tends to drop the honorifics with him when he’s emotionally exhausted; a sign of trust of sorts, vulnerability.  Kyungsoo bites his lip for a moment before giving a short nod and sits down beside him.

“Jongin,” he tries again gently; “I’m not trying to force you into anything, you know I would never do that.”

He pauses almost as though waiting for Jongin to interject. When he doesn’t, Kyungsoo goes on, “So I’m just asking you if maybe you’d consider just giving it a try.” 

“I don’t even have that kind of confidence,” Jongin exclaims, the slightest quaver in his voice, “Not anymore.”

He hangs his head for a moment before lifting it up again to look at Kyungsoo with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes distressed and beseeching.

“I thought,” he starts, heaving out a sigh of exhaustion as he drags a hand through his hair roughly, “I thought you of all people, would get that,” he finishes quietly, almost mumbling to himself but Kyungsoo catches every word. 

“I do!” Kyungsoo insists, curling his fingers around Jongin’s wrist.

He does. The last time he’d put himself out there like that for someone, it had been Kyungsoo’s dorm that Jongin had shown up at, looking a mess with tattered jeans, teary eyes and a fresh bruise blooming on his swelling cheek. 

Kyungsoo had ushered him inside worriedly, tugging him by the wrist into his room towards his bed to let Jongin sit down on the mattress heavily. He’d curled into himself, shaking, silent. His eyes had glistened with unshed tears, his lower lip wobbling but he said nothing, did nothing, didn’t make a sound. Even when Kyungsoo had stepped away for a moment to get him a glass of water, he’d come back to find Jongin bent over in half, face buried in his hands as his forehead bumped against his knees with the force of his shaking shoulders. The choked, cut off sounds he made were his attempt to just hold it in, even as his fingers came away wet; he said nothing, merely rocking back and forth slightly as he shook. 

Even when he finally broke down crying a while later, sobbing brokenly into Kyungsoo’s chest as the other sat with him and held him; even then Jongin still didn’t say a word and Kyungsoo only held him tighter. 

He didn’t touch his ballet shoes for a long time after that. 

Jongin closed up; he drew back into himself, retreating into a shell. It took his all for Kyungsoo to pull him out from behind the walls he’d built around himself. Most of them anyway.

Traces of the walls are still there now, and Jongin uses them to hide behind whenever anything that could possibly have an impact on his life shows up. It’s not self-loathing; Kyungsoo had already helped pull him out of those dark times when they’d chained him down before. But he’s still scared; anxious and uncertain of himself. 

He’s been unlucky, to say the least, with such matters of the heart.  

“I do know,” Kyungsoo affirms, “and I also know Chanyeol.  I’m just asking you to trust me; he’s a good guy, Jongin. And you’re my best friend, you know I’ll always have your back. Let yourself have this.”

-

Most times, comfort is easier to find in the dance studio in the music building than anywhere else. Here, Jongin never feels afraid; he can simply unwind, shedding the troubled musings that tend to plague him from time to time.  He lets his feet weave a path for him and he follows; a flow of graceful limbs that jerk into sharp twists and turns, steady shoulders and sure steps. 

He  dances until his lungs burn, comforted by the harsh pants that bounce off the walls and the smell of sweat that hangs heavily in the stifling air. It’s a regular everyday familiarity, only it’s tinged with exhilarating release and relief, a high of sorts. All he needs to hear is the music, the beat, the pounding of his heart, the blood rushing through his ears. 

Jongin always comes alone; his reflection in the full body length mirrors bordering the room his sole audience.  He’s not a loner, by any means, constantly craving company even if he’s not the most outgoing of people. The bundle of his own trapped affection that’s been stomped on and thrown back in his face, gives way to a deep seated, buried desperate need to belong, to be part of something, to give a part of himself, to share.

This is where he gives a part of himself, in his own way. Even if it’s to his own reflection, this is when he really bares out everything; when there’s no need to think, where he just needs to move. The cataclysm of muddled emotions and lines of thought fade away into the background when he claims the floor and lets his limbs come undone; a streak of arches and bends, twists in time with the drums. He pirouettes to the captivating melody of the piano, letting the melody propel him in the air in a graceful leap before the bass notes bring him to his knees.  All he needs to feel is the stretch of the canvas ballet slippers with every point and flex, feel the burn in his muscles, the rush in his chest.  

The breaths are ripped out from his chest, the cumulative roll of his hips forcing a rhythm of staccato pants that chafe his throat and he welcomes the pure rawness of it all. It’s liberating, exhilarating; it feels safe, feels like home. 

His rhythm is broken, however, by the sound of the door to the practice room clicking open, startling Jongin into stumbling, nearly tripping on his own feet.

“Hello? Is someone here- oh!” 

Peeking through the doorway is none other than Park Chanyeol, his leather guitar case strapped over one shoulder.

“Hi!” he calls, raising a hand in greeting while the other grips the strap on his shoulder securely. Chanyeol frowns for a moment, cocking his head as the music blares on and Jongin suddenly jolts into movement, managing to coordinate his feet through his sudden shock to dive for the stereo set in the corner of the room.

“Is that –” Chanyel starts as realization dawns on his face, “Is that my music?”

“,” Jongin hisses, suddenly all thumbs as he fumbles with the buttons, accidentally turning the volume up, “uh…yeah, , I uh,” he finally jams a finger on the stop button, abruptly cutting off the song to make way for silence. Jongin winces at the jarring thick hush that falls, broken only by his own heavy panting. 

Turning to face Chanyeol guiltily, Jongin swallows down his embarrassment and tentatively meets Chanyeol’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” he blurts out, hastily pulling his old, worn out ballet shoes off his feet, wringing them tightly in his hands as he stares up at Chanyeol , mortified and apologetic. “I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t- it’s just your music I–”

Jongin stumbles over his words, struggling to find a way to explain himself without sounding like the biggest creep on campus. 

Chanyeol simply stares at him curiously, brows slightly tugged together as he blinks expectantly, almost encouragingly.

“I’m a huge fan of your work,” Jongin manages finally, wondering if he burning face looks as flaming as it feels; “I just wanted to try out some moves to the beat, I’m sorry, I ripped them off the internet from your site, I should have asked you first, like, if you’d be cool with it; I swear I wasn’t trying to steal them or anything.”

His explanation sounds feeble at best and he can feel his insides twisting because, of course, he would up in front of this guy, of all people.

“You were actually dancing to my music?” Chanyeol presses, looking completely taken aback.  He takes another step into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. 

“I–” Jongin struggles to gauge what exactly Chanyeol’s next reaction is going to be, his face unreadable past his surprised expression; “Yeah, I really like the way the drums flowed in smoothly with the piano parts. It’s just the right kind of melody that gets you moving; or, well, at least that’s what I thought anyway,” Jongin rambles, scratching the back of his neck nervously while simultaneously feeling grossed out by the way his clothes and hair stick to his sweaty skin. 

Chanyeol’s eyes widen inexplicably before he suddenly exhales into what appears to be a rather pleased sigh of relief.

“You really think so?” Chanyeol asks excitedly, approaching Jongin eagerly as the other remains rooted to the spot at the unexpected reaction. Noticing the quick glance Chanyeol throws down at the ballet shoes clutched in his hand, Jongin stiffens, feeling a painful spike of apprehension tinged with a familiar anxiety rising in his chest. 

Chanyeol, however, simply smiles at him, ducking his head almost shyly;

“I’m actually a big fan of your dancing,” he admits with a bashful grin. “I watched your performance in last semester’s showcase; I thought it- ah- you were amazing.”

His neck is flushed by the end of it and Jongin is blatantly gawping at the rapid way the tables have completely turned.  Gawking at Chanyeol disbelievingly, Jongin wonders for a heart-stopping moment whether this is actually an elaborate prank in bad taste, because there’s no way this is actually happening. But Chanyeol’s earnest expression doesn’t give way to any hints of a triumphant smirk or mocking sneer.

“You’re actually serious,” Jongin can’t help but stare incredulously, unsure if his lightheadedness is a result of the long hours of dancing finally hitting him hard or the complete 180 this evening just took. He feels almost jet lagged.

Chanyeol nods with a loud laugh, clearly finding his disbelief amusing. 

“I’m actually working on a new track right now,” he comments, tugging at one of his ear lobes absently. Then his face brightens up as a thought seems to hit him, “Hey I could show it to you, give you a listen if you’re interested, maybe over coffee or something?” A hopeful smile plays on his lips, unable to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. 

“Wait, really?” Jongin’s eyes widen at the invitation and the offer. He feels like a broken record of repeated exclamations and disbelieving remarks and he scrambles to redeem himself. 

He pauses for a moment though, a flash film of images and a surging flood of thoughts tumbling through his mind. He thinks of his fear and how it crippled him, he thinks of his anxiety, his pain and how he’d gotten these afflictions in the first place. He remembers how it all began, aiming for happiness but having it crash and burn in his face. He remembers what he’d almost given up. He thinks of the blisters on his feet, the ache in his muscles, the worn out shoes in his hands and everything they mean to him. He sees his own loneliness, he sees Kyungsoo; he sees Chanyeol’s welcoming smile and warm eyes.

‘I’m just asking you to trust me.’

He trusts his best friend. He trusts the sincerity written on Chanyeol’s face. He trusts himself to really take care of himself this time, to proceed with caution so that he doesn’t find himself in a replay of picking up the pieces of himself. The anxiety is still there, nervous anticipation inevitably ingrained in his bones. He’s made progress though, trying to reassemble his own confidence bit by bit; after all, Rome wasn’t built in a day.  He’s got a way to go but Jongin inhales resolutely, trusting himself enough to let himself have this. 

“I’d love to,” he replies, a certainty steadily growing more solid in him, “, that would be awesome,” he beams unable to help himself. 

“Great!” Chanyeol flashes a lopsided smile back, his eyes crinkling. “Tomorrow sound okay? My last class finishes at four; we could meet at that café just off campus.”

“Yeah, sounds good! I’ll be there.”

“Right, well then, I’ll uh…” Chanyeol rocks on his heels, “I’ll get out of your hair now, it’s getting pretty late,” Chanyeol raises his hand in a small wave as he backs away towards the door, grinning at Jongin one last time before disappearing.

It’s only when Jongin’s legs give way that he realizes just how exhausted and mentally winded he feels. He packs up his things quickly and sets off across campus to get back to his dorm, feeling the familiar bubble of anxiety rising in his chest even as he smiles to himself. 

-

It takes a while, to be honest, until he’s completely at ease. He’s still anxious and tense and it’s not easy to shake off like the initial nerves before starting something new. It goes way beyond that. 

The coffee dates become a regular thing, meeting up almost every day be it to spend time together or to work on their assignments over coffee. They move slowly, progressing step by step as they sit closer to each other, unconsciously leaning in closer to speak. Chanyeol occasionally throws an arm around Jongin’s neck and other times Jongin tentatively reaches out to tangle their fingers together while they walk. 

Jongin is apprehensive still, calculating every word he says, overthinking Chanyeol’s movements. He can’t help it; he goes home after spending a wonderful couple of hours with Chanyeol and agonizes over them, wondering where the catch is and if he still needs to be on guard. 

For all the exhausting disquiet that weighs on him though, his anxiety begins to fade and subside with every passing day, breaking down his guardedness till he feels almost perfectly at ease. He wonders if that in itself should worry him but he can’t bring himself to give it enough attention when he’s so engrossed in Chanyeol, his voice, his smile.

Talking to Chanyeol is incredibly easy; Jongin finds himself opening up readily, gradually growing more and more comfortable with sharing almost anything with him. Chanyeol’s a good listener, attentive and keen and he shares back and reciprocates so readily, it ignites that spark of budding trust that Jongin needs. 

They’re having mocha at the corner table of their usual café when Chanyeol kisses him for the first time.  He tries to point out a spot of foam on the side of Jongin’s mouth but promptly leans forward to press his lips to it, without giving him a chance to wipe it off. 

His pulls back just enough to meet Jongin’s eyes, waiting; he’s so close, Jongin can count every single eyelash. in a breath, Jongin raises a shaky hand to touch Chanyeol’s cheek softly and he decides he really wants this, he’s fast on his way to being completely head over heels and he wants this. 

So he leans forward the rest of the way to press their lips together, sighing when Chanyeol nudges his mouth open to kiss him deeper. He feels fingers coming up to cup his jaw, a thumb brushing gently along his chin and he angles his head, curling his tongue and pressing closer to Chanyeol. Their lips slide smoothly against each other, and Jongin feels more than hears the low hum Chanyeol makes.

When they break off, Chanyeol lowers his eyes with a small laugh, his slick lips. 

“What?” Jongin asks once he can form words again, certain that his face is on fire. He can see the tips of Chanyeol’s ears going red.

“Nothing it’s just…” he looks up, raking his eyes along Jongin’s face for a moment, “I’ve actually had a huge crush on you for quite a while,” he laughs awkwardly, a pretty flush colouring his cheeks. 

Jongin blinks, jerking back in surprise.

“Wha- seriously?”

“Yeah, I’ve asked Kyungsoo about you a couple of times, he’s super protective of you, you know! I swear it felt like I was in an inquisition, asking me what ‘my exact intentions’ are and all that, whatever that means…” 

Jongin laughs fondly at the image before picturing himself strangling Kyungsoo as the realization dawns on him. He pushes that thought aside though as he turns back to Chanyeol, shoulders tensing instinctively. 

“And?” he asks tentatively.

Chanyeol frowns looking confused; “And what?”

“Well, what are your ‘intentions’ then?” Jongin tries to pull off a nonchalant, breezy tone but the nervous wobble is back and evident as ever, a familiar anxious twinge in his chest.  

Closing the distance between their faces again, their noses a hair’s breadth apart, Chanyeol grins at him brightly. 

“Well, I’d really like to keep up our coffee dates, and  hold your hand and get to kiss you more,” he murmurs, trailing his lips along Jongin’s cheek, “and then ask you if you’d like to officially be my boyfriend cos I’d really like that”

He breathes out a laugh, looking almost nervous even after his confident little speech; it’s incredibly endearing and Jongin beams at him before bringing their mouths together again. 

-

He bursts into Kyungsoo’s dorm somewhere around one in the morning, panting from the run he’d taken to get there. It’s times like these where he’s grateful that Kyungsoo lucked out and got a room for himself without a roommate to disturb. 

“You knew didn’t you! You knew all along!” he wheezes out, pointing an accusing finger at Kyungsoo’s who’s lounging on his bed lazily, watching a movie on his tablet. He looks entirely unperturbed by the sudden intrusion as this hour, merely tapping the screen to pause and plucking out one of his earphones before throwing an uninterested look Jongin’s way.

“Close the door, there’s a draft coming in,” he says simply, already preparing to put the earphone back on. 

Kicking the door shut, Jongin crosses the room to plonk down on the mattress, tugging the tablet and earphones away.  Kyungsoo huffs, slumping back against the propped up pillow behind him looking almost bored.

“Hyung,” Jongin says firmly, looking him straight in the eye, waiting for an answer. The silence lingers for a moment before Kyungsoo’s face breaks into a devious smile, yelping with laughter when Jongin whacks him in the chest, dissolving into giggles too.

“You did know!” he exclaims indignantly, the chiding tone he was hoping to go for broken by his laughter; “You knew he actually liked me too? God, why didn’t you say anything?” he shakes Kyungsoo by the shoulders as the other smacks his hands away, trying to swallow down his laughter. 

“He’s just as awed by you as you are of him,” Kyungsoo concedes finally, grinning at him brightly, almost smugly. 

Jongin flushes at that but presses on, “Yes, but why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because you needed to see it for yourself,” Kyungsoo starts, sitting up straighter on his bed, “you needed weigh it out for yourself to really believe it and trust it. Both of you did. You’d never have let yourself go for it otherwise. I just made sure that he’s a good guy and let you take it from there.”

Sometimes, even after their long years of friendship since middle school, it still amazes Jongin how well Kyungsoo knows him. 

“Plus, it was incredibly amusing for me,” he goes on matter-of-factly, effectively shattering the moment as Jongin growls and pouncs on him, attacking his ticklish sides and yelping when Kyungsoo manages to pinch any inch of skin he can find. 

Eventually, they slump down tiredly half on top of each other, their laughter dying down on their lips. Kyungsoo sits up, leaning back against the wall and tugs Jongin up with him as he reaches for his tablet again and offers him an earbud. The movie plays on and Jongin drops his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder comfortably, curling his fingers around Kyungsoo’s wrist. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on the screen though he’s not really processing the images, “for…you know.”

“Anytime.”

“It’s good advice,” Jongin speaks up again after a pause, “weighing it out for yourself, trusting it and letting yourself have it. You should take it.”

Kyungsoo sighs, lowering his tablet; “Jongin–”

“Baekhyun’s a good guy, hyung.” 

Kyungsoo presses his lips together and looks at him skeptically; 

“You know Byun Baekhyun.”

“Well, not exactly,” Jongin admits, “But Chanyeol does. And you know Chanyeol, right?”

Kyungsoo frowns, looking conflicted as his brows knit together so Jongin slips his hand into one of Kyungsoo’s, squeezing before pressing on; “You trusted that he’s a good guy, and now I trust him and his judgment. And he says Baekhyun’s a good guy.”

Kyungsoo remains silent, staring down at his lap to hide the agitation Jongin knows is in his eyes. 

“I’ve got your back, like you’ve always had mine. I’m just asking you to trust me,” he uses Kyungsoo’s own words to drive the point home. “I trust that Baekhyun isn’t going to be another one like…him." 

He broaches the topic delicately, even though Kyungsoo doesn’t need to be babied through it at all. He does hit a low point every now and then though, when he thinks about it too much; bitter reminiscence. Jongin can see right where he’s cracking, and does his best to hold Kyungsoo together on those days. Experiencing an unfaithful partner, after all, tends to leave a long-term mark. 

It’s almost tragically poetic how they’ve both been reeling brokenly so long after echoes of painful memories that trap them from moving forward. They’ve been through everything together as best friends and it turns out bad experiences with romance were not excluded.  

But they look out for each other, enough to break the other out of their rut whenever they get stuck in one. And now it’s Jongin’s turn. 

Kyungsoo squeezes his fingers back, acknowledging his words without looking up at him.  

“I made sure he’s a good guy so now you can take it from there,” Jongin  echoes Kyungsoo’s words again, trying to stifle a yawn as he snuggles into Kyungsoo side. 

“Got yourself a boyfriend and now you’re a total brat, aren’t you,” Kyungsoo mutters grumpily, focusing back on the movie. He pinches his thigh for good measure, grinning fondly when Jongin yelps but only clings to his arm tighter and nuzzles his head further into Kyungsoo’s neck.