29. ALONE

“What have I done?” That must be the hundredth time Kyungsoo has evoked that same question aloud in the last two hours alone, but he cannot help it.

“I swear to god Kyungsoo if you say it one more time I’ll pour my cereal over your head.” Eun-Seo threatens from across the kitchen counter where Kyungsoo is numbly sat, head resting on his arm and gaze fixated to the same blank spot on the wall opposite him. He moans aloud, twisting his face so his next words are muffled.

“But no, really, what have I done, Eun-Seo?!” He repeats, more agitated than before as he shakes petulantly back and forth where he is sat. He looks up just in time to reel back from the threatening tilt of his sister’s cereal bowl over his head, meeting her unamused expression with a pout and another whine, “why are you acting like this in my time of need!?”

“No, I think the real question is, why are you like this?” Eun-Seo ripostes between mouthfuls, fixing Kyungsoo with a shrewd gaze. She swallows down her bite, and tilts her head to the side, “I mean, you invited Jongin to your house - so what? You guys are just hanging out. What’s so stressful?”

Kyungsoo harrumphs loudly, and corrects her, “hanging out alone. Alone. As in, just us two. No one else. By ourselves-“

“I’m aware of the meaning of alone, Kyungsoo-“

“In my room. With no one else in the house. Alone.” Kyungsoo re-emphasises, cheeks heating at the concept alone. Ever since he’d asked Jongin over after the session, and got an immediate confirmation back, his mind has been in disarray. He has no idea what he was thinking, what came over him.

“Maybe I should just cancel?” He proposes suddenly, the stress of the situation hitting him all over again. Eun-Seo, however, practically growls at the mere suggestion.

“Nu uh, no way, not happening.” She declares firmly, placing her now-empty cereal bowl unceremoniously in the sink before turning back Kyungsoo’s way. “Is there a reason you’re saying all this? Do you... not feel comfortable with the idea of being alone with Jongin?”

“No,” Kyungsoo responds instantly, surprising even himself. “It’s... not that.”

“Then, are you afraid he’s going to try something? Because if that’s the case, my lectures, I’ll stay here and-“

But Kyungsoo interrupts her, vehemently denying her words. “Of course not - Jongin isn’t like that. I trust him.” He assures, watching his sister’s shoulders sag in relief.

“Then, what?” She asks, moving around Kyungsoo to grab her bag from its place in the seat by his side.

Kyungsoo hesitates at the question, mouth falling shut. He knows exactly why he’s acting this way, and being so aimlessly dramatic, but admitting the real reason to Eun-Seo is a little embarrassing, even if it is just to her ears only. He stays silent, watching his own fingers fiddling idly on the kitchen countertop.

“Fine, you don’t want to tell me,” Eun-Seo accepts, shrugging her shoulders, “I guess the bond we’ve had these past 17 years has all been for show. Alas, the day has finally come where we stop sharing things with each other. The brother-sister relationship becomes stranger-stranger, faraway acquaintance, passer-by-“

“Okay, okay fine!!!” Kyungsoo bemoans in faux frustration, unable to hold back his laugh as he rolls his eyes his sister’s way. “Why are you always so dramatic?”

Eun-Seo shrugs, clearly pleased. “It’s one of my many endearing qualities.”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo chuckles, but the sound dies out as Eun-Seo raises a questioning brow, side against the counter to show Kyungsoo he has her full attention. He swallows, flickering his gaze back down to his fingers and to the way they twitch on the mantel before him.

“I’m just...” He starts, heart fluttering with his thoughts. “I’m nervous because, well... I’m nervous excited?” The words come out lamely, a little flustered and disjointed even to his own ears, but he really can’t think of any other way to phrase it. Whilst Kyungsoo doubts whatever is happening between Jongin and himself when they’re in a group, things are a lot harder to write-off, to explain away, when they’re by themselves. They’re far too personal, too open - all in a wondrously unapologetic way.

“He... makes me nervous in a good way.” Kyungsoo explains, voice more quiet still as he peers up to meet Eun-Seo’s gaze. She doesn’t seem surprised - honestly, she didn’t need the explanation, it’s plain as day what Kyungsoo is thinking and completely anthropomorphic, but he knows that she still likes to hear it from him first-hand.

“That makes sense,” she agrees with a small and somewhat knowing smile, eyes falling to the ground and back up in an action that makes Kyungsoo abruptly curious. He hasn’t a chance to question however for her smile widens tenfold, -eatingly, and she continues,

“Kyungsoo, do I need to have the talk with you again?” She emphasises her words, wiggling her brows.

The talk? Kyungsoo blinks a few times, wracking his brain, not getting it. “What talk?”

Eun-Seo looks delighted at the question, a bright peel of laughter falling from her lips, before she fixes Kyungsoo with a look - shrewd eyes, raised, disbelieving brows - and he gives himself another moment to think and then-

“Okay, wow, so not funny,” He blanches, swallowing around nothing and taking swiftly to nibbling down on his lower lip. “I mean, we’re not even dating and we haven’t even- well- I mean- I don’t know-“

“Haven’t even kissed?” Eun-Seo finishes for him. The question makes him tense instantly, hands moving closer to his chest from across the countertop as he locks and interlocks his fingers: together and apart, back and forth, everything in between. He doesn’t bother with a verbal response - just ducks his head down once, curtly, in soundless admission.

“Well, do you... want to kiss him?” She then asks, tone gentle, almost tentative as she poses the question.

Immediately, Kyungsoo feels heat spill into his cheeks, fanning down his neck and into his ears. Of coursehe wants to kiss Jongin. It would be amazing, Kyungsoo’s imagined - the plush of Jongin’s ever-so-soft lips dancing over Kyungsoo’s own, the taste of them, the feel. Even just thinking about it renders Kyungsoo a little breathless.

“I have... thought about it.” He admits eventually, sure by now that his skin must be blooming a bright red. “But, him coming around today does not mean that will definitely happen! We haven’t even talked about anything yet...” he trails off, lips curling into a slight pout as he mulls over the truth of that statement.

Eun-Seo only smiles at him, doesn’t tease anymore. ”Okay, well, just be safe whatever you do do-“

“I said we’re not going to do that!” Kyungsoo interrupts, cheeks hot all over again-

“That? Pray tell, what is that?” Eun-Seo teases with bright, crescent eyes.

“Ahhhh, stop talking!” Kyungsoo bemoans, holding his hands up to shield his heated face as Eun-Seo giggles from across the kitchen counter.

It’s at this time, of course - just Kyungsoo’s luck - that the doorbell rings out, signalling Jongin’s apparent arrival, and he checks his watch to see that their agreed time to meet has, in fact, snuck up on him. He swears a quiet, low swear, hissing instantly when his sister hits him across the back of his head in a faux chastise in her journey towards the door.

Kyungsoo rises hurriedly, following her in her tracks to make sure she doesn’t do or say anything embarrassing, and she chuckles at his trailing.

“I’m off to the library anyway, gosh,” she laughs, hands curling into her backpack strap. “Am I really that embarrassing?” She whisper-questions as they step out into the hallway, to which Kyungsoo only musters a small grumble of agreement, and Eun-Seo’s smile widens even more. She turns to Kyungsoo, wrapping her winter scarf around her neck with suddenly serious eyes.

“SOS if you need it, okay?” Her gaze is zealous, earnest, even as becomes shielded in a pile of scarf fabric. “I’ll send someone who can be here in five minutes tops.”

Kyungsoo’s brows furrow, immediately perturbed, “...okay, what the does that mean?” He questions in a matching, quietened tone, “who are you talking about?”

But Eun-Seo just smiles a broad smile behind her scarf and taps the side of her nose, turning to open the door.

“Wait-“ Kyungsoo interrupts when her hand falls to the handle, word spilling out before he can stop himself. Eun-Seo looks back, raised brow and to her head, and Kyungsoo feels suddenly embarrassed, stupid. “Do I, um- do I look okay?” He blushes, stretching his arms vaguely out for Eun-Seo to see.

He’d agonised a little too long and a little to much about his outfit that morning, eventually settling on a cosy turtleneck jumper and some tighter (but still comfortable) jeans that wrap nicely around his legs (Tao’s words, not his, who he’d FaceTimed in to help him out that morning).

Eun-Seo though, for once, doesn’t for his childish fretting, and her eyes instead turn soft. “You look great, kiddo,” Eun-Seo smiles a genuine smile, reaching over to ruffle a hand through his hair before he can squirm out of the way. He pouts her way but it slips away when she reaches out once more and flings the door open without another second’s hesitation to a very soft-looking Jongin standing on his doorstep.

In the quick scan Kyungsoo manages to get in before Jongin looks his way, he sees that the taller is in an all-cream get-up - a soft, fuzzy sweater paired with a thick white winter coat on top - and that, along with the image of him waiting at his doorstep, patient and bright-eyed, makes the whole look oddly heart fluttering, endearing in inexplicable ways.

“Jongin, come in!” Eun-Seo greets with unexpected exuberance, stepping back to let a momentarily startled Jongin through and into the entryway. As he moves, his gaze flickers to Kyungsoo, taking him in quickly with a big and bright smile that touches his eyes, but he doesn’t speak to him. Instead, he turns back Eun-Seo’s way and, quite abruptly, bows a huge ninety-degree bow to the lowest Kyungsoo has ever seen Jongin go before. Maybe it’s the dancer in him, but the move, though unexpected, is elegant and poised, as if it could belong to a dance routine.

Eun-Seo, with her hands, guides Jongin back up, a beam stretched across her face which he matches after a flicker, an unsure waver. When he’s upright again, she gestures for him to lean down and then of all things reaches out to pat a hand down his hair once, twice, thrice - Jongin letting it all happen much like a puppy accepting a pet.

“You did good.” Is what she says, purposefully vague and ominous, to which Jongin only smiles even wider, eyes crinkling in the corners as her hand falls back by her side and he straightens back up.

Kyungsoo watches this whole exchange silently, blinking back and forth between the two of them like he’s just missed something really important. “Um... you guys are... being weird...?” He questions a little unsurely.

Eun-Seo’s gaze lingers on Jongin a moment longer, soft eyes and praising smile, before she turns to Kyungsoo with a sudden and swift monotony to her features. “I‘ve no idea what you’re talking about, I am just greeting your friend.” She shrugs, knowing full well that the manner in which she speaks, the thinly-veiled embroidering of a faux-casual, simply confirms to Kyungsoo what he’s already guessed: something has happened between Eun-Seo and Jongin- something he doesn’t know about.

He knows not to ask now, but she still doesn’t even grant him the chance to - instead, she fills the space that Jongin has just inhabited in their hall’s entryway and waves a dismissive hand. “I’ll see you later,” she promises, and she doesn’t wait for a response when she steps out onto the landing and pulls the door close behind her in a whoosh and clutter.

The abruptness of the motion, and how swiftly it has rendered Kyungsoo and Jongin alone, alone, alone in a house far too big for them makes Kyungsoo’s heart thunder in an instant, frozen briefly in his place. A short, short silence befalls them whilst Kyungsoo realigns, calms his spiralling thoughts and worries down - it can’t realistically be more than a second, but it feels like an eternity -, and then Kyungsoo raises a shy glance up and meets Jongin’s gaze.

They halt, look at each other with vague, sheepish smiles like the smudges of a sketch or heat waves across a desert plane. And then, just as suddenly, perhaps to ease the awkwardness before it can fully settle, they both laugh - breaking out into their various tones at almost the same time, so that Kyungsoo can’t entirely be sure who has evoked it first.

The sounds dither, and then they’re left smiling in a way so familiar to them that it instantly calms Kyungsoo down, eases his nervy body.

“Hey.” He ends up saying first, lips curling up and then a little down and right back up again as he stares Jongin’s way.

Jongin chuckles, matches the greeting. “Hi.” He says, as if in agreement, approving - an introduction is a good move, he compliments. An introduction makes sense.

His gaze deviates, only for a flicker, and the set distance between them is broken first by him as he takes a step forward. Kyungsoo isn’t sure how he reacts, isn’t sure what his face must do, but it must change in a significant enough way for the way Jongin hesitates after that - ambling between far and close, and not close enough.

“Um, your-“ he starts to explain, but he lets his words die and instead uses Kyungsoo’s eyes to find an answer. Kyungsoo only stops, confused but curious, and it must be a positive response because Jongin suddenly smiles and takes enough steps forward that Kyungsoo has to turn his head up to keep looking.

Jongin’s hands raise, high enough that they linger near to Kyungsoo’s head and he understands what Jongin has been asking permission for - to touch -, though he isn’t sure why. He uses his silence as an okay, and suddenly there’s a brush of fingers in his hair, patting down what Kyungsoo realises must be a bump resulting from Eun-Seo’s earlier little ruffle.

Jongin confirms anyway, voice soft and endeared- “Your hair.” He says as the only thing, a finger lingering to pet down at one more piece before falling once more by his side.

Kyungsoo peers up at him, measures their proximity like one measures height or weight. Don’t give yourself away, he thinks desperately as he feels, without fail, the balls of his cheeks fill with heat. Don’t be so obvious. “Thanks.”

They look at each other a moment longer, still as close, so tangible, until Kyungsoo can’t bear it. He flickers his gaze away, shuffles back once in as discreet a manner as he can muster and gestures with his head to a stand just behind Jongin.

“Um- you can hang your coat there,” he explains, which Jongin steadfastly does, Kyungsoo moving slightly further back on his route to the kitchen but also lingering, dwindling so that Jongin is still in sight.

“Did you want something to drink?” He asks whilst still in the hallway, allowing Jongin a moment to get his things together. Jongin does, and Kyungsoo stares plainly at him - the softness of his outfit reinstates itself, coat now out of the way, and the whole look makes Kyungsoo swallow against a lump in his throat. “Water? Coffee? Green tea?” He goes on, as Jongin peers up, taking off his shoes without being asked and placing them with all the rest, and that image - Jongin’s shoes slotted in so swiftly, so naturally with all the other members of Kyungsoo’s family - is cruel in so many ways. In that, Kyungsoo glimpses what his life would look like if Jongin were his boyfriend, and his family were to accept him wholly, with open arms, regardless of Kyungsoo’s uality. It’s so small, so insignificant - but in that moment Kyungsoo’s whole being aches for that so ardently he can feel it in every fibre of his being.

Jongin straightens, and Kyungsoo drops the thought - eyes darting away. He starts speaking without thinking, desperate to shun that image from his mind. “I’m sorry, I should’ve bought you some slippers.” He flusters, not looking Jongin right in the eye. “I would say you can borrow my dad’s, but he’s very particular about his slippers, and I would definitely offer you mine, but I’m sure they’d be a little small-“

“Kyungsoo, it’s fine,” Jongin smiles, interrupting. “And just some green tea sounds good.”

Kyungsoo nods once, smile sheepish, before turning towards the kitchen once more and gesturing vaguely for Jongin to follow.

“You can sit,” Kyungsoo offers, pointing vaguely to the seats at the kitchen counter, Jongin taking one with a small ‘thank you’ and a smile. Before he can fluster over things, Kyungsoo goes immediately to the kettle, filling it with water and setting it to boil before grabbing a couple of mugs and a teapot and placing those in front of Jongin. The hum of the kettle allows the silence between them a soothing accompaniment, one which neither party breaks.

Eventually, Kyungsoo moves to the cupboard where the green tea is kept, closest to the counter where Jongin is sat, and opens it up, only to his head back and frown when he sees how the packet has been pushed further back than is usual. He clears his throat, and, slightly embarrassed, tiptoes just once to see if he can get to it, but it’s already on the highest shelf and he doesn’t want to look stupid. Instead, he turns on the spot, about to reach down to grab the small kitchen stool from underneath the sink, but he startles and stills when he is faced instead with Jongin’s chest, the boy reaching up over his head without pre-warning. Kyungsoo pinks instantly, slightly mortified as he stares down and tries to avoid looking at Jongin’s chest right in front of his face.

“The loose-leaf sencha, right?” The taller confirms, rifling through the packets above.

Kyungsoo’s fingers coil, nails digging into his palm. “You can- grab the camomile if you want.”

But Jongin must sense something in his tone for he suddenly draws back, looking down to the way Kyungsoo has his head ducked, his cheeks pinked and eyes slightly bulged in shock. Kyungsoo’s gaze flickers to meet Jongin’s, hold him to attention, and Jongin only holds the tea out towards him for him to take without further comment.

Kyungsoo swallows, tries not to look to disappointed at the prospect of less of this, less of him so near and so potent, and tries not to wince when they’re fingers brush briefly as he reaches to relieve him of the packet. “Thanks,” he manages, Jongin smiling briefly before moving back to the counter and settling back down.

Kyungsoo in turn goes back to his teapot, adding the leaves and hot water before turning Jongin’s way as he allows it time to brew, edging closer to lean his side on the mantel and speak.

Jongin starts, the same sort of question he often starts with- “How’s your voice?”

Kyungsoo tries not to smile too obviously, mouth twitching up and down at the sides.

“Oh it’s- actually a lot better today - basically back to normal.” He assures, hands falling to his throat to trace fingers gently over the skin there. “I attribute it to Ryeowook’s ominous throat recipe.” He laughs lightly.

At this, Jongin’s interest is immediately piqued. “Ryeowook gave you a throat remedy? In person?” He questions, arms folded loosely on the counter before him.

“Yeah, I mean, he dropped it off,” Kyungsoo shrugs, settling opposite Jongin as they wait for their tea to brew. “It was a little unexpected though - I didn’t even tell him about my throat. He must have secret telepathic powers or something...” Kyungsoo laughs, fiddling with his own fingers as he speaks. Jongin only hums back, but it sounds off enough for Kyungsoo to glance back up, trying to mask his surprise at the shrewd, unreadable look playing across Jongin’s handsome features.

“Does he do that often?” Jongin asks, in, Kyungsoo sees, much the same way someone who is feigning indifference would. “Come here, I mean?” He clarifies.

Kyungsoo’s lip ticks, but he doesn’t call Jongin out for anything. “Not often, no,” He says instead, turning his head inquisitively to the side. “But, I mean, my parents know him and he’s comfortable in my house.” He goes on, eyes turning a little distant as he recalls those days. Ryeowook really had been such a strong presence among himself and his family whilst he was Kyungsoo’s vocal coach - both for lessons and just otherwise, for every time their parents had had him stay for a meal (back when his parents were actually up-to-date with his and Eun-Seo’s lives anyway). It settles uneasily in Kyungsoo’s gut right then and there - Kyungsoo has lost so many people before, but losing Ryeowook had hit home, messed with routine, and noting his absence in that moment hurts. “He was a big part of my life once.”

He shakes out of his reverie, gaze refocusing on Jongin as he attempts a smile, but he stops short when he sees Jongin’s lips tick just slightly, as if aggravated or perturbed. It takes him a minute to place the expression as what it is, and when he does it has him grinning without help.

“You really don’t like him, huh?” Kyungsoo questions, already knowing the answer from the clear distaste plastered on Jongin’s face.

Jongin’s lips turn sheepish, genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, I- I don’t know why.” Though the words come out staggered, hesitant - tellingly false. Kyungsoo peers a moment longer, trying to work out the minuscule detail, the nuances in Jongin’s expression, but he doesn’t push it further.

Instead, he shrugs, speaking his thoughts aloud. “I feel like you two would get along, though.” He admits plainly. It’s something he’d pondered over randomly a little while ago - how, whilst the two admittedly had their differences, they also had many similarities. “I mean, you both love the arts. You’re also both very... passionate?” He ends, though really he’d been thinking ill-tempered, the memory of the way the two had turned so immediately to confrontation at his doorstep playing over in his mind.

Jongin only scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I highly doubt that,” he says, though if he’d meant to sound harsh the mission is lost by the way he follows the statement off with the plush of his lips curled into a pout.

Kyungsoo laughs a tinkling laugh, and raises an accusatory finger without thinking-

“Is that a pout?-“

-only to stop short, staring intently at the way the pad of his index finger is suddenly hovering over Jongin’s lips, the barest centimetre apart from his touch. He pauses a second (long enough to be telling) as his heart stumbles in his chest, but he eventually gathers himself enough to pull back, gaze skirting away so as to avoid meeting Jongin’s own.

He makes himself busy quickly, turning to the teapot and carefully splitting the tea between two mugs to let the moment pass, before setting the pot aside and finally turning back Jongin’s way.

“So um... we can go up to my room?” He suggests, gently placing Jongin’s mug down on the mantle before where he is sat, not meeting his eyes.

He sees Jongin move before he speaks, fingers curling into the handle of his mug- “yeah, sure.” He agrees, words soft.

Kyungsoo leads the way, nibbling aggressively at his lips as he goes. He had been most nervous about this - Jongin being in his room - but not for the obvious reasons. It’s just that his room is a very private place, and a lot of Kyungsoo is in there. It feels very personal - letting Jongin in.

It’s why he finds himself hesitating briefly before his door, turning fully to face Jongin as if to provide some sort of explanation.

“It’s, um-“ he starts, stopping when the words escape him. “Well, it’s...”

But, unable to explain, he just sighs and smiles a soft smile.

“Just see.” He says as the only thing, making his tone light even as his heart speeds a little from nerves.

Opening up the door, he walks backwards into his room, facing Jongin’s expression as he looks curiously around. He sees the exact moment when Jongin’s gaze, fervent and searching, falls to the wall next to Kyungsoo’s bed and fixate to what covers it.

Kyungsoo steps back, following Jongin’s eyes. “I get insomnia," he says, "sometimes. When I can't sleep, I work on that."

Now that it's been brought to attention, Kyungsoo feels its presence more strongly than before. His eyes trail over the cacophony of texture and colour strewn across his wall. There're papers of all types: crisp, white note paper, scraps of grey, yellow, crafty slabs of card, anything he could get his hands on in the din of the night. Corners and edges curl and peel out towards him, like the words are fighting for a new place, to be heard and seen from outside of these four walls, stretching away from a dim life of permanence, aching for an infinity. The words are in different sizes, different serifs and fonts, some ink black and some red, some bold and underlined a dozen times over, highlighted with harsh, hurried . It screams urgency, and is everything Kyungsoo is inside; messy, tarnished, a voice without sound. It's him at his most unguarded, in a sleep-deprived need to create, when he hears no lyrics or tunes but only raw, aggravated speed of language.

Taking Jongin to his room isn't just a simple case of stepping into Kyungsoo's personal space, it's about stepping into Kyungsoo's mind, the deepest thoughts he's never shared and can’t even himself make sense of. This is Kyungsoo vulnerable, personified and etched into a stretch of wall for all to see, and it’s definitely terrifying.

For a long while that feels a lot longer than it probably is, Jongin just looks soundlessly about himself, eyes fluttering and darting like he doesn’t know what to focus on. Kyungsoo can’t really blame him: it’s a mess, and whilst to Kyungsoo there is a structure to the chaos, on face-value he can definitely understand a person being overwhelmed by it.

“This is amazing.” Jongin evokes eventually, voice so genuinely awed that Kyungsoo, startled by the taller’s word choice, feels suddenly shy.

“Amazing?” He echoes, rubbing bashfully at the back of his neck as he tries the label out, but as he stares at that stretch of wall before him - gaze trailing over it from top to bottom - he can’t for the life of him make sense of such a descriptor: it’s just his head - his head but tangible, readable. It’s nothing special, nothing worth looking at.

“It is amazing.” Jongin repeats the word, more conviction behind it as if he can sense Kyungsoo’s weariness. “Truly.”

His neck twists, gaze fluttering everywhere and back. “I didn’t know you had insomnia?” He asks out of the blue, like he’s suddenly thought of it, turning his head Kyungsoo’s way in inquisition. He fixes Kyungsoo with a gaze of wonder, like he hadn’t realised there were things they didn’t share; Kyungsoo clears his throat, tries not to feel nervy under the taller’s heavy stare.

“It’s- I don’t know, I had it more when I was younger, though it comes and goes.” He blurts out, then his form sags a little as he looks to some of his old pieces, remembers distinctly how he had felt writing them as if it had been just yesterday; that was the worst thing about keeping a record. “It definitely . Somedays, I could be exhausted - literally dragging my feet, I’m that tired - but I still wouldn’t be able to sleep.

What Kyungsoo doesn’t tell him is how it all started, how most things in Kyungsoo’s life started: 4 years ago now, when walking the school corridors both alone and alone, and with half a school’s worth of people disgusted by him - a fact he was constantly reminded of by how a sneer or glare was sent his way for every turn he took.

“This wall... helped a lot actually.” He only realises now he’s taking the time to consider it. He remembers days where he’d rush back from school and scrawl his emotions out on any medium he could get his hands on. It was only after doing this that he could ever seem to focus on school work, or to sleep on those countless restless nights. “I know it looks small I guess but... it helped me a lot, back in the day.” He ends up repeating, unsure how else to say it.

Jongin, in any case, looks at him with a strange, almost-awed character to his eyes, and any prior worries Kyungsoo had over the other’s reaction seem to dissipate on the spot. Jongin looks away again after a moment, setting his tea mug down on the side table as he edges closer to the wall, but not before stopping and turning Kyungsoo’s way-

“Is it okay if I-“ he starts to ask, pointing vaguely to a corner of the wall, but Kyungsoo smiles, setting his own mug down beside Jongin’s. He’d thought about it properly before taking Jongin up here: even if it’s a little daunting, he doesn’t mind Jongin knowing about his thoughts of the past - and, in any case, he reckons Jongin must’ve picked up on a lot of it from the snippets Kyungsoo’s shared in the support group sessions.

Jongin immediately moves forward and, instead of halting when his knees touch Kyungsoo’s bed, he climbs on top with an ease and swiftness that makes Kyungsoo halt. Jongin doesn’t notice, fingers brushing lightly over some sheets of paper plastered to Kyungsoo’s wall as his eyes scan the particular piece he’d gesticulated towards earlier. Kyungsoo’s fluster wavers when he realises what Jongin has found - a song. In fact, one of the last songs he’d been able to draft following his school outing, before all his drive and desire to sing and write had completely dissipated away. Jongin must’ve noticed it, over everything else, because of the title sprawled in thick black marker at the top of the page - clear as day, legible as soon as you pass through the doorway into Kyungsoo’s room.

P.C.H.

For Park Chin Ho - the leader.

“I won’t read it, of course,” Jongin assures, gaze fixated only to those large, emboldened letters as if in a trance. “I just... I didn’t think about it. The idea that you must’ve written about him.”

Kyungsoo smiles softly, stepping forward to place his tea next to Jongin’s and perching gingerly on the edge of his bed. He stares up at Jongin from where he is sat, the taller meeting his gaze even from his raised position. “It’s a good song,” he says as the only thing.

Jongin’s lips thin, and he abruptly crouches down, so that they’re suddenly at perfect eye level. Kyungsoo doesn’t pull back at the sudden proximity, doesn’t even move as Jongin fixes him with a deep, severe sort of look.

“Did he-“ he starts, but he bites at his lips and retries - the skin there pinking beneath his teeth in a change that Kyungsoo instinctively follows. “Was Chin Ho always like that with people?” Is what Jongin ends up asking, eyes zealous, earnest in ways that make the russet brown shades of his iris’ shine more potently.

Kyungsoo swallows, gnawing gently at the inside of his gums as he considers the question and how he should answer it. In the end, resigned, and with his gaze still locked to Jongin, he chooses to be honest.

“Well...” he starts, “I think my... coming out, started a lot of the bad stuff.” He sums up, “he hates me for it, especially the whole stuff with-“ Kyungsoo starts to say, but he stops himself short, not wanting to go on - not to Jongin, at the very least, not about a memory that makes him feel so weak.

“Well, anyway,” Kyungsoo brushes the conversation away, “he led the others, and made it worse. He didn’t even really hesitate - it was like it flipped a switch in him. Not a bully, to a bully.” Kyungsoo realises thoughtfully, lips pursed as he considers it. “I don’t know that he was even a bad guy before then...”

It has been something Kyungsoo has wondered about himself - why Kyungsoo’s coming out had appeared to affect the leader so much. He’d always just thought it was homophobia, but he also knows that people can do that quietly, kept to themselves. The leader, on the other hand, had made a 180 in a way that was both loud and unapologetic. Everything mean and harsh about him stemmed from Kyungsoo’s outing all those years back.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t get it,” Jongin says eventually, “homophobia, I mean…”

Kyungsoo smiles softly in agreement. “I don’t think we’ll ever get it...” He ripostes, gaze finally dropping as he turns his head to his own knees.

But then suddenly there are fingers at his chin, gently coaxing, tilting his head back up, and Kyungsoo goes without question, his heart trembling in his throat in a shaky, exhilarated way. Jongin’s eyes are pearly, like whispers of tears before they can even really form, and he fixes Kyungsoo with a look that renders him motionless. Kyungsoo’s heart suddenly feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, blood pounding so heavily in his ears that he feels like he can barely hear. And then, in a voice so soft and bare it rattles through Kyungsoo’s whole form-

“What could be wrong with this?” Jongin questions to the room, lips barely moving, words weighted by their meaning. Kyungsoo thinks he stops breathing, stops functioning, when Jongin - almost in slow motion - moves quietly forward. The distance between them dissipates like trickles of water down a fountain, and in such a vague, muddled way that Kyungsoo isn’t sure if it’s Jongin leaning in, or himself, or both- just knows that they’re getting closer and closer and his heart is beating faster and faster and-

RING.

The sudden trill shocks through them, both boys moving abruptly back as Jongin gasps aloud, delving into his pocket to retrieve his ringing phone with his expression a mixture of poorly-veiled frustration and embarrassment. The boy only grunts once more when he sees the caller, muttering out a small apology Kyungsoo’s way before picking up with barely-disguised bluntness-

“Yes, Taemin, what?” He asks, sounding a little breathless, voice higher than his usual tone. Kyungsoo settles comfortably back in place as he waits, cheeks most definitely pink and fingers twitching by his side. They’d been about to-

“Well, yes, just a little...” Jongin responds to something Taemin had said. Kyungsoo, with his head turned away, unconsciously swipes his index finger over his own lower lip, dropping it almost immediately after when his brain catches up. “You know where I am. Yes, that was today-“ Jongin stutters out the words, seeming slightly embarrassed by himself. “Listen, I’ll call you back?” He finishes, and though Kyungsoo can’t decipher any real words, the rumble through the phone that follows seems filled with mirth and tease.

“Right, okay, yeah- bye,” Jongin hangs up quickly, his cheeks blooming an obvious red. Kyungsoo looks Jongin’s way to meet his eyes, but they’re suddenly so nervy and shy - the moment well and truly passed. The harsh pound of Kyungsoo’s heart slows just slightly, a mix of disappointment and frustration swirling uncomfortably in his gut.

But though the both of them know what had been about to happen, neither of them to want to comment on it; instead, Jongin settles back down in the space beside Kyungsoo, the two decidedly avoiding each other’s eyes, so that it takes a good few minutes for them to get back to a normal state.

“Damn you, Taemin...” Kyungsoo can’t help but to think privately to himself a little later on, when Jongin is speaking and Kyungsoo finds his gaze drawn unconsciously to the taller’s lips. “Damn you.”

A/N:

Sorry this update was a little later - I had exams and had been revising like crazy >.< I finally edited this to have it up for you guys today, so I hope you guys enjoy.

Please leave your opinions in the comment section below - I love reading them xxx