‘you know, jongin,’ sehun is beginning to grow impatient, leg fidgeting with unease as the minutes tick nonchalantly by. ‘people come to establishments such as these to order something, anything.’

the bubble tea joint is somewhat crowded during the lunch hour, low-hummed conversations taking place over cups of oolong or matcha. sehun could have spoken to anyone, but he’d chosen to sit with his idiot of a best friend.

jongin leans back lazily, a smirk dancing on his lips. ‘we’ve been through this before, you er, i don’t like—’

‘bubble tea, i know,’ sehun rolls his eyes at jongin’s apparent obstinacy. ‘makes you nauseous and whatnot. why bother coming here, then?’

‘you’re adorable, getting all worked up over something so small.’ jongin resists the urge to ruffle his best friend’s hair. ‘i like it here. simple as that. the place is homey. just order something, god damn it, i’m not stopping you.’

sehun bites his lip, playing with his fingers almost embarrassedly. ‘but i’ve never ordered alone before.’

jongin never orders bubble tea, but he does offer to line up with sehun. ‘i had an epiphany yesterday.’

‘let me guess,’ sehun drawls, counting the last of his change before popping the straw on his drink. ‘you’ve finally realized how lovely and amazing and wonderful a person i actually am.’

you always have been, is what jongin wants to say, but—‘no, you narcissistic bastard. i was in my room when it came to me.’ he pauses for drama, somewhat breathless at the sunlight framing sehun’s face in a halo of brightness. ‘we are all nothing but a speck of glitter in a world of artificiality.’

‘mm-hmm,’ sehun remains stoic, lips gnawed between his teeth in doubt and question. he’s used to these "epiphanies" by now. ‘and this realization came to you as you were wanking off to maria ozawa, yeah?’

‘precisely. how’d you guess?’ jongin effectively ignores the ridicule in sehun’s voice, pulling his best friend by the elbow back down to their seats. ‘anyway, that’s not the point.’

‘right, sure. okay, then, sherlock. i have a question for you. has it ever occurred to you that all the time you spend philosophizing about life could have been better spent actually trying to get a life?’

jongin makes a face, but says nothing more. ‘smartass.’

—

hours pass, and more of jongin’s weird but humorous thoughts on the existence of unicorns and dodo birds has sehun laughing through his drink, and on his fourth cup of chocolate bubble tea, sehun asks, ‘what do you want out of life? do you even have a ing goal, is the better question.’

‘why must you think so little of me,’ jongin pouts. sehun almost chokes on a tapioca pearl holding back his laughter. ‘i want to be remembered.’

‘huh,’ sehun twirls his straw in an attempt to sip the last pearl through the ice. typical of jongin to say something as trivial. the familiarity makes him smile with pride. ‘others would’ve wanted to be filthy rich, or to actually be the next ing bill gates. but yours is quite great, i suppose.’

‘i don’t wanna invest my heart and soul into something that others cannot see or appreciate. i don’t want to be forgotten for, let’s say, being a danseur.’

sehun knows. he can no longer count the number of times he’s been rendered speechless by the fluidity of jongin’s bones, the rhythm in his body as he pirouettes gracefully through the air. ‘imagine the many things we’ve forgotten, though. the many occasions and responsibilities that have slipped through our minds to pave way for better or worse things.’

‘well,’ jongin mumbles, gaze meeting sehun’s. ‘i think i made a good decision moving out to seoul.’

sehun chuckles. ‘look where that got you.’

jongin thinks he’s perfectly happy being here as he mirrors sehun’s smile. ‘indeed.’

—

as the sky grows darker, jongin grows more nervous. he could almost hear time tick from his wristwatch, almost panicking at the sight of sehun’s bored expression and droopy eyes. ‘uhmm, i’ve been thinking. isn’t christmas the best time of the year?’

sehun watches him carefully through winced eyes. ‘i guess. i prefer birthdays, though, because you have a day for yourself.'

‘christmas is the highlight of my year. the epitome of a perfect holiday. you know. the lights and all that jazz. it’s just so ing surreal all the time.’

‘how the hell are we friends again, kim jongin?’ sehun pretends he didn’t see jongin cringe at the label.

jongin continues, nonetheless. ‘and here’s the thing: what if mistletoes were used as baits by cannibals? you lure someone in for a kiss, then bite their face off triumphantly. it should work perfectly. the lonely ones would want a kiss during the holidays. actually, no—anyone can fall victim.’

‘jesus ing christ, jongin, how do you sleep at night?’

‘i have a wild imagination,’ jongin shrugs.

'tell me about it.'

and then jongin falls perfectly still—quiet and haunting like the absence of an orchestral piece on a vast stage.

jongin has been acting strange lately, sehun realizes. he speaks more—babbling nonsensical theories and epic randomness that it sometimes annoys him. jongin has made a habit of asking sehun about his day on a regular basis, offering to tutor him on subjects that drives sehun up the wall (and into the fiery pits of mathematical doom). his best friend has also been uncharacteristically treating him to lunch and more bubble tea when he gets the chance, just ‘cause it’s tuesday. he’d even gone so far as to pull an all-nighter with sehun watching reruns of his favorite show, heating popcorn and fighting the urge to doze off despite having been exhausted from hours of dance practice.

the conversations dwindle for the past hour, and sehun could feel his back cramping from sitting for too long. the silence is killing him, slowly and agonizingly so. he figures he misses the insane outbursts already, thoughts once aired carelessly replaced with the deafening sound of nothingness. he never despises them—quite the opposite, actually. not only does it save him from thinking of things to say, but it keeps him entertained and interested. they are small bits of jongin escaping his best friend’s very lips, pieces of himself sehun has kept all these years.

but jongin might’ve taken interest in the empty cups, staring at them as if they would magically refill themselves anew, and sehun briefly wonders if the cups have become more interesting a company than he.

‘you’ve become awfully silent, jong-,’ sehun breaks the silence. ‘what’s up?’

jongin grows frigid, but he does look up with light in his eyes. ‘uhmm. i’ve been wanting to say something that’s been on my mind lately—four years to be exact. i meant to tell you sooner, but i lost track of time. it happens when you’re around.’

‘let me guess,’ sehun leans in, smirk teasing and somewhat inviting. ‘it took you four years to ask me why animals could never speak the same language as we do so you can properly train your dogs to pee on anything but your clothes, or if god and buddha co-exist on the same kind of heaven and have, say, beer while deciding over the welfare of humans. jesus, jongin, where do you even think of all of these?’

‘what? i wasn’t—’ jongin sighs, scratching his head like he would when his thoughts scatter. ‘it’s—i’ve been trying to gather up the courage and confidence to say it. it’s something i’ve known for a while now.’

sehun tilts his head to the side inquisitively, but still in a rather playful manner. ‘why so serious, jong-, i made it pretty obvious i was kidding.’

‘sehun. i—err—god ing damn it. i like you. i ing like you, you stupid noodle. i probably always have.’ jongin starts fidgeting again, face burning and dignity slipping away under sehun’s bewildered stare. ‘y-you’re the only person who knows of my crazy thoughts—not even kyungsoo knows about my theories, and i can’t stop thinking about you, sehun. believe me, i’ve tried. but at the end of the day, it’s you who i want talk to; it’s you who i want to see.’ he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. ‘there. i said it.’

sehun keeps silent, kicking himself mentally for having been so blind. it had been in between jongin’s stammering whenever he looked him in the eye, his inability to hang up when sehun gushes over a campus crush, or when he would hold sehun’s hand while he cries over the death of his favorite fictional characters—the fact that jongin comes along for bubble tea even if he hates it just because sehun is over the moon when he takes his first sip. it had been there all along.

sehun chuckles, low and sweet to jongin’s ears as his cheeks color with warmth. ‘so… you like me, huh?’

‘that’s one way of putting it,’ jongin grins, completely laid back and mesmerized by sehun’s presence, very much like the first time in that very same store all those years ago. ‘another would be to say i’m head-over-ing-heels in love with you, but hey, that’s just me.’

sehun’s smile, perfect and unguarded, tells jongin of the many possibilities he’s ever dreamed of.