Pure #53: Through Train Rides and Polaroids (fate brings me to you) [Part 2/2]

[kaisoobiography]

///

December

Somewhere between train rides, busy stations, ticket numbers, and the blurred faces of strangers-Kyungsoo finds his way into Jongin’s home.

It’s an unusual feeling, being in someone else’s home. Standing in the threshold of Jongin’s apartment-the dark hardwood flooring cold against the soles of his feet, the room chilly from the air outside, and the entry way that ends in a room full of furniture-is noticeably foreign. Jongin is all smiles while Kyungsoo examines the room without moving. He notices the smell first. Of course the smell is the first to hit his senses; a gust of something floral (lavender, perhaps?) creeping up his nose and registering as pleasant; welcoming. Kind of like that goddamn shampoo.

The second thing he notices is the sound of a television and shouting from someone he doesn’t recognize. And then Jongin speaks, shy in the way he chuckles like he’s embarrassed. “That’s Sehun,” he says.

“Oh.” Kyungsoo remembers when Jongin had mentioned he had a roommate.

“Sehun!” He shouts, like they’re not indoors. Kyungsoo winces and plugs his ears, shooting a glare at him. Jongin only grins and shrugs in response.

“What?!” The sounds stop. Kyungsoo follows Jongin as he leads him down the entry way and to the living room.

“I’m home, I brought a guest.” There’s a table that sits in the hallway, dark black wood with a single drawer that has a bronze handle. Air freshener and a variety of scented candles sit on the surface. “Sehun likes the smell of that,” Jongin says when he notices Kyungsoo reading the labels; pumpkin spice, lemon scented, and the lavender scented air freshener. “He hoards a bunch of scented candles in his room, too; caramel, cinnamon, apple, gingerbread. He likes that kind of stuff.” Jongin tells him about how he’s sensitive to smells, and can only handle a few scents. The air freshener is one of his limits, and the scent reminds him of his sister that he doesn’t get to see. “Her job requires for her to leave the country frequently. We only see each other every few months.”

Sehun is sitting on the single couch when they enter the living room. It’s a black leather; a stark contrast to the white walls and dark hardwood flooring. Their space isn’t huge. There’s a glass sliding door across from the couch with a distance of maybe 5 bodies. A balcony rests just behind those glass doors, a scene of the city in the distance and a neighborhood park. The balcony isn’t that big either, it’s narrow and the white banister is chipping. There’s a television shoved into the corner of their livingroom, right next to the hallway that leads to what can only be assumed as their bedrooms, and a video game paused on the screen as music fills the room. In the other corner, there’s a table shoved there with picture frames. The walls have shelves with medals, a small portrait, a few more pictures.

Kyungsoo doesn’t realize he’s staring until he hears Sehun speak up. “So, Kyungsoo, right?” Kyungsoo nods, turning his attention towards Sehun. He only now takes in his face. He looks bored, and if he didn’t know that they live in a small and cheap apartment, he’d think the guy was some spoiled brat with endless money to spend. His hair is dyed blonde; he sits with an air of confidence. But Jongin had talked about him before. He had said that Sehun’s often misjudged because of his resting expression and his confidence. (“It’s not a bad thing to be confident,” Jongin had explained. “I kind of wish that I was as confident as he is sometimes.”) Jongin talked about Sehun as if he were a boy talking about the older brother he looks up to, despite the fact that Jongin is older by one year.

“Kyungsoo, this is Sehun. Sehun, this is Kyungsoo.” Jongin says, a little late in his introduction. But he’s rubbing the back of his neck, shy and embarrassed. It’s cute; always so cute.

Kyungsoo doesn’t get to stay and talk to Sehun a little more, because he’s asking to see Jongin’s art work, and is then lead down the hallway. It’s dim, the lights switched off, and the walk short.

Kyungsoo’s never really entertained the thought of what Jongin’s room must look like. It was never something of importance, and so he doesn’t know what to expect when Jongin leads him down the narrow hallway-Sehun’s shouting in the distance as his game resumed-and into his room.

With the flip of a light switch, the room is suddenly doused in a warm light. Canvases cover the expanse of a wall, framed photographs hung up in a variety of spots. The space isn’t too large; it fits his bed pressed up against the wall, a desk with a laptop open to what looks like photoshop with an image of a yellow bird uploaded, and there is enough space between the two for a mat where a canvas and palettes sit. The canvas is painted blue; a variety of pinks, greens, and orange colored acrylic paint spread out.

“I don’t always paint in here,” Jongin says. Kyungsoo diverts his gaze away from the canvas and towards Jongin. “I have an art studio down the hall that I use but I keep all of my art for assignments in here.”

Kyungsoo catches sight of one of the images that Jongin must have photographed: a blue flower with a butterfly sitting perfectly on the petal, the light hitting at just the right angle to make the complimentary colored wings shine.

It’s simply beautiful; all of it is. He takes a moment to walk around the space, taking in each piece of art, and feeling his heart swell with admiration. “Wow,” is all that Kyungsoo can say. He bends down to look at one canvas with a painting of the park he remembers seeing outside their balcony. It’s different, more destroyed like something out of a dystopian movie; abandoned, dark, with greys and blacks and ugly greens. “Wow,” he says again. He stands up and looks at Jongin. “Wow.”

“Wow,” Jongin copies with a grin. And if Kyungsoo’s not mistaken, he looks pleased. Pride and relief are mixed and etched into the emotion on his face and in his body language.

“Don’t get cocky,” Kyungsoo teases. But Jongin’s still grinning, practically smirking. “You should paint me.”

Jongin laughs then, more of a chuckle. “Hell no,” he says between laughs. “Painting people is too stressful.” He goes to take up the canvas that’s on the floor, along with the tubes of paint and the paintbrushes. He moves them to his bed, most likely afraid that they might get damaged.

It’s a little later that they find themselves sitting on Jongin’s floor with their backs against the bedframe, simply talking like they would on the train. The light outside the window is orange, the room darkening as the sun retreats and the moon rises.

“My art is going to be put on display,” Jongin says suddenly. Kyungsoo goes wide-eyed with surprise and a smile makes its way onto his lips. He looks at Jongin with a rush of proud feelings hitting at once, and Jongin is just as proud. “I meant to tell you earlier… But do you, uhm… Do you want to go? It’s not that great. It’s pretty lame, actually. I mean, it’s not like it’s some fancy exhibition or anything. It’s really just an assignment and like, the professor is putting up artwork to showcase for incoming freshman so that they can talk about the program. But, you said that you like my art work, and really, you don’t have to go. Even Sehun isn’t going. Not-not that he doesn’t want to go. He has to work and-”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. His smile settles into something smaller, but warmer; reaching his eyes where affection and care is displayed. He’s never seen Jongin talk this fast, his words a jumbled and stumbled mess of hasty excuses and explanations. It’s a new level of shy and nervousness that he’s never seen before; a new layer of Jongin. Jongin shuts up at the sound of Kyungsoo’s voice and bites at his bottom lip, toying with the flesh between his teeth. “I’ll go.”

He releases his lip in favor of beaming despite the way he tries to hold it back. “Yeah?” He asks.

“Of course.” And the silence that ensues is calming, yet the emotion and gratitude within it weighs down on them. The atmosphere is weird. Kyungsoo can’t help it when he grabs at Jongin’s hand, but Jongin doesn’t mind. Jongin’s always the one playing with his fingers anyways; making fun of how big his hand is, complimenting on how smooth and soft his skin is compared to his own dryer hands (”I fucking hate dry skin,” he’d complain).

Sehun bursts in at some point. It’s not as though the room door was closed for privacy. But Kyungsoo had, once again, forgotten about the world around them. The sound of Sehun’s video game and shouting were drowned out by the soft tone of Jongin’s voice when he speaks. His voice changes when it’s evening. He’s less excited; calms when the sun hides itself. It’s something small, insignificant, and nothing that anyone should care enough to take note of. But Kyungsoo does. He always notices the little things about Jongin, and he always cares about them. Because they’re all a part of Jongin.

“Karaoke,” Sehun says. He points at the both of them and then points behind him, gesturing for them to go to the living room. “Let’s do it.”

Kyungsoo jumps up, excited and uncaring as he takes Jongin by the hand, and follows Sehun into the livingroom. The light above them is dim; a mix of blue and purple emitting from the television. Sehun hands them microphones, and pulls up the song list. When he passes a familiar song, Kyungsoo is shouting for him to stop at the same time that Jongin does and they both pause to look at each other. Sehun rolls his eyes but smiles anyways.

“Fine, fine. Jongin always plays this song, it’s so fucking annoying.” Kyungsoo is looking at Jongin again, as if to ask “You like this song too?”. His question goes unnoticed when the song begins, and Sehun and Jongin starts butchering it with off-key notes and shouting, purposely singing it terribly. Kyungsoo watches, entertained and forgetting about the microphone in his hand.

It’s by the second chorus that Jongin pulls at his arm, and asks him to join them. “Come on, try it.” And Kyungsoo sighs, forces down whatever feeling of embarrassment might threaten to rise, and joins in. He’s awkward. He isn’t used to singing off-key. In fact, he’s not that bad of a singer, but Jongin’s encouraging him with the squeeze of his hand, and amusement in his eyes, and Kyungsoo continues through it, no longer caring.

Karaoke slows into something more serious when they get tired of screaming into the mic. Kyungsoo sings a romantic ballad that has Sehun clapping enthusiastically when it’s ended, saying something about how it made his heart flutter and how he almost fell for him. Kyungsoo finds himself lowering his gaze, flattered and shy at the compliment.

When karaoke has ended, they find themselves sitting on the couch to watch a movie. Jongin is curled into Kyungsoo’s side like he’s some kind of pillow, just like he does when they’re on the train, and he’s tired. He whispers a compliment about Kyungsoo’s voice, tells him that it’s nice and how he should be an RnB singer if he ever grows tired of literature.

Sehun comes in with popcorn, filling the room with the smell of butter, and sits on the other side of Kyungsoo. He hands over the popcorn bowl so everyone can easily reach, and when he’s curling into Kyungsoo’s other side, too, Jongin reaches out to swat at him. “Go away, he’s my pillow,” he whines. Cute.

“He’s big enough for two, shut up.”

“I’m not a pillow!” Kyungsoo complains, but his words lack any heat or irritation. Still, he shoves them both off, and Sehun whines just as much as Jongin does. He only gets half a second to miss the warmth of Jongin before he’s back to resting on him.

After the movie, Sehun retreated to his room to sleep. He said something about having an early shift and bid them goodnight. Kyungsoo and Jongin stayed on the couch.

The sky outside is now a dark blue. The stars are bright in the way that they shine. It’s silent for a while, the television turned off with nothing but the ceiling light on. The rest of the house is dark, just as quiet.

“He’s my only friend,” Jongin starts, breaking the silence between them. “He’s my only real friend.” Kyungsoo listens. “Well, you are, too. But I don’t trust easily, you know. And I don’t like having a lot of friends. That’s not me. I like privacy; I like intimate and long relationships more than something short with people that aren’t going to be there when I need them. And Sehun’s always been here.”

“And me?” Kyungsoo asks. It’s the first time that Jongin has ever opened up like this. In the few months that they’ve known each other, Kyungsoo never knew what Jongin valued, or who he held close.

“And you?” Jongin’s straightening himself up so that he can’t look at Kyungsoo properly.

Kyungsoo nods. “What do you think of me?” He clarifies. Sehun is Jongin’s only real friend: someone he trusts greatly. Kyungsoo hasn’t been friends with Jongin for nearly as long as those two have. Yet, Jongin considers him a friend; considers him as a person that fits into the same category as Sehun. He needs to know why, wants to know what’s so special.

Jongin’s eyes move to his lap like he’s hesitant and unsure, then returns his gaze to meet Kyungsoo’s eyes once again. “You’re… you’re gentle, kind, and also funny when you want to be. You’re different, a little weird in the way that you talk before thinking, or when you don’t talk at all. And I can never figure out what you’re thinking. Sometimes you look like you have a lot that you want to say, but you never say it. Sometimes you look like you’re in pain.”
“Do I look like I’m in pain?” Kyungsoo asks, surprised. He never really noticed. He didn’t think that Jongin would notice the little things; the same kind of little things that he notices about Jongin. Like the way that Jongin looks like he’s had his own share of pain. How he’s insecure, yet confident. A weird mix between the two.

“Sometimes. It’s more like you’re holding yourself back. You want to say something or do something but you’re scared to do it, or you’re denying yourself the satisfaction of doing it. Like when I do this…” Jongin looks down, and he doesn’t move for a second. He looks like he’s questioning whether or not he should finish what he’s saying. Then he grabs at Kyungsoo’s hands, wraps his hand around his fingers. Kyungsoo’s heart stutters. Jongin looks up again. “Like right now. You’re wearing that look again.”

And okay, maybe Jongin knows him better than he thought. Because he wants something, something a little more. Wants to intertwine fingers, kiss at cheeks-at lips. Wants to say that he’s only in pain because he has a friendship that he wants to keep, doesn’t want to spoil it with feelings that are still premature, still developing. Yet… He knows that Jongin knows. He knows what Jongin is hinting at.

The air is heavy with a tension. It’s a kind of tension where words rest on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be said. Words to confirm that yes, Jongin is right, he wants to do-and say-more. That Jongin does know what he’s thinking, can decipher him so easily.

But those words aren’t said.

“And you’re quiet,” Jongin says, changing the topic as he lets go of Kyungsoo’s hands. He misses it. “But I like the quiet type.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to come onto me.” Jongin smirks, the damn flirt. Kyungsoo shoves him, snickering.

Jongin’s smirk settles into a warm smile. “But seriously, I trust you.”

And Kyungsoo likes that. Those words resonate with him, his heart absorbing the meaning and making him feel funny. He likes being one of the few people that Jongin lets in.

And maybe those words that rests on their tongues will be said one day. But there’s more to learn about each other, more that needs to be said, before they can ever make it past their lips.

///

The day of the student exhibition comes much faster than anticipated. They’re in the school’s performing arts center, standing in the crowded hallway. It’s filled with groups of people, art that hangs on the walls, and paintings that sit on easels. There’s another room where more art resides but it’s filled with too much chatter, too many strangers, and Jongin is avoiding his professor like the plague.

“She’s going to make me talk if I see her,” he says as he grabs hold of Kyungsoo’s hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He leads him away from the crowded hallway, and down a different hallway where the lights are off, implying that it’s off-limits. But Jongin doesn’t seem to care. “I hate talking,” he complains. “And I didn’t prepare for this. She told us at the last minute, and I don’t want to face them.” He gives Kyungsoo an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I know I asked you to come and see my art, and now I’m avoiding it, and you came here for nothing…”

“It’s okay.” And it is okay, because the truth is that he doesn’t mind going anywhere if it means he’ll get to spend time with Jongin. And yeah, he wants to see him, and yeah, he likes his company. “Actually, if you want to escape, I know a nearby place that sells hot dogs. We can go and get something to eat?” He offers.

He can see the wave of relief that washes over Jongin at the opportunity to ditch. They’re in college-they’re Sophomores to be exact-and yet they’re here, ditching an event like they’re back in high school.

Their hands remain intact even as they make their way off campus. It’s so natural that they forget they’re even holding hands, something they don’t even think about.

The fast food restaurant isn’t far. It takes 5 minutes to get there by foot, and they spend the walk in silence. When they arrive, Jongin chooses a table by the window.

Liking someone is weird. Kyungsoo never thought about giving flowers to Jongin, or serenading him, or marrying and growing old together. No. He cared for the mundane things, cared for the inconsequential things; like holding hands, sitting quietly, talking about books and art and maybe even poetry because he knows Jongin likes to analyze them. His heart skips a beat when they’re a little too close; when Jongin’s a little too heartwarming with his eye smiles and white teeth. It’s a little gross and cliché how he wants to hold Jongin’s hand sometimes, or how he sometimes finds himself thinking about Jongin at the most inconvenient times, or how he can listen to him talk for hours without growing bored.

But it’s not all romance and tripping over words, or red-faced embarrassment like the way movies and books portray it as. He was over that weeks ago. His feelings have simmered into simply being fond of Jongin’s existence and wanting him to remain in his life for as long as possible, even if it’s as nothing more than just friends. It’s simmered into wanting something like this: doing something as normal and dull as being close to each other and just talking every day.

They eat their hot dogs. Jongin makes fun of the way Kyungsoo is plain for preferring only ketchup and mustard while Jongin prefers to have just about everything except mustard on his own.

It’s dark out by the time they leave the restaurant; somewhere between 8 and 9 p.m. But Kyungsoo doesn’t care to pay attention to the time. He cares more about the way that they’re once again holding hands. He cares more about the presence of Jongin beside him.

“So, Christmas is coming soon,” Jongin says, nonchalant. The bus stop isn’t far. The benches meant for waiting are only a few feet away. “What are you going to do for Christmas?”

They sit down on the bench and wait; the temperature is cold, and the multicolored lights that line buildings and lampposts are shining brightly. “I don’t know, probably nothing. My mom has to work on Christmas so…” He shivers as a particularly cold gust of wind zips past them.

“What?!” Kyungsoo nods at the exclamation, confirming that yeah, he’ll be spending Christmas alone. He doesn’t mind it, really. He’s done it before, many times. But then Jongin offers for him to spend Christmas with him and Sehun, and who is he to resist such an offer?

And Kyungsoo sometimes wonders what Jongin sees when he looks in his eyes. Like now, eyes on his own, matching, close. They resemble the streetlights and the stars in the way that they are bright. His mind wonders, entertaining the thought. Is it the same thing Kyungsoo sees when he looks at Jongin? Someone with so much beauty, so much heart, and so much depth? Someone special? Jongin’s gaze is soft, too; a little warm. They’re soft in a way that makes Kyungsoo wonder if maybe, just maybe, it means something more. Maybe, just maybe, Jongin sees him as someone more than just a simple friend.

But then sound of brakes interrupts his thoughts, breaking the connection that their eyes held as Jongin stands up to get on the bus.

///

Kyungsoo stands in front of the bright red apartment door; his beanie placed on his head, a scarf wrapped around his neck in an attempt to somewhat block the cold, and his backpack on his back-filled with his gifts and the clothes he plans to wear tomorrow. He knocks twice, and is met with the sound of rustling and muffled voices. He makes out Sehun shouting “Jongin!” and there’s, loud thump.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole!” There’s feet scampering across the floor, like someone is running. Then the door opens, presenting him with an exhausted looking Jongin wearing a smile, his hair a ruffled mess. Kyungsoo eyes him, weirdly.

“Uhm, hey Kyungsoo,” Jongin greets. He smooths down his clothes-a pink sweater and a pair of light-washed jeans-as if he’s clearing dirt off of them. His hair is a light brown, now. Kyungsoo doesn’t know when he dyed it, but the warm glow of their hallway lighting is shining down on Jongin and he looks so… beautiful, really. The color compliments him. Jongin opens the door wider, allowing for Kyungsoo to step in. Almost instantly he’s met with the smell of gingerbread, most likely from a candle that Sehun is burning. “Come in,” he says.

The second he steps in, he sees Sehun standing not far behind Jongin, with a smile. There are multicolored Christmas lights that line the edges of their ceiling, from the hallway to the living room. When he enters the space of their livingroom, there is a small tree in the corner on the table right next to their sliding glass door. The tree has popcorn strings, a few golden lights, and blue ornaments. Festive. Cute. Except the tree is missing a star.

“Uhm…” He turns to look behind him where Sehun and a flustered looking Jongin stand. Sehun smirks, and shoves at Jongin’s back, making him stumble forward. He shoots a glare over his shoulder at him, and Sehun struggles to hold in his laughter. Kyungsoo finds himself, once again, eyeing them weirdly. Their behavior strange. Kyungsoo would question it out loud, but Jongin turns back towards him to continue what he was going to say.

“Yeah, we uh… We have this tradition. Sehun’s parents live in another country, so he doesn’t always get to see them.” Sehun nods in agreement with the statement, much calmer and more composed now. “And I don’t really talk to my parents, anymore. The two of us… I told you that he’s my only real friend, but really, we’re family. He’s like my brother. And so we do this thing every Christmas where, instead of a star, we put up a picture and it’s a picture of the two of us. And this year… this year we wanted to know if…” He struggles with the remaining words, fingers toying with the hem of his sweater, and moving to smooth back his bangs. It only makes his hair look worse, and Kyungsoo guesses that’s why it looks so ruffled and messy. “Do you want to be in the picture?” He finally finishes.

“It was his idea,” Sehun adds. Jongin once again shoots him a glare, but Sehun is grinning triumphantly like he’s proud of himself. Kyungsoo watches, feeling strangely warm. His eyes have softened into an expression of complete admiration. He hasn’t ever felt this feeling before. It’s something he can’t quite explain. He’s never met anyone quite like Jongin before, either. He suddenly has the urge to kiss his cheek, his heart growing fonder and larger. But he doesn’t. He remains composed-is so goddamn good at it-and keeps smiling.

“Of course,” he answers. Jongin’s smile is small but filled with gratefulness and happiness. His eyes are just as soft as they look at each other. Sehun shouts, interrupting the moment and bringing the attention towards him.

“I’m going to get the camera!” He runs off, socked feet pattering against the dark hardwood. Kyungsoo briefly worries that he might slip and break his neck. That is, until he realizes that they’re alone, and there’s a weird tension that’s settled into the air.

Jongin sits down on the couch, Kyungsoo joins him.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he says.

He’s only just gotten here. His bag sits on the floor, now, still packed. He feels welcomed. He feels a sense of belonging. Jongin… he makes him feel like home; this foreign apartment feels like home. It’s only been a few months, yet there is something about Jongin, and the way that he makes him feel welcomed. He doesn’t feel like an outsider, doesn’t feel like he’s invading someone else’s home, doesn’t feel like they are two people that haven’t known each other for long.

“Thank you for coming,” he responds. “Honestly… I was looking forward to it.” He gives an awkward laugh in an attempt to cover how embarrassed those words make him feel. Jongin isn’t like Kyungsoo. He wears his heart on his sleeves; bares his emotions as if there aren’t any consequences from doing so. He’s not naïve, despite his childlike personality. He’s far from naïve. However, Kyungsoo can never admit those words out loud. He can’t face that embarrassment or vulnerability as easily as Jongin can.

But Jongin is rubbing off on him. He finds himself slipping up. He allows for words to slip off his tongue like the smooth slide of ice. “You make me feel like I’m going to die sometimes.”

Jongin quiets. Kyungsoo stares down at his hands as they rest in his lap, folded. He doesn’t want to look up, doesn’t want to see Jongin’s reaction, and he can’t help the way that his heart is pounding at his chest like it wants to flee this embarrassing situation. Smooth. Real smooth.

“What-” Jongin starts, but his sentence is interrupted when Sehun slides in like he’s some kind of pro snowboarder, pulling to a dramatic stop, his arms stretched out and the polaroid camera in hand. His face is schooled in a concentrated expression just to add to the affect. It kills the moment, Kyungsoo’s words fading into the air.

“Camera’s here!” Sehun exclaims as he straightens up. “Sorry it took a while. I couldn’t find it, and I know Jongin hates it when I touch his expensive toys.” He’s grinning, knowingly. Kyungsoo thinks that Sehun knew exactly where the camera was, and he knows damn well that Kyungsoo has practically confessed that Jongin makes him feel warm. And maybe Jongin didn’t understand what he was trying to say, but Sehun sure as hell did.

They form a small group. Kyungsoo stands beside Jongin who wraps an arm around him and pulls him in close to make sure that he fits into the shot. The picture comes out sweet; they’re smiling wide and happy like close friends, and Kyungsoo fits. He fits so well with the two; fits so well in the frame. It’s like he belongs. Like he’s always been in their lives.

Sehun slips the picture onto a small stand that’s meant to fit like a star on the Christmas tree and hands it to Kyungsoo. “Here you go,” he says. “I’m giving you the honor of putting the star on the tree. Usually Jongin and I rock-paper-scissor for it, but it’s your first time here, so go ahead.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t understand the significance of putting a star on the tree. It’s always been something that he viewed as a childish wish. But he understands the significance of them giving him the privilege, the way that they smile fondly and adoringly as he goes towards the tree. It makes him feel included and wanted. And when it’s done, they clap enthusiastically and exaggeratingly, and Jongin rushes to get the presents from his art studio.

There isn’t much said when he’s left alone with Sehun. Sehun goes to turn on the television, and picks up a controller, handing one to Kyungsoo who politely declines. (He’s terrible at video games, really.) But Sehun insists, tells him that it’s FIFA, and Kyungsoo can’t decline playing the only game that he is actually good at.

As they’re sitting, waiting for the game to load, Sehun says something that makes him go wide eyed.

“Jongin told me that you like FIFA,” he says. “I actually hate it, but he went out and bought it the second you said that you were coming over today because he wanted to play it with you. He said that he wanted you to feel included and not left out when we start playing games, and he wanted to make sure that you had fun today. It’s a little gross, really. He never stops talking about you, and it’s only gotten worse since you visited last time. It’s all “Kyungsoo did this” and “Kyungsoo did that” and “lol you should see what Kyungsoo just sent; he’s so weird”.” Kyungsoo stares as Sehun talks, but Sehun doesn’t spare him a glance. He keeps his eyes on the screen of the television as he sets up a game. “It’s kind of cute too, not gonna lie.”

And like some kind of predictable plot trick, Jongin’s the one that interrupts them this time, not even allowing Kyungsoo a word. Except this time, he doesn’t hear what was said. Sehun lights up like the lights on their Christmas tree when he sees the presents.

Kyungsoo learns that they aren’t one to gift much. Apparently last year Jongin had bought Sehun a pack of socks that had little Christmas trees all over it. Sehun had gotten Jongin a scarf and a value pack of deodorant. “Four in one; perfect, isn’t it?” Sehun joked, making Kyungsoo laugh as he listened to the stories.

Jongin admits that Christmas is actually his favorite holiday because he likes to give, and he likes the sales and the movies. Sehun doesn’t care much for Christmas, but he likes getting gifts, the decorations, and the fact that Jongin lets him light his gingerbread candles-“My favorite scent.”

They exchange gifts. This year Sehun gifts Jongin a set of watercolor paint to try out, and Sehun gets a set of candles that’s supposed to smell like the beach. Kyungsoo hates the smell. He scrunches his nose up in distaste when Sehun shoves the ocean blue candle into his face, and asks him to “smell the heavenly scent.” Jongin laughs, falling over and clutching his side when Sehun almost knocks the candles out of his face. Sehun scowls in displeasure at almost having his gift shattered into pieces of glass and wax.

The mood begins to tone down when Kyungsoo pulls out his gift. The two go wide-eyed, and their eyes light up. Sehun grabs at the neatly wrapped gift, and tears open the paper while Jongin holds his gift in hand, giving Kyungsoo a look of gratitude and tenderness. Kyungsoo loves it, revels in it. He loves the look of happiness when Sehun unwraps his gift, and sees the video games Kyungsoo had bought. Jongin is just as happy when he finds a set of paintbrushes that Kyungsoo specifically remembers Jongin whining about wanting some time ago (when he thought that Kyungsoo wasn’t listening. When he thought that Kyungsoo didn’t care to hear his ramblings).

They thank him. Sehun pulls him into a suffocating hug. He smells like fruit and tobacco-an odd mix-and Jongin pulls him into a hug right after. Kyungsoo’s never felt a full hug from Jongin before. He doesn’t smell like the passion fruit shampoo that Kyungsoo has grown to love. Instead, he smells of peppermint and the chocolate candy that he had been snacking on. His hug is tight. It’s not as suffocating as Sehun’s, but it emits an emotion of gratitude and care and something else that he can’t quite name.
Jongin is gentle. His hug makes him feel as if he could get used to being wrapped in his arms; makes him wonder if Jongin would fit as easily into his own arms if he were to spoon him-like some kind of puzzle piece.

When he’s let go of, the warmth of the heater hits, and yet he feels oddly cold.

Jongin and Sehun give him the gift they had bought, both admitting to have pitched in to buy it together. He opens it to see that it’s a set of books from his favorite author. They’re signed. Kyungsoo is suddenly hit with a wave of emotions. He wants to ask how they bought it, where they found it, when they even got it, but words fail to pass his lips. And he knows for a fact that it was Jongin’s idea. He knows that only Jongin knows who his favorite is. Only he would remember.

Kyungsoo goes to pull Jongin into a hug, and he was right: Jongin does fit perfectly into his arms.

///

January

It’s snowing. White flurries rain down from the sky, the atmosphere colored cool for the winter. White covers the ground like a warm blanket, the roads coated in salt for drivers, ice crystals hanging from cars and houses.

Kyungsoo shivers as he walks towards the station, hugging himself. His breath comes as a fog when he breathes, cheeks and nose colored pink from the cold, and he hates it. It’s in these moments that he thinks about Jongin, knows he gets cold even when it’s 40 degrees out.

Jongin is there at the subway station when he arrives, looking just as red as he is. He’s bundled up in a thick jacket, mittens, and a scarf that covers his mouth. He doesn’t have to see to know that Jongin is smiling when he catches sight of him.

Jongin waves, shivers, and puts his hands into his pocket as Kyungsoo approaches. “Cold?” He asks, despite not needing to. Jongin nods anyways. He’s too cold to give a remark and, it’s a little cheesy-but Kyungsoo is kind, thoughtful, a worrier, so he can’t help it-he gestures towards the station for them to enter. Down the stairs and into the smell of food, the dim halogen lights, and the busy movement of people around them. He pulls out a thermos from his backpack and hands it to Jongin, a look of sincerity and tenderness reflected in his pupils as he speaks. “It’s hot chocolate. I made it this morning for you to drink, because I know you get cold, and I didn’t have enough to buy any hot chocolate, so this was the next best thing.”

Jongin stares at the thermos in his hand for so long that Kyungsoo starts to worry something is wrong. But whatever trance Jongin is in, he snaps out of, and takes the thermos with a smile-which Kyungsoo can assume from the crinkle of his eyes and the slight shine to them. “Thank you,” Jongin says. It comes out muffled by his scarf. Kyungsoo doesn’t admit that he’s dying from the weather and that he’d kill for something warm to drink, but he only had enough to make one. He doesn’t admit that he sacrificed his comfort for Jongin.

///

“No way!” Jongin shouts. Kyungsoo shushes him, and glances around at the students studying at the library. Kyungsoo had come here before his creative writing class to do homework. Somehow he had run into Jongin, but the ‘how’ isn’t important. It’s the now, where Jongin is looking at him in awe, and Kyungsoo has given up on finishing his work. “Your birthday is on January 12th?” Kyungsoo nods, not understanding what the big deal is. “Mine is on the 14th!”, he whispers.

“It’s like fate,” Kyungsoo says without thinking. He’s too busy putting away his notes in preparation for his next class that’s going to start in 15 minutes. “Like fate wanted us to meet and be together.” When he looks up, Jongin isn’t grinning the way he usually does. His smile is somewhat warmer.

“I guess so,” Jongin says, voice quiet as if he is muttering to himself rather than talking to Kyungsoo. And he should really be embarrassed, too. But he can’t bring himself to be, and instead, basks in the adorable way Jongin looks down at the table, as though the patterns and swirls of the wood are more interesting.

“I have to go soon.” Jongin finally looks up at him again, the momentary bashful side gone and replaced with excitement and hurry.

“We should do something, together,” he says. Kyungsoo nods, leaning down to zip his bag. “For our birthday.” He nods again, standing up and picking his bag up by the strap. “Text me, okay?” Kyungsoo’s lips curl up, and he meets Jongin’s warm eyes.

“Of course,” he says, because of course he will. And Jongin relaxes into his seat as Kyungsoo swings his backpack onto his back, and exits the building.

///

“Do you think we’ll be any wiser?” Jongin wonders. He’s holding a red solo cup in his hand, fruit punch filled to the brim because neither one of them care for alcohol-despite the fact that Kyungsoo’s mom had shoved two beers into his hands earlier, before Jongin’s arrival, and winked. “I won’t tell anyone,” she had said. “I know how adolescents are.”

“I doubt it,” Kyungsoo answer as he stares into the red liquid that sits inside his own solo cup. They had decided to celebrate their birthday together. It isn’t a party so-to-speak. Rather, it’s something small and intimate. Kyungsoo’s mom went out to buy cake, moments before Jongin’s arrival. She didn’t even get to meet him. Sehun is here, lying on the floor of Kyungsoo’s living room with his eyes narrowed in concentration as he plays some crossword puzzle.

Kyungsoo’s apartment isn’t all that big. With four people in the room, it feels suffocating. (Baekhyun’s also there. He’s sitting on Sehun’s back like he’s some kind of chair. They all had to suffer from Sehun’s whining when Baekhyun sat on him, until finally he gave in. Baekhyun wasn’t moving and Sehun didn’t feel like moving either.) Yet it also feels nice. It’s nothing but close friends, the one person Kyungsoo wants to be with, and a warm tingly feeling that’s comforting and kind. A feeling like the one he had gotten when he was spending Christmas with Sehun and Jongin.

Baekhyun glances up from his phone and at the two of them. “People don’t grow wiser with age, they grow dumber and more hostile.” Sehun rolls his eyes and an argument breaks out about aging and wising, and somehow textbook terms are thrown in there. But the bickering is blocked out when Jongin speaks quietly to Kyungsoo. And Kyungsoo’s smiling. He’s smiling because Jongin’s voice is low, deep like his own. Every word is so enticing, immersing him, and he can’t help but listen. Can’t help but to give all of his attention.

“I like it… The idea of us spending more birthdays together like this.” Okay, that hits Kyungsoo’s heart in a way that makes it stutter and plummet to his stomach where butterflies can swarm, and now there’s a storm. Fuck.

But just then, the front door opens and slams closed, and Mrs. Do shouts her arrival. “I’m home! I have cake!” Sehun scrambles up from off the floor, Baekhyun falling over from the impact-noodle boy isn’t a noodle after all-and his cousin follows after him, taking their noise to the kitchen. Mrs. Do peers her head around the corner from the kitchen, smiling wide.

“Jongin,” she says. Jongin stands up, growing shy. He waves and gives an awkward “hi” in response.

Mrs. Do comes around the corner to properly greet him, and she’s a kind soul, really. She’s gentle, always has been. She’s young, too. She had Kyungsoo when she was just 16 and unknowing of the world around her.

Kyungsoo suppresses a giggle when her hands meet Jongin’s cheeks, his lips puckering as she squishes. She starts gushing about how good looking and cute he is. “You are adorable, really. I can’t believe that we’ve never met before!” Jongin’s eyes glance over at Kyungsoo with a plea for help. Kyungsoo shrugs it off with an evil grin, and watches in amusement as Jongin struggles to keep up with the compliments.

Right when he decides that he should really help him out, Mrs. Do finally releases Jongin and drags him to the kitchen where Sehun and Baekhyun are shoving their faces with cake. They sit at the table, Kyungsoo gets plates for the three of them, his mother starts talking about something that makes Baekhyun and Sehun laugh in unison. Jongin starts talking too, and Mrs. Do coos at his voice.

Kyungsoo sets the plates down, and sits next to Jongin. He doesn’t know what it is that makes him do it. Jongin looks nervous and he feels slightly bad for not helping out with the earlier situation. But his mother loves to talk, loves to praise; and Jongin’s body is so stiff and uneasy. So, he places a hand on his knee, an innocent gesture. Jongin glances over at him, making Kyungsoo worry. A question whether or not he should remove his hand comes to mind, but then Jongin relaxes and starts talking again.

“How do you like the cake?” She asks him. Baekhyun jumps to respond but she shushes him. “Jongin; I was asking Jongin.”

“I like it.” He gives a polite smile, she smiles back.

Kyungsoo spends more time watching the way Jongin grows comfortable than he does on eating. He can see the way that Jongin adjusts to his mother, can see the way that he is shedding that sheepish side. He doesn’t pay much attention to the conversation at hand. He only answers when he’s spoken to, and sometimes he snaps out of his daze when his name is mentioned.

Sometime during the conversation, Mrs. Do had turned her attention towards Sehun to pester him. The hand on Jongin’s knee remains, yet neither of them notice as they speak. Jongin talks to him about the cake, the homework he hasn’t finished, the movie he wants to watch. Kyungsoo listens. He responds occasionally, slowly falling into the world where it is just the two of them. They’re interrupted when Mrs. Do speaks up.

“You two are so cute together,” she says. They both turn away from each other to take in the world around them. Sehun is giving Jongin this look that Kyungsoo can’t decipher, and Baekhyun is watching them as though there is something to be seen in their every movement; analyzing them. “My Kyungsoo is so lucky to have you.”

Jongin chokes as a faint blush forms, Kyungsoo looks at his mother with wide, alarmed eyes. They turn towards each other, a silent question of what they should say, neither one of them moving. They don’t know how to tell her that they’re not dating, but there is also something more to it. There’s something in the way that they hesitate with matching colored cheeks.

There’s something in the way that they look at each other, the way that they care for each other, the way that Jongin holds onto Kyungsoo and nuzzles at his neck. There’s something in the way that Kyungsoo lets Jongin play with his fingers, the way that they remind each other of how they could spend every moment together. They’re not dating. They’re not together. But why does it feel more like they’ve been caught instead of feeling like a simple misunderstanding?

Then Jongin speaks, breaking eye contact to look at Mrs. Do. Sehun is still staring, meanwhile, Baekhyun has moved on to taking up empty dishes and setting them in the sink. “Actually, we’re lucky to have each other. He’s good to me… We’re good for each other.”

Silence ensues. It’s a split second. Baekhyun almost drops one of the dishes when he starts snickering. Sehun leans back in his chair with a look of satisfaction. Mrs. Do’s smile widens. But Kyungsoo feels like he’s in a different reality, because that is definitely not what he was expecting. Fingers trace the back of his hand beneath the table, and Kyungsoo looks down to see that it’s Jongin. Kyungsoo turns his hand over so that Jongin can interlock their fingers, and they fit… They fit perfectly. They always do.

The grip is tight, a sign that Jongin is feeling nervous and a little sheepish. But the others have moved on to a different topic while Kyungsoo struggles to wrap his brain around what just happen. It’s when everyone else has moved to the living room, and the sound of a television begins to filter in through the thin walls, that Kyungsoo finally speaks.

“Uhm…” Jongin looks at him but he can’t bring himself to do the same. “Sorry about what she said.” Jongin tightens his grip then loosens it, a signal for Kyungsoo to look up at him. He’s pouting cutely. He isn’t blushing anymore; he’s far from it. In fact, he looks… He looks happy.

“Why are you sorry? You don’t want to be my boyfriend?” And it is a sight to see. There’s a hint of an exaggerated whine, Jongin’s lips pocking out like a child-cute and endearing in every way. Kyungsoo chuckles. Within that moment, whatever doubts he may have had begin to disappear. He flicks a finger at Jongin’s bottom lip pout, and smiles at the way that it jiggles and makes a weird sound. Jongin can’t hold back the laugh that spills after that.

“Are you telling me that you like me?” Kyungsoo teases. He can’t force away the smile. Not when everything is open now, and the fear of spoiling what has begun to develop is no longer a concern.

“Wasn’t it obvious?” He responds. Kyungsoo likes the way that Jongin looks as though he’s glowing; like this is something he’s been wanting for a while.

“Extremely.” Kyungsoo doesn’t hesitate with what he says next. The words have always been there, waiting to be said-begging to be said. They slip out so easily, so gracefully. “I like you, too.” There isn’t a trace of regret when he’s met with the warmth in Jongin’s expression; the way that his eyes soften. It melts at Kyungsoo’s heart. He likes the way it makes him feel. Loves it.

“It’s about time!” someone shouts. Kyungsoo quickly realizes it’s Sehun, and he can’t help but to agree. Then there’s Baekhyun who shouts out that he’s been shipping them from the start, and he’s known all along. Jongin starts laughing; that real kind that has him leaning onto Kyungsoo as he shakes with laughter and joy, his little eye smile present and beautiful.

And Kyungsoo can’t help but to think that yeah, he likes Jongin. He likes Jongin a lot. It doesn’t have to be said for him to know that Jongin feels the same.