Reckless #118: Somedays I'm Made Of Metal [Part 1/2]
Title: Somedays I'm Made of Metal
Other Pairing: Kyungsoo/Various, Jongin/Chanyeol, Jongin/Taemin
Rating: R
Word Count: 17,117
Summary: Kyungsoo builds walls. Jongin is the wallflower that blooms--- roots and vines twisting into cracks, tearing down foundations with smiles and constant company.
Author's Note: This is more angsty than I intended, whoops. Thanks to my pals for cheering me on, and thanks to the mods for being patient with me!
There’s a certain kind of satisfaction that comes with a successful conquest. It’s a thrill like no other, addicting and impulsive. Kyungsoo is a collector of sorts; his prizes and trophies comprise of hearts and virginities, the notches in his proverbial bedpost whittle wood into sawdust.
He’s not driven by narcissism, just pride. Kyungsoo has a reputation and it excites him. He loves the way people regard him with fear and curiosity, finds the thrill of the chase to be exhilarating. People know who he is, what he does. They know he’ll take them, use them, break their hearts. But people fall to their knees and fall for him anyway. Kyungsoo is a powerful force, leaving damaged souls lying in wake.
Friends, to Kyungsoo, are just those who keep up with him as he tries to leave. He surrounds himself with people whose hearts are too strong to shatter, like-minded companions who understand the meaning of a fling.
Kyungsoo is not a good person, but he’s trying. He sticks to his reputation while changing the details--- sometimes he stays overnight before leaving amicably in the morning. Sometimes he rejects a willing partner in order to save their heart. But sometimes it’s too much, being a good person, so he falls back into old habits; causing sorrow and pain as he sneaks off into the the night.
Those he’s scorned fight back with harsh words, insults. They call him cruel, heartless, tell him he’s going to die alone. Kyungsoo crafts his persona around the slander of others. It’s not hurtful if it’s the truth, they’re not insults if they’re the bricks and mortar of Kyungsoo’s carefully constructed walls.
Inside his stronghold, his self-hatred festers.
Kyungsoo is alone, and so very, very lonely.
------
Jongin. Quiet, beautiful Jongin. A friend of a friend, the roommate of someone Kyungsoo tried to run away from yet couldn’t.
“Are you going to that thing tonight?” Jongin breaks the silence. It’s a Friday, they share a table in the library. Shy Jongin sits with the only occupied table with a comforting presence. They’re not friends, but there’s enough familiarity for Jongin to be comfortable.
“Of course,” Kyungsoo replies. He keeps his tone soft, not to follow library rules but to keep Jongin comfortable. He’s flighty, and Kyungsoo doesn’t want to scare him off. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
There were plans for a small get together, plans that morphed into more invites than a tiny apartment has the space for. Kyungsoo’s invite comes from the host himself, so when the crowd swells and it’s time to kick people out, Kyungsoo won’t be the one to leave.
He hunts in crowds, seduces people away from their friends. Clubs, parties, classrooms, he doesn’t have a preferred space. Though it’s far easier to divide and conquer when his target leaves the house with the idea of hooking up lying somewhere within their heads.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Jongin shakes his head, laughing softly to himself. He has a nice laugh, Kyungsoo notes. He’s never noticed Jongin’s tittling giggles before, purely because laughter is not the kind of sound he usually pulls from people’s lips. “You know Chanyeol, of course you’re going.”
“Everyone knows Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo reminds him. Chanyeol is similar to Kyungsoo in a lot of ways. He, too, has his conquests, though Chanyeol draws people in for friendship and beds those few who want to take it further. So similar, yet they operate with different motives.
“You know him a little better than others,” Jongin’s eyes never leave his textbook, something bulky and scientific. He smiles to himself, softly. It’s as if he’s made a joke at Kyungsoo’s expense. “Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“I didn’t take you for a gossip,” Kyungsoo replies. He’s aware of his reputation, though he never really expected it to reach Jongin.
“Sehun told me.”
The roommate, the friend of a friend. Sehun’s a one night stand that Kyungsoo’s never been able to get rid of.
“Sounds about right,” Kyungsoo mutters. Sehun lives on a diet of Red Bull and drama; some he causes, some he witnesses. It’s not out of character for Sehun to discuss Kyungsoo’s modus operandi, even with those unwilling to listen.
“He tells me everything,” Jongin’s nose scrunches in mild disgust. “I think I know you as well as he does.”
“Is that so?” Kyungsoo hums. He doesn’t correct Jongin. It’s too much of a bother to explain that Sehun doesn’t know him as well as he thinks, that no one knows Kyungsoo at all. It’s too much to admit to anyone, most of all quiet, prudish Jongin who disapproves of sex without feelings.
“Are we friends?” Jongin asks quietly.
“I don’t really have friends,” Kyungsoo mutters, “but if that’s what you think, then, sure.”
“But what do you think?”
It’s a question he’s never been asked before.
“I sleep with my friends,” Kyungsoo replies, “you don’t quite meet the criteria.”
Jongin laughs outright. “And I never will,” he replies.
“You hurt me,” Kyungsoo can tell that Jongin is joking around, tone devoid of anything serious. He places a hand over his heart as if wounded.
No one denies Kyungsoo, no one hurts Kyungsoo. It’s all a big joke, friendly banter. Kyungsoo could have Jongin, too, if he wanted him.
“I think we’re friends,” Jongin says, “or as close to friendship as you’re capable of.”
“You spend too much time with Sehun,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. He’s sure that Sehun’s used the same line on him a few times before.
“You spend too much time alone,” Jongin retorts. That’s a new one, not some regurgitated line from a conversation with Sehun. “You must be lonely.”
“I don’t need anyone else,” Kyungsoo replies curtly.
Their gazes meet, Jongin’s concerned and Kyungsoo’s adamant. Silently, he drops his gaze back to his books.
The conversation ends.
------
Body heat mingles, the combined warmth of the crowd heats the air and condensation forms on cups and windows. Crude messages and handprints are smeared onto glass, the messages slowly fogging up and disappearing, becoming a blank canvas once more.
Kyungsoo hates people yet he thrives amongst them. He weaves amongst the crowd in search of heated gazes and smirks with hidden promise, bitten lips and the potential to add more handprints against the glass. He has an abundance of choice, as he does every night, but he’s off his game; the earlier conversation with Jongin plaguing Kyungsoo more than he’s willing to admit.
Loneliness is difficult to detect in others, most people too obsessed with themselves to look past walls and fronted emotions. Jongin’s seen right through him and it’s terrifying-- someone with such limited social skills shouldn’t be able to notice such visible cracks in Kyungsoo’s facade.
Surprisingly, Jongin graces Chanyeol’s little get together with his presence. Kyungsoo isn’t the only one to notice; sleepy eyes, soft pout, fluffy hair. Jongin has that kind of boyish charm that turns heads and makes the more predatory of his admirers circle like vultures. He clings to Sehun like a lifeline, switching to Chanyeol as his housemate sneaks off with some pretty little thing. When Chanyeol’s usually contagious extroversion wears him out, Jongin chooses to decorate the paint as a wallflower, people watching and sipping quietly at the drink in his hands.
Their eyes meet, they fall into cliche and Kyungsoo sees Jongin, truly, for the first time. Confident posture yet his head is bowed, Kyungsoo can see faint acne scarring along his cheeks and jawline. A slight tremor to his hand shows his nerves, though he keeps himself composed. It seems as if Jongin wears a mask just like Kyungsoo’s. The weakness in him is beautiful, and Kyungsoo stares at him a moment too long.
With curled fingers he beckons Kyungsoo, his hands no longer shake at the prospect of company, purely because Kyungsoo’s is so familiar. Talking to Jongin away from the crowd is one way to ensure he doesn’t pick up, but Kyungsoo’s legs move without permission, weaving his way through before he registers the motion.
“Hey,” Jongin says, louder than his normal tone. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Fancy someone under forty using that line,” Kyungsoo replies. He’s turning on the charm, alcohol loosening his lips and morals. He makes Jongin laugh--- warm, welcoming and enough to break the ice. They don’t talk outside the library. While the company is familiar the setting is not, and Kyungsoo’s never had to converse civilly with a friend-of-a-friend while drunk before.
“You’re funnier than I thought you’d be,” Jongin smiles and the broken ice melts.
“I’m drunker than you assume I am,” Kyungsoo retorts. He lifts a heavy arm over Jongin’s shoulder, awkwardly and not without spilling his drink.
“Is this how the whole conversation is going to go?” He asks, wrapping an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist. It could be a measure of support, or a friendly greeting. Drunk Kyungsoo registers any touch as an act of flirting, though he’s been known to be wrong in the past.
“Depends on how good you are with conversation,” Kyungsoo replies. Jongin smells like whiskey and Coke, though it’s probably because Kyungsoo’s cup keeps overflowing onto his shirt. If it were anyone else, Kyungsoo would offer to clean the mess with his tongue, seduce him away from the crowd and see if Jongin’s lips taste as good as they look.
But it’s Jongin. Quiet, beautiful Jongin, and he’s somewhat off limits.
“What brings you here tonight?” Jongin asks him, like the answer isn’t already clear.
“I’m looking for love,” Kyungsoo laughs at his own joke. Jongin laughs too, or are the jerky movements of his chest just attempts to move away from Kyungsoo’s drink?
“In a place like this?” Jongin understands his sense of humour, it’s nice to know that Drunk Kyungsoo still has it, so to speak.
“You know what?” Another look through the crowd, faceless notches on Kyungsoo’s bedpost. “You can’t find love here,” he sighs dramatically, “you can find a good blowjob, though, so I’ll settle for that.”
“Are you sure?” Jongin unwraps Kyungsoo’s arm from his shoulders. “I’m sure there’s some nice people here.”
“I don’t care if they’re nice, I care if they can suck a dick.”
“And what if you can’t find your Blowjob Prince for the evening?” Jongin has the audacity to laugh at his own joke. It’s endearing, in a way.
“Then I’ll find Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo shrugs. His drink spills onto his sleeve. “He’s always up for it.”
“The way you treat people is disgusting,” Jongin says, stepping out from Kyungsoo’s reach. His brows pull into a frown, lines on his forehead that Kyungsoo wants to smooth away.
Offering nothing more, he turns on his heel. Kyungsoo loses sight of him in the crowd, slumping back against the wall, defeated. His world spins and lurches, closed eyes adding to the vertigo, the burning of the alcohol as it courses through his veins.
“I hear you’re looking for me,” the voice can only belong to Baekhyun, tone so teasing and filled with filthy promises. “Jongin tells me you’re in need of my services.”
“They would be greatly appreciated,” Kyungsoo speaks far more eloquently than he feels. A sudden moment of clarity, one where his words don’t slur and his tongue and lips obediently form his chosen sentences.
A kiss as filthy as Baekhyun’s promises, hands on his waist, already untucking his shirt. Kyungsoo keeps his eyes open, a way to watch as Baekhyun comes undone, a precaution against voyeuristic intruders who’d like nothing more than to watch.
They’re largely ignored, one or two lingering gazes but nothing else, intrigued passers by moving along, the alcohol shortening their attention spans. For the second time of the evening, Kyungsoo meets Jongin’s eyes, just briefly. He’s frowning, in consideration rather than in disapproval or disgust.
Kyungsoo closes his eyes, puts on a show, lets Jongin see just how the master works.
When he chances a second glance, Jongin is gone.
-------
Hungover Kyungsoo is a lazy Kyungsoo. His stomach churns, body resorting to nausea rather than the classic headache. He can’t stomach food all that well, so water becomes his only form of sustenance, such as it is. The small ginger pills he keeps on his bedside table help to take the edge off. Kyungsoo’s no longer throwing up stomach acid and water-- he’s reached the point where the hangover is manageable, and for that he’s thankful.
The door to Sehun and Jongin’s apartment would mock him if it could speak, stare disapprovingly if it had eyes. It beckons him to knock, dares him to walk away. There is no reason for him to stand in front of it, yet Kyungsoo finds himself staring at the brass numbers, wondering why he’s there.
“You’ve been outside for a while,” the door swings outwards, not inwards as most doors tend to; it shocks Kyungsoo as he hurriedly steps backwards, tripping over his own feet in the process.
Jongin appears in the gap between door and frame, hair messy and eyes still swollen from sleep. It’s not early, not by a long shot. The time is somewhere within the early afternoon, not that Kyungsoo’s been bothered to check. He’s a late sleeper, Kyungsoo guesses, and it’s something both endearing and irritating. It’s sweet, almost childish, the way that Jongin wakes for the mid afternoon, but he wastes the day away in bed, unproductive and useless.
“Sehun around?”
“Nah,” Jongin shakes his head, the mess of his hair bouncing with the movement. “He hooked up last night.”
The pretty little thing he snuck off with. Must have been more than pretty if Sehun’s still at his house the morning after.
“Oh,” Kyungsoo is at a loss for words. He resists the urge to fiddle with the seams of his clothes, his hair, anything. “I guess I’ll head home, then.”
The atmosphere is thick and awkward, words unsaid hanging in the air between them. He and Jongin parted on such awful terms the night prior, though he did send an eager Baekhyun in Kyungsoo’s direction, and he’s rather thankful for it. Jongin’s stint as a temporary wingman may have been an attempt at an apology, something to soothe the burn left by harsh words.
“You can stay,” Jongin shrugs, “I don’t think either of us have anything better to do,” he pauses, regarding Kyungsoo curiously. “Unless you’ve still got Baekhyun around?”
“He’s gone,” Kyungsoo replies. Baekhyun’s warmed his bed on more than one occasion, he knows Kyungsoo’s rules and follows them dutifully. He’s never woken up with another body in his bed, and he doubts that’ll change anytime soon.
“I’m gonna watch shitty movies and wait out my hangover,” Jongin’s eyes are downcast, doubtful, “you’re more than welcome to join me.”
Kyungsoo isn’t into the whole Net and Chill thing, at least, not without the promise of sex halfway through the film. He finds himself agreeing, all dressed up and with nowhere to go, he supposes he could use a little company. Originally, his intention was to grill Sehun on his hook up, see if Pretty Little Thing is worth chasing at another party where Sehun hasn’t distracted him. It’ll have to wait.
Stomach churning, Kyungsoo follows Jongin to the couch, settling in against the pillows and the all-purpose throw rug they keep draped across the back of it. A familiar space, his usual spot- though not with his usual company. Jongin isn’t the type of person he does, or should, spend time with. They’re too different, and it’s any wonder how they get along at all.
Jongin’s film of choice is loud, filled with explosions and superheroes that Kyungsoo can’t name. It’s nice, though he doesn’t dare admit it out loud.
The nausea still churns in his stomach.
------
Kyungsoo seeks Jongin out, and more than once; they eat dinner after studying, something fast and greasy, usually deep fried. They walk the calories off, wandering through streets and peering into the still lit windows of long closed stores. Sometimes Kyungsoo follows Jongin back to his apartment, sitting in his usual spot beside Sehun as the three of them talk or watch another bad film or television show of Jongin’s suggestion.
There’s a simple formula to Kyungsoo’s friends; they sleep together, they stay. It doesn’t happen again. Kyungsoo’s not exactly averse to repeat performances, though he’s aware that sex can lead to feelings and all sorts of things that ruin friendships. Being able to count his friends on one hand, he doesn’t exactly want to lose any of them, so he sleeps with strangers instead.
“So,” Sehun begins, walking into the lounge armed with snacks. He drops them unceremoniously onto the table, a single bag of chips missing its mark and falling to the floor. No one moves to pick it up. “You never told me about Baekhyun’s little biting kink,” he pulls at the collar of his shirt, revealing a bruised section of skin and an imprint of teeth. “It’s taking forever to heal.”
“He doesn’t do that to me,” Kyungsoo retorts, “his mouth is usually occupied when I’m with him.”
“Does Baekhyun know how you talk about him?” Jongin enquires, judgmental although a little curious. “I can’t say I’d be happy if it was me.”
“He’s as bad as we are,” Sehun replies.
“Worse,” Kyungsoo adds, “his snapchat story last weekend was a video of my come dripping from his asshole.”
Jongin’s nose wrinkles in disgust.
“I remember that,” Sehun laughs, “Kyungsoo made me a creampie, who wants to eat it?”
Kyungsoo smirks at the memory. He doesn’t have Snapchat, so he wasn’t aware of the caption. But he was definitely there for the filming; in fact, he held the camera, using Baekhyun’s phone to zoom in on the mess he made.
“Point taken,” Jongin mutters.
Their conversations usually go like this: Kyungsoo and Sehun talk as they usually do, swapping kiss-and-tell stories and comparing conquests. Jongin asks questions and is uncomfortable with their answers, shying away as the conversations turn graphic.
It’s a wonder why they’re even friends. Jongin doesn’t fit the criteria; he hasn’t stuck around, he’s always been there, lurking on the fringe and always in Kyungsoo’s peripheral vision. They haven’t fallen into bed and then into friendship, it’s more of a slow descent that Kyungsoo just isn’t used to. Jongin’s presence in his life catches him off guard.
“Why don’t you hook up?” Sehun asks. It’s a wonder that the topic hasn’t been broached before, what with Sehun’s more promiscuous tendencies and his close friendship with Jongin.
“I’m more of a sex with feelings kinda guy,” Jongin shrugs, “I like the emotional connection.”
“So you’re not a virgin?” Kyungsoo’s long had a theory, one which Jongin disproves with an offhanded comment. It’s far more jarring than it should be.
“Does it matter?” Jongin raises an eyebrow in challenge.
It doesn’t, Kyungsoo supposes. He likes to collect virginities, he holds them close to his heart. Being the first memory of sex, the one who got away, it fills him with the sort of pride that’s hard to replicate. It’s likely that he cares more about it than his partners-- why else would people come to him for their first time, other than for the sake of getting it over with? But it’s something he cherishes, his tally of achievements, the supposedly memorable first times he taints by leaving before the sun rises.
“We should find you a boyfriend,” Kyungsoo says. Jongin is too uptight, stressed out. Sex is the best cure for everything, and Kyungsoo should know. He’s been using it as a coping mechanism for years.
“I’m not looking for one,” Jongin’s reply hints at annoyance, “thanks, though.”
“I could show you around, find you a man,” Kyungsoo pushes, “I know how to make people fall in love with me, and I can teach you the tricks.”
“You could be Kyungsoo’s disciple,” Sehun adds, snickering, “a Hoe in Training.”
“I don’t want a boyfriend and I don’t need help,” Jongin grates out, “but if it means we get to hang out more, then sure, why not.”
“Aww,” Sehun coos, “Jongin’s got a crush,”
“Jongin needs more friends,” he mutters, “and Kyungsoo’s popular enough that I might find one.”
“I don’t have friends,” Kyungsoo reminds him, “I have ex-hookups that stick around.”
“What does that make me?” Jongin asks. He peers over the cushion, using the soft square as a makeshift wall, a shield. Something to protect him from Kyungsoo’s answer.
Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to respond, so he remains silent.
Sehun clears his throat, pressing play on the movie and allowing the sounds of the opening titles to drown out the awkwardness.
------
There’s a little coffee shop that Sehun likes to frequent. Pretty Little Thing is one of their many baristas. He ignores Sehun as they walk through the door, keeping himself preoccupied with his work. Sehun hasn’t said anything to Kyungsoo, but it’s clear that Sehun’s more than a little hung up on the guy. The sex must have been incredible if Sehun’s that desperate for more.
“You’re adopting Jongin,” Sehun punctuates his sentence with a raised eyebrow and a casual sip from his frappe. His eyes flicker slightly to the left, where Pretty Little Thing continues to ignore him. “I don’t know what your plan is, but I don’t think I like it.”
It’s a vast change from their earlier conversation. Sehun cares for Jongin, more than he’d like to admit. His concerns are something he can’t bring up in front of his roommate, probably because Jongin likes Kyungsoo a little more than he should. That’s not to say that Jongin is in love with him, but that he’s far too naive to realise that Kyungsoo is poison.
“He’s uptight,” Kyungsoo says. Pretty Little Thing risks a glance at their table and catches Sehun’s eye. He looks away, flushed and scowling. Kyungsoo can’t quite catch the name etched into his tag. “He needs to loosen up a little.”
“That doesn’t appease me in the slightest,” Sehun’s eyebrow remains raised. He’s uncharacteristically cool and calm, most likely an act for the barista whose eyes keep lingering on their table. “He’s not that prudish and he’s definitely not a social outcast,” another sip from his frappe, another missed moment of eye contact with Pretty Little Thing. “What’s your deal?”
“He needs to lighten up, I told you,” Kyungsoo says, unable to offer any other explanation. There’s a pattern on the foam of his latte, three little hearts joined together by a line of textured milk. He has a feeling they were meant for Sehun.
“I’ve been living with him for six months,” Sehun uses his cup to point at Kyungsoo, “and he’s just a normal guy. There’s nothing to fix.”
“I want to help him manage his stress levels,” Kyungsoo pushes, “and we both know that sex is the answer to that.”
“I de-stress with chamomile tea and a bubble bath,” Sehun’s not even looking at him by this point, too distracted by the barista as he scurries around behind the counter, pointedly ignoring Sehun’s gaze with a flush to his cheeks. “You de-stress with heartbreak.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyungsoo is instantly on the defensive, somehow he thinks Sehun is trying to insult him.
“Jongin isn’t you,” Sehun explains, “and no amount of prolonged contact is going to change that.”
“I’m not trying to turn him into me,” Kyungsoo sighs, “I’m just-”
“You’re going to fuck Jongin, and it’s going to end in a broken heart,” Sehun interrupts, “though I’m not sure whose heart is going to break first.”
“I don’t have a heart to break,” Kyungsoo says. Sehun’s acting strange, introspective. He’s a little overprotective of Jongin and it shows; but Kyungsoo has never known Sehun to speak of love and heartbreak without mocking it. “And I’m not going to sleep with Jongin.”
“You say that now,” Sehun hums, sipping at his frappe. His tone suggests that the conversation has ended, though Kyungsoo still has more questions, more mysteries to solve.
------
Kyungsoo is equal parts minor celebrity and urban legend. He’s got more rumours about him than he has friends to deflect them, some of them based on fact and others completely exaggerated. It’s at the point where Kyungsoo’s reputation is more recognisable than his face, and those he associates with end up with similar stories of their own. For people like Sehun, it’s a blessing. He can hook up, sleep around, do what he wants without consequence. No one expects him to stick around, because his own mythos stems from the stories surrounding Kyungsoo.
He’s aware of his own reputation, and the adverse effect it will have on Jongin’s. People are always watching, enthralled and curious. It’s not often that Kyungsoo’s seen with someone new outside of the bedroom. People will talk, as people always do and though it should annoy or concern him, it doesn’t. Kyungsoo absolutely thrives off the attention.
Jongin doesn’t. He stays on the sidelines, a beautiful wallflower. Being around Kyungsoo will destroy him as it destroyed Sehun--- he knows that Pretty Little Thing means more to Sehun than just a one night stand. Their friendship is probably what’s causing the friction, but Kyungsoo is selfish. If Pretty Little Thing can’t handle Kyungsoo, then his relationship with Sehun is going to crash and burn.
Kyungsoo knows what people say about the two of them, their whispers reaching his ears through Baekhyun and his gossip. It sits on the widely exaggerated side of the rumour scale, changing people’s perceptions and damaging potential relationships. People believe what they hear without question, and so Sehun, to those in the know, is apparently in love with Kyungsoo, following him around for a second chance between the sheets.
It’s ridiculous, completely untrue. But Kyungsoo is cautious, and keeps his distance. He’s never initiated a second time together, nor has Sehun requested it. It can’t be true, it just can’t.
Kyungsoo is affected by rumours, more than people know.
Is it sadistic of him to be curious of Jongin’s impending status throughout the university? There’s a reason, a meaning, an explanation for his obsession with Jongin. He pushes it to the back of his head, cages it in with all the other thoughts he’s not allowed to think.
------
Jongin is pleasant company. His taste in movies leaves a lot to be desired but at least he doesn’t talk through them, not like Kyungsoo’s other friends.
“I never picked you for a movies kinda guy,” Jongin says, sipping at his glass of water. They’ve run out of anything with a high sugar content, both Jongin and Kyungsoo unwilling to move and find more. “From what I’ve heard, you barely make it through small talk.”
“What?” Kyungsoo asks, distracted. Jongin’s film choice of the evening is more to Kyungsoo’s taste, a little more story and far less explosions.
“I thought you were teaching me the ways,” Jongin looks smug. Kyungsoo’s never seen him without his default expression, or one of disgust. He’s never considered Jongin to be capable of more emotions, expressions, hasn’t yet realised that he’s a far more dimensional human being than Kyungsoo gives him credit for.
“I don’t watch movies to pick up.”
On screen, a woman screams, a chainsaw revs. What the film lacks in explosions it makes up with gore, red tinted corn syrup coating both set and actors. Kyungsoo’s never seen American Psycho before, but he’s enjoying it. The black comedy, the commentary on excessive consumption, the unreliable narrator-it’s all fascinating.
Jongin knows him better than he thought.
“I thought you were supposed to be teaching me,” Jongin drawls, “I thought we weren’t friends.”
“I’m easing you into it,” Kyungsoo replies, distracted. On screen a woman runs down the stairwell in fear, screaming and crying. “Can’t take you out of your comfort zone just yet.”
“If you were there, I’d be comfortable,” Jongin says loaded words with the kind of nonchalance Kyungsoo only dreams of having. “Or are you embarrassed to be seen with me in public?”
“People will talk,” Kyungsoo mutters, “you don’t want that kind of reputation.”
“True,” Jongin’s nose wrinkles in distaste. “I don’t wanna end up like Sehun.”
Sehun and his longing glances and infatuated stares. Pretty Little Thing and the way he ignores them. Jongin isn’t the dirty little secret, Kyungsoo is. Someone to pass away the time when the curious gazes of the gossiping masses have turned away. He’s used to it, uses the shame and the guilt as protection, shields himself behind the feeling of being unwanted.
“You won’t,” Kyungsoo says. He doesn’t pat Jongin’s thigh in comfort, doesn’t take his eyes away from the screen.
Jongin mumbles something, words quiet and unintelligible.
Patrick Bateman closes in on his victim.
------
“Hi,” Pretty Little Thing offers his greeting out of courtesy alone, his tone rough and impatient. “Please tell Sehun to leave me alone.”
“Tell him yourself,” Kyungsoo turns the page of his textbook, barely sparing a glance in his direction. It’s enough to pick up the name on his tag-Luhan- before he settles back into his study.
“You see him more often,” Luhan fiddles with the hem of his apron anxiously.
“What are you so afraid of?” He asks, monotone, “Sehun’s hardly intimidating.”
“Tell me about him,” Luhan says suddenly. The cafe is more or less empty, the few customers already seated and served. Several of Luhan’s co-workers stand behind the counter, cleaning and chatting.
“He’s…” Kyungsoo pauses, “he’s great.”
“You’re either lying or holding something back,” Luhan glances at the still empty cafe before taking a seat across from Kyungsoo. “And there’s too many rumours to support both of those theories, so I’ll have to ask you to elaborate.”
“Sehun’s a better person than the rumours make him out to be,” Kyungsoo shrugs, “I don’t know what else to say.”
“And I don’t know what to do,” Luhan plays with the stack of napkins on the table, not quite able to meet Kyungsoo’s eye.
“Can’t help with that, sorry,” Kyungsoo shrugs, “feelings aren’t my thing.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“The rumours again, really?” He responds, stretching in feigned boredom, “Gossip is above you.”
“Jongin told me,” Luhan smirks at Kyungsoo’s surprise. “What, didn’t know Jongin had other friends?” He scoffs, “I’m sorry, but you don’t exactly have a monopoly over his time.”
“Why are you here, Luhan?” Kyungsoo sighs, rubbing at his temples with exaggerated annoyance.
“To see if the rumours were true,” he replies. The door to the cafe opens, a group of students entering in search of shelter and caffeine.
“What rumours?” Kyungsoo spots Jongin within the crowd. He frowns, briefly, at the sight of Kyungsoo and Luhan together.
“All of them,” Luhan says. He stands, brushing the creases from his clothes.
“And?” Kyungsoo prompts. It’s not like him to care for people’s opinions of him, but he’s found himself caring of late, perhaps a little too much.
“I can disprove a few,” Luhan says, “others…” he trails off, eyes flicking between Jongin as he orders his coffee and where Kyungsoo still pretends to study. “Others I’m still not sure about.”
He leaves, and Kyungsoo expects Jongin to take his place. He forgets, just for a moment, that Jongin doesn’t want to be seen with him, is ready to reignite one of their earlier conversations. Jongin slips past him without a word, and Kyungsoo remembers- sharing a table in the library looks like a coincidence, but sharing a table at a cafe is deliberate.
Kyungsoo sits alone in his corner, the dirty little secret.
------
A quiet weekday night, no noise save for the turning of pages and the scratches of pen against paper. Kyungsoo has a laptop for assignments, but he prefers to use a notebook to study. He learns quicker like that, absorbing information via muscle memory, ready to be repeated on his handwritten exams.
On the table next to him, his phone buzzes:
I got your number from Sehun, the text message says, wondering when if you’re free tonight?
It’s not uncommon for people to find his number and confess their desires through the screen of their phone. Though most of his anonymous suitors tend to try a little dirty talk or send photos to entice him, and this person has done none of the above.
Are you new at this or what?, Kyungsoo scoffs, pics or no deal.
Of what? Jesus, he’s got a real hopeless case on his hands, but they’re always more fun to ruin. If the guy is half what attractive, Kyungsoo will be there. He may even lower his standards a little, just for the night. Virgins have always been his favourite.
You, preferrably without clothes.
What the fuck no
You wanna do this or not? Kyungsoo grows impatient. He plays games but doesn’t play around; if this guy’s too naive for nudes he’s not worth the time.
It’s Jongin, you asshole, Kyungsoo can’t help but laugh. Of course it’s Jongin, of course it is. Clueless Jongin who doesn’t know about the secret late night texts and dick picks sent during class, doesn’t know that Kyungsoo’s inbox is filled with more nude photos than pleasantries. Kyungsoo can’t remember the last time someone messaged him like this, just to chat and nothing more.
I wanna go get food but Sehun’s out
Are you asking me on a date? He’s funny when he wants to be, and with the right people. Turns out Jongin is one of them, and it’s less of a shock than it should be. Being around Jonign is comfortable, normal. It’s probably what friendship feels, or at least something like it.
Would you say yes if it was? Jongin throws him for a loop. The worst part is not knowing the answer; Kyungsoo’s never been on a date before, and part of him is curious. The rest of him finds the whole concept so utterly nauseating, emotions contradicting themselves inside his head.
I wish I was there to see your face, Jongin continues, I bet you look hilarious right now.
you little shit, Kyungsoo replies, realising that Jongin has thoroughly played him.
did you laugh? He can almost picture Jongin’s grin.
I nearly had an aneurysm
so where are we meeting?
So he’s serious, then. It’s not an invite to his house, it’s an invite out. Jongin must be desperate if he’s coming to Kyungsoo, can’t help but wonder how many people have rejected him before Jongin finally thought of him.
I’m craving Thai, but it’s up to you
Kyungsoo sighs.
see you in 20
------
“You’re awfully touchy today,” Kyungsoo points out, motioning to the hand resting lightly on his forearm. “Are you that starved for affection?”
Their booth is big enough for at least four people, there’s plenty of space for them to sit together without touching. Jongin treats him like an armchair,
“I’m like this with everyone,” Jongin mumbles, embarrassed. He doesn’t shift his hand away, instead grasping tighter, as if to prove a point.
Something about Jongin has changed. He’s not as uptight as Kyungsoo remembers; smiling at everything and nothing, his focus solely on Kyungsoo. People stare, they always do. Jongin seems not to notice, or is pointedly ignoring them.
“People will think we’re fucking,” Kyungsoo points out, “you want that kind of rep?”
“People can believe what they want,” Jongin shrugs, “I like your company, I want to hang out with you. If anyone has a problem with that, then that’s their issue and not mine.”
So Jongin’s been soul searching, then. He knows enough about Kyungsoo to know what people say about his company, and he’s decided that the snide comments and hushed whispers are worth it. Kyungsoo isn’t a good person, and he’s definitely not worth the drama and effort that befriending him seems to take. Jongin is something else- pretty Jongin and his righteous morals, and for some reason he holds Kyungsoo’s friendship higher than his own reputation.
“What do you do for fun?” Jongin knows about Kyungsoo, but he doesn’t know him at all.
There’s so much he could talk about, from his favourite singers to his guilty pleasure of watching blackhead extraction videos. But that’s too personal. Kyungsoo isn’t too good at opening up to people, and Jongin is no exception.
“Get my dick sucked,” Kyungsoo deadpans. Another answer sits on the tip of his tongue. He swallows it along with a sip of water, something to keep his mouth busy.
“Apart from that,” Jongin swats at his arm playfully, rolling his eyes.
“Sometimes,” Kyungsoo says softly, it’s a ploy, a trick. “Sometimes I’ll suck a dick, instead.”
Jongin groans, Kyungsoo laughs.
“You’re insufferable,” Jongin says, though he smiles at Kyungsoo nonetheless.
“You love it,” he replies.
Jongin doesn’t refute it.
------
Kyungsoo rejects Jongin’s invitation for another movie night. It’s been too long since he’s been out, since he’s hunted. Anticipation and excitement thrums beneath this skin, his heart beating in time to the god awful music blaring from low quality speakers.
“Hey.”
People don’t chase Kyungsoo. He’s the one who acts first, it’s only fun to play when there’s a game.
“I feel like this has been a long time coming,” a hand on his hip, someone whispering in his ear.
Junmyeon is someone Kyungsoo knows by name, though not personally. The run in different circles, Junmyeon with his Queer Club and the straight boys he seduces, the girls whose hearts crush under the weight of his nonchalance. Kyungsoo with his old one night stands and Jongin. They’re similar people but they’re hardly friends. Magnets with equal magnetic poles repel one another. Kyungsoo and Junmyeon are exactly the same.
“I suppose so,” Kyungsoo agrees, “should we just get this over with?”
“This isn’t a chore,” Junmyeon kisses Kyungsoo on the cheek. He’s done a lot of things, but such mild, affectionate gestures are completely foreign to him. “It’s sex, and it’s supposed to be fun.”
“Do you ever get bored of this?” Kyungsoo asks. Junmyeon removes himself from Kyungsoo’s back.
“Woah, deep,” he laughs. He’s rather attractive, the smile he gives Kyungsoo sweet and disarming. “I never knew you were the philosophical type.”
“I’m just running out of pretty faces to fuck,” Kyungsoo sighs, offering a smile of his own, “I should find myself a new hobby.”
“Or settle down,” Junmyeon offers. Kyungsoo looks shocked and he knows it. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Parties are the worst place for meaningful conversations, everyone floats from one group to the other, joining part way through a discussion and leaving when they see fit. He sees why they’re called social butterflies, what with they way they sit still for only moments at a time, constantly moving and erratic. Vapid and flighty, Kyungsoo sees a few butterflies on their way over to him, to Junmyeon. Kyungsoo takes Junmyeon by the hand and drags him outside.
“You’re getting bored of it all, aren’t you?” Kyungsoo asks as they find some peace and quiet. He sips at the drink in his hand absentmindedly.
“A little,” Junmyeon admits. They sit together, legs and shoulders pressed together. Kyungsoo’s not used to this much human contact while still fully clothed. “I’ve found someone.”
Jongin comes to mind, completely unbidden. His smile, his laugh, his terrible taste in movies. Pretty, pretty Jongin, so easy to fall in love with. Kyungsoo pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind.
“Yet here you are, seeking me out,” another sip, no response. “They’re not into you, are they?”
Kyungsoo understand unrequited love in theory, though he’s had no personal experience with it. Honestly, it sounds awful. He’s glad he’s rarely afflicted with troubling things like feelings and emotion.
“Church boys don’t go for guys like me,” Junmyeon replies wryly, “they don’t go for boys in general, but I got my hopes up.”
“That’s…” Kyungsoo starts. He doesn’t know how to console people. “Wanna make out for a bit to take your mind off it?”
“You’re as bad as they say,” Junmyeon laughs. Those rumours again. Why won’t they just go away? “But sure, why not.”
Junmyeon kisses him with enough emotion that a broken hearted person is capable of. It’s not the sloppy kind of kissing Kyungsoo is used to, not hurried or rushed or full of lust. It’s nice, dare he say it.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hopes Junmyeon sticks around.
------
“Minseok?” Sehun asks, pointing at someone in the crowd. Minseok dances with Luhan, a little too close to be friendly. Sehun is so unbelievably transparent.
Jongin groans into his drink.
“I don’t think Jongin would last a round with Sir,” Kyungsoo points out. Sehun knows about Minseok and his kinks from experience, and Kyungsoo knows because he walked in on it. “He’s a little intense.”
“Yixing?” Sehun’s eyes light up, gesturing as he walks through the door, fashionably late and a nervous friend in toe. “You know Yixing, right? What about him?”
“I’m not sleeping with my friends,” Jongin crosses his arms into an X in front of his torso. “So he’s out.”
It’s probably for the best. Yixing’s friend looks uncomfortable and out of his depth. Yixing wouldn’t just abandon someone like that for a piece of ass, not even one as nice as Jongin’s.
“You’re being difficult,” Kyungsoo chides. Jongin has finally admitted to his painfully inactive and uneventful sex life. Kyungsoo’s still adamant in his quest to help Jongin to open up a little more, and Sehun’s ever eager to help.
Baekhyun’s birthday and subsequent party serve at the perfect backdrop to put their plan into action. If worst comes to worst, Jongin can always makeout with Baekhyun for a while, the birthday boy seemingly on a quest to kiss every person in the room.
“I’m picky,” Jongin mutters, distracting Kyungsoo as he falls into his routine of people watching. “So sue me.”
“How about we just get him drunk and see where his dick leads him?” Kyungsoo proposes, “we can keep the creeps away, and Jongin can get laid.”
“You’d do that for me?” Jongin looks entirely too grateful. It’s just sex, nothing that should require such meticulous planning.
“Sure,” Kyungsoo shrugs. It’s not that big of a deal. Yeah, he probably won’t be able to pick up, but he’s just spotted Junmyeon chatting to Yixing and his nervous friend, so he might have someone to go home with after all.
“What about Chanyeol?” Jongin says after a moment, pointing at the space where Chanyeol’s head peeks over the crowd. “Is he okay?”
“I’d fuck him again,” Kyungsoo mentions casually, “he’s good with his mouth and does this thing with his fingers---”
“Too much information,” Jongin pushes him lightly. He’s smiling, though, so he can’t be too upset about Kyungsoo’s former conquests.
“I second the finger thing,” Sehun adds, “but I also highly recommend Minseok.”
“Thirding the finger thing and seconding the Minseok recommendation,” Kyungsoo doesn’t see Baekhyun from behind Sehun, the birthday boy sneaking through the crowd and barging their way into their conversation. “Though I’d suggest Kyungsoo as an alternative, he’s incredible in bed.”
“Jongin doesn’t sleep with his friends,” Kyungsoo points out. Sehun’s laughing, the asshole.
“You’re missing out,” Baekhyun sighs, “Kyungsoo’s cock is a gift.”
“No thanks,” Jongin looks away, “I’m not interested.”
“Chanyeol thinks you’re cute,” Sehun interrupts, showing his phone to Jongin. By the looks of it, he’s been messaging Chanyeol, and the response has come back in Jongin’s favour. “So if you wanted to try the finger thing?”
“Fine,” Jongin sighs, “let’s do this before I change my mind.”
He walks off, Sehun following closely behind. They leave Kyungsoo and Baekhyun alone, which is either a good thing or a terrible mistake. Kyungsoo’s not too sure where Baekhyun lies in the scheme of things.
“I hope you’re my birthday present,” he says, cupping Kyungsoo lightly through his jeans.
“How many people have you said that to?” Kyungsoo indulges him, resting his hand over Baekhyun’s and thrusting gently into the touch.
“Just you,” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip, “I meant what I said. It’s my birthday and I deserve the best.”
“Happy birthday,” Kyungsoo says with as much sincerity as he can muster. It’s not that he dislikes Baekhyun, but he’s never spoken to him about anything other than sex, they rarely spend time together while clothed.
He’s lead through the hallway of Baekhyun’s apartment, past Jongin where he’s pinned to the wall by a very eager Chanyeol. Having never seen Jongin in a sexual light, he’s shocked. His mouth looks soft, pliant. Chanyeol swallows his groans, his pleased gasps as their bodies rock together. He looks incredible with his messy hair a kiss-bitten lips, his droopy eyes so beautiful and sensual as he makes eye contact with Kyungsoo in the hall.
It’s hard to look away.
Baekhyun tugs at his hand, drags him towards his bedroom.
Jongin’s eyes slide closed as Chanyeol’s hand slips into his pants.
------
Junmyeon sticks around. He sits with Kyungsoo and introduces him to new people and they become friends. He fits all of Kyungsoo’s criteria, so it’s not too much of a shock to his system. But for the first time, Kyungsoo actually has a social life. He’s emotionally exhausted and not open to admitting that he’s enjoying himself, but it’s progress.
With Junmyeon comes Yixing, someone who never stayed, but only because he didn’t realise he was allowed to. Jongdae’s introduction comes later, along with the sudden realisation on Kyungsoo’s part the second he spots the crucifix pendant hanging from Jongdae’s neck.
He talks to Baekhyun, sometimes. Chanyeol too. He’s surrounded by people at all times and he wonders what the Kyungsoo of six months ago would think of his current self. Would he be disgusted? Proud? Would he ask if the nagging feeling in his chest is finally gone? Kyungsoo tries not to focus on emotions, prefers to leave them buried, just as he left them.
Jongin becomes somewhat of a constant, the person who Kyungsoo spends the most time with. The concept of a best friend is lost on Kyungsoo, though he supposes Jongin’s the only person who fits the description.
“A latte for your thoughts?” Sehun gently shakes the cardboard cup in his hands, placing it on the table in front of Kyungsoo. He doesn’t speak as loud as he usually does, though he’s still a little too vocal for the silence of the library.
“I’m studying,” Kyungsoo says. Sehun has a sixth sense for Kyungsoo’s caffeine needs, but he’s assuming that Sehun had ulterior motives in visiting the cafe. As far as he knows, Luhan still isn’t really talking to him.
“Your books are closed,” Sehun points out, “and so were your eyes. You were daydreaming.”
“I needed coffee,” he sighs, “which you have supplied.”
“I can supply advice, too, if you need it,” Sehun pushes, “it’s not like you to zone out like that.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re conflicted.”
“You’re full of shit,” Kyungsoo replies, “honestly, I’m fine.”
“If you say so.”
Sehun sips at his frappe. The resulting slurp! resonates through the library.
------
“You’ve slept with your entire friend group at least once,” Jongin likes to play a game of sorts, listing off rumours he’s heard to check the validity of them. It’s slightly masochistic of him, because he wants to know the truth but doesn’t want the details. Unfortunately, where Kyungsoo is concerned, the truth requires details, and so Jongin learns a little too much about his friend with each question.
“I do have some standards,” Kyungsoo yawns. He’s grown fond of his newfound friends. But there’s a few of them who don’t quite fit his criteria. Jongin is one, Jongdae another. Months ago he may have tried with both of them; pretty, pretty Jongin and unobtainable Jongdae. For now he’s happy without knowing how Jongin’s lips feel against his, or the noises he makes when he comes.
They’re at Jongin’s apartment, some B-Grade movie playing in the background. Jongin has his head resting on Kyungsoo’s lap; he’s the kind of touchy friend that blurs the line between platonic and not with his affection. If it were anyone else, Kyungsoo would be expecting a blowjob at some point. But it’s Jongin, and Kyungsoo knows that he rests on his thighs because they’re comfortable.
“Hmm,” Jongin scratches at his forehead as he thinks, “twenty guy gangbang?”
“Five.” Kyungsoo corrects, “first year of university. There’s a video out there somewhere, I could track it down if you wanted to watch?”
“No thanks,” Jongin scrunches his nose. “You have multiple guys on the go.”
“On occasion,” Kyungsoo confirms, “it’s not a conscious effort, but it happens every once in awhile.”
“You once sucked a guy off for course notes.” Jongin enquires. He’s oddly curious today, usually he asks about a single, recent rumour and then backs out once Kyungsoo starts talking semantics.
“Wrong,” Kyungsoo boops Jongin on the nose. He doesn’t know why he does it, just the situation feels right. If Jongin can be overly affectionate, then so can Kyungsoo. Besides, he’s just engaging in skinship on a more Jongin-like level. Making him feel accepted and all that. “I sucked him off and he gave me the notes as a thank you present.”
“You’re an awful human, you know that, right?” Jongin mutters sleepily, nuzzling into Kyungsoo’s thigh.
“I can’t be that bad,” Kyungsoo replies, “you’re friends with me for a reason.”
Jongin is silent. There’s no real reason as to their friendship. Or at least, not from Jongin’s perspective. Kyungsoo offers his friendship because the notoriously hot, notoriously prudish Kim Jongin needs to live a little before he graduates from that fancy ass, vaguely science-y degree of his. As the Number One Fun Guy on campus, Kyungsoo feels it’s his duty to show Jongin a life outside his text books.
Jongin isn’t like him. The night he spent with Chanyeol was an outlier not a regular occurrence. He hasn’t been with anyone since, and has even rejected Chanyeol’s offer for a round two. He’s not the type stage a five guy gangbang because he’s bored, there’s five guys who want to sleep with him and he can’t decide which one of them he takes home for the night. Not like Kyungsoo.
“Hey,” Kyungsoo prompts, nudging at Jongin’s forehead with his finger. “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
They’ve been friends for a while, but Kyungsoo’s never asked. He’s equal parts curious and bored; he wants to know why Jongin so frequently ignores or rejects the passes made at him. All things considering, he’s probably more popular than Kyungsoo. If given the choice, most people would probably go straight for Jongin. But Jongin isn’t as easy as Kyungsoo, a much harder chase, and so he often goes overlooked.
“No time,” Jongin yawns, nuzzling back into Kyungsoo’s thigh, trying to escape the annoying prods. “Between homework and you, I don’t have time for anyone else.”
“Me?” Kyungsoo likes playing with Jongin’s hair. It’s soft and fluffy, the strands bounce back into place when he pulls on them.
“You’re needy.” Comes Jongin’s simple reply, “I can’t date anyone when you’re around.”
“I’m not needy,” Kyungsoo pouts, “you’re needy.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Jongin replies.
Part 2