(for lattelotus) composed
For: lattelotus
Title: composed
Pairings: Kai/D.O
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,645
Summary: college!au. Kyungsoo and his new project partner don't quite see eye-to-eye.
Author’s Note: dear recipient, i deviated a bit from the prompt you gave me, but i hope you like it anyways! :D ♥ this was so much fun to write. also, thank you to my amazing beta for holding my hand through this - i couldn't have done it without you.
Kyungsoo wakes up to the sun burning into his eyes and "Gee" blaring from his phone on the bedside table. Something - no, everything - is wrong.
"What the fuck, Jongdae," he says when he finally manages to pull his phone off the table and hit the "Accept" button, all while his face stays buried in his pillow. "Why is my ringtone - "
"You're laate," Jongdae sings, "better hurry!"
What do I care? Kyungsoo wants to say, but all that's left on the other end of the line is the dial tone. He lifts his head up far enough to check the time, but as soon as he does his eyes snap open. Tuesday, 10:43 A.M. Composition starts in two minutes, and Kyungsoo's all the way back in his dorm with no clean socks and wearing only his boxers, and -
Right. It doesn't matter. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being fashionably late. Or a little more than that, but whatever. There's plenty of time to spare.
Kyungsoo walks into class at eleven-fifteen on the dot, Grande half-sugar, half-splenda extra-whip mocha in his hands, and takes a seat. Mr. Kim is saying something about dance and stories, then something else about music; he only pauses briefly to shoot Kyungsoo a glance and let out a sigh.
He holds out a slip of paper. "Can someone pass this down? Kyungsoo, you've missed all of the information about your final projects. Ask someone after class. Now, presentations for today…"
Kyungsoo finds himself sinking lower and lower into his chair, as if that'll make him any less noticeable. The tips of his ears are heating up, even though being embarrassed now is stupid, and when the slip of paper makes its way over to him, he doesn't even bother looking at it, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling all through the last few presentations for this project. At the end of class, he shoves it into his pocket and makes his way out, avoiding Mr. Kim's eyes.
"If being late bothers you, you should just stop being late," Jongdae says on their way out.
Kyungsoo stiffens. "It doesn't - "
"Hey, it's not a bad thing," Jongdae says. "Just means you like to be timely. You never used to be late in high school."
"Let's not talk about high school."
"Sure. The final project - who's your partner?"
"Partner?"
"That piece of paper you got. It has your partner's name on it."
Kyungsoo has to think for a moment before he remembers where it is and reaches into his pocket, digging out the crumpled scrap and smoothing it out. "Kim Jongin? He's not in our class."
"We're collaborating with people from other departments. You compose something, the other person creates something to go with it, and together you perform it. You have Kim Jongin? Doesn't Chanyeol know him? I think he's from the dance department," Jongdae says, glancing back over his shoulder. "Speaking of whom, we've forgotten him."
"Oh," Kyungsoo says. When he looks back, there's Chanyeol hurrying to catch up with them, grinning as brightly as always, snapback nearly flying off his head. "We did."
"Chanyeol!" Jongdae says when Chanyeol gets closer. "You know somebody named Jongin, right?"
"Yeah, we had a class together last semester. We studied together," Chanyeol says between gasps. He's doubled over and panting, even though Kyungsoo and Jongdae have only been walking for a couple of minutes. "Why?"
"He's my partner," Kyungsoo says. "For the project."
"Oh, cool, he's a sweet kid," says Chanyeol, straightening up and fixing his hat. "He definitely won't let you slack off, though. If there's anything he's firm about, it's that."
"Well," Kyungsoo says. "He'll have to deal with it. I work at my own pace."
"I don't know," Chanyeol starts to say, but then Baekhyun shows up and conversation shifts to what they're going to do for lunch. Kyungsoo does his best not to let the relief show, but Baekhyun rolls his eyes when he sees the look on Kyungsoo's face anyway. Baekhyun always has said that Kyungsoo's easy to read.
♫
Kyungsoo gets a series of texts at 7 A.M. - earlier than anyone should ever be awake, really - and almost doesn't bother checking, but then he remembers that the last time someone texted him this early, it was because Baekhyun had stayed out all night and was stranded somewhere with a lot of graffiti and used condoms in the alleys. When Kyungsoo ignored him, Baekhyun had called over and over until Kyungsoo felt irritated enough to actually pick up. Kyungsoo's friends are lucky to have him, honestly.
It's an unknown number. Kyungsoo frowns at his phone and squints through the gunk in his eyes.
Unknown: Hi, this is Kim Jongin. Chanyeol gave me your number.
Unknown: I was wondering when you wanted to meet?
Unknown: For the project.
Unknown: I'm only free Tuesday evenings, Wednesday and Friday mornings, and Saturday afternoons.
Unknown: Let me know!
Kyungsoo almost ignores him and goes back to sleep, but then again, Jongdae spent most of yesterday not-so-subtly implying that this is a project Kyungsoo should try on for once. He sits up in bed and blinks a few times to clear his vision, then replies: im free now. Jongin texts back a few minutes later.
Kim Jongin: ok. Library at 8?
An hour later, Kyungsoo wanders into the library, coffee in hand as usual. He's ten minutes late, but that's better than usual, at least. Jongdae would be proud.
He heads through the maze of tables beside the shelves, searching for somebody who's "tall and looks like a dancer," as per Chanyeol's description, and finds no one. He sends Jongin a quick where r u and watches the room for people on their phones - not helpful. But a couple of tables to his left, a mess of brown hair jolts up from the desk and the boy there shakes himself awake, rubbing his eyes as he checks his phone. He looks up and around him, like he's scanning the room for something, and he stops on Kyungsoo, looks down at Kyungsoo's phone and back at his own, then gives a small, slow wave. Found him.
"Hi," Jongin says when Kyungsoo approaches. He bites his lip and looks away for a second, then looks back up. "Um. You're late."
"Yeah, sorry," says Kyungsoo, settling down in the chair across from him. "So. Any ideas?"
"Please don't be late again," Jongin says, not looking at him. He pulls out a binder, highlighters, and a pen. "I'm on a tight schedule."
"Yeah, yeah," Kyungsoo says. "One-time thing. Sorry."
Jongin doesn't look at him much while they work and discuss their ideas, eyes fixed on the paper he's taking notes on, and he doesn't even attempt small talk or ask Kyungsoo anything about himself. He's shy, but friendly, Chanyeol had told him earlier, when Kyungsoo had called just to make sure he wasn't paired with a psychopath. This doesn't seem like the same Kim Jongin Chanyeol knows at all.
"I have to go," Jongin says, getting up as soon as it's eleven-thirty. He's still not looking at Kyungsoo, face closed off. "I have to get lunch and go to class. Text me so we can meet up later this week--and don't be late."
He's gone before Kyungsoo can even think to say "goodbye." Kyungsoo lets out a huff and gathers his things up as well, texting Jongdae to ask where they're going for lunch on his way out.
Kyungsoo is late every single time after that; Jongin never says much about it, just continues to be terse and cold, as always. They've got plenty of time before the project's due--in a little under two months--and there are better things to do, as in sleeping. Sometimes, during their work sessions, now at one of the dance practice rooms, Kyungsoo actually works a bit on the piece he's composing for Jongin to dance to, but mostly he just naps, or watches Jongin dance to whatever there is so far. But progress on the piece is stagnant, for the most part, and Kyungsoo watches Jongin dance to the same thirty seconds of the piece about a hundred times before suddenly, at their sixth meeting, he stops.
"Listen," Jongin says, still breathing hard. "I was being nice because you're Chanyeol's friend. But you're not even trying."
"Didn't Chanyeol tell you?" Kyungsoo says. "That's what I do. I don't try."
"Why?" Jongin's voice rises to a half-shout, and the tips of his ears are beginning to turn red. This is more emotion than Jongin has shown in the last few weeks combined. "Why don't you try?"
"That's not your problem," Kyungsoo says, shutting his laptop and gathering his things. It's almost time for lunch anyway. "It doesn't matter. It'll get done. It always does."
He's halfway to the door when he hears a loud sigh, and then, quieter: "It's all that matters."
Kyungsoo tightens his grip on the strap of his backpack and makes sure to slam the door extra hard on his way out.
♫
It's nearly midnight when Kyungsoo finally brings himself to open his backpack and start homework. These nights always remind him of high school, when he used to stay up all night just to ensure an A on the next test, or to take extra notes so he wouldn't miss a single question on the next quiz. The memories still make him shudder. There are too many things from high school that Kyungsoo doesn't want to remember.
Still, he falls into a rhythm, gets used to the sound of pencil scratching paper and the hum of the air conditioner by the door, working until his eyelids feel heavy from exhaustion for the first time in a while and he wants nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep. There's just one assignment left: composition. He rifles through his backpack, searching for the handwritten scores, but it's not there. Even when he goes through it again, and then through his desk, and all of his neatly-arranged folders (a force of habit), they aren't there.
The last time he'd had them out was… the dance studio. He'd left pretty quickly--maybe the papers are still there. For a moment, he contemplates just leaving it and sleeping instead, but this is the last assignment of this kind for a while, and Kyungsoo should probably at least try to get on his teacher's good side for once. Besides, the studios are usually open all night.
It's a ten-minute walk through dimly-lit pathways to the dance building, silent until he gets a little closer to the open back door and hears a strain of music coming through, hard to make out through the open air, but undoubtedly there. Kyungsoo follows the light coming through to the room he and Jongin usually meet in down the hall, filtering out through the tiny window on the door. Jongin is inside, dancing to something with a strong beat, like the music Chanyeol likes to compose; in the corner, Kyungsoo spots a few sheets of paper lying on their own, forgotten. The scores.
He almost goes in, almost, but as he reaches for the doorknob, something about the way Jongin moves catches his eye--he's graceful, even as he moves sharply to each beat and the tempo increases, gradual, but enough to make Kyungsoo's own heart rate speed up a bit. His movements speed up as the music crescendos and, in the blink of an eye, Jongin crumples to the floor mid-turn and stays like that, chest heaving, staring up at the ceiling with eyes so shiny that Kyungsoo's not sure whether the water trickling down Jongin's temples are sweat or tears, or both. The music keeps running, bouncing off the walls, and Kyungsoo almost moves push the door open and to shut it off when Jongin's expression hardens and he lifts himself up off the floor, stares into his own eyes in the mirror for a few beats and then slips back into his choreography like he never stopped.
The music is still going when Kyungsoo leaves, empty-handed. He'll come back when he meets with Jongin tomorrow, he decides. It's too late to be doing homework anyway.
♫
When Kyungsoo stumbles into the practice room the next morning, still struggling to keep his eyes open, Jongin is asleep, snoring softly, head pillowed on a wadded-up jacket on the floor. He's still in the clothes Kyungsoo saw him wearing yesterday, and from the clutter left all around the room, he probably never left. Kyungsoo settles down in the opposite corner with the composition homework he'd left here before and gets to work.
It's not very interesting--basic stuff and tedious analysis questions, mostly--and Kyungsoo finds himself glancing up often, sometimes getting sidetracked just watching Jongin's chest rise and fall. In sleep, he looks a lot less severe than he does when he's with Kyungsoo; his mouth isn't set in a thin line like usual, and every now and then he smiles a little and mumbles something in his sleep. Cute. Or, maybe, it would be cute if it weren't for the fact that Jongin is the embodiment of everything Kyungsoo wanted to be.
"I couldn't sleep last night because of you," Kyungsoo finds himself saying, but he's not sure whether it's to Jongin's sleeping form or himself. He watches his own reflection move in the mirror across from him. "I guess you just reminded me. Of high school. I was just like you. Can you believe it?" He laughs. It feels forced. "Yeah. I didn't dance or anything, but I wanted so badly to get into a good college somewhere. Every failing grade was like a death sentence or something. I always thought I'd do better if I studied harder, which I did, I guess, but it never felt like enough. I'd talk to my college counselor and she'd pretend to be hopeful, but I think in the end we both knew my dream school wasn't even an option. My parents thought I was stupid, my friends probably all pitied me--I guess, in the end, I just never felt like anything I did was enough. I got in here, which isn't too bad, because at least the arts programs here are pretty great and I have some friends here too, but. I guess by the end of it I just felt like, since I didn't get into my dream school, or get to be valedictorian, or do anything at all significant--why even try? What's the point, when all I'll ever do is fail? All that wasted effort doesn't even matter, in the end."
"Don't think like that," says Jongin, and immediately Kyungsoo's eyes snap over to him. He's sitting up, watching Kyungsoo, eyes curious. Shit.
"How--how long have you been listening?" Kyungsoo asks. He can feel his face heating up already.
"A while," Jongin says. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just woke up, and you were talking, and. I listened."
Kyungsoo almost snaps at him, almost. Instead, he buries his head in his arms, folded atop knees pulled to his chest, and when he finally looks up, he says, "It wasn't your fault. Don't be sorry."
"Just, I--I know it was kinda personal, so--"
"I wouldn't have said it in front of you if I didn't want you to hear it."
Jongin's mouth is open to say something else, but at that, he freezes. Kyungsoo can't move either.
"Oh," Jongin says finally.
Kyungsoo stares at the floor beside his shoes. "Yeah, anyway. I'm. Gonna leave now."
He's only just begun packing his things when Jongin speaks up again. "You can't just give up."
"I'm not giving up," Kyungsoo says. "I'm uncomfortable, so I'm leaving."
"That's not what I mean. I mean everything else you do--skipping homework; never trying your hardest at anything, from what I've seen; showing up late all the time even though I can tell it bothers you; all of it. None of that is going to get you anywhere. When you fail, you don't give up--don't you know that? When you fail, you try and try and try and you keep trying until you don't fail anymore. That's what they teach you here. You can't always pretend like there's no point in anything!" Jongin's voice has been rising, getting steadily louder as he goes on; the look in his eyes pins Kyungsoo in place as soon as he manages to look up. After a moment, Jongin looks away and adds, quieter, "I know it's not my place to tell you any of this. But I'm getting a little--no, a lot--sick of this. Think of it this way, maybe. If nothing you do matters, why do anything at all?"
This time, it's Jongin who gets up to leave, not bothering to clean the practice room or zip his bag shut like he always does so carefully; this time, it's Jongin whose walk is brisk and too loud on his way to the door, and it's Jongin who slams it shut.
Kyungsoo stays where he is for a while after that, papers and empty water bottles scattered all around him. He sits, and he thinks about it. If nothing you do matters, why do anything at all?
Four days later, Kyungsoo shows up to the practice room as planned, laptop and binder heavy in his backpack like always. Jongin looks at him from behind his laptop screen, starts to smile, and then quickly looks away. Kyungsoo sets his things down in answer.
They work in silence for a while; Kyungsoo doesn't bother breaking the silence to ask why Jongin isn't dancing today. Instead, he works and pretends not to notice the discomfort in the air until he's pressed Ctrl-S, listened to the song one last time, and turned his laptop to face Jongin.
"It's done."
Jongin jumps, turning to face him, eyebrows creased. "What's done?"
"The song," Kyungsoo says. "For the project. It's done."
It takes a few moments of Jongin staring at him, eyes wide, for him to get a response. "What-- really? How? Last week you only had--"
"Thirty seconds, I know. But I work quickly when I want to."
Jongin spends another ten seconds studying Kyungsoo's face, like he's searching for something that's changed. Kyungsoo lets him--he'd done the same in the bathroom this morning. Jongin smiles. "So you were listening."
"I'm not admitting to anything," Kyungsoo says, but he allows himself a small smile. Jongin plugs his earbuds into Kyungsoo's laptop, only grinning wider as he presses play.
"So?" Kyungsoo says when it's over, resisting the urge to bite his lip. "What'd you think?"
"I think," says Jongin, words slow, drawn-out, eyes trained on a spot to the right, on the mirror. "I think I know exactly what I'm gonna do."
♫
"Stop being so nervous," Jongin says. He's stretching outside the classroom, running through some of the choreography as Kyungsoo tries to warm up without choking up beside him. "We've practiced this. So many times. You'll be fine."
"What if I forget my parts? I always do," Kyungsoo moans, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to mess up. We're going to get a zero. We're going to fail our classes and it will be all my fault."
"You'll be fine," Jongin says again, and moves to stand in front of Kyungsoo, both hands on his shoulders so Kyungsoo's facing him. "You'll be fine."
"Yeah?" Kyungsoo says, meeting Jongin's eyes.
"Yeah," Jongin says. Before Kyungsoo can say anything else, Jongin leans in and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. "For luck," he explains, grinning. "Now there's no way you'll mess up."
Kyungsoo's pretty sure he's turned bright red, from the way his face is heating up right now. There's no hiding the smile on his face, though, even when Jongdae pokes his head out the door and says it's their turn, wiggling his eyebrows at Kyungsoo and winking before he goes back in. "You--we--um. Let's?"
"We can talk about it later," Jongin says, taking Kyungsoo's hand to pull him inside. "We have a song to perform."
In between lunch meetings and (mostly disastrous) nights out, Kyungsoo and Jongin have put together a performance that even Baekhyun calls "pretty damn great." The song starts out slow, heavy drum beats permeating the silence, and as Kyungsoo comes in with his part, ad-libs and lyrics he and Jongin had written together last week, Jongin emerges from the projector screen, a makeshift curtain. He catches Kyungsoo's eye and flashes him a grin mid-spin, and Kyungsoo almost misses his next cue to chime in again, stumbling a little over the words this time instead. Jongin's clearly trying not to laugh for the next few beats, but the pace of the song picks up a little and he and Kyungsoo both school their expressions into much calmer ones. When Kyungsoo takes a moment to glance at their audience, Jongdae's laughing into his palms in the back. Of course he is.
Jongin slips a reassuring hand through Kyungsoo's when they bow at the very end, and when he relaxes Kyungsoo realizes he's been shaking this whole time. He's never managed to get through a performance without forgetting anything before, and this time--it's so different. The thought only makes him smile wider.
"Missing lunch with us again?" Jongdae says at the end of class. It's not really a question.
"Yeah, sorry," Kyungsoo says, glancing over at Jongin, whose arm is linked through his. "But I think I have a date."
Title: composed
Pairings: Kai/D.O
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,645
Summary: college!au. Kyungsoo and his new project partner don't quite see eye-to-eye.
Author’s Note: dear recipient, i deviated a bit from the prompt you gave me, but i hope you like it anyways! :D ♥ this was so much fun to write. also, thank you to my amazing beta for holding my hand through this - i couldn't have done it without you.
Kyungsoo wakes up to the sun burning into his eyes and "Gee" blaring from his phone on the bedside table. Something - no, everything - is wrong.
"What the fuck, Jongdae," he says when he finally manages to pull his phone off the table and hit the "Accept" button, all while his face stays buried in his pillow. "Why is my ringtone - "
"You're laate," Jongdae sings, "better hurry!"
What do I care? Kyungsoo wants to say, but all that's left on the other end of the line is the dial tone. He lifts his head up far enough to check the time, but as soon as he does his eyes snap open. Tuesday, 10:43 A.M. Composition starts in two minutes, and Kyungsoo's all the way back in his dorm with no clean socks and wearing only his boxers, and -
Right. It doesn't matter. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being fashionably late. Or a little more than that, but whatever. There's plenty of time to spare.
Kyungsoo walks into class at eleven-fifteen on the dot, Grande half-sugar, half-splenda extra-whip mocha in his hands, and takes a seat. Mr. Kim is saying something about dance and stories, then something else about music; he only pauses briefly to shoot Kyungsoo a glance and let out a sigh.
He holds out a slip of paper. "Can someone pass this down? Kyungsoo, you've missed all of the information about your final projects. Ask someone after class. Now, presentations for today…"
Kyungsoo finds himself sinking lower and lower into his chair, as if that'll make him any less noticeable. The tips of his ears are heating up, even though being embarrassed now is stupid, and when the slip of paper makes its way over to him, he doesn't even bother looking at it, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling all through the last few presentations for this project. At the end of class, he shoves it into his pocket and makes his way out, avoiding Mr. Kim's eyes.
"If being late bothers you, you should just stop being late," Jongdae says on their way out.
Kyungsoo stiffens. "It doesn't - "
"Hey, it's not a bad thing," Jongdae says. "Just means you like to be timely. You never used to be late in high school."
"Let's not talk about high school."
"Sure. The final project - who's your partner?"
"Partner?"
"That piece of paper you got. It has your partner's name on it."
Kyungsoo has to think for a moment before he remembers where it is and reaches into his pocket, digging out the crumpled scrap and smoothing it out. "Kim Jongin? He's not in our class."
"We're collaborating with people from other departments. You compose something, the other person creates something to go with it, and together you perform it. You have Kim Jongin? Doesn't Chanyeol know him? I think he's from the dance department," Jongdae says, glancing back over his shoulder. "Speaking of whom, we've forgotten him."
"Oh," Kyungsoo says. When he looks back, there's Chanyeol hurrying to catch up with them, grinning as brightly as always, snapback nearly flying off his head. "We did."
"Chanyeol!" Jongdae says when Chanyeol gets closer. "You know somebody named Jongin, right?"
"Yeah, we had a class together last semester. We studied together," Chanyeol says between gasps. He's doubled over and panting, even though Kyungsoo and Jongdae have only been walking for a couple of minutes. "Why?"
"He's my partner," Kyungsoo says. "For the project."
"Oh, cool, he's a sweet kid," says Chanyeol, straightening up and fixing his hat. "He definitely won't let you slack off, though. If there's anything he's firm about, it's that."
"Well," Kyungsoo says. "He'll have to deal with it. I work at my own pace."
"I don't know," Chanyeol starts to say, but then Baekhyun shows up and conversation shifts to what they're going to do for lunch. Kyungsoo does his best not to let the relief show, but Baekhyun rolls his eyes when he sees the look on Kyungsoo's face anyway. Baekhyun always has said that Kyungsoo's easy to read.
♫
Kyungsoo gets a series of texts at 7 A.M. - earlier than anyone should ever be awake, really - and almost doesn't bother checking, but then he remembers that the last time someone texted him this early, it was because Baekhyun had stayed out all night and was stranded somewhere with a lot of graffiti and used condoms in the alleys. When Kyungsoo ignored him, Baekhyun had called over and over until Kyungsoo felt irritated enough to actually pick up. Kyungsoo's friends are lucky to have him, honestly.
It's an unknown number. Kyungsoo frowns at his phone and squints through the gunk in his eyes.
Unknown: Hi, this is Kim Jongin. Chanyeol gave me your number.
Unknown: I was wondering when you wanted to meet?
Unknown: For the project.
Unknown: I'm only free Tuesday evenings, Wednesday and Friday mornings, and Saturday afternoons.
Unknown: Let me know!
Kyungsoo almost ignores him and goes back to sleep, but then again, Jongdae spent most of yesterday not-so-subtly implying that this is a project Kyungsoo should try on for once. He sits up in bed and blinks a few times to clear his vision, then replies: im free now. Jongin texts back a few minutes later.
Kim Jongin: ok. Library at 8?
An hour later, Kyungsoo wanders into the library, coffee in hand as usual. He's ten minutes late, but that's better than usual, at least. Jongdae would be proud.
He heads through the maze of tables beside the shelves, searching for somebody who's "tall and looks like a dancer," as per Chanyeol's description, and finds no one. He sends Jongin a quick where r u and watches the room for people on their phones - not helpful. But a couple of tables to his left, a mess of brown hair jolts up from the desk and the boy there shakes himself awake, rubbing his eyes as he checks his phone. He looks up and around him, like he's scanning the room for something, and he stops on Kyungsoo, looks down at Kyungsoo's phone and back at his own, then gives a small, slow wave. Found him.
"Hi," Jongin says when Kyungsoo approaches. He bites his lip and looks away for a second, then looks back up. "Um. You're late."
"Yeah, sorry," says Kyungsoo, settling down in the chair across from him. "So. Any ideas?"
"Please don't be late again," Jongin says, not looking at him. He pulls out a binder, highlighters, and a pen. "I'm on a tight schedule."
"Yeah, yeah," Kyungsoo says. "One-time thing. Sorry."
Jongin doesn't look at him much while they work and discuss their ideas, eyes fixed on the paper he's taking notes on, and he doesn't even attempt small talk or ask Kyungsoo anything about himself. He's shy, but friendly, Chanyeol had told him earlier, when Kyungsoo had called just to make sure he wasn't paired with a psychopath. This doesn't seem like the same Kim Jongin Chanyeol knows at all.
"I have to go," Jongin says, getting up as soon as it's eleven-thirty. He's still not looking at Kyungsoo, face closed off. "I have to get lunch and go to class. Text me so we can meet up later this week--and don't be late."
He's gone before Kyungsoo can even think to say "goodbye." Kyungsoo lets out a huff and gathers his things up as well, texting Jongdae to ask where they're going for lunch on his way out.
Kyungsoo is late every single time after that; Jongin never says much about it, just continues to be terse and cold, as always. They've got plenty of time before the project's due--in a little under two months--and there are better things to do, as in sleeping. Sometimes, during their work sessions, now at one of the dance practice rooms, Kyungsoo actually works a bit on the piece he's composing for Jongin to dance to, but mostly he just naps, or watches Jongin dance to whatever there is so far. But progress on the piece is stagnant, for the most part, and Kyungsoo watches Jongin dance to the same thirty seconds of the piece about a hundred times before suddenly, at their sixth meeting, he stops.
"Listen," Jongin says, still breathing hard. "I was being nice because you're Chanyeol's friend. But you're not even trying."
"Didn't Chanyeol tell you?" Kyungsoo says. "That's what I do. I don't try."
"Why?" Jongin's voice rises to a half-shout, and the tips of his ears are beginning to turn red. This is more emotion than Jongin has shown in the last few weeks combined. "Why don't you try?"
"That's not your problem," Kyungsoo says, shutting his laptop and gathering his things. It's almost time for lunch anyway. "It doesn't matter. It'll get done. It always does."
He's halfway to the door when he hears a loud sigh, and then, quieter: "It's all that matters."
Kyungsoo tightens his grip on the strap of his backpack and makes sure to slam the door extra hard on his way out.
♫
It's nearly midnight when Kyungsoo finally brings himself to open his backpack and start homework. These nights always remind him of high school, when he used to stay up all night just to ensure an A on the next test, or to take extra notes so he wouldn't miss a single question on the next quiz. The memories still make him shudder. There are too many things from high school that Kyungsoo doesn't want to remember.
Still, he falls into a rhythm, gets used to the sound of pencil scratching paper and the hum of the air conditioner by the door, working until his eyelids feel heavy from exhaustion for the first time in a while and he wants nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep. There's just one assignment left: composition. He rifles through his backpack, searching for the handwritten scores, but it's not there. Even when he goes through it again, and then through his desk, and all of his neatly-arranged folders (a force of habit), they aren't there.
The last time he'd had them out was… the dance studio. He'd left pretty quickly--maybe the papers are still there. For a moment, he contemplates just leaving it and sleeping instead, but this is the last assignment of this kind for a while, and Kyungsoo should probably at least try to get on his teacher's good side for once. Besides, the studios are usually open all night.
It's a ten-minute walk through dimly-lit pathways to the dance building, silent until he gets a little closer to the open back door and hears a strain of music coming through, hard to make out through the open air, but undoubtedly there. Kyungsoo follows the light coming through to the room he and Jongin usually meet in down the hall, filtering out through the tiny window on the door. Jongin is inside, dancing to something with a strong beat, like the music Chanyeol likes to compose; in the corner, Kyungsoo spots a few sheets of paper lying on their own, forgotten. The scores.
He almost goes in, almost, but as he reaches for the doorknob, something about the way Jongin moves catches his eye--he's graceful, even as he moves sharply to each beat and the tempo increases, gradual, but enough to make Kyungsoo's own heart rate speed up a bit. His movements speed up as the music crescendos and, in the blink of an eye, Jongin crumples to the floor mid-turn and stays like that, chest heaving, staring up at the ceiling with eyes so shiny that Kyungsoo's not sure whether the water trickling down Jongin's temples are sweat or tears, or both. The music keeps running, bouncing off the walls, and Kyungsoo almost moves push the door open and to shut it off when Jongin's expression hardens and he lifts himself up off the floor, stares into his own eyes in the mirror for a few beats and then slips back into his choreography like he never stopped.
The music is still going when Kyungsoo leaves, empty-handed. He'll come back when he meets with Jongin tomorrow, he decides. It's too late to be doing homework anyway.
♫
When Kyungsoo stumbles into the practice room the next morning, still struggling to keep his eyes open, Jongin is asleep, snoring softly, head pillowed on a wadded-up jacket on the floor. He's still in the clothes Kyungsoo saw him wearing yesterday, and from the clutter left all around the room, he probably never left. Kyungsoo settles down in the opposite corner with the composition homework he'd left here before and gets to work.
It's not very interesting--basic stuff and tedious analysis questions, mostly--and Kyungsoo finds himself glancing up often, sometimes getting sidetracked just watching Jongin's chest rise and fall. In sleep, he looks a lot less severe than he does when he's with Kyungsoo; his mouth isn't set in a thin line like usual, and every now and then he smiles a little and mumbles something in his sleep. Cute. Or, maybe, it would be cute if it weren't for the fact that Jongin is the embodiment of everything Kyungsoo wanted to be.
"I couldn't sleep last night because of you," Kyungsoo finds himself saying, but he's not sure whether it's to Jongin's sleeping form or himself. He watches his own reflection move in the mirror across from him. "I guess you just reminded me. Of high school. I was just like you. Can you believe it?" He laughs. It feels forced. "Yeah. I didn't dance or anything, but I wanted so badly to get into a good college somewhere. Every failing grade was like a death sentence or something. I always thought I'd do better if I studied harder, which I did, I guess, but it never felt like enough. I'd talk to my college counselor and she'd pretend to be hopeful, but I think in the end we both knew my dream school wasn't even an option. My parents thought I was stupid, my friends probably all pitied me--I guess, in the end, I just never felt like anything I did was enough. I got in here, which isn't too bad, because at least the arts programs here are pretty great and I have some friends here too, but. I guess by the end of it I just felt like, since I didn't get into my dream school, or get to be valedictorian, or do anything at all significant--why even try? What's the point, when all I'll ever do is fail? All that wasted effort doesn't even matter, in the end."
"Don't think like that," says Jongin, and immediately Kyungsoo's eyes snap over to him. He's sitting up, watching Kyungsoo, eyes curious. Shit.
"How--how long have you been listening?" Kyungsoo asks. He can feel his face heating up already.
"A while," Jongin says. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just woke up, and you were talking, and. I listened."
Kyungsoo almost snaps at him, almost. Instead, he buries his head in his arms, folded atop knees pulled to his chest, and when he finally looks up, he says, "It wasn't your fault. Don't be sorry."
"Just, I--I know it was kinda personal, so--"
"I wouldn't have said it in front of you if I didn't want you to hear it."
Jongin's mouth is open to say something else, but at that, he freezes. Kyungsoo can't move either.
"Oh," Jongin says finally.
Kyungsoo stares at the floor beside his shoes. "Yeah, anyway. I'm. Gonna leave now."
He's only just begun packing his things when Jongin speaks up again. "You can't just give up."
"I'm not giving up," Kyungsoo says. "I'm uncomfortable, so I'm leaving."
"That's not what I mean. I mean everything else you do--skipping homework; never trying your hardest at anything, from what I've seen; showing up late all the time even though I can tell it bothers you; all of it. None of that is going to get you anywhere. When you fail, you don't give up--don't you know that? When you fail, you try and try and try and you keep trying until you don't fail anymore. That's what they teach you here. You can't always pretend like there's no point in anything!" Jongin's voice has been rising, getting steadily louder as he goes on; the look in his eyes pins Kyungsoo in place as soon as he manages to look up. After a moment, Jongin looks away and adds, quieter, "I know it's not my place to tell you any of this. But I'm getting a little--no, a lot--sick of this. Think of it this way, maybe. If nothing you do matters, why do anything at all?"
This time, it's Jongin who gets up to leave, not bothering to clean the practice room or zip his bag shut like he always does so carefully; this time, it's Jongin whose walk is brisk and too loud on his way to the door, and it's Jongin who slams it shut.
Kyungsoo stays where he is for a while after that, papers and empty water bottles scattered all around him. He sits, and he thinks about it. If nothing you do matters, why do anything at all?
Four days later, Kyungsoo shows up to the practice room as planned, laptop and binder heavy in his backpack like always. Jongin looks at him from behind his laptop screen, starts to smile, and then quickly looks away. Kyungsoo sets his things down in answer.
They work in silence for a while; Kyungsoo doesn't bother breaking the silence to ask why Jongin isn't dancing today. Instead, he works and pretends not to notice the discomfort in the air until he's pressed Ctrl-S, listened to the song one last time, and turned his laptop to face Jongin.
"It's done."
Jongin jumps, turning to face him, eyebrows creased. "What's done?"
"The song," Kyungsoo says. "For the project. It's done."
It takes a few moments of Jongin staring at him, eyes wide, for him to get a response. "What-- really? How? Last week you only had--"
"Thirty seconds, I know. But I work quickly when I want to."
Jongin spends another ten seconds studying Kyungsoo's face, like he's searching for something that's changed. Kyungsoo lets him--he'd done the same in the bathroom this morning. Jongin smiles. "So you were listening."
"I'm not admitting to anything," Kyungsoo says, but he allows himself a small smile. Jongin plugs his earbuds into Kyungsoo's laptop, only grinning wider as he presses play.
"So?" Kyungsoo says when it's over, resisting the urge to bite his lip. "What'd you think?"
"I think," says Jongin, words slow, drawn-out, eyes trained on a spot to the right, on the mirror. "I think I know exactly what I'm gonna do."
♫
"Stop being so nervous," Jongin says. He's stretching outside the classroom, running through some of the choreography as Kyungsoo tries to warm up without choking up beside him. "We've practiced this. So many times. You'll be fine."
"What if I forget my parts? I always do," Kyungsoo moans, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to mess up. We're going to get a zero. We're going to fail our classes and it will be all my fault."
"You'll be fine," Jongin says again, and moves to stand in front of Kyungsoo, both hands on his shoulders so Kyungsoo's facing him. "You'll be fine."
"Yeah?" Kyungsoo says, meeting Jongin's eyes.
"Yeah," Jongin says. Before Kyungsoo can say anything else, Jongin leans in and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. "For luck," he explains, grinning. "Now there's no way you'll mess up."
Kyungsoo's pretty sure he's turned bright red, from the way his face is heating up right now. There's no hiding the smile on his face, though, even when Jongdae pokes his head out the door and says it's their turn, wiggling his eyebrows at Kyungsoo and winking before he goes back in. "You--we--um. Let's?"
"We can talk about it later," Jongin says, taking Kyungsoo's hand to pull him inside. "We have a song to perform."
In between lunch meetings and (mostly disastrous) nights out, Kyungsoo and Jongin have put together a performance that even Baekhyun calls "pretty damn great." The song starts out slow, heavy drum beats permeating the silence, and as Kyungsoo comes in with his part, ad-libs and lyrics he and Jongin had written together last week, Jongin emerges from the projector screen, a makeshift curtain. He catches Kyungsoo's eye and flashes him a grin mid-spin, and Kyungsoo almost misses his next cue to chime in again, stumbling a little over the words this time instead. Jongin's clearly trying not to laugh for the next few beats, but the pace of the song picks up a little and he and Kyungsoo both school their expressions into much calmer ones. When Kyungsoo takes a moment to glance at their audience, Jongdae's laughing into his palms in the back. Of course he is.
Jongin slips a reassuring hand through Kyungsoo's when they bow at the very end, and when he relaxes Kyungsoo realizes he's been shaking this whole time. He's never managed to get through a performance without forgetting anything before, and this time--it's so different. The thought only makes him smile wider.
"Missing lunch with us again?" Jongdae says at the end of class. It's not really a question.
"Yeah, sorry," Kyungsoo says, glancing over at Jongin, whose arm is linked through his. "But I think I have a date."