Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Don't you find it weird?"

Kyungsoo lifted his gaze from his food, meeting the eyes of the man beside him. They perched on stools in their cherished diner, nibbling on shared fries, the evening sinking into night around them. The door chimed as a few people entered, voices blending into the restaurant's cacophony.

Some familiar faces grazed his awareness, yet no acknowledgment passed between them. Kyungsoo frequented this spot, so the lack of formalities were expected. Still, he kind of wished that his old school mates would send him a wave or something. The ambiance was typical for such a night, but there was an unsettling edge to the music over the speakers.

Chanyeol blinked, idly swirling his chocolate milkshake with a bendy straw. "You hear me?"

Kyungsoo shook his head. The taller boy was always talking. "No, my mind was elsewhere."

"I was saying, isn't it strange?"

"What's strange?"

"That we've spent our entire lives here, yet there's never a new face in this place?"

"A new face?"

A chuckle escaped him, "Have you never noticed? Only regulars dine here."

Kyungsoo turned to scan the patrons, but refrained, shrugging instead. It was more fulfilling to study the two cherries atop his shake. Baekhyun's mom always gave him an extra one.

Chanyeol continued, "Are we among the regulars?"

"The owners are Baek's parents, so we are regulars. We've been here ever since they opened the place." Kyungsoo replied. "What's wrong with that?"

"It's not bad. It's just a realization that strikes you at twenty-one, making you aware that you've sat at this counter since infancy."

"You're feeling existential again." It was more commonplace now, entering adulthood with questions and a hint of fear. He'd never say that to Chanyeol though, considering that the fear was with him as well, tucked in his pocket or at the end of a off-brand cigarette.

"Let's leave. I already paid." Chanyeol hopped off the stool, taking some whipped cream with him.

Kyungsoo followed him out, the night alive with the gentle drizzle making the world shimmer as the streetlights flickered. They casted golden hues overhead as they walked to the latter's cream-colored Volvo, a vintage dream in the dim light. 

Chanyeol had diligently amassed his earnings from part-time jobs during high school, all in pursuit of buying the thing. When he, accompanied by Kyungsoo, arrived at the rundown lot filled with old vehicles, the man inside the warehouse offered him a reduced price for an aging Volvo. SCAM was written all over the exchange, but Chanyeol denied it, waving his wad of cash around like he was begging to be robbed.

Kyungsoo always thought the car was a piece of junk, but he loved it all the same. It was like a time-machine. It held all the memories of adolescence inside the fabric of the seats and the old photos hiding in the center console. There were photobooth strips of the boys, smiling and toppling over one another, where usually he would be forced to sit on someone's lap, Jongin's lap, when the boy was there and not glued over a piano.

They slid into the vehicle, and Chanyeol immediately adjusted the heat, his head nearly touching the roof of the car. "It's getting pretty cold, huh?"

Kyungsoo nodded, his eyes lingering on the warm glow of the diner in the distance. He raised his fingers to the vent. "Are you taking me home?"

"Do you have work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sadly. I told my dad I'd come in early to help open," Kyungsoo said. "It's late."

"Can I show you somethin' first?"

"Is it gonna take long?"

"Maybe."

The car rumbled to life, pulling away from the neon lights. Kyungsoo glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Tonight felt different from their usual diner trips or late arcade visits. The anticipation added a touch of excitement to the twilight, breaking up the monotony of his hometown blues. His friend's bleak demanor was replaced with a secrative happiness when he had a plan. He prefered it that way.

Streetlights painted the world gold as they merged onto the main road. Kyungsoo wondered where all the others were tonight, as Chanyeol peeked down through his dark bangs. "Aren't you curious about where we're going?"

"I thought you'd get to that point eventually."

"You could at least act excited," The taller teased, a grin playing on his lips, his face illuminated by the brake lights ahead. "I have a new view spot. Different from the hilltop one."

"This better not be a whole town over like last time."

"It's close, I promise. I totally found upon this cool place hidden on Main Street."

"It's kind of impossible for anything to be hidden on Main Street."

"You just have to know what to look for."

"You must look pretty hard, huh?"

"I find all the superior drinking spots, don't I?"

Kyungsoo scoffed as a pair of brake lights cast a red hue over them, "Yeah, all the spots we've been caught at have been ones you find."

"Not this one." Chanyeol shook his head with a chuckle, his expression turning pensive.

The night was always vast and impenetrable, broken only by the occasional flicker of a distant farmhouse lantern or lit-up billboard. The air smelled of earth and rain, the scent of petrichor mingling with the faint aroma of Chanyeol's signature cologne. Kyungsoo felt them collide with an infamous pot-hole; The one that had never been fixed since he was a kid. It was an obsidian night, with the slight blur of an impending fog.

Kyungsoo noticed the darkness tug at his wakefulness as he tried not to think about work, and how he'd be holed up in the kitchen all day. Like usual.

The old car emitted a familiar beat-up sound, a rhythmic melody that signified the obvious lack of maintenence, despite the fact that Chanyeol claimed it was his baby and he'd pay any amount to keep the engine running. It was a common joke between them, and something Kyungsoo always brought up when the other would drop his paycheck on everything else BUT a tune up. 

"Hey, choose a CD," Chanyeol suddenly requested, his eyes on the road.

Reaching beneath his seat, Kyungsoo pulled out a weathered case, its edges frayed with time. He began to flip through the discs, each one holding scenes of late-night drives and shared laughter. As he browsed, he wondered if there were any Nirvana songs that he didn't know. He was sure the other boy had drilled those albums into his impressionable mind over a thousand times.

His parents probably hated how angsty it made him in his younger years. They always thought Chanyeol was too much of an artist, and not enough like his father, a businessman.

"How about this one?" Kyungsoo held up a scratched disc labeled in faded marker, settling on nostalgia. Chanyeol grinned, his large eyes widening immediately, and with practiced ease, he swapped the current CD in the player for the chosen one, and finally, the air was filled with something other than the sound of the car heading towards it's mechanical death.

Of course, the first song was a Nirvana song, Rotton Apple-to be exact. Kyungsoo audibly groaned and leaned his head back as the taller burst into laughter, "You thought you could escape? This band is forever!"

"I'm literally going to pick a different one now."

"No way, this one rocks. Keep it in."

"How do you have the most consistent music taste known to man?"

"Says you! Whenever we drive in your dad's car there's only acoustic bullshit and Diana Ross."

Kyungsoo made a face, "You literally know all the words to her songs."

"Because of you! How else?" Chanyeol's lips were curled into a stamped grin.

"Because you like her?"

"Kyungsoo, respectfully, I don't. You know this."

He did know that, he just didn't understand the point of being pretentious about music. It was an annoying trait that his friend grew into as he got older. Probably from frequenting the record stores in his free time, bringing Kyungsoo all these new bands and forcing the boy to listen to them as they sped around the neighborhoods or carried the radio around. 

Kyungsoo kept an open mind and let the taller boy blast his grungy teenage edge-lord music, so why couldn't Chanyeol offer him the same? So what if Kyungsoo liked cheesy ballads and pop? Jongin never judged him for his music taste, in fact, they both knew the words to every sappy romance song from the last decade.

With an exaggerated slump of his shoulders and a sigh, he stared out of the window into the blackness, "Fine. There better be some good ones on here."

"Always are." Chanyeol added with another smirk, then he pointed into the windshield ahead, "I think they're building something up here. I can't tell what it's gonna be yet. Probably more corny shit since it brings in so much money, huh?"

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"I hope it's a bowling alley."

"Another one? What would we do with another one?"

"Bowl more? I don't know." Chanyeol said.

The fleeting image of bustling downtown, with its signs flickering in the night, contrasted sharply with the quiet rural roads surrounding it. In the heart of the night, he found himself contemplating the delicate balance between these two worlds, between the responsibilities waiting for him at dawn and the freedom he felt beneath the starlit sky. He was positive that Chanyeol kept driving late into the night to keep the facade of freedom just over the horizon.

Nestled against the embrace of the eastern ocean, their town stood as a modest whisper on the map of the world. Unassuming and unpretentious, it was the sort of place that might fade into obscurity on a map, unnoticed, were it not for the surge of Western tourists that washed ashore a decade ago. Since then, it had undergone a transformation, morphing into a vibrant nucleus that embraced the nostalgic enchantment of old American cinema and the timeless allure of classic hamburger joints.

Kyungsoo, in his quiet introspection, did not harbor much resistance to this change. After all, it was the very thread in which his childhood memories were embroidered, a familiar aesthetic to which he and his friends had grown accustomed. And yet, beneath his acceptance, a subtle disquiet stirred within him. In the midst of neon lights and bustling tourists, he sensed a unique subculture quietly blooming, its secrets known only to a select few, veiled in the mystique of their unassuming village by the ocean's edge.

His style developed into a peculiar crossbreed of leather jackets and hair-gel, with the occasional hand-me-downs that his father would leave for him at the doorstep of his apartment. His jeans were always a little too big, but it was nothing a belt wouldn't fix, even if the boys teased him.

Chanyeol, on the other hand, became a man who spared no expense on band tees and Reeboks. With them together, they looked straight out of the greaser film that they stole from the video store. In their little world, normalcy resided in the old world romanticism.

It was a familiar pattern – the allure of staying up late, only to awaken with remorse as the unforgiving daylight heralded the start of another demanding day. At the core of this routine was his family's noodle shop, a traditional establishment situated in the outskirts by the water. It was more than just a place of business; it was a domestic legacy his parents aspired to pass down to him.

 Among the loyal customers, were his close friends, who frequented the establishment not just for the discounts but also for the fact that Kyungsoo practically lived in the kitchen. There wasn't much to do besides make money and bleed the place dry, and Kyungsoo's goal was just that: make money and bleed the place dry.

He didn't know when he began to think bitter thoughts--maybe after his last break up. She had gotten away from the hometown curse and made it big in Seoul, leaving him to rot away with his friends, that never seemed to realize they could do the same. Logically, he knew it wasn't her fault. None of it was. Kyungsoo's mind was just too occupied with running a business to sort out any feelings that mattered.

It was a lot easier to be hedonistic to face anything real, in his opinion.

Maybe that's why Chanyeol kept driving, Kyungsoo thought to himself, his mind reflective when the acres of land became just shadow. Maybe it was the only way anything felt exciting. He wasn't sure of the last time he felt like anything was new, it was more like the same picture with different filters over the lens every day. It could explain why his impulses had become insatiable, and he found himself hungover more often than not.

It wasn't long before the moonlit roadway turned into pavement, and streetlamps ebbed back into view to give an overhead view of the bars and restaraunts. It was like an illuminated archway that led them straight into a paint stroke that didn't quite match the rest of the painting. 

It was one of the only corners of the town that had any night life at all, so Kyungsoo knew it like the back of his hand on nights where insomnia called his name. Sometimes he'd wander around and buy some street food and stare out into the water, as the signs left little star drops in the rolling waves, he would be thankful that at least it wasn't dark.

"Here." Chanyeol parked on an incline, behind one of the establishments. It smelled like salty food. As they exited the car, voices carried themselves on the chilled breeze.

He zipped up his jacket, happy that it turned into a hide turtleneck, "It's busy tonight. Where is this secret spot, Chanyeollie?"

"It's back here in this alley, follow me."

"It's creepy in there."

"I know, but it's part of why it's a secret. No one else walks down here since it's where the storage units are for the businesses."

"That's...somehow worse."

Chanyeol laughed and Kyungsoo saw his breath, "I'll protect you. I'm as tall as any of these drunk Americans. They won't mess with us."

"I know you don't know how to fight."

"Yeah, but you do. You took Jiu Jitsu."

"For like two years." Kyungsoo scoffed, "Are you going to hide behind me then?"

"Yes."

In the dim alley's obscure embrace, Chanyeol guided Kyungsoo toward a concealed ladder, shrouded behind a dumpster. Hesitant, Kyungsoo ascended first, his heart racing with the fear of being caught, or possibly falling and breaking Chanyeol's neck. As if on cue, Chanyeol's near-tumble defied the abyss below, sparking nervous laughter that reverberated against the grimy walls.

Upon the rooftop, their laughter lingered, mingling with the night's breath. Under the ethereal glow of the moon, they stood witness to the vast expanse of the ocean and the infinite horizon. The entirety of the scene, a dualistic beauty of darkness and shimmering waves, overwhelmed him. Kyungsoo buried himself in his jacket as the wind caressed him with cold hands. He didn't bother to appear stoic as the cold left a sting over his skin.

It was the ocean he had seen a hundred times, but it was the only thing left that he could bare to look at. It made him feel like he could run across it and leave the monotony behind.

"What do you think? You can see so far, huh? Isn't it awesome?" Chanyeol began, the white of his teeth visible from the gleaming below.

"Wow."

"I know right?"

Chaneyol rocked on his heels as another gust of wind washed over them, his black bangs flew off of his face and his dark eyes reflected the moon. Kyungsoo swore the other's teeth were chattering. He then spun to nudge at Kyungsoo's arm, "If you squint you can see some boats out there, too. You see? Remember when my old co-worker let us ride his?"

There was a twinkle in the distance, like a speck of white over a black canvas. Kyungsoo was glad that he didn't forget his glasses and smiled, his cheeks were numb from the cold, "It's really something. Good spot."

"It was only a ladder away."

"Let's hope no one takes it, then."

"Wouldn't be the worst place to be stranded on a roof. It's beautiful."

"It would be the worst because we'd easily freeze to death after an hour."

"Freeze to death with a killer view!"

Kyungsoo scoffed, "It really is a great view. I honestly think I would enjoy it much more if...I was a bit warmer, though."

He was suddenly poked with something dense, and he turned to see Chanyeol holding a can out to him. It was a beer. He shook his head in disbelief and grabbed it with his jacket sleeve over his hand. He assumed Chanyeol must have endless storage in his varsity jacket to hide two entire tall-cans in there.

"That will help your complaining." The taller hummed after the silence added an emphasis.

"These from your dad's stash? Even though you could have just bought some instead of being a cheapskate?"

"Duh." The taller cracked the can and let it foam over, shaking it off over the side of the building. Kyungsoo chuckled thinking about the tourists below being sprinkled with a mysterious foam. It was a juvenile moment of humour, the kind of merriment that erupted out of him in embarassing stride. The taller was the same as when they were kids, through and through.

They huddled over the poorly fenced edge of the building, their feet dangling over lanterns and movement as the world around them closed in, navy blue and effulgent. Chanyeol opened his beer for him and let it drip over his knuckles, the same hand he was using to keep his coat from flying open. 

As a few drunk voices echoed from beneath them, Chanyeol nudged him again after a second, "Baekhyun is meeting us."

"Here? Right now?"

"Yep. He asked me what I was up to and I told him to meet us on Main Street. He knows where I mean."

"You showed him this place too?"

"He actually showed me. I just wanted to take the credit."

"Fair enough." Kyungsoo sipped at his can, the taste making his lips grimace involuntarily. He was never a fan of beer, but his father always told him he'd develop an appetite for it over time. He wasn't so sure of that. He shuddered, "Is he nearby? Or do we have to wait five hours for him to pretty himself up like usual?"

"He's nearby. He was at a restaurant down the street actually, apparently for his church group or something."

"A church dinner, huh? Jongin's probably there."

"That's what I'm thinking too."

Kyungsoo watched as Chanyeol's gaze flickered back over the vista, barely visible, and he was struck with a sudden thought that maybe it wouldn't be too bad to be stuck up here. He wanted to keep the night going as long as possible, before he had to see Jongin and behold the man's endless staring. He blamed the beer for the way his mind was racing, and it was Chanyeol's fault for dragging him along.

 "I hope to god he's got a blanket in his car. Fingers crossed he's got something." The taller whined.

"Hopefully, it's large enough for all of us."

"Nah, you'll be left in the cold. Baek and I can huddle together."

Kyungsoo playfully aimed a kick at the boy's sneaker. "Shut up."

After what felt like an eternity, Baekhyun finally made his way up the ladder, bundled in a bulky peacoat and a beanie that concealed most of his features. Trailing behind him was Jongin, tall and tan, his height commanding attention once they were both standing next to eachother . Jongin wore a wide-brimmed Ushanka hat, casting intriguing shadows over his face, accentuating his prominent lips. Baekhyun's eyes sparkled with a typical excitement as he greeted them.

"Hey guys. I brought somebody special," Baekhyun said, his breath visible, "So I hope you have extra beers."

Kyungsoo nodded a polite greeting, his eyes scanning with curiosity as he observed the men before him. He wasn't expecting Baekhyun to bring the other, but he should have assumed since they've been a part of the same prayer group forever. For some odd reason, he felt colder.  Chanyeol, motioning for them to come close to sit, beamed like a star, "We were just admiring the view. Care to join us, ladies?"

Jongin's narrow eyes crinkled at the corners as he nodded. "Thanks."

"You have anything to shield us from the wind up here?"

"To be honest I forgot all my winter stuff at home. I guess we will have to freeze to death. Sorry guys." Baekhyun said. The two of them gathered closer to the edge, hunched against the biting wind as they sat to face out into the vast expanse of the ocean. The sound of waves crashing against the shore drowned out the people for a quick speck of time.

Kyungsoo couldn't help but find his gaze drawn toward Jongin as they settled down on the rooftop, their positions naturally placing them at a slight distance. He observed Jongin discreetly, studying the subtle nuances of his expressions and the way his cheekbones jutted out against the muted light. The taller had placed himself on the opposite end, clinging to Baekhyun for support as he sat.

In the dim light, he looked older. They all did, he presumed, since they've gotten rounder in some places and angular in others. Baekhyun and Chanyeol still had the round chins of two cupids, while Jongin grew into the sharpness of his bone structure. Kyungsoo was jealous.

"So, Jongin, you gonna actually tonight? Or be a wimp?" Chanyeol inquired, his tone casual. 

"Depends what you have," Jongin replied as he dusted off his pants. "I kinda feel bad ditching the rest of the church group to drink on some random roof, though."

Baekhyun chimed in with a mischievous grin, "You say that every time we do anything fun, but you come along without fail. You secretly love it."

Chanyeol joined in, his laughter carrying on the wind, "Honestly, I think Jongin just wants to seem more mature than us."

Jongin offered a sheepish smile that made his eyes moon up, "I am mature."

"You cry every other week, dude."

"Nah, he's just scared of his parents finding out that he drinks in public with a bunch of deliquents. Their pianist prodigy son is nothing more than an angel in their eyes. You should cheer up Jongin, we've got some extra warmth-" Baekhyun gestured towards the taller's bulging coat, "Chanyeol came prepared with the cheapest beer known to man."

The taller then reached into his seemingly bottomless varsity jacket and pulled out two more beers, handing one to Jongin and another to Baekhyun with a sly grin. "Fresh from the hidden stash," he declared, his eyes alight with mischief. It was always the case when him and Baekhyun got together.

"Wow, Chanyeol, should I be worried you've got a whole bar in there?"

"To be honest, it was heavy as hell. That's why I almost fell off the ladder earlier."

Jongin, seeming a little uncertain, hesitated before asking, "Will your dad notice?"

Chanyeol, always quick with a dumb comeback, grinned, "Of course not. He never does. Don't worry, I'm legal age anyway so what can he do?"

"Arrest you for stealing."

"If I'm going to jail, so are you guys. You all partake in my stolen goods."

Jongin's expression softened with an eye roll, and he offered a small smile, dimpled and subdued. He carefully opened the beer, his movements cautious yet deliberate, as if trying to blend in while still feeling a bit out of place. 

In the midst of the rolling waves, Kyungsoo's soft voice cut through the night air like a gentle breeze. "You don't have to drink if you don't want to."

"It's okay," he replied, his tone nonchalant, but he leaned slightly to get a better look at Kyungsoo. There was a subtle distance in his gaze, a faint aversion that Kyungsoo couldn't help but notice, making him feel unexpectedly self-conscious. He was used to Jongin sitting next to him.

His eyes held reservation, and his movements carried a subtle grace that drew Kyungsoo's attention despite himself. It was a clash of worlds, a collision of contrasting realities that hung in the air, unspoken yet palpable, as he curled into himself and vowed silence. Before he could ask himself why he was monitoring the other so much, he looked away.

 "And how was the church dinner?"  Chanyeol inquired and broke his train of thoughts.

"We indulged ourselves. Although, I couldn't help but wish we had chosen Kyungsoo's parents' shop instead."

Kyungsoo shook his head and drank, "I don't know how you're not sick of that place."

"How could I be sick of discounted food?"

"Because you eat it every day?"

"Cheap, good food is a priviledge." Baekhyun's lips curled over his beer.

"Just come tomorrow." Kyungsoo giggled, "I work next morning. I can sneak you some dumplings."

"Of course you work tomorrow."

"Uh, yeah. It's called a job. You work at your family's restaraunt too."

"But it's legit the only thing you do. Work." Baekhyun remarked with a guffaw. Kyungsoo, unable to retaliate, merely smiled, accepting the jest with nothing but more beer in his system. In all honesty, it was making him fuzzy. He tried not to feel like the other's words were a jab to something deeper.

"Not to defend Kyungsoo in any means, but he's richer than all of us." Chanyeol perked up.

"He's exploited for his labor, so yeah, he's richer."

"Exploited?" Kyungsoo coughed on some of the beer foam, sputtering into a laugh of disbelief.

"Your parents practically have you running the place! You can't sit there and deny that you have money stored from when you were about sixteen. They had you on the front lines of retail since you could count."

"Sounds like you're jealous that I have so much in my savings."

"You don't even know what to do with all your money, Soo." In the obscurity, Kyungsoo discerned Baekhyun's subtle negative gesture. It turned into another abrupt smile, "I feel like you're gonna hoard it all until you're an old man. Maybe you'll buy a beach house and sit on your porch all day, knitting or something."

"What's wrong with wanting to grow old in a beach house?"

"Oh, come on, Baekhyun. Who doesn't enjoy being a wage slave? I sure do." The tallest clanked his can with Baekhyun's, ignoring the glare from Kyungsoo's end.

 "What else is there to do in this place." he said, wrestling with the ambiguity of leisure, uncertain about its purpose. The prospect of unguarded moments sent shivers down his spine; solitude often acted as a mirror, reflecting thoughts he preferred to keep submerged. Perhaps, in the intricacy of his mind, he was indeed ensnared by the chains of workaholic musings, unable to decipher the enigma of unstructured time. He despised that the other boy got under his skin.

A series of chuckles echoed through the twilight, and in that moment, the dynamics shifted into what they'd always been. Baekhyun was the one holding the knowledge, leaving Kyungsoo in a state of hopeful curiosity, yearning to grasp what his friend effortlessly comprehended. 

When Kyungsoo hung out with Chanyeol, he liked that the latter wasn't always trying to figure him out, he only wanted to make the smaller laugh. It was a relief, to a degree.

Jongin was always the longing bystander, and the one who would pat Kyungsoo on the back and say, "He's just a know-it-all."

"I'd love a beach house." Jongin muttered, his confession stolen by the group chuckling at his immediate defense. It was as though Kyungsoo could predict when the other boy would tap into the conversation and come to his aid.

"Would you want a view like this?" Baekhyun directed his question to his right, finally diverted from his usual victim.

"Of course. I love watching the water, but I prefer to have my windows face trees or plants. I kinda want both." The pianist said.

"I need a view. I couldn't have my house face the woods or endless farmland."

"Sometimes views make me lonely." 

Grateful for the shift in topic, Kyungsoo quirked his lips in alert, "Me too. I like plants."

"You always say how you hate that our apartment faces the neighbors bushes, though." Chanyeol retorted and poked the side of Kyungsoo's cheek.

"That's different. I still prefer privacy."

"So you wouldn't care if they were your own bushes?"

He rolled his eyes, "If that's how you wanna interpret it."

"I'll plant some bushes for you, If that'll give you the home of your dreams."

"It would be the home of my dreams if I didn't live with you and Jongdae." Kyungsoo argued, but Chanyeol burst out laughing, his amusement bursting like a firework on the backdrop of night life.

"I know what you meant." Jongin had reassured, a wasted kindness that was gone as quick as it came.

Once the laughter subsided, they delved into a competative game of who could see the furthest in the sillouetted horizon. Baekhyun, in his quest for perfection, claimed he could see an entire country away. With each attempt, Kyungsoo's energy wore thin, his irritation bubbling up, leading him to snap at Baekhyun and occasionally at Chanyeol, whose laughter seemed to replay in the back of his mind. It became more of a game to get tipsy and screech noise into the quiet than a game to I-spy, in the end.

By one o'clock, the entire crew found a satisfactory level of intoxication and goose-bumps. After a quick shot-gun, they all headed down the ladder, stumbling and giggling to themselves. Chanyeol almost fell again, causing the rest of them to cling to the bars and resist their own demise as they stifled their amusement.

When Kyungsoo hopped off the last step, Jongin caught him clumsily, knocking his Ushanka off center. Kyungsoo pressed his coat down flat and reached up to fix it over his bangs. It was a reflex between them, the compulsion to wipe a crumb or tuck a piece of hair. Jongin was so used to it, he didn't bat an eye.

There were a few strangers walking to the parking lot beside them, and Kyungsoo was overly aware of the fact that Baekhyun and Chanyeol were shouting and giggling manaically. He swore one of them yelled a profanity. It echoed.

Jongin stuck by him, his nose rosy and teeth on display as they followed behind the chaotic duo. "They're so embarassing sometimes." 

"It would be worse if Jondgae was here. He feeds into it."

"Where is Jongdae this time of night?"

"At home sleeping, probably. He's been going to bed earlier since he works at the crack of dawn."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot he got promoted."

In the near distance, Chanyeol tripped over Baekhyun's foot and screeched. Baekhyun doubled over in a fit of chortles.

"They're funny to watch. I'll give them that."

Kyungsoo then looked up at Jongin through his bangs, now swept by the tunneled breeze, "You're driving Baekhyun, right? That boy cannot drive."

"Yeah, he's a light weight. I'm driving. How many did you drink?"

"Three. But Chanyeol drank like, four, so I'm driving. I feel alright."

"Kyungsoo." Jongin warned gently, his eyebrows pushed together under the fur of his hat, "I can drive you guys home in Baekhyun's car. Chanyeol can pick his car up in the morning."

"It'll take more than three beers to send me over, I swear." Kyungsoo chuckled, "I need a car tomorrow for work."

"The road is so dark by your apartment. Take the main road, okay? Not the back way through the farmland. It's impossible to see."

"Jongin, we'll be fine. I promise."

Jongin stared at him for a moment, his expression etched with concern, before he let out a sigh and shrugged. Kyungsoo caught a glimpse of the boy's lips pressing together to keep himself from pushing further. He didn't like when Jongin looked like that, so he lowered his gaze, focusing on the boy's sneakers instead.

 Usually it was Kyungsoo doting and nagging the others, but there were moments that Jongin let his sentiment bleed through his knuckles, his lips pouting and eyes sparkling with concern. He'd tug Kyungsoo's side and whine just like when they were kids. Kyungsoo enjoyed the fact adulthood didn't steal too much of the other's childish tendencies. It was something he could frame and hang up in the back of his mind.

As they reached the lot, Jongin slung an arm around his shoulder, guiding him down from the curb toward Chanyeol's parked Volvo. To the right of it stood Baekhyun's car, adorned with an array of stickers from his past relationship with a Sanrio enthusiast. The streetlamp beams cast a noticeable glimmer, enhancing the scene with an extra touch of sprinkling moisture. It was so, so cold.

"Chanyeol." Kyungsoo called out to the taller boy, who spun around like a puppy hearing his name. He gestured at the car, "Your keys."

"Got it, boss-man." The tall figure rummaged in his seemingly bottomless pocket and tossed it over, the metallic items clinking together in his palm. Surprisingly, he seemed uninterested in engaging in the usual argument about his capacity to drink under the influence, a battle Kyungsoo believed was never truly won by anyone.

He dangled them up in front of Jongin's face in half-seriousness, "I'll drive under the speed-limit. It'll be the slowest, safest ride of Chanyeol's life. Trust me?"

"Fine, fine. I get it." The taller breathed a defeated chuckle and looked over Kyungsoo's side profile, "I trust you."

Without a word, Baekhyun stalked back to place his own keys in Jongin's hand, his features curved in a sloppy glee, "You don't even have to ask me, Jongin. You knew the drill before we even got here."

"Yep."

"Prepare to hear him sing in the car the whole time." Kyungsoo teased.

"He sings in the car even when he's sober."

"Atleast its something other than Nirvana."

Jongin finally removed his arm from Kyungsoo's back, the absence of warmth noticeable and he missed it briefly, "I don't know how Chanyeol listens to that sad stuff all the time and stays so happy."

"Can you guys move any slower?" Chanyeol bellowed from the passenger side of the car, tugging the handle in haste, "It's cold as fuck and you know my baby doesn't have a good heater, Kyungoo!"

With a click of the keys, the locks shifted and Chanyeol dove inside the car. Jongin burst into laughter, gusts of his breath like ghosts in the fractals of light. Kyungsoo wanted to join in, but instead he shivered and gave Jongin a pat, "You dropping him off and coming over after?"

Jongin's handsome face lowered into a contemplative look as his dimple made a show of itself, "You want me to?"

"See you soon, then." He sped up towards the Volvo, turning towards Baekhyun who was drawing a face on his windshield with the frost, "Call me when you're home, Baekhyunnie. Don't forget to pay Jongin back."

"Huh? For what?"

"Driving your ass everywhere. He got his license last month and you're really putting it to use more than anyone else."

Baekhyun opened the side door as Jongin unlocked it, a smirk on his wiry lips, "Well, he's using my car, besides-I think I remember him driving you home more than a few times, too."

"You get my point. Stop drinking." Kyungsoo slid into the driver's seat and shut the door, happy to muffle any remnants of giddiness that pursued from the other side. After a brief moment of rubbing his hands together as Chanyeol desperately turned the dials to high temp, he pulled out of the spot and onto the backroads, breaking his promise and letting the automobile's rumble lull him into disquiet.

When it wasn't Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, it was Baekhyun and Jongin. It was also Jongdae and Minseok. Occasionally Junmyeon and his boyfriend: Oh Sehun. There were a lot of them in that cramped apartment, which was several blocks from downtown and one long windy road through the fields.

It was an older complex that sat in brick and cobblestone, with veins of ivy up the side and over the wooden sills, yet the inside was carpeted with a retro textile and a nauseating amount of art deco. Kyungsoo's parents told him that the building existed before he was born, and was a historical relic for all the different trends in arcitecture.  The living room had a clash of wallpapers so intense that Kyungsoo got dizzy just staring at them too long. If the walls could talk, they'd probably be begging for some sanity.

Of course, Kyungsoo only had two official roomates: Chanyeol and Jongdae. They were the sole rent-payers and bedroom-owners, and they were the only ones that had any true obligation to clean after themsleves and not use all the toilet paper. Rent was cheap in the older buildings, and since Chaneyol's parents owned local real estate, it was a perk to be able to afford a multi-bedroom at their ages.

Chanyeol's room was like a mad scientist's laboratory met a rock star's backstage. Wires were tangled like an electrical modern art piece, and instruments littered the floor as if they'd had a wild party overnight.

When Chanyeol wasn't exploring and harassing Kyungsoo at work, he was holed up in his room on his blocky computer making graphic designs and music samples. Kyungsoo didn't mind, except when repetative sound bites would vibrate through the wall and startle him awake at three AM.

Jongdae's room, in stark contrast, was a haven of order amidst the artistic chaos. His walls were adorned with carefully framed artworks, creating a gallery-like ambiance. The cleanliness was almost clinical; every surface sparkled, and his perfectly organized art supplies were neatly arranged in labeled containers. It was the difference between an artist (Chanyeol) and a man who belonged in an office somewhere.

The rest of the boys dwelled under apartments of their own, Baekhyun and Jongin sharing a space across town. It was the size of a shoe box, and they spent most of their time taking advantage of Kyungsoo's television and pinball machine. He had only come over a handful of times since they bought the pile of bricks, but Jongin always convinced him to stay at his own place since Jongin claimed they had "mean neighbors" in comparison, but Kyungsoo assumed it was probably because he had a king sized bed that Jongin liked to hog.

Only Junmyeon and Sehun dared to venture into the city a ferry's passage away. Junmyeon, once a companion on the playground, had ascended the corporate ladder, a puppeteer of a grand CEO position. Meanwhile, Sehun seemed destined for perpetual affluence, a life already secured. It was what he always wanted. Together, they exited the small-town bubble, just like his ex-girlfriend, and went off to do bigger things.

Minseok, a colleague of Jongdae's, drifted into their days now that Junmyeon and Sehun were gone, lingering on Jongdae's off-hours, devouring their provisions and dragging along crates of Soju or wine. Kyungsoo, although mildly irritated by his intrusion, found his presence muted compared to the others. He lacked the boisterous aura, and thus, his existence settled into a mundane routine. Their shared upbringing might have been absent, yet there existed a peculiar comfort, enabling Kyungsoo to accept Minseok's presence, a familiarity in a world of shifting sands.

And then, of course, there was Jongin's consistency. That's where Kyungsoo's life got less mundane.

Their paths fatefully intertwined in the blossoming age of ten. The years spent within the confines of the same schools served as the crucible where their camaraderie was tempered, a silent understanding burgeoning between them amidst the clatter of textbooks and whispered secrets, brought together by the proximity of Chanyeol. Who was an extrovert, and addicted to collecting friends like baseball cards.

 Jongin, once apprehensive in the shadow of Kyungsoo's stare (he didn't have the right glasses prescription yet), grew soft. To Kyungsoo, Jongin's presence was not intimidating; but rather a muse, a study in beauty that fascinated him in a way where he looked up to the boy. Jongin wanted to be a preacher, and Kyungsoo noticed the long gold cross around his neck long before they were friends. It surprised him, a devotion so strong inside someone so little. To Kyungsoo, Jongin was too level-headed to rely on religion.

As Jongin ushered Baekhyun into the realm of the church choir and prayer, it became clearer that his level head came from the affirmations of God, and maybe the fear of always having the burden of a god-given talent. Since, when he wasn't living at the community church, he was finding his inner eden through piano and making his family proud. He would play for the choir and travel for gigs, taking the faint scent of city-living on his back when he would come home.

Amid the symbols of faith and fingers on ivory keys, Kyungsoo silently celebrated the person Jongin had become, despite the fact that he himself never really clung to a divinity the same way. It never bothered Jongin, the way the other boys remained agnostic or disinterested in spirtual guidance, and he never was forceful in his belief.

He never begged or asked why, he would merely nod his head and his eyes would dart back to whatever video game they were playing. Sometimes, he would leave sticky notes around the apartment with verses on them. 

Chanyeol would usually throw them away, but Jongdae never did, he told Kyungsoo that they were little kindnesses. Baekhyun told him that Jongin said his name in every morning prayer, which maybe was a kindness too. He wasn't sure. Either way, the boy was over almost every day, a chain gleaming under his shirt.

Kyungsoo arrived home before the other, pulling into the driveway and making his way to the apartment door with a contented sigh. He was relieved that he didn't have to trudge up icy stairs to reach the second floor. The departure of their upstairs neighbors a month ago had only added to the bliss; now, there were no concerns about noise complaints, despite the constant influx of all his loud ass friends.

Chanyeol followed him close in tow, shuddering loudly and kicking his shoes off into the darkness before Kyungsoo could turn on the light.

He shot Chanyeol a glare, "Please pick those up before one of us trips and dies."

The other rolled his eyes, but obliged, like usual.

As he unzipped his coat and tossed his keys into the bowl, Chanyeol took no time opening up the fridge and rummaging like a starved animal. He watched for a moment before asking, "You hungry?"

"I have tipsy hunger. I want junk food."

"We need to go shopping. I don't think we have anything good in there."

"Oh, shit." Chanyeol reached in the back of the shelf and pulled out a styrofoam box, cheeks pillowed in a satisfied smile, "Leftover rice cake. You spoke too soon. I'm gonna devour this before Jongin gets here."

"he's dropping Baekhyun off so you have time."

Chanyeol made a face, "Is Baekhyun fine without a car tonight?"

"Must be the case. They swap cars all the time, it's no big deal."

"That's true. I wonder why he didn't just come over with Jonginnie."

"Maybe it takes too long and he'd rather sleep early." Kyungsoo felt himself stifle a pang of defensiveness.

"Except Jongin drives here in five seconds."

He pondered if that was true, "Eat fast, then."

When Chanyeol opened the container, Kyungsoo vanished into his room.

After he shut the door, he shed the clothed layers from his skin as he changed into his pajamas. Wrapped in the cozy embrace of his warm attire, he settled down with a book, "The Catcher in the Rye," its pages transporting him back into teenage angst. He didn't read much, but it was a book that he had laying around from when his older brother donated his things a week ago when he moved into his new house. It had been some old hand-me-downs that would have merely ended up at a second hand shop. Maybe he was more of a sentimental man, rather than a book-worm, after all.

Fifteen minutes later a gentle knock resonated on his door, and Kyungsoo, roused from the verge of sleep, welcomed Jongin inside. He knew it was the latter, from the soft and resonating, "Kyungsoo." that sounded from behind the wood. He wondered if Chanyeol let him in, or Jongin was carrying his spare key.

"Was the drive alright?" Kyungsoo inquired as the taller boy shut the door behind him, his coat already hung up in the entry-way, no doubt.

"It was fine. He did sing though. A lot." Jongin stuck out his bottom lip and took his hat off, his hair disheveled in front of his eyes, "You lied to me."

"Huh?"

"You took the back way. You got home before me."

Jongin crawled into the bed as Kyungsoo cast his book aside with a scoff, "How did you notice something like that, Jonginnie?"

"I've only been your friend for years, asshole."

"I think you're just over here too much."

"Hm." Jongin pouted, "What are you reading?"

"Some book my brother gave me." Kyungsoo let the other burrow himself into his side, Jongin's head of hair tucked under his chin. The boy was warm, which was a welcoming sensation due to the fact that his building had a busted old heater.

"The Catcher in the Rye, Kyungsoo. I swear I've only seen you read two entire books in your lifetime. Are you trying to smarten up for someone?"

"It's a classic. There's a reason people read classics."

"What's the reason?"

Kyungsoo laughed to himself and felt Jongin smile against his shirt, "His search for something genuine, it's like he's trying to find his own place in this messed-up world. It's... hopeful, in a way."

"Hopeful? That's a new perspective, I suppose."

"Despite all his cynicism, keeps searching, keeps trying. That's hope to me."

"I love when you get delusional and cheesy. It's how I know you're sleep deprived. It was like when you watched that rom-com and gave me a whole seminar at three AM."  Jongin peered up at him through his lashes, teeth visible in a subtle smile.

"Shut up." Kyungsoo shook his head and let the fondness roll off, "It's the middle of the night. You seem just as delirious, if not more so."

The taller yawned, "Gloomy weather makes me sleepy. I was up there for my sermon and I could barely keep my own eyes open."

"You should catch up on rest. Make up for all the years spent hunched over your piano."

"I guess so. Speaking of piano, I have a few gigs this month in Seoul." He rolled over after a stretch and a groan, where Kyungsoo could see the expanse of his stomach. The warmth was gone. Jongin then settled a few inches away, his gaze back to where it always was, "Will you miss me?"

The weight of a single sentence, uttered with casual ease by the taller boy, ignited a wildfire of implication across Kyungsoo's cheeks. He responded with a nonchalant shrug, tilting his body off the edge of the bed to shed his pajama bottoms. Kyungsoo never slept wearing pants; in this, he was the opposite of Jongin. Their differences were like pieces of a puzzle, although perhaps Kyungsoo's edges were slightly chipped away over time.

"I might miss you." He said, noncommital.

"That wasn't convincing, say it again."

"I have no time for this game. It lasted for an hour last time. I have to wake up in less than five."

A flicker of recognition danced in Jongin's eyes, not quite surprise but a peculiar tenderness, as if he had glimpsed the familiar sensation of loss and mirrored it back in his gaze. Yet, in the brief moment between hearing Kyungsoo and parting his lips to speak, that fleeting emotion slipped away, lost in the gaps of the boy nodding and running a hand over his bangs.

"I'll leave when you get up for work. Baekhyun eventually needs his car back." He said.

"I'm sure he won't care if you sleep in. Let yourself rest for once."

"Okay. If he gets mad at me I'll just have to blame you." Jongin had his face buried in the pillow as Kyungsoo got back under the blanket. He leaned to switch off the light and as the room faded into a quick night, he felt a radiating heat near the side of his face. He turned. Jongin pressed his lips to the corner of his mouth.

As Jongin withdrew, his cross necklace swayed gently in the air, catching a glimmer of light that flickered from the windowpane. Amidst the hushed intimacy, Kyungsoo swallowed the dry knot in his throat, allowing the kiss to dissipate as if it had never happened. One peculiar trait about Jongin was his courage in the shadows, finding solace in the quietude where the sun's fierce gaze was veiled, as if God's eye watched from above in a ball of fire.

Since they were young, Jongin was affectionate with him. Not like Chanyeol, who was the type to bear hug and yank the smaller in his lap despite protests. Jongin was soft, deliberate. If Kyungsoo didn't know him, he wouldn't have seen the filter of desperation behind the proximity. Jongin pulled people in like they were going to vanish into the air, and was unrelenting with his vulnerable beauty.

Whenever they strolled through the narrow aisles of video stores or glided across the roller rink, Kyungsoo couldn't help but notice how Jongin resembled the enigmatic figures in the movies they borrowed. He possessed an ambiguous allure, compelling attention like a sin cloaked in a rosary, like a Christian dream. Chanyeol would joke and call Jongin the, "Korean Matt Dillon." 

He got attention. He could have anyone and yet-

When he was away from the prying eyes of the public, Jongin was his shadow, sticking close and keeping himself wedged in his blankets and restaraunt barstools. Hooked in his arm or pulled into his side. He saw all the other boys on a weekly basis, but Jongin was a constant force, cloaked in motorcycle jackets and a dancer's elegance. He was used to being with him and dealing with the pianist's wants, that he was sure it made the rest of the world jealous. 

Even with that familiar, aching fear licking in his gut, he still couldn't say no to it.

___

Awakening from his short lived slumber, Kyungsoo found Jongin still cocooned in the blankets, his hair tousled from sleep. With practiced efficiency, Kyungsoo dressed in his uniform and apron, then navigated the quiet morning routine before venturing out in Chanyeol's car to the noodle shop. Nirvana began playing the second the stereo found life, and he almost crashed trying to turn it off. He wanted to smash all those tapes himself.

The business greeted him with its usual morning chill, the windows frosted over from the biting cold outside. Kyungsoo, disoriented and half awake, braved the slippery ground, his footsteps cautious as he made his way inside. He forgot to take Chaneyol's heavy duty winter jacket with him, it was his favorite to steal.

The warmth of the kitchen often felt suffocating, a humid heaviness that settled in the air. But on a slightly freezing day, Kyungsoo found solace in the crispness, grateful for the cold that seeped in to keep him from sweating to death. As he clocked in, a shiver ran down his spine. He pondered, with a curious anticipation, about the faces that would grace the noodle shop later in the day.

Each arrival was a familarity in his routine. He had a feeling he would see Jongdae up early, Chanyeol in the afternoon, and Jongin at night. Maybe he should start making bets for whoever he sees first. He'd be rich.

His mother was with him throughout the dawn, and as the sun rose into a deep icy blue, more customers began to come in. They were all regulars. He wondered about what Chanyeol had mentioned the day before, about how there was never a new face. It was true. He wasn't sure it if bothered him.

No one besides Minseok came in to his work to order a milkshake, and as he hung up his apron, he let the cold seep into his bones. It wasn't until he got home and flicked on the light, awaiting a silent apartment and a purple post-it note on the island counter, that the temperature rose in his body.

13:4 - The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing: but the soul of the diligent shall be made fat.

He laughed and tucked it into his jeans, taking it with him like a drop of starlight. He was never sure where to put them, so they all ended up in his top dresser in a collection of proverbs and wishes. His little kindnesses sleeping in the confines of linen and wood.

________

"It's my turn," Jongdae protested, elbowing Baekhyun aside as he fought to insert the coin into the jukebox. Baekhyun, with a mischievous laugh and shaggy mullet, lunged to flip through the song book. Jongdae wedged himself between Baekhyun and the machine, calling out for Kyungsoo's aid as if he was their referee. "Kyungsoo! Help me! He's trying to play a shitty ballad for the tenth-millionth time."

Gathered within the dimly lit expanse of the diner, the group found solace in the backroom after hours, a sanctuary Baekhyun's parents always kept available for friends and sports games. Kyungsoo found that they spent most of their off time there. Its aesthetic was a blend of bright furniture and century-old knick knacks, permeated by the nostaglic aroma of fried food and coffee. The lighting permeated between overwhelming brightness duirng the day, and a soft dimness when they had the place to themselves under the seasons.

"Let him choose the next song for once, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo replied, his attention zoned in on Chanyeol setting up the pool table for another match. He had previously won multiple games with ease, and the taller was scowling the way he did when he lost too many times in a row. To be fair, Chanyeol would hardly handle a single loss due to his competativeness. It was rather annoying, except when the taller got his karma.

Minseok sat off to the side with Jongin, both defeated after facing Kyungsoo in numerous games. Despite the fun of playing in a larger group, Kyungsoo found a strange satisfaction in their sad acceptance. He smirked.

"Chanyeol, it's practically masochism at this point. Give it a rest." The eldest remarked from his chair, casually picking at his teeth as if he couldn't be bothered with another short-lived match.

"Thanks for the words of encouragement."

"No problem. Just telling it like it is."

"Kyungsoo is a cheater. I'll learn his secrets. He made some shady deal with someone to get special training in pool." Chanyeol muttered and furrowed his brows, rubbing chalk on the end of his stick.

"I literally win by hitting the balls into the holes. I follow the same rules you do."

"That's what she said!" Baekhyun's voice, sharp and shrill, cut through the air, laden with the echoes of their ongoing skirmish with Jongdae in the corner. On his rare nights off, Kyungsoo found himself basking in the glow of their wildness, perhaps relishing the triumph a little more than usual amidst the cacophony of chaos unleashed by the others.

Like that was the breaking point, Chanyeol pinched between his eyebrows, "Baekhyun. Get over here and help me strategize against this jerk. Let Jongdae pick the music so he'll stop complaining. I can't go down like this alone."

"The drama." Jongin commented with a giggle.

"This is real life. Losing to Kyungsoo is nothing to laugh about. My pride hurts."

"I lost to Kyungsoo more times than you did, you don't see me crying."

Baekhyun finally unlatched from the music and walked to Chanyeol, slinging a skinny arm around his back. From his absence, Jongdae enthusiastically flipped through the songbook, his eyes alight with blind carelessness for what was going on behind him.

"I won't let you embarass yourself any longer, Yeollie. Bro code." Baekhyun declared with unwavering confidence, his voice carrying across the room.

"Two against one? That's practically cheating." Kyungsoo looked around, searching for an ally. Baekhyun had beginners luck written all over him, and he didn't trust the odds. "I need a partner too."

Chanyeol, though reluctant, nodded in agreement. It was then that Jongin, catching Kyungsoo's eye, decided to join forces with him. With a meek determination, the tall boy avoided his gaze with the pool stick.

"Please pick Minseok, I suck."

"I'll teach you."

"You've already tried."

"Come here, Jongin."

"If you pick Jonginnie then we will win for sure. I think he's worse than me." Chanyeol joked, earning an elbow from Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo waited til Jongin settled into his side, his white button-up sleeves now pulled up to show the bronze of his arms. The smaller patted him and pointed to where the balls were coraled, "You can break them up if you want. Just follow my posture as you position the cue stick."

The latter nodded timidly and flickered his eyes over Kyungsoo as he leaned over, hunching his back into a straight line and setting the stick on the edge. Jongin angled himself to copy him, and Kyungsoo heard music start over the speakers, "You want to hardly move the stick when you thrust it forward. If you make it quick and straight then it'll usually go exactly where you aim it. That's why I never wait long. I just lean and shoot."

"Are you trying to make this suggestive?" Minseok teased from the sidelines.

Jongin's smile was gentle and relaxed, reminiscent of the soothing cadence of his voice. "Anyways-" he continued, meeting Kyungsoo's gaze once more. His expression remained enigmatic, veiled by the shadow cast by his warm-tone bangs. "Maybe this is easier since you're shorter..."

"If you bring my height into it then you're just going to be bad at billiards forever."

A laugh, white and gentle, "Sorry, Soo."

Jongin's practice shot then sent a striped ball into the right corner hole, swiftly deciding the teams. Their happiness was short lived when Jongin shot again and missed.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol, their heads close together in strategizing, began bickering around the table to plan their first move. Amidst the chatter, Kyungsoo gave Jongin an approving high-five.  Jongin's fingers intertwined with Kyungsoo's, the subtle touch lingering before their hands eventually dropped, the smaller saw that Minseok was watching them. He averted his eyes back to the green of the felt table in hasty avoidance. He wished that the other's didn't eye him like that. Like they knew something.

"I've never seen Kyungsoo this competitive. It's only with this game." Jongdae commented after finally curating his playlist, but the rivaling team was talking too loudly for Kyungsoo to truly know which song was playing. He saw the boy's curved smile and cropped haircut in the corner of his eye, and he hated how Jongdae would always lean over the side to ogle, it was distracting, and he almost always found a way to mess with the Billiard balls.

"He's only passionate when he knows hes good at something." Chanyeol chuckled and finally made his move, his large body towering down and sending a solid ball spinning, the sound was loud as all of the resin clanked together. None of them sunk into the holes, and Kyungsoo laughed. Chanyeol dropped to the floor with a low groan, his spirit dying visibly.

More laughter erupted from the boys like a chorus, their voices now clammering together to tease and mimic the taller's defeat, and Kyungsoo looked up to see Jongin's crescented eyes and dimples. Kyungsoo couldn't fathom why he was compelled to record details, but it was as though he had no control over his own impulses. It had veered off its usual path, now obsessively committing every nuance to memory: the scattered stubble on Jongin's face, the reddish auburn of his hair that was faded into a muted rose. 

The latter noticed him immediately, directing his glee towards Kyungsoo's face instead. He sagged an arm around his shoulder, "I guess we won't have an issue winning together, will we?"

"I think Chanyeol is the black hole."

"The game just started!" Baekhyun pleaded, his eyes big and wild, "I still have time to redeem him!"

"After Kyungsoo's second turn, you'll get your chance." Jongin let Kyungsoo go, watching from over his shoulder as the smaller analyzed the board. The moment of silence was softened by anticipation, and when Kyungsoo shot, he scored. The boys jumped in an uproar, and Jongin slid up behind him to squeeze his shoulder. Kyungsoo felt the puff of Jongin's shriek on his hair.

In a brutal five minutes, Kyungsoo emerged victorious, his strategic prowess prevailing like all the other times they've played. Baekhyun's unconventional teamwork had somehow managed to throw Chanyeol off balance even worse than when he was alone, a fact that elicited more contagious teasing from the entire group.

After the game, they settled into one of the booths, the atmosphere buzzing with overlapping conversations. Baekhyun, playing the gracious host, retrieved beers from the back fridge, but Jongin shook his head at the offer once they were brought to the table. 

"What's the matter, Jongin? Afraid you'll get too drunk and serenade us like last time?" Jongdae nudged the boy with his shoulder, earning a eye-roll from Kyungsoo.

Jongin simply smiled with his full lips, unfazed. "Nah, tomorrow I'm giving piano lessons early."

"Baekhyun doesn't care that he has work tomorrow, right?"

"I'm only having one this time. I promise." Baekhyun huffed, using his lip to scoot Minseok and Chanyeol over. The booth was too small for all three of them on one bench, and the taller was shoved into the corner with a grunt, "Ow."

"I don't think I'll have more than one, either." Kyungsoo ran his fingers through the front of his black hair, the face framing pieces falling right back into the spot in front of his eyes. Jongin reached over Jondgae, who sat between them, to pat the side of Kyungsoo's hair flat.

"Who carpooled?" Someone asked.

"Me and Channie, obviously. We picked up Jongin, so he's coming too." Kyungsoo knew nobody was surprised at the fact Jongin practically lived at their apartment for free. No one seemed to care, either. Why did he?

"I think the rest of us drove ourselves." Minseok nodded and already had a quarter of his beer gone, despite the observation.

"Let's all have one drink each and sing a few songs on karaoke, then we can hit the road. I don't wanna drive too late since the roads get icy." Chanyeol bumped Minseok, who spilled beer down his front. They were arm to arm since Baekhyun was still trying to get his other ass cheek on the outer seat.

Amidst conversations about youthful love and labor, the clink of empty beer bottles marked the end of one shared ritual, prompting them to rise, emboldened, towards the allure of the Juke box. The topic was always all over the place with the other boys, nostalgic and full of drama and petty arguments over owed money and bets, sometimes swerving into girls they went to school with, who they were talking to.

Kyungsoo never knew what to add when the others were raving about a girl's clothes or face, or when Chanyeol would keep numbers in his wallet, bragging about how he has enough to make a flip-book out of them. Through the laughter, he would think of his ex girlfriend, and then he'd move on. He didn't get it. Why did dating matter so much? Maybe he was too busy to care, or maybe no one had caught his eye in a long, long time.

Kyungsoo, with his mind forever set on the soul genre, made a move for the songbook, only to be swiftly outmaneuvered by Chanyeol, who promptly queued up LL Cool J. Kyungsoo's retaliation came in the form of a playful slap to the back of Chanyeol's head. Such was the ritual.

Jongdae, the master of vocal acrobatics, opted for the Bee Gees, well aware that his impressive range was made to be shown off at every given moment. Jongin had begged him to be part of the church choir when they first had karaoke night together years ago, but he was too shy, unlike Baekhyun.

Jongin begged Kyungsoo to join as well, but Kyungsoo considered himself even less confident in the spotlight than anyone else. He was always told he had a good voice growing up, but he never used it for anything serious. Maybe he should have. Then he could tour in the city like Jongin.

Predictably, a heated debate erupted over the song selection, the air buzzing with musical discord. Jongin subtly hooked his finger into the loop of Kyungsoo's jean belt, gently tugging him closer.

"Pick something we can do together," he urged, his voice a quiet entreaty amidst the shouting. He was all tan skin and dark eyes.

"I'm going to pick the hardest song, then."

"Wowwww." Jongin smirked, "You don't have to flex on me like that."

"Or you can sing one by yourself." Kyungsoo edged away from Jongin's lingering hand, his lips curling.

"It'll be fun if we both do it, I promise. Just one song. Come here."

Jongin tried to pull Kyungsoo into his lap, but Kyungsoo playfully dodged his grasp. After a moment of Jongin eyeing him, he settled on the latter's knee. Yet, just as swiftly as he yielded, Kyungsoo would assert his independence, walking a delicate line of intimacy and distance, a dance orchestrated in the depths and layers of boyhood and secrets.

"After Chanyeollie's song we should go home. I'm kinda tired after that beer." home-as if they shared it.

Jongin looked as though he was about to protest, but stuck out his lips and held Kyungsoo in place as a subtle agreement. He smelled like polyester and cologne, and Kyungsoo reached to tuck a strand away from the boy's eyes. Jongin's eyes closed slowly at the gesture.

"Yeah, let's leave soon. I wanna sleep in your bed."

The implication struck a chord in Kyungsoo's chest, alighting it with fire and a bout of clarity, as he shifted to his left to stare at the side of Jongin's face. It was a deep, brief glance, and as Jongin attempted to meet his eyes, he was already looking back out to the scene. Chanyeol and Minseok were swaying to the blaring pop song, while Jongdae and Baekhyun battled vocally in front of the machine, their shirts untucked from how violent their dancing was.

He exchanged a look with Chanyeol once the song reached a crescendo, and pointed toward the door. Chanyeol lifted an eyebrow as a small, "Now?"

He nodded, and the obedient giant unstuck himself from Minseok and shuffled in his pocket for his keys, the noise catching the attention of the singers. He took a few steps back, "Hey, we gotta go sooner rather than later, I'm sorry guys. Catch you tomorrow?"

"Aw, lame." Jondgae whined and frowned like a baby, the image a perfect visualization of who the man was, "Drive safe, guys."

"Bye, losers." Baekhyun waved as his attention was diverted back to the song book. They all saw eachother so often, goodbyes were temporary and nearly useless.

Through the black claws of the night, they embarked on the homeward journey in the cocooned sanctuary of Chanyeol's car. The roads, slick and unforgiving, distracted from the silence. Chanyeol found his heater failing him once more, the biting chill seeping in through the car's seams as he cussed and messed with the dials. Kyungsoo didn't know why he kept trying to fix something unfixable.

In an unusual shift, Jongin took the coveted front seat, granting Kyungsoo the solitude to retreat into a lethargy. He leaned against the window, his breath forming patterns on the glass. With fingertips, he traced the outline of a cross upon the condensation, an ephemeral symbol etched and birthed into reality.

"Jongin, pick a CD."

Jongin's laughter, a warm ring amidst the cold, filled the car's interior. "Chanyeol, you're giving me a false sense of freedom here. Every CD is Nirvana. It's like choosing between shades of depression."

Kyungsoo found his eyelids growing heavy at the thought. He loathed the feeling of weariness on his precious days off, the stolen moments of rest slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. He never felt like he had enough time.

Upon their arrival, Kyungsoo nearly succumbed to the slippery ground, eliciting a chuckle from Chanyeol, whose laughter hung in the air like an echo.

 They shed their shoes in unison, the apartment offering only marginal respite from the biting cold outdoors. Chanyeol's teeth chattered like morse code, prompting him to embark on a mission to wrest control from the winter's grip. He disappeared momentarily, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the apartment as he ventured to adjust the thermostat, not bothering with a goodnight. Those felt useless too.

In the midst of the domestic struggle, Jongin, like a silent wisp, followed Kyungsoo to his bedroom where the ritual of shedding the burdens of the day began. Kyungsoo undressed methodically, and slipped out of his outdoor attire into the familiar comfort of pajamas strewn across his bed. His movements, though short, held a certain casualty, a quiet ballet of familiarity.

They were roommates, at this point. Jongin just didn't have to pay, and got a lot of free food. It was a little unfair, in Kyungsoo's eyes.

Jongin, in his own way, followed suit but with a touch of intention. He discarded his shirt, leaving his pants untouched—a gesture caught between intimacy and restraint. The room, now privy to this silent exchange, seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the unspoken words to bloom into actions.

Kyungsoo broke the silence. "You can borrow some warmer pajamas if you want. If you're gonna be cold."

"I doubt anything of yours will fit me," he replied, his tone laced with light banter, a mask for something deeper.

 Kyungsoo met Jongin's jest with a steely resolve masked by a hidden smile. "Well, I guess you'll just have to freeze then."

"I've got you to keep me warm."

Kyungsoo chose not to respond to the subtle invitation, allowing the words to fall into the carpet. He knew where the night was heading, and it created a jittery ache in his heart that stayed in his throat. Instead of showing it on his face, he led them both to the bathroom.

In the mirrored reflection, Kyungsoo's gaze flickered between their images, his eyes tracing the height difference that had always existed, ever since Jongin hit puberty around thirtneen, his body, sculpted and lean, seemed to stand in stark juxtaposition to Kyungsoo's own, his frame softer, gentler. The cross necklace, hanging against Jongin's golden skin, captured the unflattering light, drawing Kyungsoo's attention with a magnetic pull. It was a distraction, a glimmering reminder of something forbidden, and frankly, unallowed.

"Why did you want to leave early, Soo?" Jongin suddenly pondered, his mouth full of toothpaste. Some of it dribbled onto his chin, and Kyungsoo fought himself not to wipe it off for him.

"I just wanted to sleep in my own bed." Kyungsoo admitted with a solid spit of white into the sink, he peered up, "I'm sorry if you wanted to stay longer. Jongdae could have taken you home."

"I'm no good at karaoke anyway."

"We all know that's not true."

"Maybe I would have stayed if you sang that duet with me."

"It sounds like you just didn't wanna be there alone." He left out the underlying truth: without me.

"It's no fun, otherwise." Jongin's face looked serious.

You're so easy to read, Kyungsoo wanted to say. Instead, they moved to the bed, the room descending into darkness as Jongin, already attuned to Kyungsoo's habits, switched off the light. In the sudden obscurity, Kyungsoo felt a disoriented sense of loss, a complaint slipping past his lips. He had wanted to read his book, to lose himself in the solace of words and stories before reality hit him like a freight train in the morning. 

But before he could voice his protest, Jongin's lips found his in the darkness—a gentle, quiet kiss that hardly left any pressure. The complaint melted away, replaced by a wordless gasp and a quick jolt away from the other. He tried to find words, any words. Instead he gaped like a fish out of water at Jongin, who was inches away and hardly visible, like a bad dream.

Jongin leaned in to capture his lips once more. Kyungsoo remained passive, his eyebrows furrowing, lips pressed into a tight line. Jongin, undeterred, adjusted himself closer, a silhouette hovering over Kyungsoo like an angel sent to claim him, their breaths mingling in the shared space.

"Why are you being shy?" Jongin murmured, his voice a velvet whisper, seeking to unravel Kyungsoo's reticence and probably his self control. Kyungsoo remained wordless, caught in an endless nocturnal loop of a desire he didn't know was his. He put a hand over the boy's bare chest and pushed in warning, "Jongin."

With a predatory determination, Jongin was upon him again, his lips a wet force against Kyungsoo's. With his head now against the pillow, Kyungsoo could hardly hold his breath as the taller kissed it out of him, leaving a trail all over the boy's chin and darting around his face, the scent of peppermint and heat making him dizzy.

As the taller's tongue found itself over Kyungsoo's bottom row of teeth, he shoved the man's chest away. There was a lewd string of saliva connecting their swollen lips as Jongin hovered, and Kyungsoo swallowed the urge to run away, "We can't. We can't. Not tonight."

"Huh? Why?"

"We can't, Jonginnie." He twisted to turn the lamp back on, which shed a warm layer over their compromised position. He sat up away from the other and could see Jongin's face fall, "We're not...we can't."

"We can't what?"

"I'm not drunk." Kyungsoo said into the void, his face flushed hot as Jongin finally granted him space.

"I know. I'm not either."

"Then..." The smaller let the word fade away into nothingness. It was rare for them to do anything without the protection of a clouded mind. It wasn't supposed to be that way.

"Then?" A hint of hope.

"I told you...when I'm sober it's..."

"We've done it sober before." The pianist muttered, a smile on his lips despite the furrow of his brow, like two identities were fighting over control of his next decision, "C'mere, Soo. You're overthinking again."

Jongin just beckoned for the other to come closer, his eyes drooping with a feverish need, Kyungsoo had to obey by crawling back up to his face, and letting the boy kiss him gratingly for the hundrenth time. There was no point to reject their routine, since despite his complaints, Kyungsoo's body betrayed him.

There was something different about the way they intermingled tongues and clashed teeth now that they were older, it was with less reservation and more fervor. Their hands were feeling every inch of each other with a sensuality that resembled heedlessness, no holding back noises of fruition, just moaning into each other and letting hot breath fan over their bating lips. Jongin's hands were soft and large as they slid up Kyungsoo's baggy shirt and wrapped over his ribs.

Along with the millions of American movies and candy stores, Jongin was also a consumable habit that Kyungsoo developed overtime. Ever since sixteen, Jongin would crawl into his bed and chip away at the boundaries that Kyungsoo placed. Kyungsoo did not like men, but Jongin was another creature altogether, strewn with halos and hellfire. He knew he didn't like men. Neither of them did. They couldn't.

The light was turned back off before Kyungsoo could think about what would happen if they did.

Jongin had a very open face as they pulled apart. His eyes were low and his lips were parted, now beestung from the way the taller ravaged him like it was their last night together. Maybe Jongin was scared it was. He was breathing hard as he felt up Kyungsoo's back, "Can I touch you?"

He always implored. Kyungsoo hesitated, his uncertainty palpable, before finally nodding. Jongin gently lifted him, settling him against the headboard. Kyungsoo averted his gaze, not wanting to meet Jongin's eyes in the darkness, but the older man used a finger to tenderly lift his chin. 

"I like it when you look at me." he murmured softly, his voice soft compared to the way he was holding him like prey, "Your eyes are pretty."

"Don't be gross."

The latter laughed, "Okay, Soo."

Jongin hand trailed downward, across the fabric of his cotton shirt and down down down. Past his underarm, down his ribcage and onward. His fingertips dragged themselves across the material with ease, until his hand found the hem and lifted gently.

Exposing Kyungsoo's stomach, his breath hitched in his throat, and he barely found his voice enough to stutter out a, "Don't talk while you do it either."

"Yeah, yeah." Jongin dropped a light touch to the edge of Kyungsoo's navel.

Kyungsoo didn't fully hate it--but it felt wrong. All of it. Jongin talking to him in a deep timbre made it feel all too real. It was a rule they had, no dirty talk, no names. His head cleared when the taller boy's hand found itself at the seam of Kyungsoo's sweatpants. It was all too quiet and Kyungsoo could only hear his heart beating, until Jongin took back his apology with a gentle, "You're so warm."

Kyungsoo wasn't used to dealing with helplessness. He was always a man of few words, a paragon of logic. So when the sentence, "You're teasing me. You're going too slow." unexpectedly escaped his lips, he didn't quite comprehend the source of which it came.

"You like when I tease you, Soo."

"Wrong. You like teasing me." If any romance was there, Kyungsoo also had a knack for killing it.

"Take these off then." Jongin replied, his response laced with a subtle fatique. Kyungsoo perceived a hint of discontent in his words. Rejection. "You make me do all the work. You always tell me that you were the one in charge when it came to your ex-girlfriends. What happened?"

Jongin didn't bring up any examples. Of course, but Kyungsoo still had an ego, and the words still stung. The taller looked hurt when he balled up the pants and tossed them aside, approaching Kyungsoo for a third time between his knees.

"We'll, you're not one of my ex-girlfriends, are you?"

That sparked a darkness in the other's eyes as he pressed his lips flat, "I know that much."

Blood rushed through him like a fast river, heading south fast than it had ever done before as Jongin's hand tightened at his words. He felt like he had to warn the man, to remove himself from the situation before he was spun too far, but his self deprecation was cut short by a shock wave of pleasure coursing though his body.

Jongin had his hand up the opening by his leg, and he had hardened from the contact in seconds. He had no idea how his body could react that easily to the man's touch, even after years of the off and on intimacy. The boy must know his body better than anyone else.

Kyungsoo had one arm pressed tightly over Jongin's bicep and the other clutching at the sheets, he grabbed a fistful of linen as another wave travelled through him. His member twitched under Jongin's palm, and he quickly covered his mouth before he made an embarrassing sound.

As Jongin pumped up and down, his lips were working the side of his neck, careful to not leave any marks, but just enough to leave the skin pink and raw. They weren't allowed to leave any hickies or evidence of what they did, but the temptation was always there. Hovering, and waiting.

"Touch me." Jongin quickly whispered on his nape. Kyungsoo couldn't refuse him, and reached between their torsos to feel the outline of what he was searching for. When he found the boy's scorching heat, it was just as hard as his own. He nearly laughed at the hypocrisy of them both. 

 Jongin, with his desperate touch, seemed to be reaching out for something beyond his grasp, yet his movements were imbued with a strange grace. Kyungsoo, on the other hand, projected denial. When he didn't have liquid courage, this was who he was. Someone who was far away from their body, shameful and desperate.

It was evident in the way Jongin aided him to finish, with hot breaths and whispers and endless worship. His eyes would open back up from being squeezed tight, and Jongin would say, "You did so good for me."

When Kyungsoo helped Jongin, all he could muster is fleeting eye contact, which he avoided altogether by making sure their lips never detatched.

It struck him, the irony of it all. In his past entanglements with women, he had assumed the mantle of dominance, dictating the rhythm and pace of their intimacy. Now, he felt adrift, a mariner lost in the vast expanse of unfamiliar waters. The roles had shifted, and he found himself in a position of unexpected reversal at the hands of a childhood friend, and saint.

When Kyungsoo was coming down from his erratic high, he saw Jongin's necklace dangling above him, golden and taunting, as he cleaned the mess on Kyungsoo's front with a discarded shirt. It woke him up every time, like cleaning a crime scene.

"Goodnight, Kyungsoo."

Then the cross was gone, replaced by the dark ceiling, "Goodnight, Jongin."

___________

On slow days where he got off work early, and had energy left to spare, Kyungsoo found himself wandering into the sanctuary of the church to visit. There, he offered a nod to his adversity, which paired an offhand gesture to acknowledge faith in general. Yet, his true fascination lay in the intricate tapestry of the church's architecture, a testament to human ingenuity reaching toward the heavens. 

His eyes, drawn upward, met the kaleidoscope of colors adorning the stained glass windows, each scene a vivid mosaic of spirituality. It felt like the eyes were watching him, knowingly, and he could only stare for a moment, before retreating back to the rug below his shoes.

Amongst the rows of seated people, he found solace in Jongin's piano melodies, the ethereal notes intertwining with the mournful gaze of Jesus on the cross. Occasionally, when Baekhyun's irreverence took a back seat, his voice soared in harmonious hymns along to the chords, never failing to make Kyungsoo forget that he was just Baekhyun at the end of the day.

The smaller's presence was a rare thing, despite the beauty of it all, and he never stayed longer than an hour. He couldn't. He saw Jongin's parents on the front bench, but merely bowed as he sunk into one of the back aisles. Kyungsoo's own parents never had the time to practice a faith so maybe that was where he got his blatent disconnect with the concept, or maybe, it was because Jongin would kiss him wearing a crucifix.

Either way, he stayed until the song eased to a spiraling halt, and stood to clap so that Jongin could see him across the expanse. Like some kind of sixth sense, the pianist held his head up high and sent him a blinding smile, his chestnut hair ruffled into perfection over the sweat of his forehead.

"Jongin." Kyungsoo stayed with him by the stage as the rest of the church headed out of the double doors. Baekhyun had vanished into the crowd somewhere, and Kyungsoo hadn't know what else to do with himself.

"You came today, Soo." Jongin was leaning off the piano bench to tug on his jacket, his face mimics the sun, "How was it this time?"

"Always incredible." Kyungsoo absentmindedly helped Jongin fit his arm through the hole, "Baekhyun too."

"When will you sing with us, then? Since you think we're amazing-"

"I sing. I'm not a singer."

Jongin got up and hopped a little to adjust the fit over his shoulders. The gesture was endearing. Kyungsoo continued patiently, "You have to pick anything up at home before you come over?"

"I have everything." Jongin patted his messenger bag as they finally started moving with the rest of the people, "What's the movie theme for tonight?"

"Horror."

"Oh, that's a rare one." The taller grinned, a true contrast to what would be expected of someone so sensitive and holy, "My favorite genre."

"I don't know why. You are full of mysteries."

"Are you scared of ghosts or something?"

"Duh." Kyungsoo led them both outside to the Volvo, he glanced at Jongin, a comforting silence enveloping them along with a gust of merciless wind. "By the way, I brought you leftovers from the noodle shop. They're in the back seat."

Jongin's eyes lit up with gratitude. "Thanks, dude. I didn't have lunch today, so I appreciate it." He paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he ducked into the passenger seat. "Baekhyun will be jealous he missed out. He's got homework to finish, though."

"Homework, huh? He's been diligent lately. Driving to school all the way in the city now."

"Yeah. Seems like he's really focused on his studies. I guess he's trying to have the busiest schedule out of all of us."

Headlights and streetlamps merged into a dizzying dance of blurs as they drove. Buildings mirrored their vibrant hues, casting zig-zags on the rippling waters of the bay, "I can't imagine how tough it must be, going to medical school out in Seoul a few days a week."

Jongin glanced at him, his expression thoughtful. "You know, Kyungsoo, you could still go to school if you wanted to."

Kyungsoo shook his head, his hands gripping the steering wheel with practice. "I don't even know what I would study, I'm always working at the noodle shop, and I can barely keep up with that."

"Culinary, maybe?" Jongin suggested innocently, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Culinary arts? Maybe in another life," he replied, but his tone held a note of resignation. The weight of his cage bore down on him, leaving little room for a dream. He thought of how differently things would be if he had been born a Seoul-lite, maybe he would have a grasp on what he was doing. He didn't want to think about it.

Jongin shifted the conversation, his eyes landing on Kyungsoo's hair as the smaller kept his face straight. "Your hair's getting long for winter. Soon you won't have to wear beanies at all."

"I should probably cut it before my mom notices and nags me about it." he said in a low tone, suddenly even more embarassed.

But Jongin made a sound of disagreement, reaching over to pat the top of Kyungsoo's head gently. "Nah, it suits you. I like it. It reminds me of when you were a kid and your mom gave you those bowl cuts," Kyungsoo remained silent as Jongin's second observation hit close to home, "Usually you'd atleast smile at that. You've seem stressed lately, Soo. More than usual. It's like you're holding yourself so tight you'll break."

Kyungsoo forced a smile, attempting to shrug off an invisible weight from the tops of his cardigan, that possibly, Jongin could see. The boy had the eyes of a hawk when he was paying attention, "I would tell you if something was bothering me."

 "Is it work?" he asked, his eyes searching Kyungsoo's face endlessly. 

"Probably just not sleeping well," he replied, his voice tight, avoiding Jongin's aggressive gaze, "Don't worry about it, Nini. Tonight is movie night. We're gonna have fun."

As Kyungsoo glanced to the side, his eyes caught the glimmer of Jongin's cross, which was being fiddled with in nervous quiet. He couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that Jongin was most likely sleeping over, the arrangement that always left Kyungsoo feeling both uneasy and caught in a web of self destruction.

"Who picked the scary movie this time? Usually it's me and everyone hates it."

"I think it was Chanyeol. Sehunnie and Junmyeon are coming over so-"

"What!" Jongin spun in the seat with his eyes wide, a hysterical laugh from his lips, "They're visiting? Why did no one tell me!"

"I just did."

"You should have started with that information first. We haven't seen them in months. Every gig I had in Seoul was so short-lived I never got to visit them in the city. I wonder if Junmyeon hyung brought along some of that expensive wine he's always bragging about..." he mused, his enthusiasm infectious, like everything else about him. There was an essence so addicting about Jongin's face when he smiled, it was like watching the sun flicker through the clouds.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Kyungsoo had a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I bet you Sehun will stroll in wearing yet another pretentious brand name coat like last time. Burberry, Gucci or something similar. The douche-bag kind."

"What are we betting?"

"If I win, I'll buy takeout tonight. If you win, you have to buy it. We'd be buying for all the boys too."

"No, no. If I lose I'm buying yours only. I cannot afford Sehun's appetite, topped with Chanyeol's? You're insane."

Kyungsoo chuckled, "Fine. Just mine. You only have to buy mine if you lose."

"Well, now I sound like a sore loser. I'll buy for everyone."

"You can't keep changing the rules!"

"We all know that Sehun will probably show up wearing a king's crown. But- consider it a deal. I'll buy for the boys, and you, if that idiot is wearing his stupid jacket." he declared, extending his hand for a firm handshake, it landed awkwardly since Kyungoo was driving, and in that fleeting moment, the burdens of earlier concerns seemed to dissolve, stepping out of the winter chill.

When he saw Sehun and Junmyeon for the first time in six months, they looked ripped out of a magazine. Tall, pale and handsome with the refinery of new money. They were standing in Kyungsoo's living room, looking as though they were never meant to belong there. He hugged them both tightly, with Jongin and Chanyeol behind him blaring loudly as they fought to embrace them next.

"Holy shit, guys. You look..."

"Rich as fuck." Chanyeol finished, his doe-eyes poking out of his head, "You look like you're here to give us a eviction notice."

Junmyeon laughed a bashful laugh, eyes cast down at his loafers, misplaced over the shag carpeting, "I had to come straight after a work meeting. I have more comfy clothes in my suitcase. I swear I wasn't trying to look...like this."

Sehun, stoic and flushed, smiled, "I have no excuse. I just dress like this now. I am a refined gentleman."

Jongin pulled him into a side hug which looked more like a headlock, "This better not be a brand-name coat, you bastard."

"Of course it is. Burberry. Why would you ask that?"

Kyungsoo and the pianist locked eyes, and burst into laughter. He was getting a free meal tonight.

Once the greetings were addressed and the awkwardness phased out, the boys settled onto the worn-out, tacky-colored couch in Kyungsoo's living room. It was humid with how many people were moving about the cramped space, and Jongin was crouched over the coffee table, savoring the leftovers Kyungsoo had brought him, eyes lighting up with every bite as he listened intently to the others talk.

"So, how's the city treating you? I know we call sometimes but...seeing you in person is different." Kyungsoo asked, genuinely curious, looking at Junmyeon. His eyes held a mix of envy and admiration, the longing for something tangible. The man smelled like unaffordable satin. 

Junmyeon's face lit up with excitement as he smoothed out his blazer with ringed fingers. "Oh, Seoul has been incredible! The lights, the energy, the people—it's all so overwhelming, but in the best way possible." His face was handsome, like always, but more aged as he spoke, "I'm honestly shocked you guys haven't come up there yet. I know you'd all love it. You guys know that me and Sehunnie's place is always open if you wanna stay with us and check it out."

Kyungsoo shifted uncomfortably on the couch, his eyes meeting Junmyeon's sympathetic gaze. "I haven't had much time to visit, you know, the noodle shop keeps me busy, especially since my parents aren't as spry as they used to be. They need more help now."

"You think you're gonna take it over eventually?"

Kyungsoo furrowed his brow, his mouth moving faster than his brain, "That's what they tell me."

"Is that something you see yourself doing?"

"Well, do I have a choice...?"

Chanyeol, sitting next to Kyungsoo on the arm of the couch, butt in, trying to lighten the mood. "We are all busy now. Working from home turned me into a complete recluse personally. But hey, whatever pays the bills, right?"

A courtesy laugh rippled through the room, a fragile shield against the relief that hung in the air. Jongin's watchful gaze remained fixed on Kyungsoo, a silent observation that Kyungsoo chose to dismiss, pretending not to notice the intensity in those eyes.

"I'd ask about the others, but since I'm seeing them later I guess I can wait. But, hey, in all seriousness. You let me stay here when we come down, so it's only fair we invite you all over. Baekhyun, Jongdae--everyone." Junmyeon had a hand over Sehun's thigh, "We can pay for the trip. Don't worry about money."

"You don't have to do that." Kyungsoo trailed off.

Sehun brushed something invisible off of his boyfriend's nape as if the offer meant nothing, "Honestly, guys, we have a guest room and a couch. We'd love to have you over for a weekend. And there's this amazing bar nearby I've been dying to show you all. It has the best imported German beer."

"Speaking of beer, you guys want any?" Chanyeol slid off the edge and scooted to the kitchen, cracking open the mint-colored fridge, "Nothing imported, but..."

"Shouldn't we wait for the others before we all get drunk?" Sehun peered over Junmyeon's styled locks at the taller.

"It'll be a few hours before the rest of them are home. I say we kill time until then."

"You're a fiend. Give the beer a break, Chanyeollie. You're just as bad as Minseok now." Kyungsoo remarked. Jongin dusted off his hands and slotted into the opening on the couch, automatically dropping an arm over the back of the headrest. He smelled like the noodle shop and a sweet shampoo.

"No one is as bad as Minseok."

"Sehun is." Junmyeon teased, half serious by the way his lip lowered, "You should see him when we go downtown. He's a menace."

Sehun's eyes widened as he jumped away from the other's lap, "What do you mean! You made me this way, spoiling me with fancy cocktails every night. Take some responsibility for the monster you created."

"Fine, fine. I guess next time we go out, you'll be fine without your Bellini?"

"You're mean."

Kyungsoo watched as Sehun and Junmyeon exchanged their feathery touches and giggles, their flirtations innocent, yet charged with an underlying natural element. Memories, like old photographs, flashed through Kyungsoo's mind—snapshots of a time when their friendships were simpler, unburdened by the complexities of sexuality. They were so comfortable now, less reserved and embarassed to show their sappiness in front of others.

 Sehun had shaken their world by embracing his truth in tenth grade. His revelation,  reverberated through their tight-knit group, leaving both shockwaves and awe in its wake. Jongin fervently prayed for Sehun when that happened, ironically.

He wondered why they never broached the subject openly as adults. Was it the weight of shame that held their tongues, or an invisible fear lurking in the shadows of their conversations? Junmyeon and Sehun were unquestionably accepted, yet the nature of their love remained veiled, as if shrouded in a dark pact.

The passage of time seemed to blur the importance of those unspoken words, especially now, as they all gathered together, sharing memories on his worn couch. Kyungsoo, too, had his own shadows, a looming darkness that took the shape of Jongin.

Yet, to him, it held no weight. It would never blossom into something profound. It wasn't love akin to the deep, enduring bond between Sehun and Junmyeon. Instead, it lingered at the surface, a fleeting emotion that never delved into the depths of his heart. Kyungsoo recognized it for what it was: a fleeting ache, a manifestation of his own solitude.

It had to be.

Maybe if he ended up confessing his sin, he'd be better off. His parents could kick him out and free him of the burden of owning their business. He could make a life of his own, drinking imported beer and watching Jongin play grand piano on the weekends. 

Shaking the last manifestation, he cleared his throat and asked Chanyeol for a beer. He needed one, and Jongin's freshly showered hair was making him nauseated.

"Can you get me one too?" Jongin was pressed so close, too close. The smile on his lips honeyed.

"Make it three." Sehun snapped out of his love daze long enough to be an alcoholic.

"Four." Added Junmyeon.

"I'll just...bring the rack." Chanyeol sighed from a few yards away.

It didn't take them all long to fall into a tipsy game of Poker Junmyeon wanted to teach them, which ended up being too complicated for their intoxicated brains, and they gave up after four attempts. That was when Chanyeol challenged them all to a game on the pinball machine, which brought Sehun and Jongin to their feet and huddled over the glass in no time. Kyungsoo was left alone with Junmyeon on the couch, then, watching as the business man fondly smiled at the others.

"No pinball for you?"

"You knew I was never a pinball guy, Soo." He turned and gave Kyungsoo a contemplative look, his chisled features dropping into thoughtfulness. He fiddled with his Rolex, "I wanted to say this earlier, but when I came in a noticed something. You look a lot skinnier."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"You seemed tired." The man went on, face creased, "Have you been thinking about something? Anything on your mind?"

That caught him off guard and he scratched the back of his head, the other knew better and could probably see righ through him, "I didn't realize I looked so terrible."

"Not terrible. Just overwhelmed. Work? Life?"

"I guess we're playing twenty questions." 

"You can talk to me. I know the rest of these guys are close to you...but you always told me what was on your mind in the past. Even Sehun noticed it."

He shook his head, as if the mere physical act could banish impure thoughts. It was a futile effort, failing to dispel the unsettling notions that clouded his mind. The latter bit the inside of his cheek, worry etched on his face. Kyungsoo swiftly dismissed the silent inquiry with another shake, "I guess...I'll tell you later."

"If you insist, Kyungsoo. I hope it's nothing serious."

The smaller let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and stared at Jongin's back, which was still holed up over the machine. He watched him and Sehun guffaw and hit eachother for a moment as Chanyeol lost a shot. Hellfire climbed the pit of his stomach.

"it's nothing serious."

He embodied everything Jongin wasn't—the embodiment of sin, brazen and unapologetic, flaunting his flaws for the world to witness. Jongin, devout, must have caught a glimpse of something beyond the divine, something that piqued his curiosity enough to push the limits of faith.

He found himself irresistibly pulled into his shadowed desire, captivated by the enigma that surrounded him, sinking into his reality before he could repent.

Because truly, how could he just say: "I've been fucking my best friend for years, but I'm not gay, and neither is he. He's also a faithful Christian, I'm a sinner."

Jongin peered over his shoulder and his lips curved around his words with buzzed ease, "Kyungsoo, can you get me another beer?"

He got up, weak as he always had been, "Yeah, fine."

"I guess Jongin is a drinker now. Who corrupted him?" Joonmyun laughed. Kyungsoo said nothing, choosing to stare down the beer on the counter. "It was probably Chanyeol." he said. The tight line of his mouth signified a flicker of disapointment, but he wouldn't admit the truth. Not now.

There was thankfully less attention on him after that, and he escaped free with the conversations rotating around Seoul and workplace drama. None of them had purposefully drank two entire cases of beer, but it happened, and by the time Jongdae arrived home, the formalities were long gone. Junmyeon and Sehun rushed to hug him, and his post-work lethargy was replaced with a large cheshire grin and a, "I guess I gotta catch up with you guys. Sorry I'm late to movie night."

"No Minseok or Baekhyun?" Chanyeol pondered, his long legs straightened under the coffee table.

"I think they're both asleep. It's late. You guys didn't know it's two in the morning?" Jongdae did his best to kick the front door shut with his heel, then patted the two drunken idiots on their backs, "How long are you guys in town? They can probably stop by tomorrow."

"We do have another day, but I wanted to see them tonight~" Sehun whined.

"We will! tomorrow. For sure, tomorrow. For lunch." Junmyeon slurred, his tie crooked when he pulled off of Jongdae.

"Can we watch the movie now?" Jongin added, sitting next to Chanyeol on the floor. His head was leaning against Kyungsoo's knee, and the smaller ran his fingers through his threads of rosy brown. He swore the boy let out a soft, vocal sigh at the touch. Kyungsoo blinked away a lewd thought at the sound.

"Nini wants to watch his scary movie. Let's watch it before we fall asleep."

"It's my scary movie. I picked it out to scare Sehun specifically." Chanyeol held the VHS tape up in his hand and waved it before popping it in, "It's Psycho 2."

The screen flickered and Jongdae finally sat down, still in his gallery clothes. Sehun was clinging to Junmyeon on the opposite side of the loveseat, "I won't be scared. I'm drunk so I'm braver that way." As if on cue, Chanyeol dimmed the lights and the latter shrieked.

As the movie played on in a haze of gore and bad acting, the alcohol began to lull Kyungsoo into a drowsy stupor. Jongin, who was leaned fully against his leg now, gazed up at him with drunken eyes, his words hanging in the air like a confession. "I want to go to bed after this. With you."

He watched the screen-light whirlpool in the boy's dark irises, "I know."

Jongin opened his mouth to say something and closed it again. He licked his lips. "Do you want to?" he asked finally, plaintively, and Kyungsoo laughed, sharp and sudden. Like the wind was knocked out of him. The rest were too invested and drunk to notice.

 "I don't care either way."

"Tell me you want to."

"Jongin-"

"Please." Jongin's lips turned into a pout, heavily shaded and obvious, "Don't make me sleep on the couch with them tonight."

Kyungsoo quickly turned to see if anyone heard that, but their eyes were still glued to the flickering screen. He nudged Jongin with his knee, "Of course you can sleep in my bed. Just drop it. Don't mention it again."

"Okay, Soo." His voice deflated, face back to the gruesome scene.

Guilt made a home in his stomach as Jongin's shoulders sagged against his calf, and as a brief apology he placed his hand back on his scalp, giving him a little scratch like he was a puppy. He knew the smell of his soap would linger on his fingers-but in that moment he didn't mind. He kind of welcomed it. He must be drunk.

"I'm hungry." Jondgae muttered loudly, minutes later into the movie as, surprise, more people died.

"What sounds good?" Chanyeol asked from the floor, looking up at Jongdae.

Another woman perished loudly on screen as the boy rolled his eyes in thought, "Anything. Is that burger place still open?"

"Yup."

"You think they still have that triple stack bacon burger?"

Jongin sighed and got up from the mention of food, "I'll go get my wallet."

"Wow! Is Jonginnie buying? That's a new one. Usually when we go out he doesn't even bring it." Chanyeol clapped with a chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

"He lost a bet." Kyungsoo explained, looking over the back of the couch at where Jongin rustled in his messenger bag.

"What was the bet?"

"If Sehun was gonna wear a designer coat when we saw him." He replied, his giggle hot and heavy.

"Jonginnie, why would you bet against that? Everyone who ever met Sehun knows that he doesn't wear anything else." The tall man's joy mingled with Kyungsoo's, his deep voice gleeful.

Jongin met his eyes, low and sunken with ache, "I don't know. I guess I can't say no to Kyungsoo. Even if I know I'm gonna lose."

All the boys burst into a choir of laughter, besides Kyungsoo, who quickly turned back to face the television. Jongin must have had a bit of resentment when he's less composed. Kyungsoo wasn't drunk enough to ignore it.

In an unplanned turn of events that lasted another hour, Kyungsoo found himself cracking open another case of beer after their food had arrived. Despite the looming threat of acid reflux and the inevitable hangover, their cheers filled the room, drowning out the movie playing in the background. Their attention shifted from the screen to the laborious task of setting up the fold-out bed for Sehun and Junmyeon, a process that involved more chaos than coordination.

Junmyeon, already half-asleep, mumbled, "You never told me what was wrong." his words barely audible as Kyungsoo draped a duvet over him.

"It was nothing important. I promise." Kyungsoo reassured him, gently tucking the blanket over his shoulders. Sehun, curled up beside him, was already lost to the realm of dreams. Kyungsoo steadied himself, placing two glasses of water on the coffee table nearby, too intoxicated and lazy to clean up the mess of fast food they had made. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would tackle the cleanup.

"Goodnight~," Jongdae and Chanyeol sang out, stumbling into their respective spaces. Kyungsoo swore Jongdae still had his shoes on.

Jongin, looking somewhat disheveled and debauched, leaned against Kyungsoo's bedroom door, his eyes half-closed and his shirt collar pulled low. Kyungsoo handed him a glass of water, but Jongin seemed more interested in being inside the room. So Kyungsoo allowed him to shut the door behind them, closing off the world outside for the night.

 Jongin was oddly consistent, a trait that betrayed his true intentions. His honesty bordered on naivety, making him an open book to anyone astute enough to decipher his emotions. Still, despite it all, Kyungsoo had the flaw of predictability as well, and had nothing to say as Jongin surged to capture his lips.

It wasn't a kiss that became anything other than what it was, so Kyungsoo kissed him back. Jongin sighed and let the breath separate them, choosing to sit on the bed as Kyungsoo began his nighttime routine. It was a domestic scene littered with a tragic innocence.

The beer, with its deceivingly mild alcohol content, still managed to weave its intoxicating spell, especially when consumed in copious amounts within a short span of time, and Kyungsoo felt it, sprawled on his bed, his vision blurred as he stared vacantly at the ceiling after brushing his teeth. Beside him, Jongin lay, his sobriety somewhere on the carpeted floor.

Much to his drunken dismay, Kyungsoo suddenly realized that Jongin was talking, or perhaps preaching, his words flowing like a river. Kyungsoo had tuned it out, lost in a battle against sleep. He forced his heavy eyes to focus on the boy beside him, observing the way his lips moved to form words. Counting the constellations etched on his bronze skin, noting the subtle tone variations where his muscles stretched over him.

He reveled in the sight of Jongin's long hair clinging to his sweaty forehead and curling against his flushed cheeks. His nose, straight but not overly large, and his eyelids, lazily drooping over his eyes, gave him a perpetually tired appearance. It was an intimate moment, captured in the hazy glow of drunken fondness.

"Jongin." He said suddenly, not knowing entirely why he said it.

Jongin sluggishly turned to face him, he was close, "Oh-Huh?"

"Can you try something?"

"What is it?"

"Can you recite a verse? Any verse." He asked, experimental.

Jongin blinked at him, then formed an unshakeable grin, "What brought this on? Are you so drunk that God spoke to you or something?"

"I just want to hear one. I know you have a bunch. You write them down for me all the time."

"I do, don't I?" Jongin answered, voice small as he turned inward into the comforter. Kyungsoo was drunk but even he could tell the other boy was at his level or even worse. He propped his chin up with his palm, "Hmmm, lemme think of one. One that suits this moment."

"It can be about anything."

"Here's one." Jongin cleared his throat, "Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour."

He shouldered him playfully, "What does that even mean?"

 Jongin hummed only for a moment then asked, "You want a different one? One that's more about you?"

"About me? Go for it."

"You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you."

Kyungsoo was suddenly not laughing, his mind racing in overdrive as this flood of affection hit him. He was far too inebriated to articulate anything remotely intellectual at that moment. A mixture of disgust, anger, and sympathy churned in his chest, rendering him speechless as he stared at Jongin with wide eyes and a frantic pulse. He didn't know why he was still shocked to hear the boy's blatency.

Jongin was unphased, motionless, "Song of Solomon 4:7."

"You're ridiculous."

Jongin twisted, pressing himself into Kyungsoo's ribs, his arms wrapping around his back and his face buried in Kyungsoo's collarbone. "Thank you."

"I'm not beautiful. I'm a man. You always call me pretty and beautiful..."

Though he was still woozy, the thought of sleep eluded him, clouded with Jongin's confession. Kyungsoo absentmindedly stroked his fingers through the dark locks, feeling the warmth from Jongin's steady breath on his neck and chest. He wondered if Jongin was falling asleep, but before he could ask, the other broke the silence first.

"You're beautiful to me, y'know?" Jongin muttered, "You're my best friend."

"You usually don't call your friend's beautiful."

Jongin shifted in his spot and peered up at Kyungsoo, "Why not say it when it's true? I think Baekhyun's singing is beautiful. What's the difference?"

Kyungsoo met his gaze and stared down at Jongin, their faces almost touching the same air. He could tell the other's eyes were glossy from the alcohol, and his eyes briefly flicked to the tempting pink of Jongin's lips, but he quickly shifted his gaze away from the morbid curiosity.

"Saying someone's voice is beautiful is different than their looks."

"You're really, so, so pretty."

"That's enough, Nini." Kyungsoo gently freed himself from Jongin's grasp, only a little flushed from the praise, "We need to get out of these clothes and into our pajamas. We're so drunk we crawled into bed wearing our jeans."

Jongin groaned into the covers, "Let's just sleep like this, please."

Kyungsoo suppressed the heaviness in his chest and tried to focus on the task at hand, changing into his bedtime attire that was strewn over the hamper.

"Get up, get out of those clothes so I can fold them," Kyungsoo commanded, his voice firm, as he approached the bed.

Jongin made a feeble attempt to sit at the edge of the bed, facing Kyungsoo. His eyes were glazed over, his lips stained a bitten mauve. Every exposed inch of his skin seemed to be blushing, from his cheeks to his neck, and even the tan shoulder peeking out from his slipping shirt. The sight sent a tumult of thoughts swirling through Kyungsoo's mind, but he pushed the inappropriate musings aside, determined to maintain his composure.

Jongin weakly tugged at the tucked-in part of his tunic, stretching the fabric recklessly. Kyungsoo moved forward to intervene, his hands deftly lifting Jongin's top. With careful precision, he freed the shirt from the confines of Jongin's waistband, ensuring the fabric remained unharmed.

Folding it twice, Kyungsoo set it aside, his gaze lingering on Jongin's slender frame. He noticed the broadness of Jongin's ribcage, an oddly masculine feature against his otherwise delicate appearance. The bronze hue of his skin seemed almost fake, giving him an otherworldly aura. As Jongin's hair fell freely around his face, escaping the remnants of gel, he looked vulnerable and real, shedding the façade of perfection.

In the haze of their drunken vulnerability, Kyungsoo's eyes were drawn to a dark purple mark etched on Jongin's collarbone, surrounded by lighter bruises like morose stars. His gaze trailed down the intricate patterns of hurt and up to meet Jongin's wavering eyes.

"Did someone give you these?" Kyungsoo asked, swallowing something bitter that surged within him.

Jongin attempted to inspect the marks, but his drunken stupor hindered his view. "Oh, are they bad?" His voice, laden with ignorance, only fueled Kyungsoo's irrational anger.

"Who gave you these?" 

"I think it was...Soojung. From choir." Jongin confessed truthfully, his voice lacking something essential.

"Who..." Kyungsoo swallowed hard, his voice caught in his throat, "Are you guys doing stuff together?"

Jongin said nothing, swaying gently as if moved by an invisible breeze, maintaining spineless eye contact. He blinked, then giggled,  "It's nothing serious. It was once and just as a casual thing. Nothing became of it."

He giggled. Kyungsoo couldn't fathom how Jongin had the audacity to chuckle when he was clearly struggling. How could he be so carefree? 

"How long ago was this?"

"Like, a few days ago?"

He faltered even more, if it was possible, "Why didn't you tell me? You tell me everything."

"I just...I don't know. It wasn't anything serious." Jongin bit his lip, "Just kiss me, Soo."

 His mind raced, no longer tethered to reason. Using his knuckles, he traced the sun-kissed skin and the enticing slope of his clavicle. Kyungsoo breathed through his nose, leaning forward into the hollow of Jongin's throat.

His skin smelled earthy, but safe. He lingered there for a moment too long, just lurking, his heartbeat practically leaping out to knock some sense into his head. 

His lips brushed the warm skin, so light—

He pulled away, standing completely upright and running an exasperated hand through his hair. "Did you fuck her?" he spat.

Jongin just kept his eyes on him, His face held a vague expression, if any at all. "No. We just...messed around. I told you it was nothing. I thought we had a rule about that. We could hook up with other people but not fuck them, right?"

Why did he have to say that? Now Kyungsoo really had to contend with his conscious, which was already difficult because it was irrational, lust-driven, and jealous. Not while his best friend stared up at him so naively, so carelessly indifferent. Kyungsoo didn't deserve to leave a mark on the man before him, yet the urge was stronger than ever. The psychology of why that was scared him, yet he couldn't deny its presence.

"If we get with other people, we're not supposed to keep...doing this with eachother, Jongin."

"Why not?"

"The rule was that this ends when we have interest in someone else."

"I don't have an interest in her."

"Then why did you get with her?"

"Why did you get with Sohee, or Lee Jaein? Remember? It's the same thing, Soo."

It's not the same, he thought, You're not like me. You're better. He advanced once more, returning to the spot where his lips had grazed. It shouldn't matter. This was nothing, right? Like it was always intended to be.

Jongin didn't move away; he just sat there, patiently, as Kyungsoo's logic slipped through his fingers. His fingers trembled as he placed one of them on Jongin's other shoulder and then went in for the kill, crossing the point of no return.

He started slowly, taking the plush skin between his teeth and nibbling softly, then he pursed his lips and sucked, swiping his tongue across the chosen area with practiced expertise. His nerves transformed into something more, something bordering on sinister. For once, he wanted Jongin to writhe. He wanted to show him that playing this game had no winners, and that he couldn't be so reckless. He would make it unforgettable.

The intensity escalated as Kyungsoo released the abused spot with a soft pop, running his tongue over the darkened area in a long stripe. Then he kissed it, once and one more time. He leaned back to observe his handiwork, and there it was—a beautiful indigo circle planted squarely on Jongin's right side.

A self-satisfied smirk threatened his lips as he witnessed Jongin's cheeks flush a darker shade of red and his lips part slightly for shallow breaths. The hickey outshone the smaller ones on his chest by a mile. If it was possible, Jongin looked slightly affected by it.

"The marking rule," Kyungsoo commented, his voice a tad hoarse from the emotions swirling within him. "I'm breaking this one tonight."

Jongin wore an unreadable expression. "Give me another one, then." he mumbled, his calm demeanor giving way to something more turbulent. It kindled the darkness within Kyungsoo; if a demonic energy was there, it was within him then, taking over as a green-eyed monster.

He dove in for a third time, this time heeding no warning before kissing up and down his neck. Suckling behind his ear and kissing the mark from before, Jongin had instinctively moved backwards as Kyungsoo straddled him. One hand one his shoulder and the other placed on the bed, easing the boy lower In a not so subtle display of dominance, but not fully overpowering him.

He moved his hand to the boys chest, sliding a brave hand downward but then back up. Jongin did nothing but suck in through his teeth in retaliation, Kyungsoo could feel his stomach harden from the touch. A smile threatened his lips as he continued to destroy the boys jugular and smother the violet skin in kisses.

Then something spectacular occurred, because in that very moment a small breathy sound emitted from Jongin. Not loud enough to be a solid moan, but too loud to be just a harsh breath. It heated Kyungsoo's stomach and this time he could not hold back a sound of his own. He retreated off of the other abruptly, standing back to take in the holy view.

Jongin was leaned back on his elbows as his bare chest lay accessible and littered up to his neck in violet stamps. His eyes leered straight ahead and his face was an obvious scarlet tinge that was spread all over, He looked like he was on the way to being wrecked, and Kyungsoo felt so so so vile for the wave of satisfaction. He did that. He was the one who made an angel look like that, not that girl or anyone else.

Then again, Kyungsoo had fallen off the brink of sensability, so he gestured to the empty side of the bed behind the other.

"Get in bed, you should drink some water."

Jongin lay stunned, "I forgot about sleep." was all he said, shuffling to reach the pillow.

The rustle of blankets reached his ears, and then a wave of warmth engulfed his side as they descended back onto the blankets. Jongin was so near, his arm slithering around Kyungsoo's stomach, his head descending like the weight of an impending storm, an elbow planted perilously close to Kyungsoo's temple.

Jongin hovered above him, his hair brushing Kyungsoo's face,  veil descending upon him. His front was freckled with purple--Kyungsoo's doing. Their rule was mainly Kyungsoo telling Jongin not to leave any evidence, he had never been the one to cave. Something was wrong with him tonight.

"Are you upset?" 

"No." Kyungsoo lied, head spinning on a swivel. He wasn't sure why the thought of Jongin with that girl turned him off. It wasn't the first time either of them had gotten with other people, and yet...

"You are. I can tell you are. What's wrong?"

"I think..." The smaller struggled with his grasp on language, "If you're going to be with a girl, you should let me know."

"Huh? Soo, I'm not with anyone else. I don't...do this with anyone else." 

"You just told me you did," Kyungsoo replied.

The scent of ale emanated from Jongin, the lingering remnants of intoxication, the only thing preventing Kyungsoo from abandoning all caution was the thought of her. He turned off the light.

"I told you-she's nobody. It was a small get together at Baek's apartment and things just...happened." Jongin, for once, hated confessing in the dark, and switched the light back on over him. His eyes focused on Kyungsoo, dark brows pressed in concern, "I promise. I would never have sex with her...we just kissed. We kissed and it wasn't sex."

"I thought we talked about ending this when we wanted to fuck other people." Kyungsoo said harshly, inhibition gone. He sat up and let Jongin fall to the side, reaching for the lampshade once more. He didn't want to see the other boy in the warm light. He looked sad, and for lack of a better word, beautiful.

"The rule was that we could get with other people, but not fuck them, Kyungsoo. You made the rule when you got with that girl last summer." The pianist was back again, stuck to his skin like a parasite. His voice was so pleading that he felt bad, "I don't know what any of the rules even mean anymore. Just, don't be mad at me. I don't want our night to be ruined."

Kyungsoo forgot about all those girls, so how did Jongin remember? They were faceless now, just a mirage of dark hair and fair skin.

"Our night isn't ruined, I'm just going to sleep." 

"Can we talk about it?"

"There's nothing else to say."

"You're a bad drunk liar."

Eternally, he was caught off guard by Jongin's straight forwardness as he sat completely upright and palmed Kyungsoo's bulge through his pants. The smaller inhaled sharply, blinking erratically in the hazy room. He understood then.

"I get what you want now." Kyungsoo was brazen after a few beers. It was how this routine started in the first place. It was the only way he could fathom the situation, the sinful instances he molded with his bare hands, crafting a recipe for imminent disaster and unattainable delicacy. He let the boy touch him, desperate, as if it was an apology, "You think we aren't finished yet."

"You're so mean when you drink." Jongin whined against his lips, unforgiving and only half truthful, Kyungsoo was meaner when he was sober, "You can't leave all these marks on me and expect me to be able to sleep. Come take care of me."

"I need to stop giving you what you want."

"You never give me what I want." Jongin smiled into his mouth.

Hands started to roam over eachother and Kyungsoo planted a fist in Jongin's hair, another one around the boys waist, which was halfway onto his. Jongin still had his elbow planted deep into the mattress, but the other hand was cupping the smaller's face so fondly it made his heart lurch. Jongin was much more reserved in that way, where he caressed and took his sweet time grazing over the raven haired boy as the smaller attacked his lips.

"What do you want then, Nini?"

A pause, "You."

Kyungsoo was growing impatient, smoothing his hand up and down the curvature of Jongin's spine and brushing through his hair in desperation. Their tongues still dancing, breathing heavier now. Kyungsoo would normally be horrified that his pants were growing tighter by the second, but that's why drunken nights held so much more fervor, because he didn't care.

In one brief flash, Kyungsoo was straddling his waist. Sitting right on top of Jongin's narrow hips, and he knew that there was no way he didn't feel what he was hiding now. The weight added a level of pleasure he wasn't expecting, and he moved his weight upward experimentally. The friction lasted a second, but he held back a groan as the heated kissing lasted a lifetime.

It lasted for minutes on end, just stroking and kissing and the occasional grind that left them both speechless. Their panting was more audible now, they worked themselves up without even meaning to. They still had to be mindful of his housemates, which is why they could only make moves in subtle haste.

"You're so bold when you drink too. Mean and bold." the taller one murmured softly, his words tinged with a jesting tone. Kyungsoo was well aware of Jongin's eagerness, especially when he found himself at the center of attention, receiving something as seemingly simple as affection. To Jongin, the moment must have felt like a gift, cloaked in the fog of veiled excuses.

"You still talk too much." 

Jongin reclined against the pillows, his chestnut hair in disarray, creating a chaotic tapestry upon the cushions and sticking to his flushed cheek. His lips, vibrant and swollen from their shared indulgence, proudly displayed the aftermath of their fervor in a colorful array of love bites. In the illuminating glow, the bronzed young man sported a bashful grin, promptly shielding his eyes with his forearm.

The instinctive response was a direct result of Kyungsoo's penetrating gaze, which focused intently on the captivating enigma that this peculiar circumstance had become. A momentary lapse in Kyungsoo's rationality gave way, his devilish instincts taking hold as he placed a hand upon Jongin's cross necklace, pressing down forcefully in a fervent moment of possession. 

Kyungsoo felt Jongin's reaction like a drug, the way the boy drew in a sharp breath and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes still glazed over. He appeared corrupt, warm and flushed, too celestial to be merely reticent.

Kyungsoo, knowing he was not playing fair, purposely wanted the boy beneath him to lose his composure, to become needy. Now that Kyungsoo could finally see him, he felt an irresistible urge to make Jongin writhe. Any response, from a mere breath to a guttural moan, would be enough for Kyungsoo tonight.

"You're always telling me I talk too-" Jongin began, his complaint cut off with a short gasp as the smaller dryly grinded down with more strength. The taller's hands shot up to Kyungsoo's waist and held. He fluttered his eyes shut, "Fuck, Soo. You don't know how good you look. How can I not say anything when you look this good?"

Despite the fact that nothing had happened yet, Jongin already sounded like a hot mess. Kyungsoo attempted to banish thoughts of others who might have seen him like this, choosing instead to concentrate on the realization that he was one of the privileged few. Gently, he brushed Jongin's bangs away from his eyes, allowing him to behold the entirety of his divine face.

"You should see yourself." Is all he replied, swinging his leg up and off of the boys waist. There was Jongin's full length under those slacks, the outline was evident and straining against the fabric.

"How do I look, Soo?"

"Like you really fucking want it."

That earned a gentle moan from Jongin, he was so whiny, "I do want it. Whatever you'll give me."

I'll give you anything, Kyungsoo thought egotistically. Again and again. He would never say it out loud.

He perched his head down to the waistband and began to kneel down, careful not to stare at Jongin's face too long so that he didn't risk the boy covering it again. Plus it was hard to focus on anything else while the boy's crotch was there a centimeter away from his sight. Inching the cinched band lower and lower, uncovering a dark thicket, and even below that.

His cock was a decent size, uncut and very much alive as it twitched the very juncture it nudged the air. Kyungsoo paid no mind to the lick of incalescense in his lower region, and instead readjusted himself so he was better suited to plant a provoking peck to the aching tip. Jongin's hand came down to sweep dark strands out of Kyungsoo's line of sight, and the act of intimacy forced him to hurry up before he started to overthink.

Holding it at the base, he took it completely in his mouth. All the way to the back of his throat, which he relaxed on instinct.

He kept his hand on Kyungsoo's forehead acting as a headband, tensing up every time Kyungsoo enveloped the whole member into his mouth.

"You're so good. Always so good to me." Jongin strangled out. It was a lie. An airy gust of laughter came out from within him sounding rushed and a bit hysterical.

It egged him to go faster and suck a little harder, creating a steady rhythm and occasionally shooting Jongin a coy glance just to see the boy shudder and dart his eyes away. This was heaven for him. He tasted sweet and natural, still gallant but very much Jongin. Spit was dripping down the shaft and pooling over his bottom lip, down Jongin's hardy thighs. The slick was making it so much easier to glide up and down, each time his cock hitting deeper.

Jongin tensed and Kyungsoo felt it over his tongue, "Fuck-Soo, don't do that."

The sounds were like music to his ears, the pleasant coos and laments of gratification inflated every part of Kyungsoo that made him whole. He was almost certain a fucked up part of him could be relieved just from doing this to his friend, especially while Jongin's hand grappled into his scalp and gave a blissful tug every time he went down to the hilt.

"Kyungsoo, I don't want to finish without you..." The latter unanticipatedly griped after another jolt, "Please, please."

"Going to come already?" Kyungsoo tormented, voice gruff as he popped off with spit-slicked lips.

"Yes. Yes. I'm about to-"

It took nothing else for Kyungsoo to immediately veer up and kiss Jongin's begging out of his mouth, then scatter more over his cheeks and chin. The latter guffawed at the sudden puppy love, it was a very tipsy sound but genuine even so. He relished the sound as he turned the laughter back into a breathy moan, all from his lips latching to the skin behind his ear.

"I want to go down on you, too." Jongin moved his hips up to gain friction. Kyungsoo really did spoil him too much. The boy couldn't even be patient.

"It's okay. I'm already close."

"Let me see for myself." The taller's fingers wrapped around Kyungsoo's heat, still clothed and straining against the cotton pants. He swallowed and ducked his head into Jongin's collar bone at the sensation. He hadn't realized how pushed over the edge he had been from just watching Jongin take it.

"Does it feel good like this?"

"Fuck-"

"I want to hear you. Don't hold yourself back this time, please."

"Jonginnie-"

"Good job, baby."

 It was all so much at once, and the known sensation of twisting heat in his abdomen commenced after six strokes, their bottom-halves flushed together in sweat and ropes of white. Another rule was broken: pet names. Jongin never cared. He slipped up every month and a half.

He would have been humiliated at how quick he was unraveled, but the alcohol saved him from that as well, and he had just enough sense to roll off of Jongin and retrieve the tissues next to his nightstand. His heart was about to pop out of his body.

"Sorry that was...fast." He muttered, wiping ivory drops off of Jongin's bare chest. 

Jongin just chuckled and hoisted his underwear back up, "Sorry I didn't really get to do anything other than touch you."

"That was enough." Kyungsoo wished that the lights were off, "Looking at you is enough for me."

"Oh." Jongin uttered, eyes widening a little at the confession. He let Kyungsoo hide in the dip of his shoulder, the light how officially off and enveloping them in darkness. His heart was pounding as well, right into Kyungsoo's ear.

The lull sent him off to the brink of sleep, and he murmured, delusional, "Don't get with that Soojung girl anymore."

"Okay, Soo."

_________

In the labyrinth of Kyungsoo's romantic history, Jongin was an erratic heartbeat pulsating through the arteries of his life. Long gone was Jisoo, the girl who had colored his world before fleeing to the land of finance and opportunity. Her departure marked a turning point, a seismic shift in the landscape of his heart, leaving him with the lingering ache of lost first love. At least, it was as close to love as he could imagine.

She was a studious girl, tall and straight flowing long hair to her mid-back. She was utterly gorgeous, in an attainable way. Everyone in town knew she was out of Kyungsoo's league, and yet, their relationship lasted about over two years. His parents loved her, his friends loved her. It was the first time him and Jongin detatched and quelled their sexual ties. It was an unspoken thing, and yet he never forgot about it.

Jongin, too, had navigated the intricate maze of relationships, his path crossing with girls from church or admirers from school. The romantic ties between them had always been delicate threads, woven into the fabric of their friendship. Yet, unlike Kyungsoo, Jongin had never quite embraced Jisoo, perceiving her as a barrier, and as Chanyeol would mock to their faces: A rival for Kyungsoo's attention.

"She's always calling you so late, Soo. She's not respectful of your schedule." Jongin would lament deep into one of their sleepovers, his voice carrying a hint of judgement, a silent begging for the smaller to agree. But Kyungsoo, blissfully unaware, couldn't fathom his best friend harboring anything negative towards someone he liked. In a way, he thought Jisoo and Jongin were very alike.

"She has school all day, we can only catch up during the week through the phone. We don't talk long, but you can go home If you want."

"Ouch."

"You know what I mean. No one wants to listen to their friend sweet talk a girl." Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and would get up from the bed to the machine, and like always, he was lost in the cacophony of his busy life, failing to realize the significance of late-night calls and the void they sought to fill.

"I'll just play on your pinball machine or something. Tell her I say hello." His voice fell flat.

"We won't be long I promise," Kyungsoo singsonged further. He would laugh into the reciever, not seeing Jongin deflate and wallow on his comforter. It was the same comforter that they would make-out on not even a month later after Jisoo broke it off with him.

Yet, as Kyungsoo's romantic dalliances ebbed and flowed, he found solace in the familiar rhythm of their dance, a well-rehearsed routine, with no end in sight. Every romantic lull, was a means to pull eachother into bed and quench the lonliness with hot hands and meaningless words. It felt like a maze of bad decisions, and it was the largest burden that weighed on his chest.

It was hidden from everyone he knew, and it would stay that way for as long as he could help it.

Which is why, he hardly got any sleep thinking about the the knowing eyes of God, and the feeling of Jongin's hot breath over his ear, moaning his name.