rustle | exo: one heart is never enough alone (3/3) (Reply)

Jongin gently pries Soojung's fingers from her shot glass and tells her to keep her hands to herself. Not even an hour into dinner yet and almost all of them are drunk, if not a bit buzzed. The results are varying – Soojung becomes more indulgent in Chanyeol's bad jokes after one too many shots of soju. Kyungsoo talks more, too, and hits people less. Sunyoung has enough courage to move closer to Kyungsoo, too, and that keeps Jongin distracted for a while until Chanyeol almost knocks over the bottle of soju that they've just opened.

"Maybe you should stop drinking, hyung," Jongin says, wrapping his fingers around the bottle and very carefully putting it somewhere not within Chanyeol's reach. The distance varies – when Chanyeol's standing up, everything's within reach, but when he's sitting down and pressed close to Soojung, he can't even budge an inch. "No, hyung, seriously. You're drunk–"

"Not drunk," Chanyeol replies, grinning. There's a bit of kimchi in his teeth. Soojung seems to find that amusing; Jongin thinks it's gross. Across the table, Baekhyun calls Jongin's attention, asks him to pour them another round. "That guy over there? The one with Joonmyun-hyung?" Chanyeol adds, hiccuping. "He's the one who's drunk."

"Says the guy with laughable tolerance!" Baekhyun retorts.

"Says the guy who got shitfaced with beer last year!" Chanyeol says right back. Baekhyun sticks his middle finger up in the air and Joonmyun laughs in response.

Jongin does act like the nice dongsaeng that he is. He stands from his seat, pouring everyone a drink (yes, even Chanyeol). He walks over to where Baekhyun and Joonmyun are, pressed so close together, and fixes his eyes on the liquid trickling from the mouth of the bottle. "Good to know you aren't a lightweight," comes Joonmyun's voice, soothing as ever, but it's a notch lower than the usual. It makes Jongin's insides turn and his hand jerk a little.

"Whoops. Careful there, buddy," Baekhyun says. He reaches over, offering a hand, but Jongin shakes his head. "You sure you're alright?"

Jongin laughs a little. Funny you should ask, he wants to say, but decides against it. He may not have the worst tolerance but his self-control is shit after a few good shots of soju. "Yeah. I'm good, hyung. Don't worry."

He places Baekhyun's filled shot glass in front of him and Joonmyun reaches for his wrist, giving it a light squeeze. "I can pour some for myself," Joonmyun says, but his eyes say something else. Something along the lines of, you don't have to do this, Jongin, please don't torture yourself–

"I'm good," he says, slower this time, as if being more careful with enunciating his words. Kyungsoo will probably be so fucking proud of him if he wasn't getting shitfaced with Sunyoung. "I mean it, hyung. I can go home on my own if I had to."

"You don't–" Joonmyun says, then gives Jongin a curt nod when he hands Joonmyun the shot glass. "You don't have to leave–"

"I won't," he says. His mind's a mess right now that he isn't sure if that came out clearly instead of sounding like a gurgle or something. He makes his way back to his side of the table, far from the two, and takes a shot. Takes another as soon as the liquid goes down. Fishes for his phone from his pocket and texts Zitao, jonign s consfused!! he hit himslef n conufusiong!!!!111

hey bro u need me to pick u up or something? Zitao replies not more than a few seconds after.

no m gdu
*UGD
*GOOD GODAMMIT

He pours himself another shot and watches as Chanyeol snatches it from him to toast with Soojung. Across the table, Joonmyun laughs at whatever Baekhyun is saying, but leans back into his seat when Baekhyun reaches out to cup his cheek. Baekhyun still succeeds, but not without almost jabbing Joonmyun in the fact. Now that makes Jongin laugh a little.

He looks at his phone and feels a dull pang in his chest. There it is again, good ol' alcohol at work. He types as fast as his fingers can map out, m so confused amn idk wattodo

drink :) is Zitao's helpful advice, so he pours himself another shot and relishes in the feeling of the hot liquid scoring a line down his throat. This type of pain is better than the dull ache in his jaw that reminds him of Joonmyun's lips. It's better than anything Joonmyun makes him feel.

♬ ♬ ♬

"Fuck," Jongin groans. He feels around for his glasses and ends up knocking over his alarm and pushing it off the tale. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

It's a Saturday, which means the best time to catch breakfast is at nine in the morning. Too late for that, though, Jongin muses as he checks the time once more – 10:48, it reads. If he hadn't stayed out until 2 a.m. then he wouldn't have had to stay dead to the world until almost eleven in the morning. If he just stopped drinking after their third bottle then he won't have to deal with a nasty headache in the morning. If he hadn't made sure that all the other members were able to get to their dorms safely then he wouldn't have had to try to keep himself from throwing up on the floor and then let everything out in his bathroom.

Oh well, he thinks. At least he doesn't feel all queasy now. And it was easy to clean up his bathroom after that unfortunate event. He feels around for his phone and finds 3 missed calls, all from Zitao. He types up a quick message, then, and says, hey i'm alive sorry for last night.

YOU SCARED ME U ASSHOLE THE LAST THING U TEXTED WAS A CRYING FACE u owe me lunch kk c u.

So twelve noon finds Jongin in the cafeteria with Zitao, wearing sunglasses indoors. "Ah, the fresh face of a hangover," Zitao says as a greeting, then envelops him in a hug. It's tight enough that Jongin feels a weird, dull ache in his arms when Zitao pulls away and drops his hands to his side, but loose enough that Jongin can still breathe. He buries his face in the crook of Zitao's neck long after they've stopped hugging.

"I feel so stupid," he begins, groaning. Zitao chuckles. The vibrations make Jongin's head hurt all the more, but chest feels oddly light. "But I'm also happy? And confused. And weird."

"You're just hungry," Zitao offers, pinching Jongin stomach in the process. He rests both hands on Jongin's shoulders and gives him a gentle push forward, in the direction of the buffet table. "Okay, come on, I'm hungry. Time to eat now!"

Zitao becomes quiet company over lunch. It's a bit comforting, this brand of silence. Jongin doesn't even feel the need to explain until he sees a familiar figure enter the cafeteria from a corner of his eye. He ducks at first, trying to hide, but his brain still feels as if there's gallons of alcohol in it that he can't even do any rapid movement for fear of cultivating an even greater headache.

"Y'know, it would help if you didn't look away. He wouldn't have noticed," Zitao whispers. Jongin looks up again, nonetheless, and gives Joonmyun a casual wave, one that doesn't shake up his mind and stir his senses.

"I see you have a migraine," Joonmyun says when he reaches Jongin and Zitao's table. His voice is soft, barely above a whisper. He addresses Zitao with a smile, then turns back to Jongin to ask. "Can I… sit with you two?"

No, you can't. You can't sit with us after Baekhyun-hyung almost climbed onto your lap last night and almost kissed you senseless, Jongin wants to say, but it sounds stupid even if only in his head. It makes him sound like some kid whining to his mommy because he took my candy away! And to be fair, Baekhyun had the candy first in physical form. It's just that Jongin has been pining for the candy for years already and didn't have the means to buy it.

"Sure," he says, instead, because that's the only response that doesn't require much change in his facial expression. Joonmyun excuses himself to grab some food and asks if the two want anything from the lot. Zitao says he wants chips. Jongin doesn't say anything out loud but says in his mind, I just want you to stay here and not go away.

"This'll be an interesting lunch," Zitao mumbles. He turns back to his phone when Jongin kicks him under the table and says nothing else after that.

Joonmyun does return with snacks and candies for Zitao and Jongin. He asks Zitao about his day, then, ask him if he tuned in to the week-long program. Asked him if he participated in the discussions. He turns to Jongin with a frown when Jongin confesses to not addressing Zitao's song request, but in his defense, "It was requested in the previous show. We can't do multiples within an hour of each other!" It makes sense. It's something he has learned from one of Joonmyun's 'How to be a Good DJ' videos, the fourth installment in the series. It's the only thing keeping him from playing Snow Patrol's entire discography on loop throughout the program.

"Jongin did really great," Joonmyun comments somewhere along the way, after popping the last mulmandu in his mouth. Under the table, he links their ankles together, and this time Jongin's breath hitches. He widens his eyes as if saying, Hyung, there's someone else in here. You can't– But then Joonmyun has never good with interpreting Jongin's panicked sentences, or his misbehaving hands. Joonmyun never listens long enough and, instead, swallows all the sounds dripping from Jongin's lips in a kiss.

"The song was my favorite," Jongin says, the grin on his lips triumphant, if not a bit childish. Joonmyun cocks an eyebrow at him and holds his gaze for a while, then pulls his foot away, sitting up straight. It's like a safe word, that if either of them ever thinks of pushing the boundaries without clearing things up, the other just has to say it. Then Joonmyun will be brought back to his senses and a violent breath of life will be thrust into his lungs.

Joonmyun looks away and shakes his head, stuffing his mouth with food instead of catching Jongin off-guard with a reply. Already, Jongin feels like regretting ever thinking of forcing a response out of Joonmyun, an trying to get an explanation to something even he doesn't understand yet. Joonmyun looks up at him only briefly, through the slits of his bangs, as if in punishment. He huffs.

"The audience loved it," Joonmyun says. Zitao's eyes haven't stopped flitting between them in an effort to figure things out before Jongin even attempts to explain what happened last night. "Maybe we should do… another collaboration sometime. After your finals–"

Jongin's ears perk up. "A collaboration?" he asks, just in case he was imagining things earlier. He can't be too sure these days, especially after that incident in the corridor. Joonmyun hums, nodding, and Jongin takes it as a sign to go on. "After my finals?"

"After my paper defense, too. So once those are out of the way, we can concentrate on the collaboration. Only if you want to, though," Joonmyun says. He worries his bottom lip and pokes holes at the slice of tteok in front of him. Poor tteok, Jongin says. He knows how it feels to be pricked, both by a stick and by Joonmyun. "I mean, I don't want to impose–"

At least use a different line, hyung, Jongin almost says, but he manages to keep it together and reply with, "You're not imposing, hyung. Never." A sip of his drink, then he adds, "You're never an inconvenience."

Under the table, Joonmyun foot jerks forward – whether it's voluntary or otherwise, Jongin can't tell. He needs more food in his system and less alcohol. Maybe he needs some fresh air, as well. Joonmyun is silent for a moment, but maybe that's because he's finally taken the tteokbokki into his mouth and chewing it, seething between munches.

Joonmyun's lips are a nice shade of red. There's a smidgen of gochujang at a corner of his lips. Jongin wonders how it would feel, licking the spicy paste off of Joonmyun's lips. Joonmyun probably has the ability to turn spicy sauces sweet. Joonmyun scowls, though, and that's what snaps Jongin out of his reverie, what makes him realize that Joonmyun is tugging at his ankle again, pulling him closer, like there's something he can do about the table keeping them apart.

Zitao drinks his tea with a loud, sloppy noise that makes Jongin wince. When he turns to look at Zitao, Zitao raises an eyebrow at him. Zitao leans close and whispers, "We have to talk."

♬ ♬ ♬

Talking means munching on Combos only thirty minutes after taking Joonmyun to his dorm and telling him, Sorry, hyung, I really can't stay. I have to take a dump and it'll be embarrassing, I swear to God– It's the best way to ward Joonmyun off, he supposes, but even that doesn't deter Joonmyun from laughing at him and whispering, "Silly kid. You're really cute." Zitao cocks an eyebrow at that, but at least he doesn't clear his throat in an effort to break the spell and bring Jongin back to reality.

What he does do is snatch the bag of Combos from Jongin, seal it, and make Jongin face him on his bed. "Okay. Talk. I'm all ears," Zitao says. His DS is feet away from him. "I won't comment on anything. I'll just listen."

Jongin takes a deep breath. He doesn't know where to start.

So he narrates the story backwards, starts with the kiss. "And we really kissed this time, tongue and all," he mumbles, voice faint enough that it doesn't echo in his ears but just loud enough for Zitao to hear. Zitao leans closer, eyes wide cheeks tugging up in what looks like a smile behind the hand he clasps on his mouth. "It happened after the program. Remember what we said on air the second time we boarded? That we'll do something really special for the listeners if they make 'DJ Kai' trend at any point in the last ten minutes of the program? The fuckers did it. Just minutes after I said that and even after the show."

Zitao snorts, chuckles. Jongin waits for a few words, but promptly remembers Zitao's statement – no comments. He continues, then, saying, "So we sang the next time we boarded. Hyung looked really… I dunno, nervous? He was sort of shaking before and during the performance and I was kinda enjoying myself so I didn't really pay attention to it until I heard him almost crack–"

Zitao raises an eyebrow at him and draws two lines from his eyes to the base of his cheeks. Jongin shakes his head and says, "No, he didn't cry. But he really looked mortified then. It doesn't suit him, man. It was the worst look on him."

Jongin recalls that split-second of panic in Joonmyun's features, the way his eyes widened not in shock, but in fear. He recalls the light tremble in his voice that he was able to salvage by doing five key changes in one long syllable. Recalls the relief in Joonmyun's features when people started tweeting exclamation points and hearts with the hashtag #DJSuhoFTW. Recalls the way a smile surfaced on his lips when he finally felt comfortable in his own skin and how it tugged so hard at Jongin's heartstrings, he almost felt like he was going to explode.

"So after signing off, I… sort of apologized. No, I mean, I really did," he continues. "He said it was okay and I didn't know what to do next because he was walking away already and I sort of forced him to answer my question while we were on our way out of the booth."

Zitao raises his hand as if saying, Okay, I have a question. Break time. "But the cameras–"

"All turned off. And that happened in the pathway to the exit. It was… dark. So yeah, I asked him why he still did it and he said that he thought it had something to do with saving me? Then–" Jongin scratches the back of his neck, massages it. Just thinking about what happened makes him feel sore all over. "Then he said he couldn't say no and he doesn't… know what to do with me. And then he kissed me."

And then Jongin feels Joonmyun's lips on his again and shit, it makes his insides turn. Makes him want to sprint to the next building just to barge into Joonmyun's shared room with Chanyeol and kiss him again because it feels so good. It felt so good and so right, like there was nothing else that Joonmyun wanted to do at that moment but to kiss him.

"And then?" Zitao asks. "Did you two–"

"We had to join the other guys for dinner. Baekhyun-hyung stole him from me and they were inseparable the whole time," he groans.

Zitao nods, slow and thoughtful. "Did they do any hanky-panky, though? In public? I mean, if they did then that's a clear sign already that–"

"That's the thing," Jongin interrupts. Joonmyun hadn't even touched Baekhyun the whole night save for when Baekhyun almost tripped on his feet on their way back to the school. Baekhyun said it was because he smelled so much of perfume that he was feeling dizzy. Jongin knew it was bullshit; he just wanted to hold Joonmyun's hand. "Baekhyun-hyung… tried to do something, I guess? But Joonmyun-hyung kept pushing him away."

"But in your stories before, he'd reciprocate, right? I mean, even just by… touching Baekhyun-hyung's face or something."

It was my face that Joonmyun-hyung touched, not his, Jongin wants to argue. He doesn't. Zitao doesn't need to know that. Maybe Baekhyun does, but Jongin doesn't owe him anything. So instead, he says, "Yeah, something like that." He allows himself to fall flat on his back and close his eyes. The thumping in his temples hasn't stopped yet. Maybe it never will. "Sometimes close to that."

"Man, he's weird," Zitao mumbles. "I'm sorry, I know you adore him and all but he's confusing as fuck."

"Adore?" Jongin laughs a little. "I don't know about that."

Adoration is something you feel for a crush, so maybe Zitao's right. Just not completely right, because somewhere between the time Jongin met Joonmyun in the flesh and that moment back in the sound booth, they became friends, helped each other get through academic hurdles and, maybe indirectly, a few obstacles in life. The things Joonmyun taught him about DJing? He was able to apply those in real life. And he'd like to think that the small acts of kindness he'd done for Joonmyun sparked a bit of change in Joonmyun, as well.

Joonmyun doesn't sleep late anymore. Or at least that's what Chanyeol says. He doesn't skip meals anymore, either, because what would Jonginnie do if he found out you were starving yourself in the name of academics, hyung?, Jongin remembers Chanyeol saying. So it's not just adoration. He has a very vague idea of the word for it, for whatever it is that he feels for Joonmyun, but he's not sure if he can come to terms with using it yet. Admitting it to himself will only make it real, and he's not sure if he's ready for a feeling so strong to hit him again and make him plummet to the ground hard and fast.

"You have a 'thing' for him, then," Zitao corrects. "And I think he has a 'thing' for you, too, but… He kinda seems confused, himself."

Zitao lies down beside Jongin, bumping his hips into Jongin's own to make more space on the bed for himself. Half of Zitao's bed is littered with stuffed toys, so Jongin snatches the one closest to him, hugs it close to his chest. It's a cute Pikachu plushie. Fuck Pikachu, really.

"Even this guy can't electrocute me out of confusion," Jongin says, laughing a little. It comes out scratchy, a bit choked. He can feel the strain in his throat.

Zitao grabs another plushie from his collection and tackles Jongin's Pikachu with a Jigglypuff. "Let the power of sparkles rule all, man. Just… have faith, I guess. Hope for the best."

Jongin takes a deep breath. It's a bit more difficult with him lying flat on his back, but that doesn't matter – it's not as if trying to still the heavy thumping in his chest is any easier when he's sitting or standing up, spine snapped straight.

He falls asleep a few quiet minutes after, and wakes up to the sight of a sleeping Zitao beside him, drool pooling on one side. He runs his fingers through Zitao's hair and whispers, "Wish I could be as wise as you are." Zitao leans into the touch, smiling, so Jongin ruffles his hair some more, massages Zitao's scalp. Stays there until Zitao stops moving around and falls into a deeper slumber. He pulls away, then, and scribbles a thank you note, tacking it to Zitao's forehead. He gives Zitao one last look over his shoulder before locking the door behind him.

In the silence of his own room, he stares at his DS and pulls up a different game, loads Dragon Quest instead of Pokemon because he can't even play the game anymore without thinking of Joonmyun – the way he squeals in excitement when they mega-evolve one of the third generation Pokemon, the way the corners of his mouth pull up when they manage to defeat a gym leader hand-in-hand.

The way Joonmyun turns to him with bright eyes and an even brighter smile, snatching all of the air in his lungs and dangling it in front of him, not giving it back until he agrees to have dinner with him. And the way Jongin lets Joonmyun have his way and doesn't ask for anything in return.

♬ ♬ ♬

Jongin spends more time than the usual in the library at the height of midterm week. Zitao's presence makes the white noise more bearable, makes the silence not seem as if it's trying to eat him whole then spit him out soon after. Soojung joins them from time to time, as well, and sometimes even Taemin finds time to sit in their table instead of somewhere else. It's easy to tune out the noise when there's academics to focus on, the pressure of having to be perfect and not make mistakes heavy on his shoulders.

It's easier to flush out unwanted memories, as well, snapshots of a night he both wants to commit to memory forever and to forget.

Soojung stretches her arms over her head and almost hits the back of Jongin's head. She mumbles an apology, tone flat, almost dead, until a text message comes in. Her face lights up almost in an instant, like there's a switch that has been flicked on and has been broken since, never to be turned off again. Soojung wears that same silly grin until the end of their study session, until they have to attend their Introduction to Sound class after lunch. Even the lull of the afternoon does nothing to dampen Soojung's now heightened spirits. It almost makes Jongin want to throw up.

On their way to class, Soojung nudges him in his side, whispering in his ear, "You look dead. What's up?"

Definitely not his dick, he wants to say. He hasn't seen Joonmyun in a few days, but that's not because Joonmyun has been avoiding him. There's always academics to blame but right now, it's him who's making an effort to stay away, it's hilarious. If, before, he was the one who was always seeking Joonmyun out, trying to spend more time with him or at least be within a five-foot radius of him, now the mere thought of being in the same area as Joonmyun is... It doesn't repulse him, but it doesn't make him comfortable, either. It makes him feel weird and unwanted things that he'd rather flush out of his system, then return to come end of the week.

It's like pausing a video halfway through the story because you feel too sleepy and drained to continue then returning to it the following day, feeling refreshed. Renewed. Possibly re-energized and with more enthusiasm to tackle it because you can see clearly now, can see better. The spots that you thought were in black and white before are now in color.

"Just acads. So many things to do, so little time." He lets out a loud exhale, and cracks his neck. The sound makes Soojung wince. At least she knows her hearing's at its prime in time for Sound class. It'll come in handy. "And man, broadcasting week fried my brain. I think I've exhausted every bit of spontaneity in me."

What he means is that broadcasting week exhausted him to the point of sucking out his enthusiasm to ever set foot in the sound booth again. Too many memories are attached to that room, that hall, to the person he constantly boarded with throughout the week. He can't dissociate radio from Joonmyun now. He can't even listen to some songs that they played on air without thinking, Ah, hyung liked that one, or Hyung looked hilarious jamming to that song; I better listen to Hanson more. The thoughts would occur to him in the middle of a study session sometimes. Often, there's no good reason. 'Joonmyun Thoughts' occur to him like air in the atmosphere – unavoidable. Essential to living.

"You did well, though," Soojung comments. Beside her, Zitao raises two thumbs up. Jongin's surprised he can even muster a reply after powering through a few tracks for practice editing. "Don't take this the wrong way but I definitely didn't think you'd be that good."

Jongin snorts. "I don't think anyone of us did," he confesses. "I was always the token smart kid with academic talents and nothing else. The… classic dork, yeah."

Soojung rests a palm on his shoulder for a while but quickly regrets it when her other arm, cradling a pile of books, gives away. "Well you've got other talents now, kid." She raises both eyebrows at Jongin and offers him a smile that reaches the corners of her eyes. "Be proud."

Broadcasting training pays off, though, Jongin muses as he sits in Sound class and catches a few cracks and the faintest of noise in the sound wave they're asked to work on. Manually cleaning a sound wave is easy, but when you're limited to just five actions all in all, sound equalizing included, it becomes more difficult than it should be. Jongin manages to nail it three steps in with sound equalizing, determining the noise threshold only after a few playbacks. He finishes the practical exam in thirty minutes and waits outside the room, slumped against the wall.

He doesn't realize that he has already passed out until he feels someone sit down beside him, a smaller body. The scent is familiar, but not so much that Jongin finds himself resting his head on that person's shoulder so easily. It is familiar enough, though, to bring back a few memories – the suffocating scent of panic and arousal and heat in the air, the scent of coffee and a snack bar in one breath. The scent of eucalyptus in a man's hair and his scalp.

The scent of sweat and excitement and coffee breath all in one mix, sliding next to him, inching closer with every breath he takes.

"Sorry," comes a familiar voice when Jongin's body gives a tiny jerk. He looks to his side with wide eyes, but he feels the tension in his eyebrows ease as soon as his vision refocuses. "I tried not moving around that much but... you seemed uncomfortable–" Joonmyun's voice trails off and Jongin finds it fitting to make full use of that opportunity, to surrender to the allure of Joonmyun's shoulders and let fatigue get the better of him. "J-j-jongin?"

"You're comfy," Jongin mumbles. He hears Joonmyun's loud gulp, the hitch in his breath. He hears the loud thumping of his pulse at the back of his ears, as well. "Five minutes. Just. Stay."

This is the closest he's been to Joonmyun in days, the closest ever since that night they were pressed against each other in that narrow corridor. It feels foreign, the light trembling of Joonmyun's body, but at the same time it feels like coming home, albeit having just moved to a new house. It's not as if he's had much opportunity to grab Joonmyun by the wrist and hold him close or back him up against the wall – the midterm madness made it easy to not seek the warmth of Joonmyun's smile, body, lips. Gave Jongin an excuse to escape from whatever it was that they had to face and gave him an excuse to keep himself from trying to figure out that all-encompassing word to describe this feeling.

He takes a deep breath and tilts his head up a little, nose pressed to the underside of Joonmyun's jaw. He feels the shift in Joonmyun's muscles and thinks, there's no escaping this, Jongin. And you're not running away from this, either, hyung.

"Have you even been getting any rest at all?" Joonmyun asks after a while, once the tension in his shoulders has lifted.

Jongin hums in response, unsure of what to say. He has been getting a few (read: two) hours of sleep on a daily basis, and that's more than enough to get him through most of the tough study sessions. His heart, however, has constantly been running in his chest, banging against its walls in an attempt to escape. At one point, he had to lay off the coffee and substitute it with lemon water which proved to be useful in the long run. Hot chocolate made him feel sleepy and too comfortable in his seat; coffee made him jittery as fuck and reminded him of Joonmyun.

So yes, lemon water has been his savior these past few days. And he has been getting some rest. The question is if he's feeling well-rested or refreshed, and with this set up – Joonmyun threading his fingers through Jongin's hair, tilting his head a little so he can blow hot breath on the crown on Jongin's hair – Jongin can say 'yes' without a doubt in his mind.

"Eating a lot? Playing Pokemon?" Joonmyun continues.

"Yes, and no," Jongin replies. He opens his eyes, pinches Joonmyun in his stomach. Joonmyun makes this tiny giggling sound that sounds a bit like gurgling. It's cute. "I promised, hyung, that I won't play it unless you're around–"

Joonmyun laughs a little. "Well I have been pretty unavailable–"

"Are you, though?" Jongin asks. He shifts in his seat but does sit up straight, not yet. He likes how Joonmyun's warm breath on his scalp feels. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy and full. "Unavailable, I mean. Taken. Or something."

Joonmyun tenses for a moment, then he's massaging Jongin's scalp. Jongin risks a glance at his wrist watch – it's been a good twenty minutes since he's finished the exam. Knowing Zitao's focus and the current state of his stamina, he'll be done in ten minutes, five if he's lucky. Soojung will be done in a minute or two, he's positive. That gives him enough time, though, to move closer, feel the warmth of Joonmyun's body pressed against him even more. This is a warmth he won't mind falling asleep to on a regular basis. Joonmyun's uneven breathing can be the song that sings him to sleep.

"No, I'm not," Joonmyun answers. It's Jongin's turn to tense, eyes bolting open. "I'm not unavailable. But it's... complicated."

Jongin groans. 'Complicated' is supposed to be for exams and academics and sound waves, not for emotions. He doesn't want to deal with 'complicated' right now, during midterm week. It's not that his brain can't handle it – it can, but he can't promise positive results. He can't even train his Pokemon during hell week without overwriting some moves and attacks and he's been playing for, what, five years? Maybe even more? That doesn't come with any complication at all.

"It doesn't have to be complicated, hyung," Jongin says. He wants to move away, remove himself from the fit of their bodies, but that will mean losing the warm presence beside him and Joonmyun falling to his side. Now if they could fix that and make Joonmyun fall elsewhere– "Either you are or you aren't. There shouldn't be any in-betweens."

Joonmyun laughs a little. "I wish it was that simple." He takes a deep breath. "Nothing's ever simple with–"

"Oh hey, oppa." Jongin looks up and meets Soojung in the eye. There's something there, in the heavy gaze that speaks more than just a mix of fatigue and relief that she's finally finished the exam. There's a bit of… surprise? Or maybe amusement. Jongin can't see clearly right now. Maybe that's a sign that he shouldn't even be dealing with non-academic things. "Jongin, you finished early. Don't tell me you got to clean the waves in three actions."

Jongin gives her a wink – or at least the closest to a wink he can muster, because he doesn't want to be engaged in any movement that requires much effort – then holds a peace sign close to his cheeks. "I am the sound master, Kim Jongin!"

Beside him, Joonmyun hums. "Three actions, though? Really? That means you got the noise threshold right on the first try, then cleaned up some… sibilances and plosives on the second?"

Jongin gives Joonmyun a small nod and mumbles an apology when he almost hits Joonmyun in the chin. He's almost forgotten that he has his head on Joonmyun's shoulder; Joonmyun beside him feels like a normal extension of himself.

"And then… equalizing as the last action, is that right?" Joonmyun finishes.

"Yes, yes, and yes," Jongin answers, grinning. The pull at the corners of his mouth doesn't sting, but his throat feels tight and dry, like Joonmyun has his fingers wrapped around that instead of his wrists. "So yes, all the practice clean ups paid off and no, I am not doing sound design for free." He worries his bottom lip. Cleaning up waves doesn't require much effort if your ears are trained to detect even the faintest of noises. But maybe he should charge if he does decide to make money out of editing. "And yes, Soojung, you owe me ice cream."

Joonmyun chuckles this time. Jongin can feel the vibrations of Joonmyun's lips against his scalp. It sends a funny feeling to the pit of his stomach, but that can just be hunger speaking. Joonmyun would be the simmering scream clawing at his throat, threatening to spill from his lips. "I can buy you ice cream."

"You didn't make a bet with me, though?" Jongin replies. He looks up at Joonmyun, meeting Joonmyun's gaze. It almost makes him cross-eyed. Joonmyun does him a favor and closes his eyes with a swipe of his warm hand.

"I owe you a lot," is the only thing Joonmyun says in reply. Soojung rants about distractions in the room and dammit, I could've gotten it in under five steps! Zitao joins them soon after, and Joonmyun tags along with them on their way to the cafeteria to grab their first real meal of the day.

A real meal means bibimbap and copious amounts of kimchi for four people. Joonmyun offers to get them seaweed soup and Jongin only gives him a weak smile in response. When Jongin turns back to his food, he catches Zitao looking at him, eyes sharp and focused. "Don't say it. I'm telling you, if you're thinking of saying something, don't," he declares. He feels a scratch in his throat, just near the tonsils. He feels something lodge itself in his throat. "I'm serious. Just… let it pass."

"I'm not doing anything," Zitao mumbles. He still has food in his mouth, and it garbles his speech. Jongin gestures at the corners of Zitao's mouth, and Zitao plucks the stray grains of rice from his lips. "Soojung isn't doing anything, either. I mean, we're just sitting here, watching you two flirt or whatever and waiting for you to 'legit coo' at him–"

Jongin rolls his eyes. "Shut up, Zitao."

Joonmyun isn't that far from them, just a few feet away, but he's balancing four bowls on a tray. For a minute, Jongin is concerned about the welfare of the soup – Joonmyun has shitty balance, after all – but that gets flushed out of his system when Joonmyun meets his gaze and smiles at him. Something in his stomach tumbles again, and shit, he muses, he's got to grow up. Only kids feel all sorts of weird things for their crushes and not-just-crushes.

"You can help him," Soojung begins. She gives him a shit-eating grin and Jongin has never wanted to threaten Soojung with putting too much gochujang in her tteokbokki in his entire life. "We won't judge. Or laugh at you. Or coo. At least we'll try not to."

"You two are the worst," he says, seething. He stands from his seat and helps Joonmyun with the tray because apparently, he also got them coffee. Jongin doesn't even drink coffee when he isn't studying but maybe he should, now. Joonmyun tastes like coffee, anyway, and he liked that in the dark. He likes the way Joonmyun's mouth tastes of so many things so uniquely Joonmyun. "I'll find new friends next sem and you two will regret it."

Zitao waves a hand in the air and dismisses whatever threats Jongin has, then returns to eating his ramyun. Jongin's all bark and no bite, anyway. Or maybe he does bite. Just baby dog bites that don't sting much.

Joonmyun hangs around a little longer and does Jongin the favor of finishing his black coffee for him. "Sorry. I keep forgetting you like sweet things," Joonmyun mumbles, eyebrows furrowed a little and a small, apologetic smile on his lips. He isn't even supposed to have things like this memorized but okay, Jongin supposes. If a kiss means Joonmyun's supposed to regard him in a different manner now because he's decided to take action on whatever feelings he's harboring for Jongin, then fine. Jongin doesn't mind.

He doesn't. It just makes him feel more antsy and restless because he knows he stands a chance. He knows that there's a 1% chance of triumphing over Baekhyun if they do duke it out for Joonmyun's heart. Jongin can imagine it now – a Pokemon battle sequence with a level 5 Magikarp recently acquired through the guy in the Pokemon Center versus a level 80 Gyarados who has just mega-evolved. Who cares if Gyarados looks like a lame shrimp when he goes from hero to a mega hero; he's still more powerful and intimidating that way. And here Jongin is, flapping about, trying to take out the many Baekpponents in his way so that he can finally evolve into a Gyarados. Maybe then he'll have a bigger chance at carving himself a happy place in Joonmyun's heart.

This isn't a game, Jongin, he reminds himself. Opposite him, Zitao says, "The kimchi's not doing anything to you. Stop staring at it like it's trying to attack you or something."

He sees Baekhyun's face in the flimsy piece of kimchi. He pokes it with his chopsticks before popping it in his mouth. That's the closest he can get to 'revenge'.

Joonmyun excuses himself for a consultation session with Jonghyun, and Jongin bolts from his seat and offers to accompany him to the faculty. He gives Zitao and Soojung a careful look, saying, "I'll deal with you two later," then ruffles Zitao's hair before he leaves. Joonmyun only laughs at him, doesn't even tell him off for making Zitao shriek a little at the mess Jongin has made. Zitao was asking for it, really; Joonmyun hadn't asked Jongin to tag along with him, but a part of Jongin wants to believe that Joonmyun wants to ask for something that he just can't express in words.

"You didn't have to, you know," Joonmyun mumbles as they walk along the corridor. He pulls Jongin close to his side when Jongin almost bumps into someone. Jongin whispers a 'thank you' in response. "You… probably should've stayed there with your friends or gone back to your dorm to rest–"

"And if you really wanted to see Kim-sonsaengnim then we wouldn't be walking along this corridor," Jongin replies. He stops in front of Joonmyun, smiling a little. His eyes feel heavy but his heart feels oddly light, especially when he sees Joonmyun's shoulders fall forward. "What do you need, hyung?"

Joonmyun leans against the wall closest to him and lets out a loud exhale. There's fatigue in the way his cheeks pull down even when he breathes back in, weariness in the way he tries to smile, tries really hard but falls a bit short. "What you said earlier, about not complicating things–" He bites the inside of his cheek and Jongin finds himself doing the same. "You're right. It shouldn't be this messy. But I guess that's… not my style? Something I've yet to learn, at least."

Jongin nods in thought. He wants to ask, what are you trying to say, hyung? but that will just drive Joonmyun away. As it is, Joonmyun already seems so torn, tense and taut like the string of a bow. Like he wants to be in two places at the same time even if crossing the border of the other means he'll only get himself into trouble. Jongin knows how that feels, the push and pull of emotions inside you. It's more difficult than boarding without any idea of what to discuss. It's more difficult than finding the right noise gate and making sure that no dissonance to a good wave form interrupts the sound.

"What I'm trying to say is… that I'm a mess, and that you probably shouldn't be getting yourself involved in messy things," Joonmyun finishes. He clenches his fists, knuckles turning pale, then he looks up at Jongin. His eyes look more solemn than ever. Tired, worn out. Like he hasn't slept in days and has been working on his thesis the whole time, maybe even more. "You're a wonderful kid and–"

"I'm not a kid, hyung," Jongin argues. He takes Joonmyun's hands in his, shivering when he feels the cool press of Joonmyun's skin against his warm palms. "So you can't tell me what and what not to do. This is my life, hyung, and if I want to get involved in this 'mess' then that's my problem!" He laughs, albeit bitter, and the sound claws at his throat. It comes out scratchy. This is the noise, Jongin thinks, the dissonance. This is the type of sound that should be cleaned up through the noise gate. This isn't music. "And I can deal with it, hyung. I can deal with feeling all these weird things for you and trying not to overwhelm you with… whatever I'm feeling. I can try to control myself, hyung. I can be not an inconvenience."

Joonmyun tears his eyes from Jongin's and looks to his side. Jongin reaches out, tracing the curve of Joonmyun's cheek with his fingers. "You're not an inconvenience," Joonmyun replies. "You've never been one. You're just–"

A kid. Your biggest fan. And fan-idol relationships never end up happy, Jongin finishes in his head. He takes a deep breath, then, bracing himself for the inevitable. It's only a matter of time until Joonmyun tells him off for being a weird and creepy fan, anyway. Jongin saw it coming from a mile way.

"You're too precious, Jongin. Too important." Joonmyun traps his bottom lip between his teeth, then presses his lips thinly together. "You shouldn't be a mess. Don't– Don't be like me, Jongin. Save yourself while you still can."

Jongin laughs. "What if I don't want to be saved? Or what if–" He gulps hard, and he catches Joonmyun following the bobbing motion of his Adam's apple. You can't tell me you don't feel the same way, hyung. "What if you're the only who can save me?"

Joonmyun takess a deep, shaky breath, air passing noisily through his nose. "Then I'm warning you now, Jongin: we'll drown. And it won't be easy swimming back up."

Drowning can mean a lot of things – wallowing in the pit of something awful or delightful. It can mean the end. It can mean that if Jongin does continue being his stupid self then he's just setting himself up for failure and Joonmyun's just letting him know that. FYI, Jongin, you're digging your own grave by falling in love with me. But there's the element of 'we', like if Jongin ever waved his hands above the surface, Joonmyun would take the plunge and try to save him even if he didn't know how to swim. All Jongin had to do was to say the magic word and Joonmyun would jump right in without thinking twice.

"Hit me with your best shot, hyung," Jongin says. Joonmyun purses his lips, jabs him in the stomach, but it doesn't sting. It doesn't even leave a dull ache in his muscles. Joonmyun jabs him again, like a morse code that Jongin can't understand. "I may not be the best swimmer but I can try. For you." He doesn't say, for us.

"Silly kid," Joonmyun whispers. He leans forward, resting his forehead on Jongin's chest, then repeats. "You silly kid, I don't know what to do with you."

"Keep me around, hyung," Jongin replies, poking Joonmyun's cheek. "This kid won't be going anywhere without his favorite playmate."

Joonmyun looks up at him, lips tugged down in a frown now, but there are lights dancing in his eyes and Jongin just knows, he knows that Joonmyun's struggling to keep this look plastered on his face. So he pulls away, drops his hands to his side, then tugs at Joonmyun's wrist. "Come on, I'll take you to the faculty room," he says. "I want to see sonsaengnim, too."

Joonmyun cocks an eyebrow at him. "I thought you hated cinematography?"

Jongin lets out a loud exhale. "Nah. The hate's just for show," he says. "I love it. A lot."

He keeps his eyes glued to Joonmyun's own, but if anything it's the pull of Joonmyun's gaze that's keeping him there, pinned in place, with nowhere to escape to. So he stares right back into Joonmyun's eyes and gets lost in them, drowning with Joonmyun.

Joonmyun wriggles his hand free of Jongin's grip and slips his fingers between Jongin's own, instead. Jongin forgets to breathe.

♬ ♬ ♬

Wednesday marks the end of the midterm torture. It isn't as bad as Jongin had imagined – he was supposed to still have an exam on Friday, but the professor decided to hold practicals on Wednesday, instead. He finished his first and second exams for two different subjects early (read: ten minutes before the bell, also ten minutes before Soojung did), so that gave him enough time to recharge in between classes. That gives him two free days this week, which is more than enough rest for him. With the past few weeks being rife with tension and pressure to deliver and do their jobs well, even just a five-minute respite will do. Sleeping was a leisure that time.

Now, he thinks as he collapses in bed after his last exam, he won't have to feel guilty about getting more rest than necessary and oversleeping. Thank God for free days. Thank God for stress-free days, as well.

He wakes up to a Viber message from Sehun – three different messages of varying states of urgency. The first is a series of sad emoticons, and the second message says aaaaaa why is life like this idk i'm rly sad. The third is more concise and curt, straightforward. It's where Jongin gets the strongest sense of urgency, though – hey jongin, u free to skype?

hey bro sorry just woke up, he types in reply. It's only eight in the morning; the best breakfast treats won't be available until nine in the morning. He has time to Skype.

He boots his laptop, then, and goes online on the messenger. It takes no more than five minutes for Sehun's Skype icon to turn from white to green, and for a notification to pop up at a corner of his screen. Jongin clenches his fists. It's been so long since he's last seen Sehun, so long since they've last talked to each other. If Sehun found a way to make time for Jongin then this must be important. Maybe he's in deep shit, got caught doing drugs or fucking a girl in public. Option 'deep shit' seems more plausible.

The familiar tune of a Skype call blares in his speakers, and he hits the green phone button as soon as he sees it. "Hey bud," he says, voice barely above a whisper. It's not deliberate – his throat feels so tight and dry right now, he might as well be hoarse. He'd rather be hoarse right now than to talk to Sehun in this state, or in any state at all.

The display blurs for a second, then Sehun's face appears on screen. He looks up at the camera and gives him a weak wave. "Hey. I missed you."

Jongin's first instinct is to push himself away from his laptop; his second, to bury his face in his hands and will himself to disappear. He manages not to, though, but his heart's still a mess. It's been weeks since he last saw Sehun, since he last heard this voice and tried to play it in his head, again and again until it lulled him to sleep. And while in all those weeks, he's either been busy with school or with Joonmyun, Sehun's ghost pops up in his mind at inopportune times – while he's taking an exam, while he's studying, during one of the study sessions and when Joonmyun's gaze lingers a second longer than the usual. You'd think that a long period of absence will work wonders on a healing heart but it doesn't. Not for Jongin. If anything, it's just aggravated his longing for–

For what? Jongin asks himself. You know you won't you get what you want from him, ever, Jongin, so what are are you doing? Why are you doing this?

He raises a hand, motions to reach out but props his chin on it, instead. He has to help himself, somehow. Circumstance won't always be on his side; he has to take conscious steps to distance his heart from Sehun but keep his body here, right where Sehun needs him.

"Haven't seen you in a while," Jongin replies after a while. He takes a deep breath. "You look bad. Are you drunk?"

Sehun laughs a little. Bites his lower lip a bit too hard that he leaves a bright, red mark there when he lets his lower lip go. He looks awful, to say the least. He looks wrecked and helpless and hopeless. This isn't anything like the Sehun he knows, because they've sailed through every tough time in life together. They've almost failed exams together, they've risen from the ashes together. And if there's anyone between the two of them who can handle stress better, it's Sehun. If Jongin complains about not getting enough sleep and powering through the day like a zombie, Sehun doesn't. Instead, he'd just work and work until he fell asleep then still be rife with life (or the closest to it) in the morning.

But this Sehun– Jongin doesn't know this guy in front of him. All he knows is that his heart feels heavy and that if he could reach out and hold Sehun closer to his chest right now, he would. He'd do anything for Sehun–

"I had a few bottles earlier," Sehun says, then hiccups. He sounds awful, as well. Like he's been thoroughly used by life and circumstance. "I bombed two midterms, Jongin. Well at least I felt like I did. I'm at the brink of losing my scholarship and–" Sehun rests his head on his clasped hands, voice coming out in low, choked sobs. "I've ruined my life just I thought I could do everything–"

Sehun takes him through the entire experience. He met a girl on his first day in school, fell in love with her. She's bright, talented, a great conversationalist. Jongin's only lacking in one out of three. Attraction was fast, and it pulled them closer and wove them together so tight that Sehun couldn't escape even if he wanted to. Even if he tried so hard. The thing was, he was drunk on being needed by this woman as much as he needed her. He didn't screw up two midterms – he got caught letting the girl copy. And when they were sent to the dean's office, the girl wouldn't take his side, even put all the blame on him.

The result? A week-long suspension from class. He'd miss all 24 units of them after midterm. He has a good enough class standing in most that he won't be in trouble, but fuck if that event doesn't affect his performance in class. It's not the blow he takes to his report card that bothers him the most; it's the blow to the ego that hurts. Here he was, trying to enjoy the best of both worlds only for all the nice things in his life to be taken away by that one girl who ruined him, made him think that he was the king of the world when, in fact, he was like everyone else – a student struggling to make it through college.

"You… you could've told me what you were going through, man," Jongin says. And then what? It's not as if he can make sure that Sehun drops all the hanky panky and starts getting serious with everything he does. Doesn't let anyone in his life again for fear of getting played one more time and ending up a mess of limbs. It's hard with all this distance between them. And really, he'd drop everything and take the first flight to London if he could, but–

"It's not your fault, Jongin. You couldn't have done anything, anyway," Sehun says. At the back of Jongin's mind, he hears, if you just pushed through with your promise to take the London scholarship with me then this wouldn't have happened. You'd have kept me on track and I'd have done the same for you. And maybe, just maybe, we could have–

Jongin takes a deep breath. No room for regrets now, at this late a stage. What's done is done. He tries to wipe the sad look off his own face, takes a deep breath and recalibrates. It shouldn't be too difficult now that he's had ample sleep, but the image of Sehun's face, so worn out and distraught, haunts him like an old ghost. Digs up old memories of when he couldn't even look at Sehun the way he used to, without any malice, because how would Sehun feel if he found out that everytime they bathed together, Jongin's eyes would linger on the dip of his back, the swell of his ass, or the grooves of his stomach?

Focus, he tells himself. That always seems to work. He opens his eyes, slowly this time, like if he opens them all at once he'll be hit by some strong light that will just blind him and bind him to this moment. Focus, Jongin. You've got this. Come on– "What do you… Is there anything you can do to get back on track? Do extra acad work for extra points?" Jongin asks.

Sehun's eyes widen just a little, but that can just be their faulty connection. Jongin latches onto that, nonetheless, a sliver of hope in the darkness. "I guess I could ask my professors if I could… do a bit of extra work. Or take my midterms again, but different problem sets? I dunno." Sehun scratches the back of his neck, but it's not the same slow motion like it's taking too much effort for him to move or even breathe. "There's no telling if they'll say yes but I guess it's worth a shot."

Jongin lets out a loud exhale. "No harm in trying," he offers.

Sehun cocks an eyebrow at him and the ghost of a smile tugs up the corners of his lips. "At least use a different line, kid," Sehun mumbles. "I may be buzzed but I can recognize the Sehun quotes from a mile away."

Jongin chuckles, and that triggers something in Sehun – sends a tickling sensation up his throat and elicits soft laughter from him? Or makes the small smile on his lips bloom into a wide grin that reaches the corners of his eyes? Whatever it is, Jongin can't tell yet, but all that matters right now is the light flush creeping from Sehun's neck up to the underside of his jaw, his cheeks, filling the rest of his face with color. There are still dark circles under his eyes, yes, but those are battle scars. And those kinds of marks don't just fade so easily. It will take time, Jongin supposes – weeks, months, or years, it doesn't matter. The truth is, all wounds heal. Some people just like the pain more than most and that takes away time from getting back to tip-top shape in the shortest time possible.

"Well, I guess you could say I learned from the best," Jongin says after a while.

Sehun's lips quirk up. "So you're saying– You're finally admitting–"

"That my mom is the best," Jongin quickly says. He sticks his tongue out at Sehun. "Of course she'd give birth to someone amazing. So you, Oh Sehun, should be damn honored that I am your friend and I'm stuck with you for the rest of my life."

The hard furrow of Sehun's eyebrows eases, and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes ease just a little. He looks more relaxed, more at ease, but his mouth is twisted as if he's caught between two things, tempted to say something and nothing at the same time. Sehun opts for the latter as he always does, shaking his head in response instead. So Jongin doesn't prod. Basks in this brand of silence that can only be theirs. He keep his chin propped on his hands and doesn't reach out across the screen. And Sehun stays there, on the other side, unmoving but moved, sounding more alive than he's been weeks.

♬ ♬ ♬

Relapse hits him ten times harder during lunch. It's feels a lot like one of those volleyball balls hitting him in the face during lunch break back in high school, or taking a shot to the groin during basketball class. Or a combination of both, really, because he feels sore all over and there's a dull ache in his chest. He stares at his food with very little interest and wonders if he can transfer emotions from the heart to a piece of tteok. He doesn't have to wait around for an answer – he knows it's stupid.

Zitao pushes a glass of cold chocolate drink in his direction and mentions, "No caramel because that's overkill." Jongin looks to his side and offers a weak smile.

It takes a while to finish his food the same way that it takes longer than the usual for his heart to catch up with his mind – Sehun still gets him in all the right places, and even in the wrong ones. Right after the call, he was reduced to a giggling mess on his bed. While taking a shower, he couldn't still stop laughing. It was only once he'd stepped out of the water, toweling himself dry, that he'd realized that if that didn't happen to Sehun, he might have not called at all. It makes sense – when you're busy and shit suddenly hits you, that's the only time you take a break and realize that you need to breathe. Jongin is that respite. And break time's over for Sehun, now.

"I feel used," Jongin groans. He takes a sip of the drink and huffs. "I thought you got me the one with whipped cream."

"FYI, that's supposed to be mine and I just gave it to you because you looked miserable?" Zitao answers. He wraps his fingers around the body of the drink, then pinches the straw still stuck between Jongin's lips. "If you don't want it then give it back! You don't have to force yourself to like it."

Jongin looks up, then looks intently at Zitao. "What did you say?"

Zitao furrows his eyebrows, but soon he raises one of them without easing the crease in his forehead by relaxing the other. "I said you don't have to force yourself to drink this if you don't like it without whipped cream. You'll just end up regretting the state of your tummy after."

"But it's still a chocolate drink. And you can't throw that away. I mean–" Jongin worries his bottom lip. So maybe that's it – he's the plain Jane version of the chocolate drink with whipped cream. He doesn't even have caramel drizzle on himself and Sehun loves caramel. But he just can't set aside his drink preference just to make way for Sehun. When you get used to something and find yourself falling in love with it, you stick to that. If something makes you feel good about yourself, you stick to it. That's why Zitao loves the ramyun in the cafeteria and Joonmyun likes his kimchi-stuffed mulmandu . That's why Soojung sits beside Chanyeol when they grab a meal outside. That's why Jongin keeps coming back to Joonmyun like a lost puppy – because Joonmyun has his favorite bone and he won't let it go.

Zitao nudges him in his side and says, "It's just a drink, Jongin."

"But it's my favorite drink."

Zitao takes a deep breath, like his patience is thinning and it's taking him every bit of restraint to not his Jongin on the back of his head. "It's just a drink."

It's just a drink. Drink preference changes. Jongin can't be stuck here forever.

He ends up taking the drink to the club room after, and buying one for Zitao before going on residency duty. He swipes his ID and the lock comes off with a dull click. There's light shuffling of feet inside. He hopes it isn't Baekhyun and Joonmyun.

"Oh, hey," comes a familiar voice. Jongin's ears perk up when he catches the familiar tone. "You're here."

Jongin tries to wear his best smile as he makes his way inside, shutting the door behind him. He hadn't expected someone else to be in the room at that time, but then Joonmyun kinda lives in this place sometimes that it shouldn't be a surprise anymore to find him here at odd hours. "Hey," he says in return, waving a little. It feels weird with Joonmyun in clothes too casual that he might as well be in his dorm room instead of here.

Joonmyun follows Jongin's gaze, then, and grabs a cardigan when he catches on. "Oh, sorry, I was– I slept here, hoping to get a lot of work done, because Chanyeol and the others were in my room doing their mixing thing and–"

"It's okay, hyung," Jongin replies. He looks around the room and takes a seat on the couch near Joonmyun's table. It smells a bit like him – coffee and eucalyptus, a combination of scents that Jongin has come to associate with a weird mix of peace and panic. It fits Joonmyun. "I hope you got a lot done. You seem–" At home in this place, he means to say, but he catches sight of the mess on the desk and Joonmyun's laptop sitting on top the pile of papers. Maybe not home, then, but the outfit just takes away the academic feel from the entire scenario. "You seem to have had a productive night?"

"Yeah, I'm down to the last few sections of my paper." Joonmyun stretches his arms over his head and his shirt rides up a little, revealing a hint of the flesh underneath the shirt. Joonmyun's skin is glowing under this light, and Joonmyun is glowing even with his hair all tousled and mussed up, even with his cheeks red and marked with tiny squares. He must have fallen asleep on his laptop. Good thing it hadn't broken down or anything. "I'm hoping to get it done before the break so that I'll have time to revise, if Kim-sonsaengnim ever catches errors here and there."

"Oh wow." Jongin nods in thought. Just a few weeks ago, Joonmyun made him do some mock broadcast that was supposed to help in his thesis, and now he's almost done with it. And he hasn't skipped on the weekly updates in his Youtube channel. "You're a monster, hyung. How do you even– How do you manage to do all these things? I mean, live a double-life and all?"

Joonmyun laughs, sinking back in his seat and making himself comfortable by folding his legs under his weight. "You just get used to it," Joonmyun says. He transfers his laptop to a paper-less side of his desk, then shuffles the papers together in a neat pile. He has some trouble fixing some of the papers with staple wires, but in two minutes flat he transforms his desk from being a wasteland to a real desk. One where humans can work on. "The weekly recommendations are my excuse to go online and unwind by looking for new music. And well, this paper…" Joonmyun laughs a little. "I worked on the same thing last year but had to stop halfway through because of something. So it only makes sense that rewriting and finishing it won't take as much time as it did before."

Jongin stops rummaging through his things and looks up at Joonmyun, meeting his gaze. "You stopped studying, hyung?"

"I wouldn't say I stopped? I just dropped my second thesis class, then focused on the other subjects." He takes a deep breath, clenches and unclenches his hands with his palms rested on the body of his laptop. "Two years before that, I shifted from film to broadcasting, so you could just imagine the delays." He laughs, then, albeit a bit scratchy. It sounds fuller than before, though. Jongin wonders, then, what the hitch of the breath is for. "I just… needed to focus on my thesis and nothing else. I need to be in a certain state of mind to write it properly."

Jongin blinks a few times, then nods when he can't find the right words to say. "Seems scary," Jongin comments after a while, once Joonmyun has stopped playing with his hands.

"It is," Joonmyun replies. "Especially when you take a part of your life and turn it into the anchor of your thesis." He shakes his head this time, like he can't believe himself or what he's saying. "Then you torture yourself by constantly returning to certain points in that part of your life that scar you because that what your thesis is about."

"And the worst part is that you have to take an objective stand on the matter?" Jongin asks. Joonmyun nods, lips pressed thinly together.

Jongin has half the mind to ask what even crossed Joonmyun's crazy mind when he decided to do that, but there are some things better left unsaid – the understated attraction between them and between Jongin and Sehun, the fact that Baekhyu and Joonmyun have a thing going on but they won't dare put a label to whatever they have. The fact that Soojung is completely enamoured with Chanyeol for an unknown reason and that she succumbs to Chanyeol at the first sign of a request. The fact that Kyungsoo tries twice as hard to engage in conversation with people when Sunyoung is around.

Jongin waits – for the thought at the back of his mind to dissipate completely, for Joonmyun to drop the subject and change the topic. For the words threatening to stumble from his lips to stop haunting him and pounding at the back of his teeth, waiting for an enunciation. But it doesn't happen. Instead, Joonmyun just stays silent there, staring at his monitor, worrying his lower lip.

"Do you… want to talk about it, hyung?" Jongin asks.

Something flickers in Joonmyun's eyes. He meets Jongin's careful gaze and asks, "Are you sure you want to know? Sometimes… Sometimes it's better if you don't know things." He chuckles. "Keeps the magic in place, right there," he adds, then taps his temples. "Sometimes I just–"

Jongin clenches his fists. Maybe the magic isn't what either of them need right now. Magic clouds judgment sometimes. And besides, what's there to hide? They've practically rubbed up against each other right after broadcast. It's like peeling off a layer of yourself, showing a more vulnerable side of you to the other. Down goes wall number one.

Jongin repeats, slower this time, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Joonmyun lets out a sigh. "I guess so," he whispers. He swallows hard, then says, "I owe you an explanation after making you board as part of my thesis, after all."

Jongin leans forward, hands clasped together. He props his chin there and grins. "Hit me, hyung. I'm all yours."

To say that Joonmyun's life two, three years ago was messy is an understatement – it was chaotic. Joonmyun tells him about his parents getting into an accident on a rainy spring day. It's weird to be celebrating someone's death anniversary but they'd agreed to meet up for dinner for that, to commemorate the death of Joonmyun's brother. Then something came up at school and his parents ended up volunteering to pick him up from the university since the campus is on the way, anyway.

"They were supposed to turn a corner. They were, what, two blocks away? And then some black car came speeding past the red light and ran into my parents' car. Smashed our car and his right into a lamppost." Joonmyun takes a deep breath and does something, anything with his nails – bites at the corners, brushes his nails together – in an effort to distract himself from the pain of the memory. "They could've survived if they got out at once. Or at least they would've had a chance of surviving, but the asshole driver walked up to them and talked shit on them while they were writhing in pain in the car."

Jongin feels his throat tighten, feels his chest constrict. He's not supposed to know these things. These are… personal, the type Joonmyun would probably only tell his closest friends, not some freshman who'd walked up to him months ago and told him that he was his biggest fan. Jongin isn't even sure what they're supposed to be, if they're just 'really close friends' and not more.

He gulps down hard. Joonmyun's lips are trembling and Jongin can see beads of tears at the corners of Joonmyun's eyes. They don't fall down his cheeks. Instead, Joonmyun blinks them away.

"Then one bad thing led to another. The car started leaking gas and of course it would be so convenient to have a live wire in the area. And then the car blew up. The flames ate up my parents' bodies and the asshole just stood there, watching." Joonmyun snorts. "Turns out he's some hotshot government official who was rushing to get to a meeting, using his number code to bypass traffic lights and end lives."

"Hyung–" Something lodges itself in Jongin's throat and whatever he's supposed to say next gets choked down. He reaches out, then, and Joonmyun offers a small smile in return. Wheels himself closer to Jongin while sitting on the computer chair.

"And you know how the media– How the media plays these things up–" Joonmyun chokes a little in his speech when he takes another deep breath. "They were pointing their fingers at us, telling the court that it was my parents' fault that they got into the crash. I mean, they were in the right of way. It's obvious – the impact would've been on the left side of the car had the government guy's car not been the one to run into ours. It's so– All the facts were pointing to the government official but since he was in that post–"

"He fucked you guys up," Jongin finishes. He holds out his hand, then rests his palm on Joonmyun's own to still Joonmyun's shaking. "So you… shifted from film to broadcasting, something you associate closely with media to–"

"–To try to change the system from the inside. Try to fix things starting with us 'gatekeepers'." Joonmyun leans back in his seat but doesn't pull his hand away. Instead, he splays out his fingers and hooks the pads on the tips of Jongin's nails. The first contact is cold, but he can feel Joonmyun's skin slowly getting warm, can feel his muscles relaxing a little. "But it's hard, you know? It's like trying to change the cycle of life or… tweaking some things in the reproduction cycle. The industry is so sick, and the lies of the government make it even more wretched and sickening."

"The 'mean world syndrome'," Jongin says. Joonmyun looks up, then, eyes wide, like he didn't see that coming. Or maybe he had, just not in this situation. Jongin finds it easier to explain himself in academic terms because there are no emotions involved there. Where feelings are involved, his ability to construct cohesive sentences goes haywire. "Our professor in History of FIlm kept mentioning that, that we have to be extra careful of the message we want to relay and the means by which we relay them because media has become a way of education people already. It's not… It's not the same old entertainment platform that it was years ago."

"Lee Jinki? Is that the name of your professor?"

Jongin nods. "You know him, hyung?"

"He… pretty much guided me even before I started writing my thesis," Joonmyun explains. "Him and Kim-sonsaengnim, they were my mentors. Helped me to find an objective approach to tackle this topic without wanting to thrash about every few minutes." Joonmyun ends with a chuckle.

Jongin gets the strangest mental image of Joonmyun flailing about, arms in the air and out of control. It isn't supposed to be funny – Joonmyun has just shared him something so heart-wrenching that he'd probably be weeping had it not been for the fact that Joonmyun's trying hard to keep it together – but there's an air of sincerity to Joonmyun's laughter. It's almost as if he means it, that the chuckle was heart-felt and is his attempt at patching up the scars in his chest. So he smiles a little as he says, "That's really weird, hyung. I can't… imagine you thrashing about."

"Not in my equity, isn't it?" Joonmyun says. The hard corners of his mouth have softened considerably, and the corners of his eyes are dry. His eyes are still glistening, though, and his lips are still quivering. "Star student Kim Joonmyun, throwing a tantrum – ah, that would make the headlines in our school paper."

Jongin shakes his head and tightens his grip on Joonmyun's hand. That makes Joonmyun's rough laughter subside, makes Joonmyun look at him and nothing else. "Are you sure you're okay now, hyung? I mean, your thesis, and then broadcasting week last week, and then–"

Joonmyun cocks an eyebrow at him. "And then?"

"And then–" This, their twisted relationship. And then there's whatever he's supposed to have with Baekhyun. And then there's Joonmyun leaning closer until their foreheads bump, until the tips of their noses touch. And then there's the sweet allure of Joonmyun's lips just a breath, a decision away.

"And then this," Jongin finally says, all in one breath. He blows hot air a bit too hard on Joonmyun's nose and Joonmyun closes his eyes, laughter bubbling on his lips. "Which we… promised to fix after my midterms and it's after midterms now–"

"But my paper's not done yet," Joonmyun hums.

Jongin groans. "Dammit," he grumbles. He can feel the vibrations of Joonmyun's laughter on his skin. "Fine."

Joonmyun pulls away, still laughing, but the lack of warmth doesn't bother Jongin as much anymore. It's still there, in the link of their fingers, in the press of Joonmyun's knees on Jongin's inner thigh, in the heat of Joonmyun's gaze, assessing. He keeps his hands in this web a little longer and then pulls away when his phone sounds off. He sees a message from Zitao come in, one that's asking, hey sorry saw this late. how's ur sehun thing? how's ur heart bro?

There's still a dull ache in his chest, left and center, but it doesn't bother him as much anymore. He thinks back on Zitao's statement – If you don't like it then give it back. Let it go. Help yourself feel better by dropping baggages at the first sign of excess weight because really, who else would know if he's packed just the right amount of things for the next leg of his adventure? He would know when it's best to drop his bags and get rid of whatever he doesn't need anymore – the plushie Sehun gave him back in fifth grade, or maybe that 'couple jacket' that he and Sehun got before moving from middle school to high school. Or maybe that email that's been sitting in his inbox for years already, an image taken years ago. In a past that he and Sehun have supposedly grown out of,

"I was supposed to get things done, y'know," he teases Joonmyun later, when they're sitting side-by-side on the couch. Joonmyun's reading a print out of an article he found online, and he looks up at Jongin to meet his gaze. Jongin can feel the light shift of his muscles in the tight press of their bodies, in the way Joonmyun's lips brush against the underside of his jaw. "I was supposed to study but you distracted me–"

"And I was supposed to finish my thesis, but you came," Joonmyun retorts, then cranes his neck until Jongin can feel the heat of Joonmyun's lips on his skin. He swallows hard. "And made me talk about my life." Joonmyun heaves a sigh. "Now I have to re-read my material because I forgot everything already."

Jongin tries to summon soft laughter, but his best effort only yields a scratchy chuckle. He settles with that and says, "Focus, hyung," voice lilting just before the last syllable. Joonmyun lingers a little longer, then pulls away, sits back up, straightens in his seat and goes back to reading.

Jongin looks at Joonmyun and bites the inside of his cheek. He pulls up Zitao's message and types, i'm good, don't worry. i'll be alright. :)

♬ ♬ ♬

He wakes up to the feeling of someone's fingers in his hair. His first instinct is to freeze, hold his breath, open his eyes wide and look around him; his second, to lean into the touch because it feels so intimate, so familiar. He shifts a little in his seat, then, and feels a dull ache in his side. Feet away, the wall clock reads nine in the evening. He's been out for a few hours already, and his readings are nowhere to be found.

Shit, he thinks. He paid for those photocopied readings. He won't borrow Zitao's notes because he's sure as hell that he won't be able to understand a thing. Zitao uses these weird doodles and scribbles in whatever he writes on his notebook, after all.

"You're awake," comes a soft, familiar voice. Jongin lets out a loud exhale and closes his eyes, purely on instinct, and allows himself to lean into the warmth pressed to his side. Joonmyun's warmer than the usual, and his shoulders aren't as tense as before. Giving into the allure of Joonmyun's touch, Jongin nuzzles Joonmyun's shoulder. Joonmyun repays him in kind with laughter. "I was beginning to think you were going to be out cold the whole night."

Jongin groans, but for the most part it comes out as a low whine. "Hmmsorry. Did I…" He yawns. "Did I drool on you."

"Nope," Joonmyun says, voice so soft that he could be whispering. Joonmyun drops his readings on his lap, then reaches out to trace the curve of Jongin's cheek with his free hand. "Slept well?"

The real answer would be no, because his back and his side hurt so much that he can't even sit up straight. Another real answer would be yes, because I heard someone singing to me in my sleep, and he sounded good. Joonmyun has stopped massaging his scalp, and his other hand has come to cup his cheek. Jongin lifts his head a little, and Joonmyun tilts his head in tandem with Jongin's own like they're rehearsing a dance for the very first time. Or singing with each other – yes, it sounds like a good enough harmonization of two amateur singers. Joonmyun's movements are slow, tentative, and he can feel the light tremble of Joonmyun's fingers on his skin. "Mhmm," Jongin says, then, "I had a really nice dream."

Joonmyun laughs a little and pulls Jongin closer, then presses a soft kiss to Jongin's forehead. "Good. Because you looked really lost and tired earlier."

Jongin jerks a little. It isn't from the prickling sensation of Joonmyun's lips on his skin, or the way Joonmyun is holding him, each touch so soft and gentle. His stomach lurches, just a tiny tumble that's enough to make him wince. There's a flash of worry across Joonmyun's features and then it's gone, replaced instead by the violent shake of Joonmyun's hand on his cheek. There's enough force in it that he feels himself being pulled back to shore, a rush of air filling his lungs. And then the steady beating of his heart in chest, one thump then another, a heavy pang settling inside him with every beat.

"Just tired," Jongin says. He tries to smile. If it ever looks fake, he can choke it up to lethargy. "I'm okay now," he adds. "I'll be alright."

Joonmyun stares at him a while longer, then nods. "Dinner, then?"

Jongin blinks a few times and looks at his wrist watch. It's almost eight in the evening. Maybe the ache in his body is just from the hunger he keeps trying to suppress. So he says, "Sure," doesn't think twice about coming home late. They won't be leaving campus, anyway. And there's no one to talk to on Skype when he gets back to his room.

He connects to his wifi as soon as he gets back to the dorm – ten in the evening, because Joonmyun thought it was a good idea to walk around the grounds at nine in the evening after grabbing dinner. Maybe Joonmyun is right, because the spring breeze wasn't beating down on them as hard as the usual and he feels five times lighter now, after walking a long path after eating so much. Joonmyun thought it was a good idea, too, to feed him with lots of chocolates because, I swear, you really looked sick earlier. So he made no effort to shrug it off or to turn Joonmyun down. Free food is still free food – it's the one thing in life Jongin will never say no to.

It couldn't have been that bad earlier, he thinks now as he plops down on his bed. But then Zitao had offered him his chocolate drink. Shaking his head, he pushes that thought to the very back of his mind.

It takes a while for Viber to load. Three messages come in in an instant, and a fourth one comes in a few seconds after. They're all from Sehun, and Jongin takes a deep breath at the first sign of sharp pain piercing his chest. It's normal now, but that doesn't mean the initial prick won't startle him out of his state of complete composure. It still does, years after, even if Sehun's first message reads, ok gonna talk to the profs now WISH ME LUCK HUHUHU. It's normal enough a message that he should be able to shrug off the feeling of important, important, he's letting me know because he thinks I'm important.

Jongin shakes his head, gulps hard as he scrolls down to read the succeeding messages. k turns out bitch got caught cheating in another class HAHAHA KARMA'S FUCKING WIFI NOW, says the second. The third is a sticker of a character doing a fist pump. The fourth is, hey i got full marks 4 english wud u bliv??

The strange thing is, even with all the shit that's been thrown at him, Jongin knows that Sehun isn't the type to let his emotions affect measurable output. His grandmother died and he still did well in his exams during second year in high school. His father passed away the year after and he was still able to get good marks on the final exam. Separation from Jongin still earned him good enough midterm marks in school and let him score a girl. So if there's anyone who knows how to compartmentalize and does it well, it's Sehun.

It's a skill Jongin has yet to master. It's a skill that he has to master now.

He tries hard, though – he navigates to his old email, his Yahoo address from years ago whose username is drealkimkai2007. He goes through the emails in the folder labeled as 'important', perusing through each message and clicking on the attached images. There's an album from their beach trip back in sixth grade, then a few pictures from middle school graduation. There's a handful from high school because that's when Sehun mastered the art of selca. There are a few more from many random occasions, just snapshots of Sehun in the classroom, or in the library with a sleepy Jongin. There's one with Sehun's lips smushed against Jongin's cheeks and Jongin scowling – in disgust or in pain, Jongin isn't sure. For all he knows, he might be complaining because Sehun narrowly missed his lips by a few inches.

He laughs at himself. His cursor hovers the trash bin icon for a moment, then he clicks it fast, deletes that and the high school pictures and the random selcas. He doesn't need those – Sehun probably has a back up of all his pictures, anyway.

Then he chances upon an email from years ago, one from his mother's email address. It has a picture of Sehun crying attached, and the caption reads– "Look at Sehunnie crying because he misses Jonginnie," Jongin reads out loud. Or something like it. If Sehun saw that image now, he'd probably laugh and deny it even happened.

If Jongin never saw the image again then maybe he'd be one step closer to taking that one step forward he should've taken a long time ago.

He takes a deep breath and clicks the trash bin icon, then. He sits on his hands as he waits for the other emails to load. Checks 'select all' and deletes everything else in the folder that's dated more than two years already.

He sets up email forwarding after a while, then logs off of drealkimkai2007.

He switches to his Gmail application and logs on with kim.jongin@gmail.com.

♬ ♬ ♬

The good thing about this particular Monday is that their sound professor emailed the night before that he won't be able to come to class.. It had something to do with shooting schedules and post-production timings and the like, but Jongin's eyes stopped reading as soon as he read I'll be meeting with you next week. Treat our meeting tomorrow, Monday, as your break from the midterm challenge. Then his Semiotics professor called and said he was sick, but everyone knows he's doing his freelance job while teaching so 'sick' means 'sick of the institution but well enough to earn money elsewhere'. The free day works to their advantage – after spending weeks laboring over a week-long challenge, they'd grab at any opportunity to take a break.

So when Joonmyun asks, "Would you want to board with me again? Just a test for my thesis. This is the last one, I promise!," Jongin gives in. It's not as if he can ever think of saying no, in the first place.

Two in the afternoon finds him stuffed to the brim and reaching out to take the script Joonmyun wrote for this particular exercise. "Don't read yet," Joonmyun says from the other side of the room, then turns to the camera to fumble with a few controls. A few seconds after, Joonmyun appears on the other side of the room with another camera. He sets it up beside Jongin, the lens intimidating with the very little distance between it and his face. Jongin leans back a little, creates some space between them. He waits for the 'beep' of the camera and for Joonmyun to settle on his seat.

"We're rolling," Joonmyun announces, then draws his copy of the script close to himself. "Okay. So, this is an exercise in determining emotions in different voices," he explains. "I'll be playing a series of clips with statements from different people, and I need you to react to two things: one, their voices; and two, the content of the statement. If you didn't catch the meat of the statement, that's fine. Also, I'll need you to be as candid as possible with your reactions. Is that clear, Mr. Kim?"

Mr. Kim. It sounds too formal on Joonmyun's lips, unlike the way he says Jongin's name like he's humming, singing. Jongin shakes off that thought, pushes it to the back of his mind. Focuses on the way Joonmyun purses his lips, instead, and the way they quirk up when their eyes meet. That unties the loose knots in his stomach and in his shoulders. It stills his heart beat a little.

"Ready? Joonmyun asks.

Jongin takes a deep breath. "Ready whenever you are."

The exercise doesn't… sound anything like an exercise. For one, the messages in the clips are from many different scenarios, and Jongin has a hard time focusing on just one thing – either the intonation and the lilts or the content, the gist of the message. Only on the fifth clip does he decide to focus on just one – that being content – but even then the voice, the tone, the delivery of the line makes it hard to digest just the meat of the content and dissect each word. Some of the lines are delivered in such a passive manner that Jongin finds himself not listening to those at all, and some are delivered with so much gusto that the meaning, albeit simple, gets lost in the voice of the speaker. There are so many factors to consider – the breathing, the choking on words, even the way some words roll off of the speaker's tongue, he should consider all those before giving a reaction fitting for each clip.

"The banker is bluffing. Pretty sure he stole the money. He was stuttering," Jongin comments after Joonmyun pauses the tenth clip. Joonmyun nods as he scribbles key words, notes on Jongin's comments. He can't make out the characters Joonmyun is scribbling from where he is but he sees Joonmyun encircling a word, then underlining a phrase.

"But maybe someone was holding him at gunpoint? That could be an option. I mean, the heavy breathing... sort of blurred the situation a bit," Jongin says. He worries his bottom lip, tilting his head to the side, then looks up at Joonmyun. "Was he? For some reason, I can't help but think that he was telling the truth and that the situation just freaked the–" Joonmyun cocks an eyebrow at him and he reconsiders his words. " –hell out of him," Jongin finishes.

"So you're saying, if we isolate the content alone, just the words, no inflections or change in intonation, the meaning won't be the same," Joonmyun asks. "Is that it?"

Jongin nods in agreement. "Yeah. But that's taking the line out of context. I mean, it's hard to determine the truth behind someone's words just because–"

Jongin blinks twice. He gets it now, the point of this activity. People in media, in broadcasting tend to weave something out of simple happenings or news bits through delivery. Execution matters, he remembers Lee-sonsaengnim saying. So as future filmmakers, you have to be extra careful with how you communicate your message through movies, scenes, even the smallest details.

"–just because they're written down," Jongin continues, voice dropping to a whisper. He stares at Joonmyun for a few good seconds, shaking his head in disbelief. Joonmyun's lips tug up at the corners, slow and careful, like he can't be seen smiling on camera even if he's just successfully communicated the concept behind the activity. "It's the branding, the equity that lends credibility to a news item. Take it out of Reuters and it's as good gossip."

Joonmyun takes a deep breath, sharp and noisy, then leans closer. Only the tips of his fingers touch Jongin, but already Jongin can feel electricity shoot up his arms, prick his skin, numb his shoulders. "But even then, you cannot take the news item out of context. Let's say KBS delivers news on something happening outside of Korea. There can be an ounce of truth to it, but it will be more believable if the news comes from CNN, or BBC. Is that right?"

Jongin nods. He bites the inside of his cheek, finding it more difficult to keep himself from grinning during an activity for an undergraduate thesis. You're helping him graduate, Jongin. You haven't discovered the cure to all the problems in the world yet. "You are absolutely right."

Joonmyun stays like that for a while, doesn't speak, doesn't move, but Jongin can make out the slow-forming smile on his lips, crawling up his cheeks and crinkling the corners of his eyes. He catches the subtle movement of Joonmyun's lips, too – three, two, one – before he breaks the spell, pulling away then standing from his seat to stop the recording. It isn't until he's returned from turning off the camera on the other side that Jongin says, breathless, "That was amazing, hyung. I mean, it's a simple activity but shit, the realization just... crept up to me. Like a fucking creeper."

Joonmyun allows himself to laugh now, and he shakes his head as he says, "I'll pretend that made sense, but okay. Thank you."

But that was amazing. It is, Jongin wants to argue. Joonmyun's brushing it off like it's nothing, like he isn't both trying to contribute new knowledge to the industry and trying to effect change in the system. Heck, Joonmyun's talking as if he hasn't worked day and night for this, hasn't thought long and hard just to come up with a simple executional idea that can effectively relay his message to whoever his panelists are. So Jongin says, "If I were the panel, I'd feel shivers running down my spine, hyung. And I'm not even saying that because you'll be buying me food after."

Joonmyun snorts. "What? I'm buying you food? When did I ever–"

"Come on–" Jongin scoots closer, resting his head on Joonmyun's shoulder and nuzzling the jut of the bone. He tilts his head up, then, cranes his neck so he can take a whiff of Joonmyun's scent. He smells of eucalyptus and coffee, as always. Like lazy mornings spent in bed and accidentally spilling coffee on yourself but just laughing it off. Leaning on Joonmyun feels like that. "Hyung, I helped you test your theory–"

Joonmyun huffs. "Jongin."

"And it worked, right? I was a good subject and I caught on quickly and–"

Joonmyun shifts in his seat, tilting his head so that he's facing Jongin. Joonmyun is close, so close, close enough that he can see the pimple just under Joonmyun's eye, and then two more near it like they're forming a triangle. Close enough that he see that Joonmyun's lips are chapped and, I can help with that, hyung, Jongin wants to say. I can help you with that. But he doesn't really have to. Joonmyun's licking his lips and he 's leaning closer and Jongin takes a deep breath, air passing through the small opening of his lips. It makes him feel cold, makes him shiver a little. He tightens his fist in Joonmyun's shirt and Joonmyun's closer now because Jongin can feel the slow-forming smile tugging up the corners of his mouth, and he can feel the tremble of Joonmyun's lips on his skin.

"It did. It worked," Joonmyun says, breathes. His voice is barely above a whisper and he could have been breathing, but he isn't. His words stick to Jongin's skin; that alone is a testament that Jongin isn't hearing things, imagining things. This is real. "What do you want?"

I want you, he could say, but he doesn't. Instead, he answers, "Anything sweet." Joonmyun laughs a little. "Iced chocolate drink."

Joonmyun closes his eyes and presses close, lips brushing against Jongin's own, then pulls away. Jongin leans in close, chasing his breath, but too late – Joonmyun's pushing himself off his seat and gathering his things.

The trip to the cafeteria is silent. Jongin doesn't mind – this brand of silence isn't the type that makes him blank out or lulls him to sleep. Joonmyun seems to, though, worrying his bottom lip too much or turning to his side, looking at Jongin, then looking back at his shoes when Jongin looks his way. If he ever wants to say anything, he doesn't; instead, he moves closer to Jongin, lets their knuckles brush. Keeps his head facing the road ahead of them and doesn't risk a glance at Jongin.

"Here's your iced chocolate drink, as requested," Joonmyun says when he arrives with their order. He accidentally jams his foot into one of the legs of the table and winces, but by then the tray is already safe on the table. "Almost forgot the whipped cream but I remembered it just before I left the counter."

"Thank you," Jongin replies, then transfers the food to their table one by one. It's still the same order for Joonmyun, down to his two cups of tea and mulmandu that Jongin knows Joonmyun will stuff with kimchi. Meanwhile, it's a tteokbokki and ramyun kind of night for Jongin. It means he won't be sleeping anytime soon, or that he might have to invite Joonmyun to take a walk around the campus. By the end of the trip, he'd probably feel less full and tired enough too just crash into his bed. Or maybe he'd still feel the same and ask Joonmyun for another round if only to stay with Joonmyun a little longer.

"I thought you were hungry," Joonmyun comments, peeking at him through his bangs.

Jongin widens his eyes at Joonmyun, then stuffs as many pieces of tteok in his mouth as he could. This only results in him in wincing in pain later, when chewing all the tteok in his mouth proves to be a chore and the gochujang starts to spill from the corners of his mouth. It's a stupid move, but the ache in his jaw eases when Joonmyun leans in, reaching out to wipe the sauce at the corners of Jongin's mouth. Joonmyun's fingers are cold, but his touch has never been anything but gentle and light. Like he isn't sure of what he wants, wants to do, and what he wants to achieve.

Joonmyun sucks in his thumb, licking off the sauce, and laughs a little. "I didn't think you were that hungry."

"Didn't realize I was, either," Jongin says between munching. It's bad manners, but the words just stumbled out of his mouth, surprising even himself. Joonmyun shocked the sentence out of him, sort of. Joonmyun has a lot of abilities; stilling Jongin's racing heartbeat isn't one of them.

When Jongin feels the tension in his jaws leave, he looks up at Joonmyun and asks, "Do you do this with everyone, hyung?"

Joonmyun cocks his eyebrows in response. Lips pursed and eyes blinking, he looks surprised, caught off-guard. The light flush coating his neck and his cheeks say something else, though, and the shy twist of the mouth says, Well, you've been figured out now, Joonmyun. What will you do? What do you want to do now, huh? Another blink, and then it's gone, masked by his normal look – controlled smile, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. His chest is still heaving, though. His lips are still trembling.

"Not everyone," Joonmyun answers. He picks at his food and focuses his eyes on the meat he's separating from the rice. "Only my favorites."

My favorites sound so generic, though – he hasn't seen Joonmyun buying Kyungsoo food or asking favors from Soojung. He's seen Joonmyun with Chanyeol a few times, Chanyeol eating and Joonmyun only half-interested in his food, the other half of his attention on Baekhyun. That's how it's always been, somehow – Joonmyun half in this conversation, half of his mind somewhere else. Joonmyun half comfortable where he is and the other half of him feeling out of place, sometimes even bereft. Half of Joonmyun's body fitting in Baekhyun's, and the other half of him in a weird sort of puzzle-fit with Jongin's own. It's hard trying to win something, someone over when you know that you'll have to share the prize with someone else.

Jongin is crazy possessive. He hates it when Baekhyun gets frisky with Joonmyun not because it's rude to do so, but because when it's Joonmyun's turn to touch him, Baekhyun pushes him away.

"So Baekhyun-hyung… Is he one of your favorites?"

Joonmyun laughs, thick and bitter. He snorts as he ends. "Baekhyun and I are just friends. I thought that was clear already."

Jongin bites the inside of his cheek. "You don't seem convinced, hyung," he answers. He nibbles on the straw of his drink but tteokbokki and chocolate have never been a good combination. He pulls away, then, and keeps his eyes focused on Joonmyun, instead. "And… I dunno, hyung, but it always felt as if you two were more than that."

Joonmyun swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing slowly in his throat. "Not to everyone, and certainly not to him," he answers, then, and takes a deep breath. He sort of slumps in his seat, but he pulls his shoulders back and sits up straight after a while. "Just… think of it this way: friends have needs. We help each other fulfill those needs from time to time. So we really are just friends," Joonmyun explains. His lips twist into a weird sort of smile-scowl-frown. "Very good friends."

"He owes you an explanation, at least."

Joonmyun scoffs. "He doesn't owe me anything. We had an agreement that there will never be any feelings involved–"

"Looks like he's the only one keeping his word, hyung," Jongin replies. Joonmyun's eyebrows twitch and Jongin thinks, shit, he shouldn't have said that. He's being too harsh and rude. Not everyone appreciates brute honesty. It works with Sehun, yes, but Joonmyun is no Sehun. And while Joonmyun is strong, his resolve when it comes to anything that involves Baekhyun is weak.

"I'm sorry," Jongin mumbles. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have–"

"No, you're right," Joonmyun says. He shakes his head, the smile he was wearing before still on his lips. It's softer on the edges now; Joonmyun's eyes, sullen and half-mast. It feels like a dismissal, or Joonmyun halfway out the door and out of this conversation. There's something else dangling from the corners of Joonmyun's lips, though, a sliver of hope, the string keeping Jongin from walking away. "I suck at keeping promises."

"Well you… You haven't opened your Alpha Sapphire yet, right?" Jongin says in an effort to make the atmosphere lighter. Under the table, he nudges Joonmyun's foot.

Joonmyun laughs a little. It sounds less scratchy than before. It lifts the tension in Jongin's shoulders a bit. "Not yet," Joonmyun answers. "I guess I'm not so bad at that."

"And remember, hyung, after your defense–"

Joonmyun chuckles this time, his cheeks tugging up along with the corners of his eyes. This is a better look on him. "I know, I know, we're going to make a collab once the chaos tides over."

Jongin nods and grabs his drink, taking a long sip of the iced chocolate. "Good," he says, smiling. A sliver of laughter escapes Joonmyun's lips. "I'm looking forward to that."

It takes them another hour to finish eating, and ten more minutes to decide to take a walk around the campus, get some fresh air and help the food they've just eaten go down. The walk is silent until Joonmyun begins to hum, filling the silence again, and Jongin's tempted to ask, why do you hate silence so much, hyung? But Joonmyun has already answered more questions than he does on a normal day, and everybody is entitled to their own secrets – Joonmyun has an island filled with them, and Jongin has his heart filled with tiny pieces of his Sehun puzzle still littered in his heart.

He dusts himself off and finds himself humming along when he recognizes the song. Joonmyun looks at him, bumps his elbow into Jongin's arm but misses by a width of a hair. Jongin feels his pulse in his palms, the back of his knees quicken. Joonmyun hadn't even touched him.

♬ ♬ ♬

He takes a pit stop at Zitao's room before heading to his own. "I'm here for Pokemon," he announces, but both he and Zitao know that isn't true. He's here because there's the possibility of a Skype call to come in at eleven in the evening. He's here because sometimes the silence drives Jongin crazy, too. He's here for the Combos – that part, he doesn't. deny.

"I can hear these teeny, tiny voices in your head. They're driving me crazy," Zitao comments. He bumps his knee into Jongin's own from where they're sitting cross-legged on his bed. "C'mon, speak up. I'm entering the League in five minutes so make it quick."

"I'm confused," Jongin confesses because that's all there is to say. He doesn't even know how he feels about this… whole arrangement. He's around 70% sure that Joonmyun likes him; if Joonmyun doesn't, then at least he likes Jongin's lips. There's something holding Joonmyun back, though, something that makes him return to Baekhyun despite all of Baekhyun's counts against Joonmyun's sanity. Strike one: Baekhyun is a fucking exhibitionist flirt who can't keep his hands to himself when Joonmyun's around. At the first sign of action from Joonmyun, though, he takes a step back. Strike two: He doesn't know when to stop because Jongin is sure, even if he might have been a bit too buzzed that time, that Joonmyun kept trying to tell Baekhyun off when they were drinking in celebration of the successful broadcasting week. Strike three: They both don't know what this is. Three-point-one is that they made a shitty agreement to just keep things physical. It works for some people, sure, but only up to a certain point. There will always be one point in time where one will feel something for the other, and it's bound to be messy.

Your life sounds like a teenage drama, he tells himself. Also, stop living in your manhwa world, Jongin. Maybe life is just too shitty at times. So he turns to Zitao, opens the bag of Combos without preamble. He isn't even surprised that Zitao isn't holding him back. "I'm really, really confused."

"More like you feel confused for your darling Joonmyun-hyung," Zitao mumbles. He holds up a finger when Jongin begins to protest. "I'm not buying any of your bullshit. I know you're feeling all weird and messed up because you want to help him out as much as you want to help yourself."

Jongin stops mid-Combo and cocks an eyebrow at Zitao. "Wow. That's deep."

Zitao nods, slow and solemn, then gives Jongin a pat on the shoulder. "And you, my dear friend, are in deep trouble."

Not really, Jongin wants to argue. Being in trouble means he hadn't intended for this to happen, but somewhere in his mind, in the midst of the rubble, he's sure he was bound to feel a bit more attracted to Joonmyun – aka Youtube user '$udope' but display name '$uho' – after meeting him in real life. Sharing experiences has that kind of effect on people. Heck, if he was into girls then he'd probably be so damn attracted to Soojung. If he hadn't spent half of his heart points on clinging onto the idea of Sehun and invested the other half in Joonmyun, maybe he'd fall for Zitao. Zitao isn't difficult to grow fond of – he's nice, caring, charming. He has great taste in food and in games, and somehow always has great advice to give. His fashion sense is weird but hey, Jongin had to deal with $uho's atrocious fashion choices for years. Zitao's is easy to deal with.

But he made sure, he really made sure, not to feel anything for Zitao. Saw and felt it coming on their very first meeting. Shit people say about love at first sight? That's true sometimes, 100% of the time for Jongin. The moment Sehun dove into the sandpit back when they were kids, Jongin thought of two things – one, his ass is cute; and two, shit, he has the nicest smile even when he just got humiliated in front of a lot of kids. Then his heart skipped a beat and he knew, he just knew, that he was bound to fall for this kid.

The sequence of events in The Joonmyun Case eludes Jongin, but he's certain that somewhere between Joonmyun looking all cool and a bit flustered after someone walking up to him to confess, I'm your biggest fan, and Joonmyun not pushing him away, he knew he was going to fall. Was around 95% sure. The other 5% of him was still holding onto that sliver of hope with Sehun. Dwindled to 0 when Sehun decided, all by himself, to put a wall between them.

"I want to make this work, though," he mumbles, crumbs from his snack catching on the corners of his lips. Zitao gestures for him to clean up his mess, and he wipes the his mouth with the back of his hand. Zitao grimaces, but he also helps Jongin, brushing away the crumbs on the other side with his thumb. When he pulls away, he wipes his thumb with a sheet of tissue and throws it into the waste basket.

Then he snatches the bag of Combos from Jongin and asks, "What are you gonna do now?"

"Wait? I guess?" Jongin says. Asks himself, even, because he's not sure if he wants to spend another lifetime waiting for a love that might not be his in the end.

Zitao doesn't say anything, simply munches on the snack, then hands Jongin his DS. "You need this more than I do," he says. "Just… don't kill my Pokemon. Don't let them die."

Don't let them die.

"Nah. You play, I'll watch," Jongin says, and props his chin on Zitao's shoulder, chewing noisily. Zitao boots up his DS and groans when Jongin deliberately chews louder right in his ear, but he doesn't brush Jongin off. He does, however, ask Jongin to feed him while he tackles the Elite Four. He doesn't ask for anything else.

And that, Jongin thinks as he accidentally shoves a Combo into Zitao's mouth when Zitao lands a critical hit on his opponent, makes all the difference.

♬ ♬ ♬

Wednesday that week, after their last class, Soojung and Jongin bump into Joonmyun on their way to the library. He's with a few friends who he introduces as geniuses from the College of Music. The one with blond hair is Lu Han, and the one who's carrying a guitar case is Zhang Yixing. Jongin remembers seeing Yixing from one of the broadcasting week recordings that he watched. "They record with Chanyeol in my room most of the time, that meaning 'everyday'," he explains. He whispers something about Chanyeol being in the room, then, and that they won't need his keys, and with that the two start walking to a different direction.

"You make your room sound like a huge studio, hyung," Jongin comments as they get back on track, crossing the bridge from the Broadcasting building to the Film building. Joonmyun doesn't say anything and only chuckles. His stomach grumbles, then, and Jongin doesn't have to ask if Joonmyun's coming with them to the library.

"I'm thinking of skipping lunch so I could do the last few tweaks for my paper," Joonmyun says, voice trailing off. They're nearing the junction where Joonmyun can take a left if he has to solve the problems of his stomach first, then conquer his paper second. "Because I have a consultation with Kim-sonsaengnim tomorrow at 9–"

Jongin massages the bridge of his nose, tired from carrying the weight of his glasses the entire cinematography class, and shakes his head. "Nope. Eat first, study later."

Soojung grunts in agreement, but Jongin can't be too sure. She isn't looking in Joonmyun's direction. She's facing the other way, to their right, where the exit to the university bookstore is. "Or maybe you should go back to the club room first, oppa?" she continues, then turns to look at Joonmyun. "Yeah. You should– No, actually, come on, let's eat."

"What–" Jongin furrows his eyebrows at Soojung and widens his eyes when Soojung hooks an arm around his own. Soojung never does that. Something's up. He looks around him, then, looks over his shoulder, and–

"Oh," comes Joonmyun's breathless statement. Jongin freezes. He's pretty sure Joonmyun can't see much with the two of them towering over Joonmyun, but the red hair beyond their shoulders is unmistakeable. It looks pretty innocent at first glance – Baekhyun with books tucked in one arm and the other holding himself up against the wall, the girl in front of him meeting his gaze, smiling at him. Jongin looks closer and then he sees it, Baekhyun with his knee rubbing against the girl's inner thigh and the girl's hand snaking around Baekhyun's waist, then traveling south to cup his ass.

It's stupid to be making out in broad daylight, but at least Baekhyun made an effort to hide behind the short plants. Props to him for even managing to think in this situation. And props to him for noticing that there are three pairs of eyes looking at him, at them, from a few feet away.

Jongin gulps hard and reaches for Joonmyun's hand. Joonmyun doesn't brush him off, but he doesn't look at him either. The expression on his face is unreadable – his lips are pressed thinly together, and his eyes are sharp, dark, piercing. It takes a while for the girl to catch on, and she simply balls her hands into fists in Baekhyun's shirt. Jongin catches Baekhyun's, Excuse me, I just have to… deal with something. He feels Joonmyun's fingers slipping between his own, feels Joonmyun's hold on him, tight and unrelenting.

"Hyung," Baekhyun begins. He worries his bottom lip, then, "Hyung, I–"

"It's okay. We had agreement," Joonmyun replies, voice steady, but Jongin can feel Joonmyun's fingers trembling. He hears the light hitch in Joonmyun's breathing, and then there's something else – resolution in Joonmyun's hard-edged words when he says, "It was silly even signing it, in the first place." Joonmyun gulps hard. "It's over."

"Wha–" Baekhyun bites down on his lower lip even before he can finish, and then it's all silence from that point on. Joonmyun is as steady as the ground, but Jongin can hear the tiny hitches in his breathing, like he's trying to keep everything inside, trying to keep himself in check even at the height of the situation. Jongin tightens his hold on Joonmyun, then, and Joonmyun lets out a loud exhale, closes his eyes, blows tiny puffs of air, perhaps in an effort to even out his breathing.

"You have a class in… a few minutes, right?" comes Joonmyun's voice, brighter this time. Jongin looks to his side, furrows his eyebrows when he realizes that there's a small smile at the curl of Joonmyun's lips. "Go. You can't miss that. Remember, if you ever get bad grades–"

"I'll get kicked out," Baekhyun continues. He gulps hard. His lips are trembling. He manages to wear a smile, though. Maybe this is part of the agreement, the contract that they both signed, that if they ever screwed up, they'd brush it off and start anew as soon as they can. "And that I'll have to look for a new org to join.

Joonmyun laughs a little, dry and choked. "Good that you know."

Oh, come on, Jongin thinks. It can't be that easy.

It isn't, because as soon as Baekhyun turns on his heel to walk back inside the building, Joonmyun slumps against the closest wall. "Food. On me," is the only thing he says, and that's what it takes for Jongin to feel a surge of courage and to keep their fingers linked even as they make their way to the cafeteria. Joonmyun doesn't budge, doesn't even flinch when Jongin starts rubbing circles on his skin with his thumb. Soojung offers to be the one to buy for them, but Joonmyun shakes his head, saying, "I have to be busy. I can't think about– Let me do it."

Jongin meets his gaze head on and asks, "Do you… want soju to go with that? I could sneak some in, I guess." He's done it before, except he'd snuck in soju in Sehun's house without asking Sehun's parents for permission. He ended up sleeping over at Sehun's place instead of going home that night, curled up against the warm press of Sehun's body.

Maybe he's no expert at hiding because the following day, Sehun's parents found the bottle. Sehun's mother only said, "Well, at least they drank here at home and not outside." His father took a deep breath and shook his head, but agreed with Sehun's mother soon after. At the back of Jongin's mind that time, he thought, it was a good thing that was the only thing they noticed. The fit of his body in Sehun's own wasn't new, after all; it was the sinking feeling in his stomach at the memory of Sehun's lips on his cheek that was.

"Can you? Tonight?" Joonmyun asks. He worries his bottom lip, like he's reconsidering, then says, "Do you want to–"

"I'm yours today, hyung," Jongin blurts out. He can make out Soojung cocking an eyebrow at him from a corner of his eye, but he doesn't pay attention to that. He focuses on the light scars on Joonmyun's lips. "I mean, I don't have class tomorrow so if you need someone to–" Distract you. "–keep you company, I'm your guy."

Joonmyun finally stops biting his lips and nods. "Okay. Tonight, then," he says. A flicker in his features, then he looks like his usual self again, albeit without the bright smile. He looks calm, at least. Composed. "Bibimbap for you? Or is it a ramyun kind of day?"

"Bibimbap," Jongin answers. Ramyun and tteokbokki are for nights when he feels like teasing the animal out of Joonmyun, when he feels like torturing himself with the movement of Joonmyun's lips on anything but his own mouth. "And extra kimchi."

Joonmyun laughs a little. It softens the corners of his mouth, teases a light chuckle out of him. "I'll get mulmandu, then," he says, like Jongin had imposed that on him. He didn't. But Joonmyun does know that Jongin has come to develop a fondness for kimchi-stuffed mulmandu.

"Two servings!" Jongin calls out after Joonmyun. Joonmyun doesn't look over his shoulder, but he does hold two thumbs up. His shoulders fall forward and Jongin thinks, It's okay to be a bit vulnerable, hyung. It's okay to be sad. Let me make you happy.

Let me distract you.

♬ ♬ ♬

Evening comes in a rush. Jongin hadn't even realized that the sun had set already, but maybe that's because he'd been holed up in his room with a bag of Combos from Zitao's cabinet and Joonmyun typing hastily beside him. I can't go back to my room, he remembers Joonmyun saying, so he offered his own as a hiding fort for the time being. He'd texted Soojung, then, to tell Chanyeol that Joonmyun was in his room and in one piece. He got a message from an unknown number soon after, saying, thanks for taking care of joonmyun-hyung :* lemme know when i have to pick him up :D

idk hyung maybe tomorrow? asked him earlier if he wants me to take him to your room but– He stops typing from between the pages of his book when Joonmyun looks up and cocks an eyebrow at him. There's nothing but silence for a while and it's unnerving, so he asks Joonmyun, "Room too cold for you, hyung?"

"A little," Joonmyun replies, then cranes his neck. Jongin doesn't budge, doesn't even cover the screen of his phone. If he does then he'd look more suspicious. He's not the best liar in the block, but he'd like to think he's good enough at feigning nonchalance. "It's okay, I have a cardigan here somewhere."

"Or we could go out and grab dinner," Jongin offers. It's eight in the evening, anyway, and they've gotten a lot of things done already. He heard Joonmyun crossing off things in his to-do list earlier under his breath. He's crossed off three chapters out of five that he has to report about next week. It's been a productive session and they deserve to be rewarded. "It's getting late. Aren't you hungry yet?"

Joonmyun chuckles. "A little," he says again, then rushes, "I'm still kinda full from the Combos. Where do you even buy packs as big as those?"

"I kinda… stole this," Jongin confesses. "From Zitao."

"Maybe we should drop by his room," Joonmyun begins, then pulls the screen of his laptop down. "And grab as many bags of Combos as we can–"

Jongin snickers. It might just be the cure to Joonmyun's sadness. "Sounds like a plan."

They get sidetracked, though, by the call of hunger, so 8:30 p.m. finds them in a barbecue place nearby. It's farther from the university than the one they ate at for the celebration, but the place seems much more peaceful, cozier. Maybe it's because it's the middle of the week and university students don't usually have the leisure of going out for barbecue and drinks on a weekday. Or maybe it's because university students use studies to distract themselves from heartaches.

"Any special requests?" Joonmyun asks when they're handed the menu. Jongin shakes his head, saying he's okay with anything as long as it's food. Joonmyun reads his mind easily, though, and orders rabokki for the two of them. It has some of the best things in life – tteokbokki, ramyun, and the opportunity to feed Joonmyun again. It's such an easy bait.

Two orders of samgyupsal and a bottle of soju after, Joonmyun finally loosens up. They'd been talking about academics earlier, with Jongin dropping the occasional comment on how cool Joonmyun's thesis in between flipping the meat and grilling some kimchi. At one point, they may have talked about how Jongin really discovered Joonmyun's videos and maybe he did drop a hint that he was looking for lesbian porn then. Joonmyun hadn't laughed at him, though, and only shook his head as he smiled.

Now, Joonmyun is staring at the meat on the grill and asking, "What did I do wrong?"

A lot of things – he let himself sign that agreement with Baekhyun when he knew he was setting himself up for a heartache. And he kept trying to convince himself that he won't fall, there's no reason to. Kept lying to himself because he knew it was a mistake he couldn't rectify and didn't want to rectify. Fixing things meant letting go of Baekhyun. Together, they were a wonderful mess; apart, Joonmyun was a catastrophe and Baekhyun was a disaster waiting to happen.

"You were just scared, hyung," Jongin mumbles. He reaches out, not minding the sting of the heat from the grill pricking his skin. "You were scared and sometimes we do stupid things when we're afraid."

Joonmyun laughs a little. "It's funny how you're the only one I can trust to be completely honest with me," Joonmyun says. He uncaps a fresh bottle of soju and drinks from the mouth. Jongin doesn't try to stop him. "When we've only know each other for, what, a few months? I mean, I'm not taking it against them that they… tried to ride the same joke and didn't want to slap the reality hard on my face, but–"

"But we need that, sometimes," Jongin says with an exhale. "We need someone to call us out on our bullshit."

"Snap us back to reality, right? Bring us back to safer ground." Joonmyun takes a long swig of soju and seethes when he puts the bottle down. Jongin winces a little. Taking shots of alcohol already makes him feel queasy; he doesn't want to know how Joonmyun feels right now, if he feels like his lips are burning and aflame. "So thank you. I appreciate it. I might not say this often but really, I… appreciate the whole being honest thing."

Joonmyun worries his bottom lip and winces at the first nip. Oversensitive, he exchanges soju for cold water. He looks up at Jongin, then, once the wild red of his lips has been tamed. "I appreciate you."

Jongin waits for it – the uncontrollable happiness inside him, that spark of something that will have him bouncing on the balls of his feet for days on end – but it doesn't come. He waits a little longer, studying the way Joonmyun's expression falls from a vacant look to downcast eyes and the corners of his lips pulled down. He waits until he feels a dull ache in his chest that blooms into something heavier, thumping against his rib cage. And it's suffocating. He can feel his throat constricting and it's dryer than before and it hurts to take deep and long breaths.

Joonmyun reaches out, fingers dancing across the table until he reaches the tips of Jongin's fingers. Jongin moves his hand closer and meets Joonmyun halfway. Here they are again, at this point, where they're each a touch, a decision away. Jongin's eyes focus on the link of their hands, then travels all the way up, tracing Joonmyun's collarbones through the wide collar of his shirt, the column on his neck, the jut of bottom lip. His frown looks more like a pout and it should be cute, but Jongin can't find it in his heart to reach out and pinch Joonmyun's cheeks. He can't even find the words to say, or for this – the standstill where they push and pull in equal parts. Joonmyun meets his gaze just before Jongin lifts his eyes to trace the bridge of Joonmyun's nose, and Jongin says, without preamble, "Hyung, choose me."

Joonmyun furrows his eyebrows. "Huh?"

Jongin gulps down hard, suddenly regretting his decision, but whatever – what's done is done. There's no backing out now. "I know somewhere in your heart, there's still a bit of… I dunno, love? For Baekhyun-hyung? Even if you saw him making out with a girl and he acted like a douchebag trying to explain to you? I know that you're still willing to give this another shot because–" He laughs. He's been through the same bullshit before to know that I'm okay, I'll be okay translates to I'm not fucking okay. "–because you're scared to forget how it feels to have him around. You're scared to… feel less alive and more like some zombie walking down the corridors or something."

Joonmyun laughs a little, but soon the light upward tug at his cheeks falls to a frown. Jongin doesn't speak until Joonmyun looks at him again, a small upward curve at the corners of his mouth. "I know how it feels, hyung. I know how hard it is to… forget the good stuff about that bad experience. It sucks. Sometimes you need an effective distraction to get your back on track."

"A distraction, huh?" Joonmyun whispers. He bites his lower lip. "Like what?"

"Like a new hobby, or something new to learn!" Jongin exclaims. Joonmyun's eyes turn into tiny half-moon crescents. He opens them wide again – as wide as he can, and fixes Jongin with a stare. "A new group to be with. Someone new."

It's not easy, though, Jongin knows that. It's not easy to just replace someone who has carved a niche in your life. It's not easy to wake up everyday, knowing that things just won't be the same way again no matter how many times you convince yourself that nothing's going to change. That nothing should change. But that's the point of confrontations, isn't it? You want something to change for the better. It just doesn't always go your way.

Jongin takes a deep breath. It may not go his way again, as it always does, but he's willing to give it a shot. For Joonmyun, he's willing to take the leap.

Jongin moves closer, then, and he feels the light tremble of Joonmyun's fingers against the tips of his own. It sends a jolt up his arm, numbs his elbow and shoulder. It sends shivers down his spine. He stays still for a few seconds, trying to still his heartbeat, but to no avail. Every inch of him is hyperaware. He can feel his pulse grow stronger in his palms, at the back of his knees, on the underside of his jaw as he tries to find the right words to say. His throat clenches around them, and he lets them all out in a clumsy enunciation.

"So choose me, hyung. Let me distract you. Let me…" He bites the inside of his cheek. "Let me help. I know it isn't much and that sometimes I might be a bother but hyung, please–" He swallows hard. Joonmyun's eyes are wide, and Jongin sees his teeth chatter through the slight parting of his lips. "You don't have to go through this alone."

Jongin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Please," he whispers. "Give me a chance."

Joonmyun inhales, deep and sharp, then presses his lips thinly together. Whatever inebriation written on his features earlier is gone now, replaced instead by shock. There's still a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, but even his eyes are void of the sullen look they'd carried earlier. His lips are a bright shade of red, and they're trembling, and Joonmyun is shaking. His chest is heaving and he isn't saying but he's shaking, and that says more than Jongin would like to hear.

Jongin tries to laugh, then, but for the most part what comes out is dry laughter. "If not, then… At least let us help you. You have… friends you can lean on in times like this."

Joonmyun shakes his head. He catches his lower lip and shakes his head, again and again until the motion comes to a gradual halt. "No. I mean. It's okay, but–" He balls his free hand into a fist. "Jongin, you don't have to do this."

"I'm not a kid, hyung," Jongin argues. "You can't tell me what and what not to do anymore–"

"I don't want to hurt you," Joonmyun says, pausing between words like he's trying to drive a point that he just can't get across. "Help me with academics, sure, that's great, but Jongin–" Joonmyun shakes his head lightly. "I know how you feel about me, and I don't want to abuse that knowledge. You don't deserve that. I won't just… jump you because you're there and it's convenient. You're my friend, Jongin, and I'm not in the business of hurting friends."

Jongin tears his gaze from Joonmyun's own. "Don't push me away."

"I won't," Joonmyun says, looking at their hands, still not touching. He reaches out, then, and lays his palm flat on Jongin's own. "But I won't pull you closer, either. Not– Not now. Not when everything's still messy."

Jongin risks a glance at Joonmyun and sucks in his bottom lip. Joonmyun's eyebrows are furrowed and damn, Joonmyun shouldn't be feeling bad about this. Jongin's the one being rejected, not him. He shouldn't look as if he's affected and reluctant to let go. He shouldn't.

"When?" Jongin asks.

"I don't know, Jongin." Joonmyun gives Jongin's hand a light squeeze. "I don't know."

Jongin can feel something bubbling in his throat, a traitorous cold wrapping around his neck and choking down his words. He wants to say something. He needs to, because he's stubborn and he's old enough to decide for himself and maybe he's still a bit of a kid. "I'm not going anywhere," he finally says. "I'm not going anywhere so I might as well stick around. Here." Jongin splays his fingers on the table and hooks his thumb on Joonmyun's hand. "With you."

Joonmyun laughs. Jongin looks up, eyebrows knitted in confusion, and for the first time since they saw Baekhyun on campus today, he sees Joonmyun smiling. "Silly kid," Joonmyun says, then gives his bottom lip a light nip. Jongin wants to tell him, to remind him that hyung, I'm not a kid, but Joonmyun flushes that thought out of his system when he gives Jongin's hand a tight squeeze, then brings it close to his lips, pressing a light kiss to the back of Jongin's hand.

"What do I do with you?" Joonmyun whispers. He rests his forehead on Jongin's hand. "What do I do with you…"

"Keep me," Jongin mumbles, and Joonmyun snorts, like that's what it takes for him to feel better again – a stubborn kid trying to fight his way inside his heart. And Jongin knows he stands a chance, albeit a tiny 1%, so presses on, hacks away at the vines and tall grass crowding in on him. He'll keep at it until he finds a clearing and finds Joonmyun, curled up in a corner, waiting to be saved.

Joonmyun brings their intertwined hands down on the table, laughing with full-bodied shakes. He keeps his eyes on Jongin and doesn't let go.

♬ ♬ ♬

It isn't exactly the excessive inebriation that makes them decide to go back to the dorms. They're not drunk – just buzzed, enough to make their limbs and lips a bit too loose. Jongin pops two pieces of chewing gum between Joonmyun's lips, pressing them against Joonmyun's lips first before Joonmyun lets his lips fall open. He sucks on Jongin's thumb a little, but pulls away when he realizes that they're out in the streets, the yellow light from the lamppost casting them a warm glow. Under this light, Joonmyun looks like a goner, drunk to the bone, cheeks flush and eyelids heavy. His lips look too red. They feel warm against Jongin's skin.

Jongin takes a deep breath, then chews on the gum in his mouth. It's harder with alcohol making his movements uncoordinated. Even muscle memory betrays him now when they cross the street. Joonmyun steadies him, fits himself in Jongin's side and under his arm. Joonmyun hand is cold on his waist, a complete contrast to how warm the rest of Joonmyun's body is. Jongin tries not to shiver. He only mumbles a soft sound of gratitude under his breath.

"Wait– The finishing touch–" Joonmyun whips out an atomizer with rubbing alcohol inside, sprays a liberal amount on their clothes.

"Really, hyung? Alcohol? You're using rubbing alcohol as perfume?" Jongin says, snorting.

"Better than smelling like soju," Joonmyun answers with a grin.

Climbing the stairs to Jongin's room is a chore. Joonmyun isn't giggling anymore, at least, but he still has difficulty staying awake while sleeping. Must be fatigue at work – he was doing his thesis before all this, after all. Jongin fumbles with his pockets, looking for his key, and lets out a loud exhale when he feels the cool metal in his hand. Joonmyun is leaning against the door, head thrown back, and even without the proper lighting Jongin can see the faint glimmer of Joonmyun's skin, sticky with sweat.

Joonmyun looks up at him. "For a moment, I thought you were going to let me down."

Jongin leans closer until he feels Joonmyun's hot breath on his skin. He catches the hitch in Joonmyun's breathing – he isn't drunk. Just tiptoeing the line between sleep and wake. "Never."

Jongin closes the door behind him and almost bumps into Joonmyun when he takes a few steps forward. He can feel the shift of Joonmyun's muscles, the way his shoulders tense, the light jerk of his body. He wasn't like this earlier, when he was typing on Jongin's bed and Jongin was trying to study on his desk. He wasn't like this over dinner, either, or when they walked around the block three bottles of soju and sad stories after. Joonmyun was more relaxed, then, a bit more carefree, but the silence of the room gets to him and makes him choke on all of his words.

There's a distant memory of one of Joonmyun's memories in his mind, something Joonmyun told them when they had to stop before turning a corner because Jongin was feeling so damn dizzy that he felt like throwing up. The details are blurred, but it sounds something like There was a time when Baekhyun and I had a few drinks and he had to help me get back to my dorm. But then Chanyeol was already asleep and I had no idea where I put my keys so I had to sleep in his room. And the bed was small. And he said, 'we won't get any sleeping done this way', but he got into bed with me, anyway, and–

"Maybe you should freshen up, hyung," Jongin says. He means, maybe we should take time to breathe.

"Too sleepy," Joonmyun replies. He leans against Jongin's chest for a moment, then pushes himself back up. Just a split-second of indecision and surrender. Joonmyun's more awake than he should be. "I can sleep on the chair. You should… You should get some rest, Jongin."

Jongin rests his hands on Joonmyun's shoulders and guides him to the bed, then motions for him to take a seat. "It's… big enough for two," he says. "We can share."

"Are you sure?"

Jongin laughs a little. "Are you okay with it?"

Joonmyun looks up, down at his clasped hands on his lap, then looks over his shoulder to assess the bed. "I can't assure you that–"

Jongin takes a deep breath. I can't promise not to hold you close, hyung. That's too much to ask.

"–that I won't be thrashing about. I mean–" Joonmyun worries his bottom lip then winces, but presses on like if he doesn't do anything he'll combust. Jongin moves closer, then, tracing the curve of Joonmyun's face, and holds him by the chin. Jongin makes small circles with his thumb on Joonmyun's chin and Joonmyun finally stops nipping on his lip. "I move around in my sleep."

"I sleep like a log," Jongin assures him.

Joonmyun smiles a little. "Okay, then," he says, then shifts in where he's seated on the bed. He moves farther to the side, making room for Jongin. "Go, freshen up. I'll… wait for you."

Jongin excuses himself to remove his contact lenses, and when he returns to finally get settled, he finds Joonmyun curled up on one side of the bed, close to the edge. His hair is brushed away from his face, save for a few strands that get caught between his lips. Jongin climbs onto the bed, then, trying to not make noise as much as possible. He reaches over, then, to tuck those stray strands behind Joonmyun ear, but Joonmyun stirs, turning to the other side so that his face is close to Jongin's chest. He can feel Joonmyun's hot breath through his shirt, tickling and pricking him. He can hear Joonmyun's soft humming and murmuring and thinks, even in your sleep, you hate the silence.

He reaches for the blanket with his toes and throw the sheet over them. Joonmyun shivers, a small whimper escaping his lips, and Jongin snakes a hand up the back of Joonmyun's head, then pulls Joonmyun closer. Joonmyun purrs against Jongin's shirt, the slow upward pull on his cheeks an easy rhythm against Jongin's chest.

"Silly hyung," Jongin whispers. He buries his face in Jongin's hair, still reeking of the scent of smoke and alcohol and sweat, of regrets. Realizations. A promise of striving for a fresh start.

Jongin takes a deep breath, inhaling another time, and catches the scent of coffee somewhere there. He smiles to himself and thinks, You're stuck with me, hyung, so get used to it. You're not getting rid of me soon. He'd addicted, drunk, high on Joonmyun. And this man in his arms is the only cure.

He's a hopeless case.

♬ ♬ ♬

His vision is shittiest in the morning. He isn't exactly blind without his eyeglasses or contacts, but without them seeing clearly becomes a chore. The entire scene unfolding in front of him takes a while to click – the lump of white squiggling out of the cocoon, brown hair sticking out from the covers. A groan, and then a sleepy, "Good morning," directed at him. An equally sleepy smile. Morning breath on his skin, pricking and tickling him. Familiar hands reaching out to rest on his chest, map out a pattern there until he starts giggling.

"Hey, hyung," Jongin mumbles. He hooks his ankle on Joonmyun's own under the covers and pulls him closer. "Good morning."

"Woke up at six," Joonmyun tells him. His voice is muffled by sleep and Jongin's shirt, but Jongin still manages to make out the words, clear as crystal. "I thought of waking you up but you said you don't have classes on Thursdays–"

"And you talk too much in the morning," Jongin interrupts. He tightens his hold on Joonmyun, draping one leg over Joonmyun. He'll have to apologize later, but he hasn't even been awake for five minutes yet. Joonmyun can't hold it against him if he wants to sleep and snuggle more. "Sleep, hyung."

Joonmyun mumbles something that feels really good against Jongin's threadbare shirt. Then he shifts a little so that they're face to face, the tips of their noses touching. Joonmyun's cheeks are pink and his lips are so plush. They'd probably feel good on his own.

"But it's eight," Joonmyun argues. He darts out his tongue to lick his bottom lip, but he only succeeds in holding Jongin's attention and breath. "And the best food in the cafeteria gets served at nine."

"Then we have an hour more to sleep."

Joonmyun laughs a little. "Jongin."

"Hyung," Jongin says, whispers, so soft that it almost feels like breathing. For a moment, he's concerned that he has morning breath and he's in front of Joonmyun, but all his thoughts get flushed out of his system when Joonmyun cranes his neck a little, searching for a point of contact, craving warmth.

Jongin meets him halfway, leaning closer until Joonmyun's lips brush against his own. This is different from the one they shared in that narrow corridor in the club room – it's lazy, more relaxed, more– It's getting hard to think when Joonmyun's slipping his hands under Jongin's shirt, palms cold against his skin, still warm with sleep. Joonmyun's thumbs draw lines along Jongin's stomach and Jongin parts his lips completely on instinct, as if in invitation. But Joonmyun stays dangerously still, only moving, to suck a little on Jongin's bottom lip before snaking his hands around Jongin's waist.

He has no idea what's happening.

"We will take a bath and then grab breakfast," Joonmyun declares. He gives Jongin's sides a light pinch, then continues, "We leave before nine."

Jongin groans – not at Joonmyun mapping out his normally spontaneous mornings, but at Joonmyun pulling away to sit up on the bed. In a last ditch effort to exact revenge, he gets on his knees on the bed and grabs Joonmyun by the wrist, craning his neck to kiss whatever part of Joonmyun's face that he can reach. In this case, it's Joonmyun's earlobe, and Joonmyun lets out the most obscene sound when Jongin nips on his earlobe.

"Bath," Jongin whispers in Joonmyun ear. He wraps his fingers around Joonmyun's wrist and pulls him to the bathroom without a second thought. Joonmyun doesn't put up a fight, doesn't even flinch when Jongin tightens his grip. The door shuts behind them with a soft click and Joonmyun stands there in front of him, eyes fixed on him and nothing else, like nobody and nothing outside of this matters. Slowly, he peels himself of his clothes – pulls his shirt over his head, tugs his boxers down. Pushes them near the door with his foot. To hell with keeping appearances – there's nothing to hide anymore, not when he's naked in front of Joonmyun and Joonmyun's tracing the curve of his body with his gaze.

Joonmyun's eyes trails south, stopping just before he reaches the dip of Jongin's abdomen. He laughs a little. Jongin feels so vulnerable and exposed all of a sudden, until Joonmyun unbuttons his polo, slipping off of one shoulder, and then another before he tosses it where Jongin's clothes are. His pants come off after that, then his briefs, and Jongin looks away lest he submit himself to the urge to sculpt Joonmyun's thighs with his hands.

"Bath?" Joonmyun asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Jongin nods and steps inside the shower, turning it on. The surge of cold water numbs his limbs for a moment, then he's awake, and Joonmyun's standing right in front of him, stripped down to the bone.

He fumbles with the temperature for a while and lets out a loud exhale when the water hits him just right. "Relax," Joonmyun whispers, voice muffled by the rushing of the water to the floor. Jongin hears him clearly, though – if he doesn't, he makes out syllables through the movement of Joonmyun's lips on his skin.

Joonmyun isn't even pressed against him, just tiptoeing and reaching for the shampoo, rough lips pressed to the back of Jongin's ear. It doesn't mean anything. He just wants to rid himself of the stink of alcohol and sadness. Nothing but a nice, warm shower to start the day right.

But Joonmyun has never been good maintaining balance, and Jongin's reflexes are as fast as ever. Joonmyun slips on the suds pooling at their feet and Jongin turns around, snaking an arm around Joonmyun's waist to keep him from falling. Jongin only succeeds in losing a bit of his balance, though, and Joonmyun presses one hand on the wall, the other one holding onto Jongin's shoulder. Joonmyun has a knee pressed to Jongin's inner thigh. Their chests are heaving. Around them, water pools at their feet, and some of the suds in Jongin's hair drips down his face, tracing the bridge of his nose.

Joonmyun slides his hand down Jongin's skin, settling on the small of Jongin's back. He leans on the wall, then – for support or another reason, Jongin can't seem to process right now – and soon Joonmyun is reaching up, flicking off the suds on Jongin's nose.

"You're really cute," Joonmyun says. Some suds drip on the jut of his upper lip, and he blows at them to get rid of the soap on his lips.

Jongin reaches out, cupping Joonmyun's cheek with one hand and wiping off the suds with his thumb. "What are we doing?"

"Cleaning up," Joonmyun answers. He's standing straight, though, slipping one leg between Jongin's own. The slide of their skin makes Jongin's breath hitch. "Because we're a mess."

Jongin gulps hard. He thinks about drowning, about staying well under the sea and floating with Joonmyun. Thinks of the rushing water behind them and the soap in their hair, and the way soap contours Joonmyun's body when it trails down his torso.

"Messy," Jongin whispers.

Joonmyun cranes his neck until their lips touch. Joonmyun's lips feel so warm against his own. "Very messy."

For something akin to chaos, their mess is well coordinated – Joonmyun lets Jongin guide him up, the hand that was once cupping his cheek sneaking to the back of his head to yank at Joonmyun's hair. Joonmyun tilts his head up, lips falling open, and Jongin gives in to temptation, dips his tongue between the invitation of Joonmyun's lips. He licks the back of Joonmyun teeth, the cavern of his mouth, sucks long and hard on his bottom lip until he can taste a mix of water and soap on his tongue. There's still a hint of alcohol there, somewhere, and whatever Jongin misses at first contact, Joonmyun makes up for when he leans in for another kiss. This time, it's Joonmyun who attacks, sucking marks along the column of Jongin's neck until he reaches Jongin's mouth. He gives Jongin's lips a few gentle nips, easing him into the sensation, and then he's sucking on his tongue, tracing every inch of Jongin's mouth as if a conquest to find something more. And Jongin keeps giving, feeding Joonmyun with the same brand of hunger that Joonmyun is claiming his lips with.

Jongin slides his hands down to cup Joonmyu's ass and Joonmyun bucks his hips on impulse. He presses his lips to Jongin's chest, muffling the sound, and Jongin seethes at the sensation, at the slide of their dicks, already hard, against each other.

"Messy," Joonmyun mumbles against Jongin's skin. He looks up, meeting Jongin in the eye, and asks, "Do you– Do you want to–"

Do I want to die right here, right now? There are a lot of ways that he can answer. It's becoming hard to think, though, with Joonmyun looking up at him like this, eyes laced with a hunger Jongin has never seen before. He catches sight of a small bruise on Joonmyun's lip and he thinks, I did that. Not Baekhyun-hyung or any other guy. I did that to him. A familiar sizzle rolls down his abdomen, and he nods like that's what does it for him – the thought that he's marked Joonmyun, that Joonmyun will carry a part of Jongin wherever he goes. That they're here, chests heaving in tandem with each other, in a small bathroom, the heat of their bodies rivaling that of the water beating down on their pressed bodies.

"I want you," Jongin whispers. He feels Joonmyun's cock stir against his skin, and his breath hitches. "I want all of you."

Joonmyun puts some space between them, and Jongin feels torn between wanting to just haphazardly rub against Joonmyun and waiting for Joonmyun to fuck him senseless against the wall. Joonmyun takes things slowly, though, wrapping his fingers around Jongin's cock like he's counting his fingers or plucking petals off a flower. Jongin tries his best not to move so much, tries not to buck into Joonmyun's loose fist. Joonmyun gives his cock a gentle squeeze, teasing, then starts moving, a slow upward and downward motion, a slick twist here, a light scratch of the nail there.

Joonmyun runs his thumb along the vein and Jongin gasps, cries out, swallows it in embarrassment. Joonmyun doesn't laugh at him, though, only meets his eyes in a steady gaze and cranes his neck to meet Jongin's lips, like he means to steal all the sound from Jongin's throat.

"You should sing more," Joonmyun whispers he gives Jongin's cock a few pumps, then rubs circles on the tip. Jongin feels his thighs tremble and shit, he wants Joonmyun to touch him more, touch him everywhere. And he wants to touch Joonmyun. He wants to feel Joonmyun move against him, inside him, in tandem with him. Joonmyun doesn't give him much time to wonder, though, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his chest, then taking a nipple between his lips and playing with it with his teeth. The loose fist around Jongin's cock tightens, and Jongin digs his nails into Joonmyun's ass. The response is instant – Joonmyun's lips tremble on his skin and Joonmyun jerks his hips forward, and Jongin meets him halfway, grinding against him even in the tight wrap of Joonmyun's fingers on his cock.

"You're not good at this waiting thing, aren't you?" Joonmyun asks, smiling a little.

"Never been patient," Jongin whispers. He bucks his hips again, hitting a better angle this time that earns him a gasp and a light nip on his nipple from Joonmyun. "And I think you're shit at it, too."

Joonmyun laughs. His whole body is shaking, and it makes Jongin feel that maybe Joonmyun wants this as much as he does – wants, not needs. That Joonmyun wants him right here, right now, and that maybe Joonmyun is willing to let the water rushing down their bodies wash away all the memories he's forged with Baekhyun. That when they step out of the showers, he'll want him just as much as Jongin does. Joonmyun reaches up, then, tracing the curve of Jongin's face, and brings Jongin closer, crushing their lips together. Sleep is no longer thick in Joonmyun's movements, the way he licks his way inside Jongin's mouth more fervent, more feverish than before. And Jongin keeps giving, moans and groans as he grinds against the press of their cocks against each other. The friction burns.

Jongin parts for some air, then guides Joonmyun's hand to his own cock. "Together," he whispers, choking before he ends. Joonmyun nods and takes their dicks in his hands, a bit too uncomfortable with the way he stretches his fingers apart. Jongin helps him, lays his hand atop Joonmyun's own and motions for Joonmyun to move faster. The jerking is more erratic now, and every light scratch of Joonmyun's nails on his sensitive skin makes him – throw his head back? Tuck his chin and nibble on Joonmyun's ear and lick the shell and whisper all sorts of things in Joonmyun's ears? There is no pattern to this, neither any sense nor logic. All there is is Joonmyun's skin turning cold against his.

"Fuck–" Joonmyun whimpers when Jongin reaches south to cup one of his balls. "Fuck, Jongin– I–"

Jongin does that again, gives Joonmyun's balls a light squeeze and draws lazy circles with his thumb. Joonmyun moans, louder than before, and everything starts to blur in Jongin's mind. Joonmyun pumps them harder, faster, twists their linked hands as they jerk each other off in the hot press of their cocks against each other. He can feel himself getting closer, teetering off the edge, so he leans in to catch Joonmyun's lower lip with his teeth, gives it a light nip, and kisses Joonmyun while rolling his hips, thrusting into their tight fists.

He comes with a low moan, in the messy slide of their mouths, spilling his release all over their knuckles and Joonmyun's chest. Joonmyun's not far off, thighs trembling and chest heavy and all these tiny whimpers spilling from his lips in a clumsy enunciation. So Jongin kisses the giving flesh at the back of Joonmyun's ear, squeezes Joonmyun's ass, dips his thumb in the cleft of Joonmyun's ass and gives Joonmyun's entrance light rubs.

"Jongin, I'm–" Joonmyun buries his face in Jongin's chest. Jongin presses down harder, moves his hand when Joonmyun's fingers begin to shake.

Joonmyun comes with a thin, reedy moan, a string of Jongin, Jongin, Jong–in– spilling from his lips as he rides it out. Jongin doesn't kiss him, listens for the hitch in Joonmyun's breath, the last syllable of his name tumbling from the corners of Joonmyun's mouth. Only when Joonmyun looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, through the mess of wet and tousled hair, does Jongin lean in to capture his lips in a kiss, slow and languid. And Joonmyun melts against his mouth, the groan bubbling on his lips when their cocks, still oversensitive, touch. They stay like that for a few seconds, pressed so close to each other, Joonmyun fitting perfectly in Jongin's arms.

"Hyung?" Jongin says when he finds his voice again.

Joonmyun sucks a mark on his chest. Jongin trembles a little, thighs shaking, but Joonmyun looks up at him and pins him with a stare. "Hmm?"

"I, uh..." Jongin laughs a little. "I... forgot to get us a fresh change of clothes."

Joonmyun chuckles, the sound dripping from his lips like droplets of water converging into rich laughter. He's jabbing Jongin in the stomach, twisting his nipples, slapping Jongin in the ass, but none of those are harmless. If anything, they're saying, You planned this. You planned everything all along, and I can't believe I let you drag me into this mess– But Joonmyun doesn't say anything, just keeps hitting him until all that Jongin feels is not the dull ache of Joonmyun's knuckles digging into his skin but Joonmyun's laughter on his flesh.

The vibrations tickle him, send a shiver down his spine, set off explosions at the tips of his fingers. Makes a choir of angels sing in his ear or something to that effect, except they all sound like Joonmyun and they're singing Someday, We'll Know. And somewhere in that song, he hears himself harmonizing with Joonmyun, their voices melding into one.

He laughs, burying his face in Joonmyun's wet hair. The song keeps playing.

♬ ♬ ♬

Soojung's greeting the following day comes in two forms: a pinch on the arm, then a frown when she says, "How's oppa?"

"Which?" is Zitao's helpful question. It makes sense – Baekhyun would probably be more open to talking with him than with Joonmyun after that hugeass confrontation-slash-break-up, if it can ever be considered one. Or maybe he'd find stuff out through Chanyeol, but the most he's seen of Chanyeol in the past twenty-four hours is a tuft of hair. He contemplates seeking out Baekhyun, but that might not be the wisest idea – this isn't his battle to fight. He's fighting the same war with Joonmyun, yes, but he's just handing out the weapons; he has no right to call the shots.

Then his mind goes back to the time when they were pressed against each other in the bathroom, the time when they stepped out of the showers and ended up laughing between kisses because, "Fuck, it's cold out here!" The time when they tumbled in bed and got the sheets wet and soiled. And then the time when Joonmyun buttoned up Jongin's polo and gave him the fondest smile as he said, "You're really, really cute."

"Hyung's fine, I guess." If fine means Joonmyun isn't shunning Jongin away and retreating to his cave, then Joonmyun's fine. He even uploaded a video on Thursday night, apologizing for the late update and then recommending a new track from Sum 41. And they've been texting ever since. Sure, most of Joonmyun's texts are reminders for Jongin to eat, get some rest, do his homework, I'm okay, don't think about me too much, but at least isn't closing himself off from people. "Yeah, I think he's taking things well. Being busy with his thesis helps."

Zitao looks at him for a while, eyebrows only lightly furrowed but knitted, nonetheless. His lips are twisted in a weird manner that makes Jongin wonder if Zitao thinks he's hiding Joonmyun in his dorm. That would be... really weird. And creepy. "Did you finish my Combos alone yesterday?" Zitao finally asks.

Jongin smiles a little and answers, "Nope."

Zitao cocks an eyebrow at him, then kicks him under the table. "Okay," he mumbles. To Soojung, he says, "Yeah, hyung's probably doing fine."

Soojung only raises an eyebrow at them but doesn't prod. She doesn't ask even on their way to their last class for the day from the cafeteria, or even during the discussion on Impressionist art that Jongin knows she hates. She does hand him her phone halfway through the lecture, though. A text from Chanyeol greets him, saying, yeah hyung's fine, rly doing well tbh? passed his thesis today, 3 days ahead of sked. v weird but hey i'm just rly happy that he's not moping or anything.

Jongin whips out his phone and bites the inside of his cheek when he sees a message from Joonmyun. Told Kim-sonsaengnim that you helped me with some parts of my thesis. He said he's interested in mentoring you come thesis time. Ayieeee ;)

can i get you to idk pre-mentor me or something? kekeke, he replies.

Anything for my favorite ;), Joonmyun replies.

It takes every inch of Jongin to not break out into a huge grin in class. Soojung's shooting him a crazy look, like it isn't normal to feel happy about anything related to academics, and Jongin just shrugs it off. If the professor ever calls him out on it, he can say that he's getting mentored by Kim Jonghyun, program director of the Film department. And that Jonghyun finds him amusing, maybe, but that's just a hypothesis right now. It won't be good for thesis practice even if there's still a good five semesters until then.

He has enough time to train under Joonmyun. They have enough time. He's not in a rush. He isn't going anywhere and neither is Joonmyun. They're stuck – here, together, with each other. And neither of them seems to mind at all.

♬ ♬ ♬

He bumps into Baekhyun on his way back to his room. More like Baekhyun camps out at his room, comfortable in his seat on the floor with his back against the wall, readings and all. Two things about it startle Jongin – one, the fact that Baekhyun sought him out and that Baekhyun looks like shit at the moment, which means the entire 'chaos' affected him; and two, the fact that Baekhyun knows where his room is despite them not communicating outside of broadcasting club activities. A part of him wants to applaud Baekhyun for feeling guilty enough to look like this – hair disheveled, eyes sullen, dark circles under his eyes making him look years older – but part of him knows that Joonmyun wouldn't want to see him like this. Baekhyun can't be as heartless as he seems. There must be something in him, something about him that kept Joonmyun from walking away.

So Jongin lets out a loud exhale and says, "Hyung, you look horrible." He moves closer and crouches, meeting Baekhyun at eye-level. "Have you even been eating?"

"Yeah. Sort of," Baekhyun replies. Whatever stress is written on his features is washed away by the small smile on his lips, the lilt in his voice when he replies to Jongin. There's a glint in his eyes, too, despite the dark circles, and Jongin thinks, maybe that's it, the magic that Joonmyun saw in Baekhyun. The same magic that has won Baekhyun that girl, and has kept Joonmyun on a leash for so long. It's like he brings sunshine wherever he goes just by dropping the right words. A sweet talker – that's what Baekhyun is. An obnoxiously charming sweet talker.

"Do you…" Baekhyun puffs his cheeks, then lets out the air in a loud exhale. "Do you have time to talk?"

Jongin's response is unlocking the door to his room and gesturing for Baekhyun to take a seat. Funny, Jongin thinks, because just twenty-four hours ago, Joonmyun was there, sleeping on the same bed. Sleeping with Jongin, a snug fit in Jongin's arms. Baekhyun and Joonmyun are like a stereo waveform – humming a different tune on two different channels, the left and the right, and coming together in a twisted kind of song.

"Make yourself comfortable, hyung," he says, then, and tosses a bag of chips on the bed in an effort to ease the tension. He's never been good with dealing with people, moreso persons the people he cares about have issues with. "That's my current favorite. Not sure if you're a fan of wasabi but–"

"I was a douchebag," Baekhyun says at the same time that he opens the bag of chips. Jongin looks over his shoulder from where he removes his cardigan. Baekhyun meets his gaze, then munches some chips before continuing, "I'm sorry for being a douchebag and I'm sorry that you three… had to see that. Thing. The other day."

Jongin sits beside Baekhyun on the bed and takes a handful of chips from the bag. "You're forgiven. For being a douchebag," Jongin answers. The word 'douchebag' feels nice rolling off his tongue. He never thought he'd say that – he'd always preferred 'asshat', after all. "But I'm not sure if I'm the one you should be apologizing to."

There's a thick silence for a while, disrupted only by the sound of crunching and munching. The white noise isn't unsettling, but it's not the same as the companionable silence he shares with Joonmyun when they study in the club room, or even when they just eat opposite each other in the cafeteria, the tips of their shoes bumping under the table. His stomach does a tiny lurch. Baekhyun bites a bit too hard on his lower lip. It'll be a bad call to keep eating the wasabi chips with the bruise on Baekhyun's lips, but he keeps munching on them, anyway, like each thin slice of potato will fuel him with energy and give him more reason to continue with his speech.

"Three days," Baekhyun finally says. He swallows hard, clearing his throat before he continues. "It takes him three days to recalibrate. I know he's still… in limbo, probably? So I can't talk to him yet. He won't like that. He… doesn't like being vulnerable. Makes him feel smaller than he already is."

Jongin's heart gives a tiny squeak – or at least he thinks it does, what with the sharp pang of pain in his chest. He didn't know that. He does, now, thanks to Baekhyun.

"He doesn't… seem to like silence, either," Jongin then says.

Baekhyun lets out a loud exhale, stuffs himself with chips again. Jongin takes a handful, too. "You're more observant than I thought," Baekhyun replies.

Jongin raises an eyebrow at him. "I happen to be–"

"His number one fan, right?" Baekhyun finishes. Jongin tenses. He feels something thick lodge itself in his throat, and his muscles clench around that, a lump of words that won't ever come out. "You've followed him for a while already. Man, if you were able to get past the horrendous outfits–"

Jongin snorts. "Ah. Glad to know I'm not alone."

He laughs a little and really, he knows that's a good comment, but Baekhyun isn't laughing. A corner of his mouth is tugged up more than the other, in a weird sort of smile-scowl. Jongin's breath hitches and shit, Joonmyun does that with his lips when he doesn't want to be figured out. When he hasn't figured himself out yet. So Jongin waits for the continuation, waits for Baekhyun to stop looking at him in a way that only makes him realize all the more how the two fit.

"If you got past those awful outfits, then you must have respected him a lot. Liked him a lot." Baekhyun chuckles, soft, scratchy. He shakes his head. "I thought there was just this… fan-idol thing going on. Y'know, the type where the fan worships his idol and basically seeks help from him to be saved, but–"

Jongin gulps hard. "But?"

Baekhyun pops a few crisps in his mouth. There are crumbs at the corners of his lips, but he doesn't brush them off or even lick at them. It adds a bit of character to Baekhyun, Jongin thinks, this certain brand of stubbornness. More and more, it's beginning to make sense, the way Baekhyun and Joonmyun align – Joonmyun needs someone who can break down his firm resolve. Baekhyun needed a puzzle to crack. They needed to appreciate themselves better, and they found mirror images in each other, albeit with a few quirks – Joonmyun with his understated confidence, and Baekhyun with his bright smiles and laughter.

It all makes sense now, and a part of Jongin wishes it didn't. A part of him wishes that this – Joonmyun seeing Baekhyun with that girl, the night drowned in alcohol, the kiss in the showers – did. The tight press of their bodies on his bed after their bath. Jongin meeting Joonmyun in real life and Jongin ditching this perfect image of his online idol for the real deal.

Baekhyun lets out a loud exhale. "But it looks like he was the one who needed saving all along."

Jongin furrows his eyebrows. His first instinct is to say, "Huh?" His second is to lean back and look at Baekhyun, really look at him, just to see if he's bluffing or anything. He doesn't know Baekhyun well enough and sometimes he's shit at body language, so he goes back to the tone Baekhyun used that time. He's always been better at dissecting sound. Baekhyun's voice was steady then, no lilts or hitches or cracks, and he isn't laughing. His shoulders aren't even shaking. He just has that silly smile on his lips that says more than it should – wow, I can't believe I just figured it out, or I can't believe it took you a while to figure that out. Alternatively, I've know him longer than you did but you were the one who fixed him. Made him better.

Baekhyun shakes his head, and laughter begins to bubble on his lips. Finally, he says, "I guess one mess can't make another better, yeah?"

"But–" Jongin worries his bottom lip. "I dunno, hyung. I… didn't do anything. Saving him? What?" Jongin rolls his eyes. "That's crazy! All I did was bug him during residency hours and oh, that thing with his thesis. Yeah, I guess I sorta helped but… to save him?" He shakes his head, laughing. "Nope. Too much for little old me."

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow at him. "Two things, Jongin: you're not little, and you're not old. That's me," he says through gritted teeth. Jongin mumbles an apology, then, and gets cut off by Baekhyun waving his hand about. "We're… too similar. He needed someone so different from him to make him see how he could… I dunno, be better I guess? The things that he can change about himself?" He takes one chip, holds it up against the light. "I dunno if you noticed but he's an old soul trapped in an old guy's body. Worn down by experience. I showed him workarounds but you showed him a solution, Jongin. And solutions solve problems."

Duh, Jongin wants to say, but he doesn't. Instead, he says, "He's not a problem, though."

"Just problematic. A ticking time bomb, actually." Baekhyun laughs a little. "He was bound to explode, eventually. And he already did. You just… managed to keep the casualties to a minimum."

That would be you and him, Jongin muses. And me. But that doesn't matter. The mess has already been cleaned up a bit. Renovations will take a while, but hey – at least this is a start. A slightly clean waveform is better than one loaded with plosives and sibilances. And white noise. Jongin can be the faint music in the background for Joonmyun if Joonmyun's still sick of silence.

"Thanks, hyung," Jongin mumbles. Baekhyun's mid-bite when he stops, looking at Jongin. He slips the rest of the chip in his mouth, then, and Jongin takes it as a sign to continue. "I know it sounds weird but… You were able to make him happy, you know? It's just that things were really messy." Baekhyun gives him a half-smile, half-frown thing, and Jongin laughs a little. "And I think he'd be open to talking to you now? Especially if your intro is the same as what you told me. Just… start with 'sorry I was a douchebag', instead."

"You're something," Baekhyun says, shaking his head. "I used to wonder what he saw in you but I think I get it now."

"Same," Jongin says before he even realizes that he's blurted it out. Baekhyun pinches him in his side but doesn't let go of the bag of chips just yet. "But yeah. I sort of… get things now. Sort of."

"Oh, don't spend time trying to figure me out. You crack that other tough cookie of yours," Baekhyun replies. He looks into the bag, then, and frowns. Jongin guesses that they've emptied it out already. That would be the fastest he's cleaned out a bag of wasabi chips yet. But then Baekhyun dips his hand inside, takes out a lone piece of crisp. "Take it," Baekhyun says. "It's yours."

Jongin snorts. "Yeah, I gave it to you–"

"It's yours," Baekhyun says again, slower this time. "You gave me a bag of chips without a second thought and I ate half of it. Shamelessly." He laughs, but his voice cracks somewhere in the middle. "So take the last piece. As a… peace offering, I guess."

Jongin gives the piece of crisp a long look. It's just a wasabi crisp, Sehun would probably tell him, but this is different – this is his wasabi crisp, something Baekhyun had claimed ownership over earlier but eventually surrendered. So Jongin takes it, marvels at it for a moment, then pops it in his mouth. He chews, noisy, and Baekhyun only shakes his head at him. The smile on his lips remains, though.

Baekhyun rolls up the empty bag of chips and tosses it into the trash can. It's a goal.

♬ ♬ ♬

So Baekhyun and I talked, comes Joonmyun's first text. The second reads, And it went pretty okay?

If there's a major adjustment that he had to make following Baekhyun fucking up and then making things right, it's having to be hyperaware of his phone all the time. Sehun isn't the type to send messages all the time, and if he ever wanted to tell Jongin anything at once then he won't text. He'd call, because Sehun isn't the type to sit around and wait for something to happen. Joonmyun is a fan of texting, though, sends only short messages at first that get lengthier as time progresses. At one point, Jongin had to wait for five messages to come in before he was able to digest the story of Joonmyun's text.

It's only been three days and a few hours since Joonmyun decided to terminate the contract with Baekhyun, but Jongin thinks he's got this down already. He knows Joonmyun doesn't text much in the afternoon because the afternoon heat always lulls him to sleep or at least makes him less productive than he should be. He's most active when having breakfast and then after consultation with Jonghyun. It always seems like he has a lot of things to say, strong opinions on a lot of matters in life. He even has an opinion on how the yellow radish in the cafeteria is served. Jongin only laughed at that, rolled his eyes and said, just eat the thing hyung lol.

can i call u hyung? Jongin replies. It's late in the evening and God knows his energy when it comes to texting starts to decline at 9 p.m.. Joonmyun's response is a buzz of the phone five seconds after, and a soft hey on the other end of the line.

"Sorry, my thumbs are pretty sore," Jongin groans when Joonmyun greets him with laughter. "We were doing major editing earlier and I was using my thumb to hit the space bar every second."

"You're exaggerating," Joonmyun says, doesn't say, you're lying. Joonmyun is careful with words; he knows the repercussions that the misuse of a word can bring, especially in broadcasting.

"Probably," Jongin mumbles, then rushes, "So, you and Baekhyun-hyung talked?" He rolls over so that he's lying flat on his stomach, then shifts in his position when he feels a biting pain in his arms. Who knew sound editing could be an effective workout? "Is 'pretty okay' a euphemism for 'we're friends again'?"

"Maybe," Joonmyun singsongs. There's the danger of Joonmyun and Baekhyun 'getting back together', whatever that's supposed to mean. The mere thought of it makes Jongin want to throw up. "Nah, I'm kidding. We were… calm, I guess. Civil. But I love the introduction – he said he was sorry for being a douchebag and that he'd never pull off the same thing with anyone again."

Jongin laughs a little. Joonmyun hums on the other side of the line, but it isn't because of the silence. This brand of humming – and yes, Jongin has classified them into types – means he knows Jongin is up to something weird. Or was up to something weird a few days back; the timeline varies sometimes. After a while, Joonmyun asks, "You two talked before he went to me, didn't you?"

"No?"

Joonmyun snorts. "You're not sure?"

"I mean yeah, I'm sure we didn't," Jongin mumbles. He's a shitty liar. Even his professors know that. That's why he can't lie about the status of his reports or even the tiny projects. It's awful sometimes. "Fine, fine, we did. Sort of. More like, he apologized to me and said he was repentant. And that he'll give you time to recalibrate before he approaches you or something."

On the other end of the line, Joonmyun chuckles. "He said you picked up on the silence thing," Joonmyun says. His voice trails off and then he's letting out a loud exhale. Something crackles in the phone line a little. "And I figured I owed you an explanation, at the very least." Joonmyun sniffles then exhales again, but it's softer this time. "Since you had to put up with me in the booth, when I didn't want to sing at first."

Jongin doesn't have to strain his hearing to hear the tiny lilts in Joonmyun's voice, the cracks. Doesn't have to listen to a few more lines from Joonmyun to know that his throat probably feels tight and heavy and dry. "You don't have to, hyung. I mean, we're all entitled to our own secrets," Jongin explains. "And really, if you're not comfortable telling me about that then it's–"

"It… started when I fucked up a performance. It was in front of the entire campus back in second year, when I hadn't shifted to Broadcasting yet." There's rustling in the background, then Joonmyun's heavy breathing. Jongin doesn't know what to make of it, but his palms feel sweaty somehow. The thumping in his chest grows steadily louder, each beat heavier than before. Joonmyun is breathing shallowly; he only ever does this when he's running low on sleep or– "In one of our classes, we had to do a musical. All the sections for that particular subject were battling it out for a perfect A in that subject."

Jongin has half the mind to ask Joonmyun what that subject is so he can avoid it, but the thundering pulse just behind his ears numbs him a little. He hums in response, instead, urging Joonmyun to go on.

"We did a… remix of The Phantom of the Opera. In hindsight, it was a pretty ambitious project." Joonmyun laughs a little, but it comes out dry, a bit scratchy. "And I guess I was pretty ambitious, too, for wanting to play the role. Nobody would step up, though, so I got it. Practiced day and night to get my lines right. Stayed late in the theatre with my partner just so we could perfect our songs and our routine."

Jongin clenches his fists when Joonmyun's voice cracks at the word 'perfect'. Joonmyun is probably blowing at his bangs, but he only succeeds in blowing into the receiver. "Everything went well until the finale. That was… The phantom has a solo number at the end and my voice cracked somewhere. It wasn't–" Joonmyun laughs again, but it's fainter this time. Like he isn't sure if he's so keen on laughing at himself.

"It wasn't even the most difficult part of the song, but I guess I strained my vocals too much?" Joonmyun continues. He heaves a sigh, voice even softer than before. "But then if I was planning to pursue a career in singing, I should've been prepared for it already. I guess it's just not for me. So… that's it! That's the story behind the silence," Joonmyun finishes.

Jongin gulps hard and lets himself fall into bed. Never mind that the soft 'thud' will probably be heard on the other side of the line – he hears the same from Joonmyun, too. He's trying to create noise again, albeit soft, and Jongin feels the need to make even the tiniest bit of music just to make Joonmyun feel comfortable again. So he hums – nobody ever said that he wasn't allowed to – just so Joonmyun could conquer his fear of his silence.

"Hey," Joonmyun says after a while. The sheets on the other end of the line rustle again. Jongin mimics it, the sound, and shifts in his position so that he's sitting up, his back against the headboard of his bed. "Say something, please."

"I dunno what to say, hyung. I–" He scratches the blanket and hugs the closest pillow to his chest. "I think you have a beautiful voice. I'd listen record it, to be honest. I'd listen to it everyday."

Joonmyun laughs, snorts, chuckles in no particular order. He sounds just as lost as Jongin is. You don't have to go through this alone, hyung, Jongin thinks. We can get through this mess together.

"You're just saying that because you're my friend," Joonmyun mumbles.

"I don't know about that, hyung," Jongin teases. "Because I don't think friends jerk each other off in the showers–"

"You're missing the point!"

The point is that they've laid down all the cards on the table, and they both won. Or they both lost; it just depends on how you look at it. "The point is that there's still an opportunity, hyung," Jongin says, "to make things better. Fix things, I guess. Or make them look pretty. I mean, that's the bad side of broadcasting, but not all bad things have to lead to more bad things, right?"

Joonmyun lets out a loud exhale. "I wish I had your thirst for life, Kim Jongin," he whispers. "I wish I could have as much wonder for things as you do."

"Hey, hyung, I just got this from you," Jongin replies. "Remember: I've been following your online career for, what, half a decade? Watched all your videos, even the behind-the-scenes that seemed more scripted than anything else." Joonmyun makes a small sound on the other end of the line, like he wants to protest or something, but he doesn't. He just laughs a little, maybe even sighs and he exhales into the receiver. It unties the knots of tension in Jongin's shoulders. "I liked the fact that you didn't give a fuck that you were wearing that awful get up of yours and then giving people song recommendations. Ballads, even!" Jongin snorts, remembering that time when $uho talked about Josh Groban's influence in his life in depth. He can't be mistaken – $uho had tears at the corners of his eyes then. Joonmyun really was moved by Josh Groban's music, and even with the thin veil of a computer screen between $uho and Jongin, Jongin was able to see it.

"I did give a fuck, for the record," Joonmyun argues. "Chanyeol thought the contrast in styles added more… character to $uho."

Jongin laughs a little. "It added more of you to $uho."

Silence is thick again, but it isn't sickening. It doesn't make his stomach turn, and neither does it make his breath hitch. It makes him listen – for any lilts in Joonmyun's voice, for gaps in his breathing because he's good at detecting sound. He's always been good at that.

And maybe he's getting good at figuring Joonmyun out, too.

"drealkimkai2007," Joonmyun says out of the blue. Jongin's eyes shoot up, and he freezes for a moment. He stays still until Joonmyun continues, "I always thought he was pretty obsessed because he always got the first comment spot in my videos. Then after a while, I thought–"

"That Kai's creepy?" Jongin asks. He worries his bottom lip.

"That he's… amusing. And dedicated," Joonmyun answers. Jongin can hear it, the smile in Joonmyun's voice, and that, alone, is enough to make his stomach lurch again, stumble forward, like the day they met in the broadcasting room. "And cute. You… had your picture in your Youtube account."

"I can't believe it, hyung," Jongin says. "You've been my fan all along and I haven't even kickstarted my career yet!"

Joonmyun laughs, hearty and loud, but it doesn't sound shrill. It doesn't make Jongin hold the phone away from his ear; in fact, he presses closer to it, tucking his phone between his cheek and his shoulder. He closes his eyes and just listens to the sound of Joonmyun's laughter, much like a song, and lets it fill his senses until he's laughing, harmonizing with him.

When Joonmyun catches his breath again, he says, "I'm your number one fan." Jongin bites hard on his lower lip and he's glad that Joonmyun isn't around to see the crazy smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth. "Always have and always will be."

♬ ♬ ♬

It takes another break to free up his schedule and set up a Skype call with Sehun. He's back in Gyeonggi-do where his internet connection is more stable and really, there's nothing better to do during the two-week break. It's both a blessing and a curse – with all his course work for the week done when they return to school done and Pokemon Omega Ruby beaten with Joonmyun, there's nothing to keep him from leaving his room for something other than food. Until they go to Busan to visit his grandparents, at least, but that doesn't happen until next week.

"So you're saying," comes Sehun's voice from the other end of the call. "That you're talking to me just because you're bored."

"Basically," Jongin says in agreement, then cackles. It's only half true – he hasn't talked to Sehun in weeks. Both of them have been busy, Sehun even more after asking his professors for more academic work so he can pull his grades up. Somehow, being able to prove that the girl copied from him without his knowledge wasn't enough a form of revenge from him; now he's using grades as his last 'fuck you' to the girl. She'll be so fucking sorry that she played with an academic superstar, Sehun had said before. She'll be sorry and she'll never think of doing it ever again.

"I feel used," Sehun says, then waves his hand dramatically in the air before resting the back of his hand on his forehead. "And I've never felt more humiliated in my whole life–"

"Whatever, Sehun," Jongin mumbles in reply, eyes still fixed on the screen of his DS. He's hatching eggs today in an attempt to get a good nature for his Eeveelutions collection. He's never loved the cycling path in the Hoenn region more than he does now. "So, what've you been up to? Other than studying, of course."

"This and that," Sehun replies, disappears from the screen. Jongin can still hear the faint rustling of the bed sheets in the background so Sehun hasn't been disconnected yet. Sehun resurfaces with a print out of something that he's shielding from Jongin's view. It takes no more than two seconds for him to brandish it in front of the camera, revealing a picture all too familiar that it almost makes Jongin's insides turn. Almost.

"You miss me that much?" Jongin asks.

"Yeah, sort of," Sehun admits. He looks nothing like he does in the picture, a kid bawling his eyes out because Sehunnie misses Jonginnie so much! "I have a couple of friends here but… it's different, you know? There's another Korean here – Minseok-hyung, I think I told you about him before – but he's not you."

Jongin snorts. He doesn't know what to make of that. He does know what to do when his mind starts coming up with all sorts of scenarios, though – focus, Jongin, focus, a voice at the back of his mind says. It sounds a lot like Joonmyun. It is Joonmyun.

"Aww, that's sweet," Jongin coos. Sehun whispers a fuck you at him and Jongin replies, without batting an eyelash, "Nah, sorry, man. Not interested." Years ago, it would've been difficult to say that, but now it comes to him more naturally, almost like breathing. He's no longer anchored to that point in time where he wouldn't let anybody who isn't Sehun into his heart, his life.

"Really?" Sehun asks. He fixes Jongin with a gaze.

Jongin laughs a little. Years later and Sehun is still shit at expressing himself, his emotions. "Really."

Sehun's eyes flicker, and then his lips fall open to a small 'o'. He presses them together soon after, pouting a little, but soon there's a small smile on his lips. Jongin remembers this smile – he still has a catalogue of Sehun's expressions at the back of his mind – and he knows that this one means, oh, okay, even if those two words are some of the easiest to say. This isn't an admission of defeat, not for Sehun. This is an admission of how things are and have become, that life goes on. They're both heading to two different directions, but that doesn't mean they won't meet again at one point in time.

"So how are things going with $uho?" Sehun then asks. "Have you two… I mean, are you two a thing yet or what?"

"It's–" Complicated, Jongin would say, but it's not supposed to be, so instead, he answers, "We're working things out. I guess. I mean, we know we like each other and–"

"If you two know that then what's stopping you?" Sehun laughs, then shakes his head. "It's like prolonging the agony or something!"

Jongin wants to say, we're taking things slowly. The story of Baekhyun and Joonmyun was a rollercoaster ride that went off track, so they can't take the same route. They'd be stupid to do so. So Joonmyun had told him before the break, "Let's see if it changes anything." Makes things better or worse, because time apart doesn't always make the heart grow fonder. Sometimes it allows you to find other things, develop new interests. Find something better for you and find yourself.

So far, Jongin has only found himself spending more time on his phone, lying flat on his back as he sends Joonmyun texts. He wakes up to sticker greetings from Joonmyun, and falls asleep to Joonmyun telling him to get as much rest as you can because you'll need that after the break. Finals week is deadly. So rest up, okay? Sweet dreams, Jonginnie.

A hitch of the breath, and then, dream of me.

"'Delayed gratification' sounds better," Jongin says. He sticks his tongue out at Sehun when Sehun gives him a scowl and rolls his eyes at him. "But we have been talking everyday, and–"

A message comes in. Jongin reaches for his phone from under his pillow and tries not to grin with Sehun still on the Skype call. Just realized that breeding isn't for me :( Will you accept love and affection in exchange for Eevee eggs? :D

"You're smiling. Really wide. It's creepy," Sehun says on the other end of the line. "Did boyfriend send you a text? Or a sexy nude, hmm?"

"Shut up, Sehun," Jongin says, not even looking over his shoulder. He stares at his screen for a while.

The easiest reply is a 'yes', really, but that takes away the meat of his response. It's supposed to be, Sure, hyung, but no refunds okay? Because once you give me that then I'll really think we're a 'thing' already. But he doesn't want to freak Joonmyun out. It's only been a few days since the start of the break and there's still another week until the term resumes – he won't rush into things. He doesn't want to for fear of scaring Joonmyun off. Joonmyun's like one of those tiny Pokemon who'd jump out of the grass the moment you step inside the grassy area. Or he's the peak in the sound wave, the brick wall where the substance of the sound gets cut off when the volume is too loud. And Jongin doesn't want Joonmyun to take a step back or shed some of himself off just because of one mistake. He wants Joonmyun, with all of his quirks. He wants Joonmyun, silence and all.

So he takes a deep breath and says, really, hyung? :) He hits 'send' even before he can think twice.

His phone sounds off. There's the sound of Sehun laughing in the background when Jongin falls face-flat on his bed in an attempt to hide the smile on his lips.

Yup, Joonmyun says. You can have all of me. :)

♬ ♬ ♬

There's still a good three days before classes resume, but Jongin still decides to take a quick trip to Seokgwan-dong. The prices of the game cartridges in the game shop he and Zitao frequent are much cheaper than the normal price – "They're original, I promise," Zitao had assured him – after all. Breeding eggs can only cure his boredom for so long, and he's reached the point where he can't breed for a Timid Eevee without going insane when he hatches eggs of a different nature. The cure? A new game, preferably something that isn't like Pokemon.

Who is he kidding, though? He'll probably end up getting something like it. Or maybe he can check out that game Zitao's been raving about, create his own characters and give himself a better hairstyle in the game since he can't decide on yet in real life.

The game shop is a good twenty-minute walk from the station, ten minutes if you're coming from the Seokgwan campus of K-ARTS. Fifteen, if you're drunk, but Jongin's far from being inebriated right now. He hasn't had alcohol since the start of the break, and they only had shandy that time because Zitao's tolerance is so low, it's laughable.

He takes a deep breath when he reaches the store, then pushes the door forward. Familiar faces greet him. He's been here enough times for the 'game master', Junsu, to recognize him at first glance. A familiar memory of a promise with Joonmyun hits him square on the face, too.

It turns out that the title he's looking for is called 'Tomodachi Life', or at least that's what Junsu tells him. "The new stock just came in, actually, so this is good timing," Junsu says as he leads Jongin to the New Arrivals section. Jongin squints at the cartridges lined up in the shelf, then, going through each and every single one of them so that he won't miss any good titles or at least games that sound interesting enough. There's Fire Emblem and a DS remake of Robocop but with tougher crimes!, but still no sign of Tomodachi Life. Heck, there's even the new Dragon Quest game which is marginally more obscure than Tomodachi Life – at this point, he's pretty positive that Junsu's just shitting him.

He moves a few more spaces and bumps into someone. "Whoops, sorry!" he says at once, bowing to the person in apology.

"Jongin?" comes a familiar voice.

Jongin opens his eyes then looks up, meeting the source of the voice in the eye. He laughs a little. Out of all the places to see each other, this is where they meet during the break – a tiny game shop near the school. A bit too far from Gyeonggi-do, a good distance from Gangnam – and yet here they are. Joonmyun's in one of his Chanyeol-looking shirts and it looks horrible on him, makes him look so tiny and cute. The cardigan is a bit of a savior.

"Hey, hyung," he says in greeting, then, and he straightens his legs as he stands up. "You're… here."

Joonmyun chuckles. "Apgeu's not too far from Seokgwan. Not much of a hassle to travel to." He turns back to the shelves and grabs the lone copy of Pokemon SoulSilver. "You're here to buy…?"

"Tomodachi Life," Jongin answers. He reaches out, meaning to hold Joonmyun's hand, but they're in public so he disguises it as an attempt to snatch the title from Joonmyun. He's not sure how Joonmyun feels about public display of affection yet. He starts with the wrist, giving it a light squeeze, then slides his hand up until his palm is pressed to the back of Joonmyun's hand. Joonmyun feels warm. "You're getting Pokemon SoulSilver?" He snorts. "That's an old title, hyung."

"I… missed this particular remake," Joonmyun mumbles. There's a light pink dusting his cheeks and shit, Jongin thinks, he'd do anything and everything to hold Joonmyun right now. It's been days since they've seen each other, since he's seen Joonmyun's warm smile and his pretty eyes. It hasn't been long since he's last heard Joonmyun's voice, or since Joonmyun last made him feel like exploding but– "And my knowledge on the second generation Pokemon is shit, so–"

Jongin gulps hard. He tightens his hold on Joonmyun. "So?"

"So I thought I'd review or something," Joonmyun answers. "Since you've been raving about it being your favorite and, you know, you look really… cute when you're excited? And talking about it excites you, and–" Joonmyun looks up at him. "Hey, Jongin, say something–"

Jongin bites the inside of his cheek. It's a two-pronged action: to keep himself from grinning so hard, and to not give himself away. But Joonmyun makes it so easy to let the unstoppable force tugging up at the corners of his cheeks have its way and make him grin so hard. Joonmyun makes it feel so right for Jongin to look stupid right here, right now, in front of the one person he's been wanting to impress since day one. In front of everyone in this game shop that he frequents. And Joonmyun's giving a part of himself away so that Jongin can fit inside his tiny heart, weasel his way into it, find a comfortable space where he can spend the rest of his days in.

"Jongin," Joonmyun says again. He reaches out with his free hand to tug at the hem of Jongin shirt. "Okay, look, I know HeartGold is a better choice but I was going for variety–"

"Shut up, hyung," Jongin says. Joonmyun leans back, cocking an eyebrow at him. Jongin shakes his head. "Just– Shut up, hyung."

He slips his hand from Joonmyun's and cups Joonmyun's face with his hands. Joonmyun stills, eyes going wide and lips pressing thinly together. He can feel Joonmyun's pulse on his skin, can hear the tiny gasp that escapes Joonmyun's lips when Jongin takes a step forward, and then another, and another. They're so close now, close enough that he can see Joonmyun's BB cream caking just under his eyes, or Joonmyun's eyelashes, sort but curved upwards. And then that tentative smile on his lips, the light quirk of his mouth, and the slow rise of his chest against Jongin's arms.

"Jongin, we're–"

Jongin leans closer, brushing his lips against Joonmyun's. "Hyung, please, shut up."

He presses his lips on Joonmyun's and immediately he feels his stomach turn, feels a sizzle of heat roll down his abdomen. He can feel the tremble of Joonmyun's lips against his, can hear Joonmyun's shallow breathing and for a moment he thinks, shit, did I just screw things up? Did I ruin this one chance at making everything perfect? Did I– But Joonmyun silences all the voices at the back of Jongin's head when he tilts his head back a little, parts his lips just so. Frozen, Jongin sucks in breath through the tiny parting of his lips, and Joonmyun makes a move. He licks Jongin's bottom lip, teasing it open until Jongin relents. Joonmyun nips on his top lip and Jongin lets out a throaty moan. And Joonmyun swallows it all in the sloppy slide of their mouths, in this messy kiss.

There's a string of saliva hanging from their lips when they part. Joonmyun's looking up at him through his bangs and Joonmyun's mouth is kiss-swollen and Joonmyun's licking his lips, and Jongin's telling himself, Focus, Jongin. Come on, you've got this– But to hell with focus – there's just one Joonmyun standing in front of him, making him feel a plethora of things. One breath and one touch keeping them apart. So he leans in for another round, and another, and another. And Joonmyun takes and gives and gives some more.

♬ ♬ ♬

They manage to make it to McDonald's without ripping each other's clothes off. A bathroom stall is hardly the most romantic place for a yes-we're-finally-more-than-just-a-thing fuck, but they'll take anything they can get. Joonmyun snakes his hands underneath Jongin's shirt and teases his nipples, rubbing slow circles around them. Jongin groans in response and tugs shirt off all the way, but makes sure to hang it in the hook at the door.

"It's my favorite shirt," Jongin reasons out when Joonmyun stops, looking up at him with his lips still clamped on his nipple. "What? It's been with me since I was–"

"I can get you more of those. I wasn't able to tell you but I actually manage my family's business on the side," Joonmyun whispers, then licks a stripe on his nipple. Jongin manages to choke down the gasp threatening to spill from his lips. "And I can get you more of other things. I have connections."

"Don't care," Jongin replies, feeling his throat again. He works on the button of Joonmyun's pants. "I don't need them. I need you."

Joonmyun shakes his head but bucks his hips at the first contact of Jongin's hand against his crotch. It fuels Jongin, feeds his hunger, so he slips two fingers in the band of Joonmyun's briefs, scores a line along Joonmyun's waist with the light brush of his nails. Joonmyun takes in a sharp breath, bites down on Jongin's nipple a bit too hard, and Jongin lets out a gasp. Joonmyun whispers something against Jongin's skin, sensitive and wet, and everything starts to blur – the confines of the space they're in, the press of their bodies, the way Joonmyun guides Jongin's hand further south until his briefs are hanging just above his knees. The time it takes for Jongin to strip down to skin and the friction of Joonmyun's skin against his cock when Joonmyun moves his spit-slick hand up and down Jongin's length.

"Fuck–" Jongin's words are cut off when Joonmyun cranes his neck, meeting Jongin's lips in a kiss.

Joonmyun is a fucking tease even in this cramped stall. He keeps a firm hand on the base of Jongin's cock, and slows down when Jongin starts whimpering in his ear. Jongin gets even, then, reaching for Joonmyun's cock and rubbing his thumb along the tip to spread the beading pre-cum. Their limbs are a tangled mess and Jongin's back aches but the coiling sensation in his stomach is even more of a pain. Joonmyun's hand picks up pace and Jongin does his best to match him, runs his thumb along the vein of Joonmyun's cock and Joonmyun groans out loud at the same time that the door outside creaks open.

Jongin bites his lower lip. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"This is a test, kid," Joonmyun whispers. The tightens his hold on Jongin's cock and gives it a hard pump, and Jongin only widens his eyes at Joonmyun in response. He presses his mouth, hot and wet, on Jongin's ear and says, "The first to make a sound loses."

Jongin reaches around Joonmyun's waist and gives Joonmyun's butt a slap. Joonmyun fights back, loosening his fist, and Jongin tries his hardest not to buck into the touch.

But they only succeed at keeping each other on the edge, teasing each other all the more. Joonmyun muffles his whimpers against Jongin's skin and leaves open-mouthed kisses as his thighs tremble. Jongin licks the shell of Joonmyun's ear and Joonmyun starts thrusting into the tight circle of Jongin's fist. So Jongin gives it to him, jerks his hand in an opposite rhythm that makes Joonmyun move faster. Joonmyun's own hand is fast between Jongin's legs, as well. He can feel himself getting closer, the slapping of their skin against each other growing louder, and everything slows down when Joonmyun looks up him, sharp and focused, and he sees himself reflected in Joonmyun's hungry gaze.

He comes all over Joonmyun's knuckles like that's what does it for him, knowing that there's nothing that matters right now for Joonmyun but the fit of their bodies. Joonmyun reaches his climax not too longer after, spilling his release when Jongin gives his cock one slick twist. Joonmyun tilts his head back, trying to catch his breath, and Jongin would let him if the way his skin flushed under this light isn't so enticing. So Jongin gives in to the allure of Joonmyun's skin, sucking tiny red marks on the column of Joonmyun's neck. Joonmyun's eyes widen at the contact, at the brush of rough lips against soft skin and he throws his head back, thunking it against the door so hard that he groans and lets out a loud, "Fuck–"

Jongin chuckles. "You lose," he whispers. Joonmyun narrows his eyes at him. "You lose, hyung–"

Joonmyun reaches up, snaking his hand to the back of Jongin's head to grab a fistful of Jongin's hair. The yanks him closer until their lips are only centimeters apart, saying, "You cheated." His voice is so soft, he could've been breathing, but Joonmyun's chest is heaving. His breathing is uneven and he's smiling that predatory grin of his, and he's crushing his lips into Jongin. It's like saying, this is payback, except nobody stands to lose. The corners of their lips are both tugged up and the slide of their mouths is so coordinated that it almost seems as if they've been rehearsing this their entire lives. Two voices that have long been finding for a perfect fit, now harmonizing. Nevermind that they're sticky and the whole bathroom smells like sex and they're in public – Joonmyun kissing him like he's memorizing every inch of Jongin's mouth, like he's craving for more than just a taste and a soft touch. And he's kissing Joonmyun back.

He wouldn't mind losing this one time if Joonmyun loses control. It's a win-win situation. Jongin wouldn't have it any other way.

「おまけ」

Chanyeol signals at them from behind the camera, flashing two thumbs up. Jongin would think they're rolling already, but Baekhyun's sort of still fiddling with the lights and Kyungsoo's mumbling something along the lines of you're screwing up the white balance again. Joonmyun takes a deep breath and lets out a loud exhale, but the smile on his lips doesn't fade. It won't be a problem on a normal day, but in this particular case Joonmyun has to wipe off the good guy look from his features.

"I dunno why I'm standing beside you," Jongin whispers. He moves closer, knuckles brushing against Joonmyun's own. He's still well inside the frame, anyway, and Chanyeol probably won't notice. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo trying to fix the white balance is proving to be a good distraction. "When you're wearing your outfit–"

"It's part of who I am, Jongin. You have to accept it," Joonmyun replies. He presses his lips thinly together. "I'll always be this way."

Jongin shifts in his position, turning to face Joonmyun so he can see him better. The get up isn't so bad, if he doesn't drag his gaze south to look at the baggy shorts, and Joonmyun's wearing this $uho outfit with so much confidence that Jongin can mistake Joonmyun for $uho and vice-versa. And maybe Joonmyun's right – $uho will always be a part of him the way that Kai will always be a ghost of Jongin's past. Their personas are like a second skin that's hard to slip out of, a comfortable sweater to wear in cold weather. Something to keep them warm in cold nights.

Luckily, their online personas are quite a match. And really, Jongin has been watching Joonmyun dress up like this for half a decade already; what's another hour?

"You're lucky you're cute," is all that Jongin says in reply. Joonmyun looks up at him, an eyebrow raised, and shakes his head in response.

Chanyeol makes a weird sound of protest a few feet away, and Jongin takes that as a sign to walk back to his 'x' mark. He still doesn't know how they'll make things work, shooting in Joonmyun and Chanyeol's room against a rolled down green screen, but that's part of the charm of doing new things, right? That's part of the entire I'm-dating-Kim-Joonmyun package. He's not even halfway through unraveling the whole thing but he knows, he's positive that he'll enjoy it. He looks to his side and Joonmyun's smiling at him, one of those cheeky $uho smiles that says, Hey, relax. You won't screw up. But if ever you do, I've got your back, and the wrapper comes off completely.

So maybe Joonmyun is the type of package that unravels itself and then wraps itself up on its own without warning. It's pretty weird, but Jongin thinks he has enough experience with weird things for that to be a problem. He can take anything life throws at him right now and if he ever ducks, Joonmyun will be there for the save.

"Together?" Joonmyun whispers from beside him. He doesn't even have to look at Joonmyun to know that Joonmyun's grinning.

Jongin takes a deep breath. Chanyeol will kill them if they keep at this. Their image is tough and cool, not silly and in love, but then this week's top track is a love song so maybe this will work. They can make it work.

Jongin nods. He meets Baekhyun's eyes, sees the small smile at the corners of his lips. It's comforting.

He takes a deep breath and says, "Together."

Baekhyun counts down to one. Beside him, Chanyeol says, "And, action!"

The red light blinks at them, and then Joonmyun's talking with that $uho kind of swag of his. It sounds more believable with only a few inches between them, with Jongin seeing his idol in action up close, and Jongin thinks that hey, maybe the outfit isn't so bad. Maybe the dollar sign in $uho's name isn't so bad, either. And maybe the concept of making his debut in a video with Joonmyun isn't the worst possible that they've ever come up with.

"This is your favorite, DJ $uho–"

Remembering this part, Jongin smiles, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "–and this is DJ Kai–"

"And we will be bringing you the hottest songs this week, straight out of the oven."

"You're tuned in to E-X-O, the hottest program online, in this planet, and beyond."

one | two | three

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exo: one heart is never enough alone (3/3)

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