rustle | exo: one heart is never enough alone (2/3)

"Cheers!"

Jongin clinks his glass of water with the rest of the group. The plan was to grab a few drinks outside, in a small drinking place just a few blocks away from the university, but Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol still have classes in two hours. They have evening classes, Jongin recalled Joonmyun saying a few days back, so he'd agreed without question. Twenty minutes after, here they are, in the cafeteria, snacking on tteokbokki and mulmandu while toasting using glasses of water.

Baekhyun nudges Soojung in her side, saying, "Oh come on! Don't be a killjoy!" Soojung sticks out her tongue but gives in after a while, then jabs Baekhyun lightly on the arm. Kyungsoo chuckles, but doesn't say anything, instead preferring to sink his teeth in tteokbokki. Chanyeol follows suit then engages Soojung in a conversation while chewing. It's gross, Jongin thinks, but Chanyeol has this uncanny ability of making Soojung comfortable enough to talk to him even with some of the gochujang catching on the corners of his mouth.

"Oppa, you look awful," Soojung mumbles, then reaches over to help Chanyeol wipe the sauce off his lips with tissue. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and bumps his hips into Baekhyun's, saying, "Move. I can't stand these two. They make me sick."

"Everything makes you sick," Baekhyun retorts. Kyungsoo shrugs, then goes back to eating. They fall into a conversation on sound waves after a while. That weans Joonmyun off the banter of the two and makes him turn to face Jongin.

"So you're part of the club now, huh?" Joonmyun says, voice almost dropping to a whisper as he ends. He shakes his head a little then laughs, like he can't believe that Jongin actually passed the exam. Jongin can't say he's not surprised, either, considering his track record with enunciating words properly, but he can't say he's not… even the slightest bit affronted. I trusted that you trusted me! he wants to tell Joonmyun, wants to grab Joonmyun by the shoulders and shake him, wants to whisper in his ear, but hyung, how was it? Did I make you proud? But he doesn't. Instead, he waits with bated breath and holds everything in until Joonmyun parts his lips to speak again.

"Okay, before anything else, let me clear this up – I had faith in you and I was positive that you were going to make it through, but man…." He narrows his eyes at Jongin, looks at him with a careful, scrutinizing gaze. Jongin feels so small all of a sudden, feels as if he should've worn something more formal. A suit, maybe. Or he could've at least fixed his hair instead of appearing at the doorstep of the club room with his hair unstyled. "Nearly perfect enunciation. Good enough emotions for the spiels. I felt compelled to buy the shampoo, by the way." Joonmyun chuckles. "And the opening song for the program!"

"I love Walk the Moon," Jongin mumbles. Joonmyun looks at him with furrowed eyebrows. He repeats his statement, clearer this time. "I said, I love Walk the Moon. Been following them since… the day you posted that Anna Sun recommendation. I think their songs are fun?"

Joonmyun nods. "Ah, yes. It's a… nice break from the sad songs most artists sing nowadays. Or the pop songs. Ah…" He shakes his head. "I almost got sad when I heard Mraz doing something that sounded a lot like Train. And then he released his new album and I was blown away. Everything sounded great. He sounded like himself again."

Jongin laughs a little. "The same old Mraz that we fell in love with."

"Been a fan since he released Sleep All Day," Joonmyun whispers. He almost sounds wistful. It's not as if he has all the lilts of Joonmyun's voice memorized by now that he can interpret each and every one of them, then attribute one to a particular emotion. That he will still need to practice on.

Joonmyun pops a piece of tteok between his lips, then turns to look at Jongin. "Do you… know Alex Vargas?"

Jongin knows this – this is how Joonmyun begins most of his weekly recommendations. He'd pose a question, and then give an introduction about the singer. Describe their style, try to find an artist with a similar tone or timbre, then recommend that artist to his viewers as well. And then he'll start playing the song, and at the end of the video he'll have a link to the artist's latest single. A promise of seeing him again, this time with a new recommendation. Fade to black. The end.

So he says, "He sounds familiar," not, I might have listened to a few of his songs already.

Joonmyun's eyes glimmer with a light Jongin hasn't seen before. The corners of his mouth tug up into a wide grin, a smile that reaches the corners of his lips. He drums his fingers on the table then shifts in his seat, knees bumping into Jongin's. A familiar sizzle of heat rolls down Jongin's stomach, making his insides turn, and he takes a deep breath in an attempt to still his heartbeat steadily growing faster in his chest. But to no avail – Joonmyun hasn't stopped tapping a rhythm on the surface, and Jongin hasn't looked away from Joonmyun's eyes, the bridge of his nose, the dip of his lips.

"He used to be part of a band named Vagabond," Joonmyun begins. He licks his lips and Jongin follows the motion with his eyes. "But he decided to disband the group in 2010 to go with songs that are more his style. Something less–"

"Pop-ish. Something rawer," Jongin continues. He gulps hard, bites too hard on his lower lip. He winces. "Sorry. It's… a classic story of artists, isn't it?"

Joonmyun doesn't seem to buy his excuse, but he continues, anyway. He tells Jongin about Vargas collaborating with a group to create trance music, talks about Vargas' first album as a solo singer and how it topped the charts on the day of its release. He talks about how Vargas' songs touch the soul and how he sounds like Matt Wertz and Jon McLaughlin without the pop.

"You knew all that, didn't you?" Joonmyun says just before he ends. Jongin shakes his head, turns to the table to stuff his mouth with tteokbokki to find none. "You could've just said so. I wouldn't mind."

"You sounded so into it, though," Jongin mumbles. He worries his bottom lip some more, then meets Joonmyun's eyes through the slits between the hair of his bangs. "Sorry?"

Joonmyun shakes his head then reaches up, pinching Jongin's cheeks without preamble. "Silly kid," he says, and then Baekhyun's grabbing his attention, complaining about Kyungsoo being extra violent and extra everything. Hyung, help me! So Joonmyun does. He gives Kyungsoo a stern look and says, "Behave," and Kyungsoo sinks back in his seat. Kyungsoo elbows Baekhyun in his side, though, in a last ditch effort to contain himself.

Jongin tells his heart that, too – to behave, stay still, to not jump out of his chest. He succeeds for a while, until Joonmyun transfers the melody he's tapping his fingers to to Jongin's thigh, the cold pads of his fingers pricking Jongin's skin.

Jongin takes a deep breath. He watches the slow, torturous tapping of Joonmyun's fingers on his skin and thinks, there's no escaping this. Not not, not ever.

It's not as if he'd ever wanted to escape, in the first place.

♬ ♬ ♬

Officially being part of the broadcasting club means having to render five hours of residency a week. It's not such a big requirement – all Jongin needs to do is to stay at the club room for an hour today and he'd have already completed the five-hour minimum. He doesn't even have a set number of tasks in order for his stay in the club room to be counted towards his rendered hours. He just has to sit there and stare at the walls or the carpeted floors. He can even do his homework there and Joonmyun won't even call him out on it.

On his first day, though, he finds himself sitting opposite Joonmyun, sifting through his readings for his cinematography class.

"Can I really do this here, hyung?" Jongin asks, fumbling with the edges of the papers. Joonmyun looks up from his doing and addresses Jongin with a cock of an eyebrow, his bottom lip jutted out. He's been reading and scribbling notes and then reading again for the past thirty minutes, not even turning to Jongin to utter a word. From time to time, Jongin catches his watching Jongin through the slits of his bangs, but that's about it. No conversations, no low humming, Nothing but the faint sound of instrumentals of Coldplay songs playing in the background to break the silence.

"Well, there's nothing to do right now. Best to get your homework done, instead, yeah?" Joonmyun says, and then he's back to studying.

Jongin doesn't take it against him. He is doing his thesis, after all, whatever it is. All Jongin knows right now is that involves a lot of side-by-side comparisons of branded content. He'd caught Joonmyun taking out two sheets of paper, each a print out of a print material for just one brand. One of them looked like it was made years ago, what with the browns at the corners and the washed out look. The other looked brand new, or at least like it was made only a few years ago. Everything else is a blur. He'd ask Joonmyun if he had enough courage to, but Joonmyun isn't talking about it for a reason. Whatever it is is still beyond Jongin. If Joonmyun needs then maybe, just maybe, he'll ask for it. He'll ask Jongin to make things lighter for him.

Jongin glances at his wrist watch, then turns back to his readings. He risks one last glance at Joonmyun before shunning all distractions away and lets the soft sound of Coldplay songs make the flow of his readings easier to digest.

Four in the afternoon is an ungodly hour to be studying alone, to be honest, so Jongin doesn't find it a surprise when he wakes up to Joonmyun poking his cheek, Joonmyun's index finger and thumb pressed together like he's planning to pinch Jongin if he doesn't rouse from his sleep soon. "Been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes but you looked so tired so…" Joonmyun laughs a little. "Yeah. I… hope you're feeling refreshed now?"

Joonmyun's tone is too light, too soft that it tickles Jongin's insides and makes him want to giggle. He doesn't. He's much too sleepy for that. Instead, he tries to mumble, "Mm I'm okay now, hyung. Thanks," and prays to God that Joonmyun understands. If there's anyone in this world who understands his sleepy talking other than his mother, it's Sehun.

Sehun. He feels for his phone in his pockets and sits up straight again. He wipes the drool at the corner of his lips with his shirt sleeve then frowns when he realizes that Joonmyun still watching. The once small smile on Joonmyun's lips grows wider, like what Jongin has just isn't gross. It is. If Jongin saw himself doing that then he'd be grossed out, for sure. Joonmyun is weird; Jongin is even weirder for liking Joonmyun.

He presses the 'home' key of his phone and finds neither a text nor any sign of life from Sehun. A part of him feels strange, still unaccustomed to Sehun's new brand of silence; a part of him is actually expecting it. It's only a matter of time until distance put a few limitations to their friendship. This is just the beginning, and Jongin should ease himself into the concept of not having Sehun around anymore. He needs to get used to it faster; time won't slow down for him.

He stuffs his phone back in his pocket, then turns to look up at Joonmyun again. "You okay? You looked… pretty upset or something," Joonmyun asks.

Jongin shrugs. When he feels the tight knots in his throat loosen, he says, "It's okay. Was just checking the time."

Joonmyun laughs a little. "We have a wall clock, Jonginnie."

Jonginnie– There's a lilt in Joonmyun's voice, somewhere between the soft 'ng' and the roll of the vowels off his tongue. It almost makes Jongin's name sound like a song. Jongin doesn't let that distract him, keeps up the act and laughs a little for effect. "Sorry. Still sleepy. I'm… not making sense–"

Joonmyun reaches over, then threads his fingers in Jongin's hair. For a moment, Jongin tries to remember if he'd put gel in his hair, then recalls that he hadn't. He's never been more grateful of his laziness. "You want to take a break? It's… past your residency time, after all. You've already rendered an entire hour today. You can leave if you have to sleep in your dorm or something."

Jongin groans. "You want me to leave, hyung?"

"No, I meant–" Joonmyun lets out a loud exhale, then shuts his book. He lets the pen that was once in his side drop beside the book. "Okay, come on, let me take you to your room–"

But I still want to be with you, Jongin almost says, but the smallest bit of sense bites his brain and makes him swallow those words. Instead, he says, "It's okay, hyung. I can manage."

"I insist," Joonmyun says. He stands from his seat, tucks his book under his arm, then walks over to where Jongin is. "Up, up! Let hyung take you to your room–"

Jongin gives in eventually, leaning into the warmth of Joonmyun's body pressed to his side.

They don't quite make it to Jongin's room, but they do make it to the cafeteria. By then, Jongin is awake enough to lean back into his own space and out of Joonmyun's own. "Sorry about that," he tells Joonmyun later, once they've settled down on a seat, and offers to buy Joonmyun food. "Seriously, hyung, that was embarrassing. You didn't have to… drag me all the way to my room! You've just left me there–"

"And let someone else find you still asleep?" Joonmyun shakes his head. "Nope. Not gonna let that happened. But I won't say no to free food only because my knees hurt a bit already. You're… really tall."

Jongin laughs a little. "I apologize in behalf of my limbs," he teases. Joonmyun juts out his bottom lip at Jongin and really, if he's aiming for a look of frustration, he's not successful. "Anything you want, hyung, just tell me."

Joonmyun leans back, eyes still fixed on Jongin's own. "Anything?" he asks, like he means to ask for something incredulous. The whole menu? Everything that the cafeteria has to offer? Something from outside the campus? Jongin should've been more specific. He'd blame lethargy but he can't use that same excuse, not when he has enough sense already to attempt tearing his gaze from Joonmyun. He has some trouble committing to it, peeking at Joonmyun from the corners of his eyes.

He has a bit of difficulty breathing, as well. It's becoming harder with the slow-forming smile on Joonmyun's lips blooming into a grin now.

"Really? Anything?" Joonmyun repeats.

Jongin pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and counts his money. He has enough to buy the two of them at least three rounds of bibimbap. So yes, anything. He's getting his stipend next week, after all, and he's saved up at least half of the allowance the school had given him. "As long as it's on campus, then yes."

Joonmyun parts his lips to speak, shuts them closed, then parts them again. He wets his lips a little, then answers, "Coffee. Just coffee is fine."

"Wow. You must have coffee running through your veins or something," he mumbles. He excuses himself to get their orders and Joonmyun finally tears his eyes from Jongin, breaking the spell.

The line in the cafeteria isn't long, but it still takes him a few good minutes to get to the cashier and place their orders. He keeps his mind busy until then, runs through a schedule in his mind for the following week. He risks a glance at Joonmyun, meaning to check if he's bored out of his wits waiting for 'his freshman friend' or if he's gone back inside his academic cave, but he isn't. Instead, Joonmyun is looking at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, with the same amount of attention he puts into studying his material. Jongin knows, because he spent the earlier part of his study session watching Joonmyun from the corners of his eyes. And that's how he caught Joonmyun sneaking glances at him, as well.

Then the corners of Joonmyun's lips curl up into a peculiar smile. Jongin looks back in front of him and fumbles with the bills in his wallet. When he returns to their table, Joonmyun looks up at him with the same look in his features and a question on the curl of the lip.

"Americano?" Joonmyun asks.

Jongin nods, echoing, "Americano."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, with Joonmyun swaying his head to some beat Jongin can't hear. They don't talk about what happened earlier, or even the Alex Vargas incident the day before, but Joonmyun does ask Jongin to tell him about his first week in university, his favorite subject so far, "Is Jonghyun-sonsaengnim a good professor?" Jongin nods, then broaches the subject of cinematography and indulges Joonmyun in his troubles so small that probably make him look like some kid wanting to appease his idol. And maybe he's exactly that.

At least Joonmyun's smiling at him, the tension that was once in his shoulders now gone as the throws his head back in a fit of laughter. This look suits Joonmyun better.

♬ ♬ ♬

He doesn't get to talk to Sehun until the weekend. "Been super busy as usual. 28 units, man. I don't even know how I survived the first week," Sehun grumbles. His hair is a mess and Jongin would reach out to fluff it like old times, except there's the barrier of a screen between them. Get used to this, kid, a voice at the back of his mind says, but who is he kidding? He's never been good at listening to his own voice of reason. Sehun's, though, he's never had difficulty listening to.

"Survived it without being reduced to a sobbing mess, even," Jongin teases. Sehun may try to deny it but he knows Sehun's the worst when it comes to dealing with separation. The first time they were apart, when the Oh family went overseas for a trip, his mother emailed Jongin's mother and sent her a picture of a sobbing Sehun. Captioned it 'Sehunnie misses Jonginnie so much, awww!'. Jongin still has a copy of that in his inbox. From time to time, he'd glance at it just for kicks; often, he'd stare at it for a few good minutes and think, what changed?

Maybe he should delete that email from his inbox. He should.

"Congrats on passing the test, by the way. Bet you made your idol proud," Sehun mentions, then, and Jongin's ears perk up at the mention of 'idol'. A corner of Sehun's lips is curled up and he's narrowing his eyes in a way that makes him look more predatory than teasing. Ugly, Jongin tells himself, but his insides still turn a little. Like a half lurch, but a lurch nonetheless. Stop it, Jongin! "How did he react when he found out that you know about the $uho thing, by the way?"

Jongin snorts. Joonmyun hadn't reacted that much. Nothing worth noting, really, except– "He said not to call him that name in front of other people."

Sehun furrows his eyebrows. "But… other people know, right? I mean–" Sehun yawns and stretches his arms over his head. His shirt rides up just a little. Jongin makes a mental note to remind Sehun to buy new shirts. "Doesn't your girlfriend know that he's $uho? And then your other guy friend? And $uho's other broadcasting homies?"

"Maybe it's one of those open secrets that people don't talk about," Jongin reasons out. Like him and Sehun being the best of friends and only just. Like Jongin maybe being too fond of Sehun and not of his girlfriend who didn't approve of having a long distance relationship with him. I'm okay with long distance relationships, Jongin remembers himself thinking back then. Nothing much has changed. "And she is not my girlfriend."

Sehun cocks an eyebrow at him. "You hang out with her all the time and you say she's really pretty. C'mon, you probably like her already! You just don't know that you do!"

"Sehun–"

"C'mon, dude, it's just me." Sehun wiggles his eyebrows at Jongin and Jongin feels a pinch in his chest, somewhere to the left. The sting spreads across the expanse of skin and numbs him for a moment. Sehun grins at him, big and bright, and then the numbness is replaced by a dull ache. He looks so sure of himself, like he knows Jongin is just kidding or he knows that somewhere deep in Jongin's heart, he does acknowledge that he has feelings for the girl. He just doesn't want to say it out loud.

The last thing Jongin wants to do is to break Sehun's heart this way – it's not as if there's any other way that he can. Nonetheless, he says, "I don't like her. She's not my girlfriend. I don't like her."

Sehun nods in thought, slow and deliberate, then parts his lips a little. "What about… that other friend of yours? The shy guy?"

Finally, Jongin thinks. Finally, you're beginning to think.

He has every reason to like Zitao. Zitao is nice. A bit whiny, but then he's just looking for a touch of home in everything so Jongin can live with that. Zitao isn't such a bad study partner, either, though he'd much prefer Zitao to keep a dictionary beside him at all times. Zitao indulges him in his weird ideas, too, and Zitao hadn't judged him when he said that he's been following $uho's online career for years already. Zitao doesn't think twice about buying him ice cream, either. So really, there's no reason to not like Zitao. Maybe with a little push, he could develop feelings for him.

The thing is, Zitao isn't Sehun. He doesn't give Jongin a much needed kick in the ass when his ideas turn from bad to ridiculous. Zitao doesn't hold off on the ice cream even when Jongin's showing signs of coughing already. Zitao doesn't know that an alternative to ice cream is banana uyuu. Copious amounts of tteokbokki, as well.

Zitao isn't Joonmyun, either. Not that he likes Joonmyun that way. So maybe he's wondered how Joonmyun's lips taste or how they would feel moving against his own, but all his fantasies involving Joonmyun always end with Joonmyun giving him a funny look and saying, Focus, Jongin, don't think of anything else. It's as if his subconscious is setting limits to this whole fantasy-building thing, telling him that, you can't crush on your idol, your life peg. It's like crushing on yourself.

"Shy guy's name is Zitao. And nope, I don't… like him either." Jongin gulps hard, bites on a hang nail and scowls when he tugs at harder than he should. "I just like studying right now. I'm loving cinematography class. It's great!"

"It doesn't give you a boner, though."

Jongin frowns. "Not everything has to give me a boner." Some things just have to give him a heartache. Songs do that for him. It doesn't have to be a person all the time. It can not be caused just by Sehun. "What if I've just… decided to focus on studying for now? What if I'm finally taking life seriously? What if I've decided to commit myself to studying my whole life?"

Sehun narrows his eyes at Jongin one more time, tilting his head to the side. Jongin blames the video quality and the distance but he knows this look – he's supposed to know this look. But there's a thin veil blurring the image somehow. He moves closer to the screen, trying to see clearer, but to no avail. This isn't a song he knows inside and out.

"Nah, kid. I'm sure you're shitting me."

Jongin cocks an eyebrow at him. "You. You! You're the absolute worst! I'm ending this friendship!" He points an accusing finger at the screen. "I hate you!"

Sehun's shoulders shake a little, then he's erupting into a peal of laughter. This tune Jongin knows so well, has found himself waking up to and sleeping to at odd hours of the day. This is the same brand of laughter that has gotten him out of nasty ruts and pulled him out of fits of depression over bad exam results (a score a little below his target, at least). This is Sehun, the same boy he has grown up with, the same boy he fell in love with the moment Sehun extended a hand in his direction and pulled him out of being shoved face-first into a sandpit. This is his Sehun, the person who knows him more than he knows himself. His brother, his best friend, and only just.

Sehun hasn't come down from his high yet, but isn't wheezing anymore. There's still laughter bubbling on his lips, though, so Jongin doesn't wipe off the pout on his lips just yet. "And I love you, too," Sehun whispers, voice still breathy, and Jongin feels his muscles tense, feels the soft corners of his mouth tighten, feels his lips quiver.

He keeps lips pressed together and says nothing in reply, keeps shaking his head in an effort to not let Sehun see the crazy smile on his lips.

No, you don't, a small voice in Jongin's head says. But I do.

♬ ♬ ♬

With nothing to do on a weekend, he decides to spend time in the club room instead of in the library. The silence in there always helps him concentrate, but sometimes the low thrumming of the air-conditioning lulls him to sleep more that it sets his brain cells at ease. That, and the library's closed on Sundays. Bless the administration, really. The white noise in the club room keeps him awake enough for at least an hour, though, so he takes the leap and prepares his things, bringing his reading material for three subjects. He shoots Zitao a text, too, saying, wanna grab a snack at 4? or ice cream yeees? :D He isn't the best at keeping in touch, but he tries hard. He spent his first two academic years alone; he wouldn't want to go back to those days ever again.

YES then we can go to the game shop yeees? :D Zitao replies.

Jongin laughs a little then types up a reply before slipping his phone back in his pocket. yeah yeah sounds like a plan!

He walks down the corridors of the Film building and crosses the bridge to the Broadcasting building. It takes no more than a swipe of the ID to gain access to the club room. The lock comes off with a few clicks then he swings the door forward, anticipating nothing but emptiness to greet him. Wrong again, Jongin. Your prediction skills are shit, he tells himself when he spots a familiar figure sitting behind a desk. He summons his best smile, then, and texts Zitao, dyou mind if a friend of mine tags along?

"Oh hey," comes Joonmyun's greeting, coupled with sleepy eyes. Joonmyun's smile is soft at the corners, but he looks as if he hasn't even had any rest the night before. Possible, Jongin thinks to himself – thesis-writing creates monsters out of people, so articles say. Joonmyun just happens to be an interesting and cute monster.

Jongin takes a few steps inside and shuts the door closed behind him. He's careful not to make his footsteps heavy so as to not disrupt Joonmyun's peace even more. Had he known Joonmyun would stay here, he'd have resorted to locking himself up in his room and pulled up a playlist with upbeat songs that will keep him awake for at least two hours. Joonmyun doesn't seem to be too bothered, though, gesturing for him to come closer and pointing at the seat opposite his. "Good timing. I was beginning to fall asleep. I've been here since 9 a.m.."

"Why," is the only thing Jongin manages to say in response. Who even starts studying on a weekend at nine in the morning? Joonmyun looks like he hasn't eaten anything either, and it's close to one in the afternoon already. "Hyung, did you even grab breakfast?" he asks, then, and Joonmyun uses weak laughter as a response. Joonmyun rubs his eyes, too, which Jongin interprets as Joonmyun not even having coffee yet. "How are you still alive?"

"Magic!" He makes elaborate gestures with his arms, then, terribly uncoordinated, and knocks over a few things on his desk. Nothing that will ruin the paper he's scribbling notes on or can hurt his laptop. He fusses with the pens and places them back in the cup, then turns to Jongin with an apologetic look. "Sorry, I'm just– The ideas hit me the moment I got up so I thought, why not start working at once? Just… not in bed, because I always end up falling asleep when I work in bed–"

Jongin grabs Joonmyun by the wrist when he almost hits something else on the left side of his desk. "Hyung," he says, voice dropping a few notches lower. "I'm going to take you to the cafeteria and you are going to eat."

"But–" Joonmyun looks up at him, then at his laptop. "But my paper, the ideas–"

Jongin walks over to the other side of the desk and peeks at what's displayed on Joonmyun's screen. Everything makes sense until the last few lines that are laced with typographical errors and keysmashes. "Save the doc and then you can work on that when we get back," he replies. He shakes his head when another 'but' escapes Joonmyun's lips. Cute, he'd say on a normal day, but Joonmyun looks like a zombie right now. And zombies aren't supposed to be cute. Yet. "Hyung, please?"

Joonmyun takes a deep breath, then turns back to his laptop to press a few keys. After a while, he pulls the screen on his laptop down and unplugs the charger. "Can I at least take my laptop in my? In case I get good ideas?"

Jongin takes a deep breath. You'll go through the same thing someday, Jongin. You have to understand what he's going through. "Fine, fine. Come on, let's go."

Joonmyun manages to summon a chuckle in response. He doesn't sound sleepy at all, still sounds like his usual self even while fashioning his look. There must be some magic involved here.

It takes them longer than the usual to get to the cafeteria. Jongin offers to carry Joonmyun's laptop, and Joonmyun puts up a fight until he almost trips over his own feet in his state of lethargy. "I'm better than this on most days, I swear," Joonmyun says, heaving a sigh as they turn around a block and walk inside the cafeteria. "It's just… I thought I could function with only two hours of sleep–"

Jongin shoots him a stern glance and says, "Hyung."

"When you reach this point in your academic life when your thesis-writing muse bugs you at obscene hours, you'll understand," Joonmyun argues. He reaches for Jongin's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, then hands him a couple of won bills. "Americano. The tallest they have. You can buy whatever else you want with the change – I just need my coffee."

What Joonmyun needs right now, Jongin muses, is good food. Also, enough sleep so he can type his ideas on his laptop without peppering his document with typos. Joonmyun's eyes are sharp, though, his gaze focused and unrelenting. The soft curves of his planes are all hard edges now, save for the small upward tug of the lip. Jongin resists the urge to reach over and ease the light furrow of Joonmyun's eyebrow, pull up the corners of his mouth, maybe run a thumb along the gentle swell of Joonmyun's bottom lip. He resists the urge to just take Joonmyun in his arms and whisper in his ear until Joonmyun gets it, Shut up, hyung. Just shut up and stop thinking and get some rest.

Joonmyun takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders fall forward. "Whatever you wish," he says, waving a hand in the air. Joonmyun finds the energy to jab him in the arm, but it doesn't sting. If anything, it feels more like Joonmyun pawing at his skin, seeking attention.

"Eat for me!" Joonmyun calls out after him.

He shakes his head and whispers, "Don't make me feed you. I swear to God, don't make me feed you."

Jongin gets a close encounter with Joonmyun's stubbornness when Joonmyun refuses to touch his food, save for the seaweed soup. "I am not going to eat all of that, hyung," Jongin reasons out, shaking his head even as Joonmyun pushes the bibimbap in his direction. He understands not feeling well enough to eat but if Joonmyun really wants to get things done and maybe even stay up until the following morning, he'll have to eat something. This dish, ideally, but Jongin will be glad if Joonmyun so much as considers touching the egg. "Come on, hyung, please? I'll hold your laptop hostage if you don't eat."

Joonmyun groans for a moment, then lets his hand slip from the cover of his laptop. "That's foul," he mumbles, then says, "If I eat, will you get off my case and let me work in peace?"

Jongin leans back a little and lays his chopsticks on an empty dish. Joonmyun's features have softened considerably, but there's still the hard-edged resolution in his voice, packing just enough force to push Jongin away if Joonmyun wanted to. Jongin presses his lips together, his front teeth almost digging into the soft skin, and he fixes his gaze on his own food. Only then does he realize that he hasn't touched his food that much, either. There's a small doodle of a frowning face on the hard egg yolk on his bibimbap, but that's about it.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I just wanted to–" Jongin takes a deep breath and blows at his bangs. "I know I shouldn't be meddling but you looked so tired and you still wanted to work on your thesis so I thought, hey, if hyung eats then he'll get enough energy to power through his school stuff again and–"

"Feed me," Joonmyun says, voice so soft he could have been breathing. He lets tongue peek from between his lips and licks along the swell of his bottom lip. "My hands are shaking and I don't trust myself to… feed myself properly." He clenches and unclenches his fists. Jongin can make out the light tremble of his fists, the way the veins on the back of his hands pop out. "I'm sorry. I just don't do well with people taking care of me."

Jongin raises both of his eyebrows, then drops then drops them when he sees the shy twist of Joonmyun's mouth. There's a faint blush painting Joonmyun's cheeks and really, it's probably the lighting at work, but Jongin relishes in it anyway, memorizes the look of a touch of pink in Joonmyun's cheeks and the way he's sucking in the right corner of his lips and jutting out the rest.

Joonmyun's still facing him, though, like he actually meant what he said earlier. "Well?" he says, then, and bumps his knees into Jongin's thigh before repeating, this time slowly, "Well?"

Well, I didn't expect this – that's what Jongin wants to say right now. Well, I might as well get swallowed by the ground now because you're asking me to feed you? He doesn't, though; instead, he reaches for Joonmyun's bowl and mixes the ingredients together with Joonmyun's utensils.

"I'm sorry for forcing this on you," Joonmyun rushes. "I– I think I can–"

"Just sit there and chew, hyung," Jongin says. He takes a small piece of the egg white and shifts in his seat, turning his whole body to the side to face Joonmyun. Their knees bump, and the jolt of electricity that shoots up his thighs numbs him for a moment. The pulse at the back of his knees is still strong, though, thumping more loudly than ever, and Joonmyun is smiling at him, pinning him with a stare, waiting for Jongin to feed him his first meal of the day.

"Aaah–" Jongin says in an attempt to fill the silence. Joonmyun's features crack, and his lips quiver as he tries to suppress his laughter. "Okay, never mind. I won't do that again," Jongin mumbles. Then, stilling the wild beating in his chest, he leans forward and holds Joonmyun by the chin. "Open up, hyung."

It takes a while for Joonmyun to part his lips – he does, but not without running his tongue along his top lip, then catching his bottom lip between his teeth. Jongin keeps his hands as steady as possible, careful not to let Joonmyun feel the hitch of his breath through the trembling of his fingers. Joonmyun does him a favor and doesn't call him out on it, but doesn't stop the slow-forming smile on his lips from blossoming into a grin. They develop an easy rhythm after a while, and soon Joonmyun gathers enough energy to take a sip of the seaweed with the use of his spoon. Jongin guides him when at the slightest jerk of his hand, enveloping Joonmyun's tiny fist with his hand. It's a weird and awkward fit, but the contrast of Joonmyung's cool fingers against Jongin's warm ones are a nice mix.

The brighter flush on Joonmyun's cheeks is icing on the cake.

♬ ♬ ♬

"Oh. You… found him." Chanyeol opens the door wider and gestures for Jongin and Joonmyun to step inside. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

Joonmyun offers Chanyeol a small smile as they walk past him in the narrow aisle and make their way inside the room. Joonmyun's dorm room isn't any bigger than Jongin's own, but it does look more spacious. The desk beside the bed is tidy, and the papers are arranged into neat stacks at the edge. There are boxes under the table, too, that Jongin predicts are filled with research material for Joonmyun's thesis. And then there's a small studio set up – a red head, green wallpaper rolled up on a wall, and a camera rested on a tripod. Maybe this is where Joonmyun shoots his videos. The cropping has always been tight in them, after all.

He cranes his neck a little and finds a sliding door near the bed. Ah, Jongin thinks. That must be Chanyeol's side of the room. That makes Jongin lucky enough to not be sharing his private space with someone else. It's a miracle Joonmyun can stuff so many things in this room of theirs and not make it seem cramped. Jongin barely has any papers for school lying around in his room but his looks more untidy. He should get to placing his clothes inside his closet. If he gets dust all over them then it'll be a waste doing laundry every week.

"So this is where all the magic happens, huh?" Jongin says as he takes one step closer to the studio set up. He doesn't drop the hand on the small of Joonmyun's back, though.

Joonmyun takes him on a short tour of their room. "That's Chanyeol's cave, also called the entertainment room," he says. Chanyeol doesn't even have to slide the door all the way to the other side for Jongin to get what Joonmyun means – he can already see all the different consoles on Chanyeol's side of the room from where he is. "This is the common dining area. This is where we cry over academics, as well," Joonmyun continues. Chanyeol cackles in the background, but Jongin doesn't look over his shoulder to check on Chanyeol. The sound is enough to create an image of Chanyeol's features scrunching into something indiscernible. That, and Joonmyun's grip on his wrist is strong and steady, steering him to where they should go next.

"And this is where Chanyeol forces me to sleep. Because apparently, that's his job," Joonmyun mumbles. He looks over his shoulder, then says, "I'll go to bed at ten. Happy?"

"Very," Chanyeol replies. "Then you won't have to deal with me blasting porn on the stereo–"

Joonmyun takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes closed as he does so. "Whatever. I don't like your porn, anyway."

Then what kind of porn do you like? Jongin wants to ask, but that's not something you ask your senior and idol after feeding him with shaky hands then dragging him into his room. He doesn't even know Joonmyun that well yet. Heck, he hasn't even shared a casual drink with Joonmyun yet! Alcohol makes and breaks friendships and Jongin doesn't want to ruin everything he's built with Joonmyun just by asking, Hey, hyung, what kind of porn are you into? Do you like BDSM? Watersports? Do you like watching girls fuck guys with strap ons? Sharing porn is caring but Jongin supposes Joonmyun isn't that kind of friend.

He blinks a few times and feels his pocket for his phone. No texts from Zitao. Maybe he fell asleep while getting dressed or something. Or maybe he decided to go ahead and not share the last Pokemon cartridge in the store with Jongin. Jongin understands, he'd have done the same. There are neither friends nor family when it comes to getting the last Pokemon game. He sends Zitao a text, nonetheless, and says, hey btw sorry, your hd's still w me, haven't transferred the dildos series to your drive yet. will return it to u on monday PROMISE!!!

"Oh, didn't you mention having to meet up with a friend after this?" Joonmyun brings up. He looks up at Jongin from sitting down on the edge of his bed, then says, "You don't… have to hang around for too long if you have to leave now"

The lighting in the room isn't the best – no, it's bad. It's dim and it makes Joonmyun look five years older than he should be. It makes Joonmyun look more worn out the usual and steals the glimmer from Joonmyun's eyes. But Joonmyun's gaze is sharp, focused, assessing. It also looks like an invitation. And it probably would have been if Jongin has known Joonmyun for a lifetime and it would be normal for a freshman to push a senior down on his bed and nip along the column of his neck.

It isn't. Jongin is just another club member to Joonmyun, or maybe another Youtube channel subscriber. It just so happens that they're in the same organization and in the same room right now.

Chanyeol's giving them a weird look, a crazy smile. Soon, he's biting on his lower lip as he looks at Joonmyun, then Jongin, then back again.

Jongin's phone buzzes in his pocket and he mumbles I just have to– check this– He fishes for his phone from his pocket and reads the message that has just come in, a text from Zitao that says, whoops sorry man i fell asleep but hmm. if you want i can drop by your room and wait for the transfer to finish then we can go to the game shop? doesn't close until 8pm anyway :D :D :D

"Was that your–" Joonmyun nods in the direction of Jongin's phone. "Your friend?"

Jongin types a quick reply – 5pm okay? just have to get some things done before heading out haha. To Joonmyun, he says, "Yeah, but he just woke up. It'll take him another hour to get ready. He's… particular with his outfits."

Chanyeol laughs a little. "Ah, freshmen," he says. "Baekhyun was like that during our first semester. Come second sem, he'd ditched the polo shirts for baggy ones."

Jongin furrows his eyebrows a little then turns to Joonmyun, asking, "Same friend who… lends you baggy shirts for your videos, hyung?"

Joonmyun shakes his head, smiling. "Nah. Still too small. That would be Chanyeol." He points his thumb at Chanyeol, then gives Chanyeol a once-over. "I buy him shirts for Christmas so I can wear them for my videos eventually. It's a win-win situation."

Chanyeol snorts. "Can't say you have bad taste, hyung." He shifts his gaze a little, then gives Jongin a long, searching look. "Yeah, not bad at all."

Jongin's about to ask what the two are talking about when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket one more time. He gives it a quick check, laughing a little when he sees Zitao's message that says, yeah great you know it takes me a while to prepare lol. Chanyeol must have said something, because now Joonmyun's cocking at eyebrow at Chanyeol and whispering what in a voice so faint Jongin almost doesn't catch it. But he hasn't spent years watching $uhos' – no, Joonmyun's – videos for nothing. He hasn't spent years placing this online celebrity on a pedestal and admiring his taste in music, the fact that he has such a diverse pool of music favorites, and that he doesn't give a shit about people who laugh at him for his strange outfits.

He hasn't spent forever trying to be like him, or even better. So he knows this, hears Joonmyun whisper, hears the mix of hesitation, surprise, and amusement in Joonmyun's voice when Joonmyun says again, a bit louder than before, "What?"

"Where are you meeting your friend?" Chanyeol asks.

"Uh. In my room?" Jongin scratches the back of his neck. "We're checking out a game shop nearby to grab the new Pokemon title–"

Chanyeol's lips fall open into a small 'o', and he nods slowly, as if each repetition bears a meaning different from the previous. "Oh. Pokemon." He clears his throat, then asks, "Would you mind if I made you babysit Joonmyun-hyung a little longer? Baekhyunnie and Kyungsoo are coming over to make music and–"

Jongin's eyes widen. "Uh, okay?"

"For school," Joonmyun rushes. "They make music for school and I'm the only one among us four who has a nice condenser microphone." Joonmyun takes a deep breath, breathing noisily through his nose. He nudges Chanyeol in his side with his elbow. "Why don't you three buy one? I'm not the one majoring in music production and recording music."

"But you should," Chanyeol answers. He gives Joonmyun's hair a light ruffle. It's a better look on Joonmyun, Jongin thinks – the tousled hair, not the pout on his lips, but he supposes he could survive a few of those if his heart would just stop doing somersaults in his chest. "Anyway, would you? Or… would your friend mind if he tagged along? He tends to get too critical of our work when we record here."

"Why not in the broadcasting room?" Jongin offers.

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow at him. "D'you think he'll let us mess around with his set up there?" he asks, cocking his head in the direction of the mini studio.

"Right," Jongin mumbles. "Well, I guess Tao wouldn't mind? He's nice. I bet he'll like Joonmyun-hyung. Joonmyun-hyung's very likable."

Joonmyun presses his lips thinly together and gives him a careful look, eyes only peeking through his bangs. Woohoo! Way to go, Jongin! You didn't have to tell Chanyeol about your lifelong boner for your favorite hyung! But Joonmyun doesn't say anything, doesn't even move save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. His lips quiver just a little, and then peeking out his tongue, running it between his lips, along the corners of his mouth.

"I don't want to impose," Joonmyun says. He scratches lines on his jeans and seethes when his nail catches on a stray string. "I can always stay at the club room to study. Then Baekhyun can pick me up there and–"

"No, it's fine. Come with us, hyung," Jongin rushes. He's sure Zitao won't mind – Zitao likes meeting new friends, after all. That, and Joonmyun is no stranger to Zitao. Jongin just wishes Zitao won't pull off a Sehun and tease him about his Youtube idol fantasies every chance he gets or that Zitao won't give him a 'gentle' push in Joonmyun's direction so he can hold Joonmyun close. He won't mind the lack of space between then, really, but that's cheating; if he ever wins Joonmyun over – heart, mind, and soul – he wants to do it his own way.

Jongin shakes his head, then stops as soon as he sees the light furrow of Joonmyun's eyebrows. He doesn't have to win Joonmyun over, or anything. It's not as if Joonmyun is anyone's property. He just found Joonmyun first and–

"Yeah. It's fine. I'm sure Tao will be glad to meet you." Jongin nods. "He's… also a bit of a fan, I guess."

Joonmyun gulps hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and smiles. The hard corners of her mouth soften, easing into a smile. "Oh, okay. That's… good to know."

Jongin stays in Joonmyun's room for the next few minutes, legs drawn close together and palms rested on his knees. He watches at Joonmyun and Chanyeol engage in a small banter, watches at Baekhyun and Kyungsoo arrive at the doorstep of Joonmyun's room. He watches as the fatigue from Baekhyun's eyes lifts when Joonmyun stands from where he is and gives him a wave. He watches, with even more concentration than ever, as Baekhyun snakes an arm around Joonmyun's waist to pull him closer, their noses merely centimeters apart.

His phone sounds off in his pocket one last time and the spell breaks. Joonmyun pulls away from Baekhyun with a jerk of the body and Baekhyun lets Joonmyun take a step back. Kyungsoo looks to his side, at where Baekhyun is, then looks up at Chanyeol who only shrugs in response. "It's time, hyung," Jongin mumbles, and Joonmyun nods in acknowledgement. Turns on his heel to face Jongin and offers him a smile. Walks past Jongin to gather his things before slipping beside Jongin again, then nudging him in his side.

"Let's go?" Joonmyun asks, eyes fixed Jongin's own.

Jongin allows himself to get lost for a moment, seeing his reflection on Joonmyun's eyes, then nods. "Yup. Let's."

♬ ♬ ♬

Jongin's prediction as to Zitao getting along with Joonmyun is accurate so far – he loves it when Joonmyun talks about all these cool 'broadcasting stuff', but more than anything else he likes it when Joonmyun talks about his post-production process in the videos he uploads as Youtube user $udope. It sounds simple at first, the editing process, but it has so many layers that Jongin loses track of where they are come the equal resizing and how Joonmyun makes the sound levels parallel to each other even when doing a cut-to-cut edit of the clips.

"That's really cool," Zitao whispers, eyes wide in awe and lips parted only a little as he nods. "I mean, that never crossed my mind. I always thought it would be weird if you didn't use… real ambient noise when mastering your videos. But man, that's really cool!" A grin breaks across Zitao's features, and he shakes his head in disbelief. "And you do this for, what, a few hours? Doesn't even take a day to edit the whole fifteen-minute thing?"

Joonmyun laughs a little and gestures at Zitao, index finger drawing a circle a few inches away from Zitao's lips. Zitao licks it off at once, whatever it's supposed to be, and turns back to Joonmyun with as much attention as before. Joonmyun takes a lick of his ice cream and risks a glance at Jongin, eyes dancing with something Jongin can't place yet. Then they step to a more well-lit area, standing still just in front of the game shop. From where Jongin is, Joonmyun looks his age again, not the man who hasn't had an ample amount of rest yet. He looks… much like $uho, except without the outfit and all the bling.

But Joonmyun-hyung isn't $uho without those, a voice at the back of his mind says. He pushes that thought to the very back of his mind and swallows hard. He turns to Zitao to answer his question. "It used to take hyung longer. A few days, give or take. But he's been doing it for a while already so–" He catches Joonmyun's gaze, then, the light furrow of his eyebrows and the soft laughter playing on his lips. "Yeah. Sorry. Basically, he's a superstar and he can edit videos in a flash now."

Joonmyun sucks in his bottom lip but gives in to the urge to chuckle. "He's right," Joonmyun says, then bumps Jongin so hard in his side that Jongin has to grip his ice cream cone tightly. He widens his eyes at Joonmyun but Joonmyun doesn't seem to be fazed. "Now, I perform magic on my videos and I basically do everything I told you earlier in a blink of an eye."

Zitao narrows his eyes at Jongin then turns to look at Joonmyun, albeit with softer eyes. "There's no magic involved."

Joonmyun cracks and snorts, but confesses, "No magic involved."

"Okay," Zitao says, nodding. "If I find out–"

"There's no magic involved, Tao. I promise," Joonmyun replies. He clasps a hand on Zitao's shoulder, then rubs circles with his thumb. Jongin feels his throat go dry and clench at nothing in particular. It feels… weird. "It's just me, my hands, and my trusty Adobe AfterEffects."

"Okay, okay, I believe you," Zitao mumbles. To Jongin, he says, "You are so far gone, Kim Jongin. So far gone."

They finish their ice cream after a while, and Jongin loses a bit of his composure when they step inside the game shop. He hasn't been to one of these in the recent past. Not since he's started devoting all of his time to studying, at least. Sooneung does that to you, transforms you from a breathing human being into a robot feeding off on information from books. Data input, great results as output. He looks around the shop, scans the shelves with his gaze. There are some unfamiliar titles for different consoles in all the shelves, but a few of his favorites stand out for him – Castlevania, Fire Emblem, The World Ends With You. All of the Pokemon titles since the migration from the Advance unit to the DS. All of his dreams of being a Pokemon master confined in one corner of the game shop, selling for 50% of the original price.

He turns to look at Zitao and groans, "I'm gonna die."

Zitao gives him a solemn pat on the back and says, "I know, man. I know. It was nice meeting you."

Joonmyun doesn't utter a word until he's beside Jongin, surveying the Pokemon titles with great interest. He takes three titles – Y, and then both Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire. "It's just so hard to pick between the two," he whispers, voice so faint. Jongin has to strain his hearing a little to catch the details of the statement. "I'd buy all these if I wasn't doing my thesis–"

The strangest idea hits Jongin, and he pushes it to the very back of his mind until it wriggles free from his control. "I can… buy one of the new titles and play through the game with you, I guess?" he offers. Joonmyun looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed, but doesn't speak. Jongin takes this as a sign to go on. "I mean, I can give you updates from time to time! Win-win situation, yeah?"

Win-win means not digging your own grave, Jongin, a voice at the back of his mind says. Joonmyun chuckles, though, and says, "As long as it doesn't get in the way of your studies, I guess."

"It won't," Jongin declares, grinning from ear to ear. He feels the sting at the corners, but it doesn't hurt as much as it should. Maybe it's the magic of Pokemon at work. It's definitely that brand of magic. Bless Arceus. "I'm good at self-control," he adds, but has some trouble convincing himself about it. If self-control also involves abstaining from excess minutes of sleeping and lounging on his bed while staring at the emptiness of his ceiling then he's lying. Or he's telling a white lie, at least, because he is good at controlling himself from making impulsive purchases. Impulsive video watching at two in the morning, not so much.

Joonmyun takes a deep breath and stares at him a while longer. Then he breaks the eye contact, and looks at his hands clasped together, his feet, and blows at his bangs. "If you say so. Just… know that I'm not imposing this on you, okay? For all I know, you don't want to grab a copy of the title yet for some unknown reason–"

"He's dying to get it. He's just too lazy," Zitao says from a few feet behind them. Jongin looks over his shoulder, shooting Zitao a stern look, then sticks out his tongue. "Or too busy with school work. You know Jonginnie, he's such a hard worker."

Zitao sticks his tongue out right back at Jongin. Jongin looks away, tearing his gaze to look at Joonmyun instead. "Busy. With school. Also, residency."

Joonmyun stops for a moment, blinking, then turns to Jongin with a bright smile. "That's right! We can play Pokemon during your residency hours!" His voice drops to a whisper soon after, once he realizes the crack he'd made at the peak of his voice. "Provided that you don't have school work, at least. Or if you don't want to learn broadcast-y things."

"I do! But–" But I want to play with you, hyung– Wait. That doesn't sound right. "But we can always give equal time to both, yeah? Like, we can allot 15 minutes radio things and 45 to playing–"

"Or the other way around," Joonmyun offers. He winks at the end of his statement. "That sounds like quite a plan." He grabs the title Jongin hasn't taken yet, then, and tells Jongin, "I'll open this and play with you after my defense. Pinky promise." Joonmyun sticks out his pinky at Jongin, then, and looks up at him, eyes wide and expecting.

He can't go down like this. He needs to at least put up a fight, somehow, but put all three of his things together in one package and he just finds himself so weak in the knees. So he says, after letting out a loud exhale, "Fine."

"More time for radio practice. Delayed gratification in the form of Pokemon." Joonmyun turns their linked pinked into a hand shake. He gives Jongin's hand a light squeeze. "Makes the gaming experience much more thrilling, huh?"

Jongin has half the mind to nod fervently in agreement, but the better half of his senses tells him to not do anything stupid. So instead, he keeps his hand there, fingers wrapped around Joonmyun's tiny hand, the press of their palms warm, almost comforting. It isn't that cold anymore but Jongin feels a light shiver crawl down his spine, all the way to the small of his back and the back of his knees. His pulse grows stronger, louder, and right now there's nothing in the world that he wishes but for Joonmyun to not feel the strength of his pulse through the snug fit of their hands. Still, he keeps his hand there because there's nothing wrong with indulging in a bit of warmth, right? There's nothing wrong about wanting a touch of warmth at the start of spring, with the last few traces of winter evaporating into air.

"More thrilling," Jongin says. He gulps hard. "Rewarding."

They leave the shop with a title each to themselves. Zitao talks Jongin's head off about The Legend of Zelda's latest installment and Joonmyun slips in an occasional comment about hearing things about the gameplay, the character design, the transferring of old data into the new game. He says it's a hassle to migrate from the old game to the new, but the smile on his lips betrays him, makes it look as if there's nothing in this world that can deter him from liking the gameplay once he's done with his thesis.

"Pokemon first, though," Joonmyun says, bumping his arm into Jongin's, then wiggles his eyebrows at Jongin. Jongin feels his legs turn into jelly. This isn't good.

They catch dinner at the nearest McDonald's and Joonmyun treats them to an extra round of fries. The food is good, but Jongin is still stuck between choosing the titles and the promise Joonmyun made earlier. Their little contract with each other and the promise of Joonmyun spending more time with Jongin during downtime or if he just needs to unwind. Like Jongin is the perfect stress-relief for a senior like him.

Like Jongin has that kind of power over him, the ability to make him feel completely at ease with things in the middle of the storm. Like Jongin has the same kind of power to make him happy, the way Joonmyun makes him smile. Like he trusts Jongin to not let him down.

♬ ♬ ♬

The plan is to open the game at the broadcasting club, with Joonmyun bubbling with excitement just beside him. What happens, instead, is Jongin acting as a piece of something Joonmyun studies as he 'hosts' his own radio show at the other side of the booth.

"Go on," Joonmyun says, voice soft and calm even with his eyebrows furrowed. His eyes have been flitting from the material he's reading to whatever is projected on screen. A picture of the sound waves, possibly, as Jongin speaks into the microphone. "Just think of it as an ordinary show. I'll phone in as a caller and you have to take my call, but that doesn't happen until ten minutes after."

Jongin gulps hard, then reminds himself not to do it again because condenser microphones are extra sensitive. The pick up even the smallest of sounds. "Like what? Hyung, I'm not– I'm not good at this. I'm just a freshman! I haven't even done anything like this back when I was still in high school!"

Joonmyun laughs a little then finally, finally lifts his gaze. His eyes are a barricaded door through the glass. Jongin feels a tight knot at the base of his throat and he takes quick breaths to ease it, but to no avail. It sits there like it's always meant to be resting in Jongin's throat. Like he's accustomed to feeling this way and he just has to deal with it a solution to the problem.

"But you did great in that mock hosting of ours during your auditions," Joonmyun says. He drops the stapled bunch of papers he was holding earlier then raises both of his fists in a thumbs-up. "You can do it! You won't screw up!"

"But what if I do?" Jongin asks. He worries his bottom lip.

"My grades are at stake here," Joonmyun replies. He winks at the end, and Jongin doesn't know what to make of it. Either way, it makes the lurching sensation in his stomach grow wilder. "You won't."

Joonmyun plays a familiar enough opening music that Jongin feels like he's watching one of Joonmyun's shows. It's the easiest way to make Jongin feel comfortable with things, at least, because then the mock radio show won't feel like a test but more of a running commentary of what Jongin thinks about $uhio's latest recommendation. He takes a deep breath and lets the sound fill his ears, his senses, crawl under his skin. Joonmyun raises a hand in front of him, then gestures at the rolled paper in front of Jongin. He has three fingers held out and, slowly, he counts down to 1 until all his fingers are balled into a fist.

Jongin clenches his free hand into a fist and summons his best smile. This won't be shown on TV, though, or even online. But Joonmyun will watch this a couple of times or so, so he has to make it good, somehow. Heaving a sigh, Jongin moves closer to the microphone and parts his lips to speak. He draws the sheets of paper close to him and pulls out his glasses from his shirt pocket, slipping it up the bridge of his nose.

He catches the way Joonmyun's eyes flit from the tips of his fingers to where Jongin's glasses are now. His eyes linger on the dip of Jongin's bottom lip and then the look is gone, replaced instead with a sharp, focused gaze.

"Good afternoon, everyone!" Jongin says, reading the script Joonmyun had developed out loud. "You are listening to the hottest station in Seoul, 106.1 KBS FM."

The script is straightforward – there are two segments, each ten minutes from each other, and in between those segments he has to play two to three songs that best fit the theme of the previous discussion. Is this a test? For me? Jongin wants to ask, but Joonmyun's eyes are so focused and he looks so completely attuned with his study, his craft. It's like he's studying every lilt of Jongin's voice, every quirk of it, every dot on the wave form that shows the smallest changes in mood and tone in Jongin's voice. Man, I wish I'd vocalized earlier, a voice at the back of his mind says, because never in his life has he encountered a person patient enough to study the highs and the lows of his voice. He's never had exceptional vocal quality, after all, even for voice-overs and program hostings.

He reaches the first discussion for the afternoon, and it takes a while for him to figure out the text on the script. He furrows his eyebrows, then widens his eyes at the text once he digests the characters. #1 Talk on sexual orientation, the segue to talk on sexual normalcies as dictated by the society, it reads.

He looks up at Joonmyun, wanting to press the sheet of paper to the glass in an attempt to ask, what the actual fuck?, but if this were an actual radio show then he might be fired for that already. So instead, he tilts his head to the side then runs his index finger through the first line of text, even as he delivers a short comment on the track that has just finished playing.

Jongin fades out the music and in comes Joonmyun's call. "Hello? You're calling KBS FM," Jongin says a greeting. "What's your name?"

"Joseph," Joonmyun answers. Jongin furrows his eyebrows as if asking, why Joseph? Joonmyun nods at him urging him to continue, and he asks how old 'Joseph' is. "I'm… nineteen. Turning twenty this coming May."

"Oh wow," Jongin replies, whistling to buy him some time. There's till a bit of background music, only too faint that people who don't have really good hearing won't be able to catch the sound. "Call again in May and we'll give you a greet, okay, Joseph?" He laughs a little and Joonmyun rolls his eyes at him, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "So, Joseph, why are you calling?"

Joonmyun drums his fingers on the table. It almost looks as if he's having just as much trouble as Jongin is just trying to mention the topic on air. Both of them know that this isn't going on broadcast, but the topic is so tricky that Jongin won't dare think of how a real radio DJ would react to the question being posed to him. Heck, he wouldn't even want to be in that show if that happens. If he was tuned in, he'd definitely stick around to see how the DJ handles the situation. Quick thinking is key, he remembers Joonmyun mentioning before. Good DJs have to think fast on how to answer tricky statements that callers throw at them.

"I was just wondering," Joonmyun begins, voice dropping to a whisper. "I was wondering, DJ Kai, what you thought homosexuality?" Joonmyun sounds different, like he's purposely changing his voice to create a character, distance himself from the situation and take an objective approach at studying the event unfolding in front of him so he could use the observation as data for his thesis. Jongin likes that, being able to take a neutral stand. He likes the concept of being at ease in the face of danger. "You know the kind of society we live in and while skinship is encouraged among Korean idols, when… when us normal people do it, other people think it's strange."

Jongin gulps hard and thinks back on the time, the very first time he slipped his fingers between Sehun's own. Sehun had tensed them, looked at him with wide eyes, then looked at their intertwined hands. He'd said then, it's cold, and Sehun hadn't asked anything else, not even with his eyes. But that was years ago. They were too young then, maybe too foolish to think too much of it.

Years after and the way Sehun's muscles had shifted, had tensed against his own that time hits him like a truck. And boy, does it hit hard.

"Well, you can't expect everyone to be comfortable with it," Jongin says. He takes a deep breath and runs his thumb along the edge of the paper a few times. There aren't any creases on the paper, though. "When you're brought up in a society that frowns upon same-sex relationships, it's… but normal to feel a bit weirded out by it. So we have to respect people who feel that way. Because if we, as supposedly open-minded people, force our opinion on them, then that doesn't make us any different from those who condone homosexuality."

"So then–" Joonmyun bites his bottom lip, looks at the paper in front of him, then looks back up at Jongin. "You're saying that you support it? The movement?"

Jongin laughs a little. "In no way am I speaking in behalf of the whole group but I will say this – I support equality and the freedom to responsibly express oneself. Liking another man or another woman doesn't make you any less of a person. It isn't…" Jongin purses his lips in search of the right word, and he clenches his fists when the closest alternative hits his mind. "Demeaning? Yes, it isn't demeaning. I guess right now it's more of… finding a balance between pushing for homosexuals to be respected in the society and not stepping on the boundaries of those people who won't relent to that way of thinking, no matter what."

Joonmyun nods, slow and thoughtful, then leans back into his seat. Not missing a beat, Jongin asks, "Does that answer your question, Joseph? Is there anything else that you'd like to ask."

Joonmyun stops midway through scribbling something on the piece of paper in front of him, then looks up at Jongin. "Yeah, it does," Joonmyun says. "That's… pretty much it. That's all I want to know." He writes something on the other side of the paper then holds up up against the glass. Big, bold characters that spell out COMMERCIAL BREAK!!! glare at Jongin.

"Alright. Thank you for your question, Joseph, and thanks for tuning in!" He goes through a list of songs in his head, then, something that won't be a bad follow up after that tricky discussion. If this is a fucking test then I should've passed it by now, he wants to tell Joonmyun, but his heart is thumping too wildly in his chest.

Then he tells himself, Focus, Jongin. Focus, in the same manner that Joonmyun would tell him.

He spots a good enough track from the roster to play, then leans closer to the microphone again. His throat doesn't feel as tight anymore, but he can still feel his heartbeat at the back of his elbows, his knees. Taking a deep breath, he says into the microphone, "We'll be playing one of our listeners' requests now, a song from an album of a successful Youtube artist who's known for his collaborations with Kina Granis. This is Imaginary Friend and he has finally released a great album called 'Fire Escape'! Please do check it out. We bring you 'Chasing Ghosts'. Hope you enjoy! This is DJ Kai and you are listening to 106.1 KBS FM, the hottest station in Seoul."

The upsound of the music isn't as smooth as Jongin would want it to be, but it's good enough. He soft sound of the guitar couples with the man's vocals soar high about the thumping in his chest, and he allows himself to lean back against his chair, stare at an empty space for a minute, clear his mind and think of nothing else. The music makes it easy, makes it more manageable. The silence is broken by Joonmyun entering Jongin's side of the booth, the turn of the knob light.

"Sorry about that. My thesis kind of touches on something like that, and I had to see how you'd react to a question so intriguing." Joonmyun takes the empty seat beside Jongin and settles down on it, wheeling himself closer to Jongin until his knees bump into the side of Jongin's seat. "You did well."

Jongin laughs a little. "Could've gone bad. I wasn't prepared for it," he mumbles. He scratches the surface of the table in front of him. He hasn't looked up to meet Joonmyun's eyes yet, but he can see a hint of the expression in Joonmyun's features through the reflection on the computer screen. "I know it's part of the test but– I… really wasn't expecting that."

"We rarely expect questions like those on air," Joonmyun answers. "Most sound techs screen the questions before they get to the DJs, but this is a worst case scenario. You handled the situation with so much composure, though. Had that been Baekhyun, even with all his professional training, the shock would have shown on his face."

Ah, Baekhyun. Tiny guy who loves touching Joonmyun. Jongin feels his throat tighten. "Thanks. I guess… I guess it helped that I was running through your tips in my head while I was on air."

Joonmyun cocks his head to the side. "Tips?"

"Yeah. The ones you gave for the exam – being focused all the time, thinking quickly, being extra careful with words. For some reason, there's this… recording of you in my head that keeps saying those things when I'm at the brink of saying something stupid and–"

And you don't have to dig another grave for yourself, Jongin. Do you want to die again? Joonmyun doesn't have to find out about your obsession and hero-worship for him. Knowing you like $uho is enough.

"–and I'm glad that paid off," Joonmyun says. There's a soft smile tugging up on the corners of his mouth, unlike the tight press of his lips earlier when he was on the other side of the booth. Joonmyun has nice lips that look soft and supple and would probably look good on Jongin's own, would feel good sliding against Jongin's mouth. Focus, Jongin. "It's good to know that you're applying what you've learned even after the test."

Not all the time, he wants to say, but he doesn't. Instead, he nods and laughs a little in reply. "I try hard. It's… one of my skills, doing my very best."

The second half of the 'show' sees Joonmyun acting as the guest for today's radio show. They discuss something just as tricky, something about religion and achieving peace among different faiths through creating a new binding law when it comes to religious beliefs. "If you ask me – and again, I reiterate, this is just my opinion – I think that's–" Bullshit. Complete bullshit. Jongin doesn't say that, though. He'd like to think that Kai is eloquent enough to not resort to using swear words on air. "–not right. You know what the universal law when it comes to religion should be? Respect. Don't have anything nice to say? Then shut–"

"Your mouth and don't say anything at all," Joonmyun finishes. It's a nice save, Jongin thinks. He could've blurted out shut the fuck up earlier after denying himself the pleasure of not saying 'bullshit'. "The reality is, if we keep arguing and don't stop long enough to listen to what the other has to say, the nothing good will come out of all the fighting."

Jongin nods, slow and thoughtful. "Besides, this isn't a battle. Some keep forgetting that we're striving for equality and world peace. You can't–" He chuckles, then shakes his head. "You can't achieve that when you keep going ah, my opinion's better than yours–"

It's Joonmyun's turn to laugh this time. It's a bit silly, how deep into their characters they are getting. It's almost as if they're doing a real show, alongside each other again, but this time as equals and not as teacher and student. It feels different. It feels… Jongin can't put it into words. All he knows that it sends a funny tingle to the tips of his toes and makes his insides turn. It's a good lurch, though, not one that makes the hair at the back of his neck stand. If anything, it sends a warm sizzle down his abdomen and a shiver up his spine, a nice push and pull.

"It's like saying rock is better than pop or ballads," Jongin adds.

"Which, of course, isn't true. No genre is superior to the other. Music is a universal language, not a universal medium of war," Joonmyun says in agreement. "So no matter where you are, no matter what genre or language of music it is that you're listening to, don't stop listening to music. Don't stop humming or singing or just plain bobbing your head to the song that won't get out of your mind."

Jongin flashes a thumbs-up at Joonmyun in approval and shows him the highlighted track in his screen. Joonmyun nods at him, then, and beams, then turns back to facing his microphone. "So here's one of the best songs that captures the essence of what music is to mankind. Give it up for The Carpenters and one of their timeless songs, Thank You For The Music. This is DJ $uho–"

Jongin looks to his side and meets Joonmyun's gaze. "And this is DJ Kai–"

Joonmyun shifts in his seat so that his body is facing Jongin's own. His face is still turned a bit to where the microphone is, but the friction of their knees bumping into each other is enough a reminder for Jongin that Joonmyun is close, probably too close for comfort, and that he's not alone here. Joonmyun moves forward, even closer now, until one of his knees slides past the tight press of Jongin's thighs to each other. None of it happens for more than a few seconds, but Jongin feels as if he's been holding his breath forever, giving into the allure of their thighs pressed to each other, giving up all sense of professionalism in the booth at the onset of Joonmyun breaching personal space. But Joonmyun hasn't lost focus yet, still speaking into the microphone with the same practiced ease that any DJ would possess.

"And you are listening to The Carpenters here on 106.1 KBS FM, the hottest station in Seoul."

The transition from their funky background music to soft intro of Thank You For The Music is so smooth that Jongin almost doesn't realize that it's already playing. The transition, too, from being trapped by Joonmyun's thighs to being at least one foot apart happens so fast, too, that Jongin doesn't realize the gaping lack of warmth until the song his the chorus. Joonmyun has pushed himself away from the table already when he gives Jongin three soft claps, eyes fixed on Jongin's own.

"Great job back there," Joonmyun says, smiling. He leans back in his seat, legs crossed. Jongin gulps hard – just seconds ago, he felt how warm it was to be between Joonmyun's thighs and– "You'd make a great DJ someday, you know."

Jongin laughs a little because there's nothing else that he can do. There's nothing else that makes sense – not the tight press of their bodies earlier, or the distance between them right now. Nothing, not even the way he's clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to still the heavy thumping in his chest.

He takes a deep breath and tears his eyes from Joonmyun's own. He looks at his shoes, focuses on the tiny breaks in the gums. He has to stop using this pair everyday. "I… I dunno, hyung. I haven't thought that far yet. I just want to make videos right now and get really good grades while I'm at it. The best grades I can get."

He hears Joonmyun shift in his seat when the computer chair creaks a little. There's a tiny gasp from Joonmyun, and then a soft, Jesus, why is there a broken chair here– "Really? You've never–"

Jongin shakes his head. "Not once. I mean, before senior year in high school, I always thought I'd go into business ad or marketing or something." He laughs a little. He would've done great in those courses, too. He's a star in mathematics, after all; numbers just love him. But that's the thing – he likes numbers and history and science. Likes. And he loves making crappy videos in MovieMaker, loved it even more when he moved to Vegas. "And now, I'm here."

"And now, you're here," Joonmyun echoes, voice softer than before. "Sitting there, a few feet away, relaxing after boarding with me." Joonmyun takes a deep, shaky breath, air passing noisily through his nose. "Great song picks, by the way. I knew I could trust you on those."

"Really?"

Joonmyun nods. "Really."

Jongin waits – for a follow up, for Joonmyun to ask why he picked film and sound over business and marketing because he loves sharing pieces of information about himself sometimes. Only sometimes. He waits for Joonmyun to mention another artist, maybe draw parallelisms from Imaginary Friend's style to that of another Youtube sensations because they sound the same sometimes, like Alex Goot and Sam Tsui. He waits because the song is almost over and the program is, too. And he waits because the camera is still rolling and he's still here, trapped in the booth as Joonmyun's test subject for his thesis. Trapped in Joonmyun's spell without any sign of escape.

Joonmyun scurries closer, using his feet to drag himself to where Jongin is. The shuffle of his feet is funny, and Jongin allows himself to laugh a little. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess of a thesis of mine," Joonmyun says.

Stop apologizing for everything, Jongin wants to say, but you can't just tell your senior that, right? They're not good enough friends yet for Jongin to tell Joonmyun that without a hint of apprehension. Maybe they need to share… a couple of life-changing experiences before that happens. Experience something so thrilling that only the two of them can share, like a little secret of theirs. Joonmyun doesn't seem to be fond of secrets, though. $uho is a big enough secret to keep; he doesn't need the weight of other silly lies to make his life more difficult.

"It's fine," he whispers. He sits up, snapping his spine straight, and says, "Thanks for trusting me enough to… board for your thesis. And for you."

Joonmyun raises an eyebrow at him like he's saying, are you serious now? But Jongin's tired of reading too much into Joonmyun's expressions. If there really want anything that Joonmyun wanted to say, he could've aired it out already. Made it known, through his videos or through a touch that lingers longer than the usual. if there's anything he wants to say, really wants to say, then Joonmyun will find a way to communicate that message to Jongin. He is a broadcasting major, after all; isn't he supposed to know exactly where to reach people and the best way too reach them?

"Can I buy you a snack? Or dinner? For all the trouble I've caused?"

Jongin laughs. "Nah. It's okay, hyung." He waves a hand about. "I'm good. I learned a lot, anyway. And actually being in control of the booth without anyone to direct me? That's more than any freshman could ask for!"

"But your playing time–"

"–can wait," Jongin finishes. He lays a palm flat on Joonmyun shoulder and gives Joonmyun a light squeeze. "Relax, hyung. I'm telling you, this is great experience. Come Broadcasting class, I'll have an edge because I know how to… fiddle with the knobs already and stuff. It's all good, okay?"

Joonmyun takes a deep breath, then places a hand atop Jongin's own. "Okay."

Jongin begins to pull away to – go back to the main hall? Get started on his reading for the day? Do his homework that's due next week? He isn't sure. Whatever he's supposed to do, Joonmyun's keeping from doing so with the warm press of his palm on the back of Jongin's hand. It tickles his skin, pricks it. It stings. It numbs his limbs, the tips of his fingers. It makes heat rush from his neck all the way to his cheeks, and then the rest of his face. It's weird because Jongin is supposed to have graduated from this idol-crushing stage by now, but he hasn't yet.

And it looks like he isn't moving on to the next level anytime soon.

"I'm buying you dinner and you don't have a choice," Joonmyun says, grinning. Jongin only blows at his bangs in response because there's nothing that he can do, anyway. At best, he can put up at fight for a while and then yield to Joonmyun's request – no, order. At worst, he can let Joonmyun drag him to the cafeteria and watch with mortification as Joonmyun feeds him with his chopsticks.

Besides, this is free food and he knows it's a crime to say no to it. So he chokes it up to that reasoning and lets Joonmyun lead him out of the booth and into the seat opposite his own in the main hall. There's nothing weird about this. It's business as usual.

♬ ♬ ♬

It's been a good month and a half since the start of the semester. Midterms aren't until a month and a half after, but already Jongin can feel the stress of the preparation for it. It's one assignment after the other, one exam on top of a presentation on top of another presentation, this time with a group. He groans instead of cursing under his breath because it's easier. Also, more convenience because he doesn't have to make an effort to utter a few words.

"Say it: we're doomed," Zitao mumbles from across the table, eyes without any glimmer and lips pressed together in a tight frown. Taemin, someone they met in Boa's class, raises two hands in surrender and buries his face in his book. Jongin looks around them – the library is littered with students with disheveled hair. There are piles of books on every desk and nobody, save for a few people, is talking. If this is what the road to midterms looks like then Jongin isn't sure if he wants to know what the campus looks like during midterm week; finals week, all the more.

"Could've been worse," Taemin offers. His speech is muffled by the pages of the book but Jongin can make out the keywords. "We got exempted from the pre-midterms for Intro to Sound. We have practicals instead of a written exam for Cinematography." Zitao leans closer, eyebrows furrowed. His comprehension is better on good days. Then again, they haven't been getting any good days recently. This – a day without a scheduled report or an exam – is the closes they can get to one. "I'm not here to memorize any art crap. I'm here to create shit!"

Jongin draws his index finger close to his lips and whispers, "Sssh." He looks around for an audience then moves his chair closer, lifting it off the ground a little so that he won't have to deal with the screeching noise. "But remember, History of Film–"

"Shit," Zitao groans. "I'm getting things mixed up now. Next thing I know, I'll be confusing Eyck for some movie director and say he did that movie instead of painting the thing– What's that called?"

Jongin takes a deep breath. He can feel his pulse in his temples throbbing. The migraines have been getting worse recently. The mere thought of exams being a month away makes the pain even more unbearable. "Y'know what? Food. We need to eat." He grabs the two by their wrist and shakes their arms a little. "We need to eat and recharge and then we can–"

"Play later, yeah?" Zitao offers. "I haven't touched my DS for two weeks now. Two weeks!"

Taemin looks at them with furrowed eyebrows. "Is that some euphemism for jacking off or something?"

Jongin lets his face fall forward into the book he's reading and winces when he feels the point of his pencil dig into his cheek. From the other side of the table, Zitao says, "Okay, that's it. We're taking a break."

Taking a break means playing Pokemon Alpha Sapphire in the cafeteria during lunch. It's a free day for Jongin, anyway, but he's supposed to go to the club room at 2 p.m. because that's how it's always been – studies in the morning until lunch, and then club things from two in the afternoon until around five. Then he'd grab snacks with Joonmyun and whoever else is around, but usually it's just the two of them. With Baekhyun and Kyungsoo working on their own projects and Chanyeol belonging to a completely different department, their schedules aligning is a blessing. It's like Sehun and Jongin's waking up and sleeping schedules finally finding a common point after these months of being apart.

The last time Jongin talked to Sehun was weeks ago, after he got his copy of Pokemon Omega Ruby and waved it in front of Sehun's jealous ass. "Ah, I love being in Asia," Jongin had teased Sehun then, because the game had always been released a week later in the U.K.. One of the perks of Pokemon being a Japanese game. The others include more wifi Pokemon downloads for Asia-locked consoles. "This is what you get for flying to the U.K.," he'd even added.

Sehun only laughed and shook his head in response. Jongin waited for a good retort because Sehun always had a nice comeback for Jongin. Times have changed, though. He got only silence in response.

Zitao pauses to save his game and pops a piece of tteokbokki in his mouth. "Say, what? You haven't even gotten to the third gym yet? Dude, you've had the game for weeks and you've been playing at least an hour everyday–"

"I don't play unless Joonmyun-hyung's around," Jongin mumbles. He stuffs his mouth tteokbokki and mulmandu and kimchi. He feels the sting of the spices on his lips and thinks, shit, wrong move. "I promised. We made a promise."

Taemin laughs a little, but for the most part he's wheezing. He'd downed the last few sips of his kimchi jjigae in one gulp. "You made a promise to what? Explore every single place in Hoenn? Dude." He downs his ice-cold water in one big gulp and only ends up cough all the more. Zitao rubs slow circles on his back. "The time will come when the people in the Pokemon world will lock the doors to their houses and–"

"They already did. Some of them, at least," Zitao replies. "Fifth gym. I was shocked. I was like, 'wow, these people are slowly losing trust in Pokemon.' It's a sad, sad world."

Taemin looks up at Zitao, the furrow of his eyebrows growing deeper, then looks back at Jongin. "But yeah. I'm saying, you can put off saving the world from… What's your version again? Ruby, right? You can't keep putting off saving the world from Team Magma. Groudon will attack the region–"

Jongin huffs. "I made a promise with Joonmyun-hyung, okay? Okay. Look. Treat that promise as… Rayquaza. The thing that will stop the war between Groudon and Kyogre. How about a remake for Emerald, yeah?"

Zitao and Taemin lock their eyes on his. Their faces are void of any sign of approval and really, Jongin doesn't know what to make of this. All he knows right now is that he won't sacrifice trust for the sake of advancing in the plot of a game he so loves. That's being selfish – he's sure Joonmyun hasn't even unboxed his Alpha Sapphire yet. And the look on Joonmyun's face whenever they go through the game together isn't something he's willing to give up just yet. He wants more of it, wants to keep that look, that smile to himself. He's not willing to give that up for the sake of progressing in a game and finish the first playthrough on his own.

We made a promise. To each other, he wants to say, but the look on Zitao's face is enough to dissuade him from doing so.

Zitao takes a deep breath and looks around for an audience. He reaches for Jongin's wrist, then, and wraps his fingers around it. Zitao's grip isn't loose, but it isn't so tight either. It's enough to pin Jongin in place, sure, but it doesn't hurt. Zitao only holds his stare for a moment until he says, voice dropping to a whisper, "You don't want to make him sad, don't you? Or disappoint him because you made a promise to each other?"

"That's–" Strangely accurate. A hundred percent accurate. But Zitao doesn't have to know that. "That's... not..."

The ruckus in the cafeteria drowns out Zitao's next statement, but Jongin is sure it's only a repetition of the first. He can read the slow movement of Zitao's lips, the way he carefully crafts his statement because he knows Jongin well enough by now to know that abrasive confrontations? Those won't work. Jongin is never the type to resort to violence. Maybe a light jab on the arm, but even that he reserves for special occasions.

Back in the day, that was his way of telling Sehun that Dude, it can't be this easy for you to read me. That's unfair. But that ship has long sunk. If Sehun had any plans of jumping ship – from girls to boys and eventually into Jongin's tiny paper boat, he would've already. Sehun isn't the type to waste any time. And Jongin is exactly the type to spend as much time waiting for someone to come around and come forward with a solid statement, a definition on what they are.

He shakes that thought away and focuses on Zitao's heavy gaze. Jongin asks, "What now?"

"You don't want to break your promise because it pains you to see him frowning," Zitao answers. There's a small smile at the corners of his mouth, but Jongin has to squint hard to be able to make out its details. Figure out the kinks of Zitao's smile, because Zitao almost always looks as if he's half-scowling when he only means to greet someone with a warm smile. "And it pains you because this idol who you've always, I dunno, put on a pedestal and worshipped never even treated you like you were beneath him. He treated you as an equal."

Jongin takes a deep breath. He can't be that easy to read. If he is then he'd have to rework his bluffing skills. That can be why he hasn't won over Kyungsoo yet during those Poker sessions in the club room. "Oh, come on–"

Taemin gives Zitao a pat on the back and says, "Spot on, man."

"You two are the worst"

"And that also means I'm right," Zitao says, grinning. He loosens his hold on Jongin, then rubs circles on the back of Jongin's hand. It feels different from how Joonmyun does it. Joonmyun holds him like he's a porcelain doll, like he's extra fragile or that he cares just a little bit more than he should. Jongin laughs at himself – he must be imagining things again.

But the thundering pulse on Joonmyun's palm doesn't like. The cool pads of the fingers against Jongin's warm skin don't lie. And Joonmyun isn't the type to lie about these things, either.

"We made a promise, okay? And I intend to keep that," Jongin says, then turns his attention back on his forgotten tteokbokki. He focuses all of his attention on that, shuns away all other distractions and flushes out untoward sounds wriggling inside his ear. And then Joonmyun's voice begins to fill his senses – his soft, laughter, his words of encouragement, the perpetual ringing of Focus, Jongin, just stay focused in Jongin's ears.

When he looks up, Taemin has already moved on from his ramyun to the leftover mulmandu. Zitao's gaze is still on his, steady and sharp, but soon he's looking away and allowing Jongin a piece of his privacy.

Jongin turns back to look at the seaweed soup to his left, marvels at his reflection on the soup. You're in too deep, kid, he tells himself. He blinks and an image of himself shaking his head greets him when his vision refocuses. You're a lost cause. A really lost cause.

♬ ♬ ♬

(There's a distant memory of a conversation with Joonmyun at the back of Jongin's mind. He'd broached the topic then, teased Joonmyun by said, "Hyung, what if I suddenly felt like doing a marathon of Omega Ruby?" It took Joonmyun a few good seconds to reply then, and without words even – a small smile, a cock of an eyebrow. Only minutes after, after Jongin saved his game and turned off his DS in preparation for snack time, did Joonmyun ask, "Do you? Feel like finishing it soon, I mean."

"Well, I did promise," Jongin said, then worried his bottom lip. "That we'll go through the game together–"

"If you want to finish it without me, it's fine," Joonmyun finished. He shrugged, laughed, even smiled long after that. "It's your game. You're just doing me a favor and giving me something to look forward to, really. It would be selfish to keep you from doing something you wanted, right?"

And it would be stupidly selfless for you to think that way, hyung, Jongin wanted to say then. But he didn't. Instead, he said, "I made a promise, hyung. And I keep my promises."

Joonmyun looked up at him for a few good seconds, not uttering a word, with a funny kind of look in his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed a little and his lips were pursed and he was fumbling with the hem of his shirt. It was cute, but it made Joonmyun look unsure of himself. It wasn't a good look on him.

"I'll hold onto that, then," Joonmyun replied after a while. He held out a hand, helping Jongin get up. And he didn't let go until ten minutes after, when they were supposed to leave the room and silence their grumbling stomachs.)

♬ ♬ ♬

Jongin trudges down the passageway from the Film building to the Broadcasting building with two books tucked under one arm, and his messenger bag slung on his shoulder. He's experienced worse – the week before, he had to balance at least three hard-bound books on either arm. Three days ago, there was the addition of a few art materials to the ensemble. Two days ago, the load began to ease and he'd deposited two of the books he'd been lugging around for a while already. Another day after and with all of their pre-midterm exams done, he's down to his battle outfit plus the two books as his shield.

"Need help?" comes a familiar voice, deeper than it should be. Jongin looks up at the man a few feet away and grins. "Wow. You look... better."

"Got some sleep last night," Jongin mumbles. Chanyeol seems to get it, though, nodding then taking the books off his load. "Then a nap before going here. Might have– Whoops–" He almost trips on the elevation, but Chanyeol catches him with his free hand. "Yeah, I might have dozed off longer than I should. I was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago."

"Well, at least you have color now," Chanyeol argues. "The last time I saw you, you were so pale. Paler than Joonmyun-hyung."

Jongin snorts. "You're exaggerating, hyung."

Chanyeol shrugs. "Well, he looks better now as well. Passed the first draft of his paper yesterday so he finally got some sleep." Chanyeol draws his shoulders back instead of locking his arms behind his back. The light clicking of Chanyeol's bones makes Jongin wince a little. "More like he finally let me tuck him in bed because you know him, he's a fucking workaholic."

"It's... good that he has you, you know, to remind him of the things he should be doing," Jongin whispers. It's not as if he knows what's written on Joonmyun's to do list – Joonmyun's schedule is still a mystery to him – but he does know that 'rest' ranks low in the priority list. So Chanyeol is doing a good job as a roommate and a friend. It isn't everyday that you find someone who can tolerate your weird rapping at obscene hours in the evening just so you can upload something for your Youtube subscribers. It isn't everyday that you find a roommate who will make it a point to check on your with your other friends just to make sure that you're alright, either.

"Well, I try to be a good friend," Chanyeol says, voice dropping to a whisper. He knocks on the door with the tip of his shoe. "Someone has to look after him. At least I don't have to worry about making sure he eats on time." Chanyeol laughs a little. "You seem to be doing well in that department."

"Me?" Jongin asks, pointing finger poking his chest. He hasn't done much. Sure, he's fed Joonmyun a couple of times, dragged him out of the club room to get a decent meal and not just coffee, hyung, because that's not food, but he isn't sure if any of those instances have made a difference. Joonmyun has an uncanny ability to bounce back to life after only a five-minute respite, after all. Jongin won't be surprised if the time it took for Jongin to coax Joonmyun out of his seat and then walk to the cafeteria sprung him back to life already. "Nah, I'm just– I don't think–"

"You're doing a great job," Chanyeol says again, with more finality this time. He knocks on the door with his elbow this time, and when no one answers he whips out his ID from his wallet. "Ugh. Either he's asleep or Baekhyun's here."

Jongin furrows his eyebrows. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Chanyeol snorts, then swings the door forward. "You don't want to know."

Joonmyun's table faces the door so it'll be easy to spot him, but he isn't on the other side of the desk. All his things are on the table, though – readings, cellphone, highlighters in all the colors of the rainbow – but the owner? Nowhere to be seen. Jongin looks around some more and puts his things down on the table in the 'common study area', then takes a few steps closer inside, craning his neck.

Chanyeol takes a deep breath when he spots something on the couch beside Joonmyun's table. "Right. The booth." He turns to Jongin and says, "Hey kid, face the other side of the room. You'll thank me later."

"Huh?"

"I said–" Chanyeol places both hands on Jongin's shoulders and pushes him back in the direction of the study area, then makes him settle down on one of the seats. "Face that side of the room and… I dunno, put on your headphones or something? If you hear anything strange, don't look elsewhere. Just focus on studying."

He looks to his side, studying Chanyeol's features. His lips are pursed, and his eyebrows are furrowed a little. A corner of his mouth is twisted in a way that makes him look conflicted, though. Or scared, maybe, but not in the way that ghosts freak the fuck out of him. Whatever it is, he knows the consequences of what will happen. Jongin isn't sure if he wants to hang around long enough to witness that.

He looks over his shoulder, surveying the room one last time, and catches sight of Baekhyun's cardigan on Joonmyun's chair. Oh. "Yeah, sure. I have–" He takes out his headphones and puts them on. He scrolls to his most upbeat playlist and blasts them in his headphones, then raises two thumbs up in Chanyeol's direction.

Chanyeol nods at him, ruffles his hair, then walks to the other side of the table. Jongin keeps his eyes glued to the material he's studying and nothing else.

This feels different from studying with Joonmyun. For one, he has to share a much smaller space with Joonmyun and he can rest his feet on the chair opposite his, but the music is neither soothing nor enough to fuel him to power through so many pages of readings. Joonmyun's soft humming is strangely calming yet stimulating to the brain, for some reason. And he knows he'll sound crazy, but sometimes Jongin can feel the cogwheels in his mind turning, really turning, picking up pace when Joonmyun hits a particularly high note or starts bobbing his head to the tune he's humming.

Chanyeol doesn't look anything like Joonmyun, either, with his big grins and bright eyes. Jongin's accustomed to careful glances through the slits of the bangs and soft touches on the wrist. Jongin isn't accustomed to Chanyeol's expression turning from happy to shocked and then disappointment in a blink of an eye.

Jongin crinkles his eyebrows and cocks his head at Chanyeol. Chanyeol shakes his head in response and mouths, Study. You have a test tomorrow. He doesn't know that yet. He doesn't know if Chanyeol has some sort of power to convince Jongin's professors to give his class a test, either. He follows Chanyeol's instructions, nonetheless, even when Kyungsoo walks inside the club room with wide eyes that shoot up one second, then fix on the floor the next.

The next thing Jongin feels is familiar fingers ruffling his hair, then hot breath on the back of his neck. He hits pause on his music player, then, and looks to his side, jerking back when he finds Joonmyun's face too close for comfort.

This feels a lot like comfort, though, like Joonmyun's apologizing for not being around to study with Jongin, for being away. "Better memorize those white balance combinations if you want to please Jonghyun-sonsaengnim," Joonmyun whispers. His lips brush against the back of Jongin's ear as he continues, "He might give you a scenario and ask you to color-correct that in your mind."

Jongin twists his torso, then, looking up at Joonmyun with a scowl on his lips. "What?"

Joonmyun pulls away in time, taking a few steps back, and bumps into Baekhyun. Baekhyun rests his hands on Joonmyun's waist and Joonmyun's shoulders fall back when his back hits Baekhyun's chest. It almost looks… intimate, feels like Jongin isn't supposed to be looking at them and should stick to studying, instead. It feels like taking a punch to the gut, and another, and then another, until he's writhing on the floor and yelling into the great void, help me! An upsound of dramatic music. Fade to black.

But this isn't a movie with a script that Jongin can't change. So Jongin clears his throat and asks, "Are you serious, hyung?" in an attempt to regain his… composure? He hasn't lost it, has he? He's not sure. What he is sure of is that his voice cracked somewhere along the way, between 'serious' and 'hyung'. And it's making Joonmyun laugh a little.

"Only because he wants his students to be the best," Joonmyun replies. Baekhyun snakes his hands around Joonmyun's waist, then, and Jongin doesn't even try to fight his smile from tugging down as he bites the inside of his cheek. Baekhyun rests his chin on Joonmyun's shoulder and Jongin's positive he can hear Joonmyun whispering, will you stop that? Joonmyun's features say otherwise, though – he's still smiling. He can even be grinning, what with the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Torturing them to be the best, you mean," Kyungsoo adds. He slips beside Chanyeol then hands him a stick of gum. Chanyeol takes it, then hands it over to Jongin.

"If it gets the job done!" Joonmyun answers, then pushes himself forward, slowly wiggling out of Baekhyun's embrace. There's no hint of disgruntlement in Baekhyun's features. That stupid smile is still on his lips and Jongin wants to punch it out of his face. And Joonmyun might be on his side, after all, when Joonmyun socks Baekhyun in the gut with his elbow when Baekhyun reaches out to ticket Joonmyun in the neck. "And it gets the job done, alright."

"I guess I'll be studying with Zitao, then!" Jongin declares. He turns to his side to thank Kyungsoo and Chanyeol for the gum, then gathers his things that he's littered on the study desk before stuffing the books inside his bad. "He digs that cinematography shit. He's into the white color balance thing–"

Joonmyun inches closer, reaching out. Jongin keeps his eyes on the poor excuse of a system of organization in his bad. "White balance, Jongin. But hey, you don't have to–"

"Nah, I'm good. I just–" He looks at the wall clock, then at his things. He's only been here for thirty minutes, maybe even less. He can drop by later to render an hour of residency but not with Baekhyun around. Baekhyun makes his insides turn and not in a Joonmyun way. Not that there's supposed to be a 'Joonmyun way' of making his stomach lurch in several different directions. "I just really need to focus right now because the test is tomorrow and I can't flunk that–"

"But– You don't flunk exams," Joonmyun reasons.

"There's a first time for everything, hyung," Jongin says with finality. He zips up his bag, then turns to Joonmyun with the best smile he can muster. He's sure it looks nothing like a smile. A scowl, maybe, but he hopes Joonmyun's having one of those tough days again that he can't tell a smile from a frown. "So I have to work hard so that there won't be a first time for me to fail an exam."

He walks out of the room as fast as he can and shuts the door behind him. He isn't even sure if he hasn't left anything on the table. He can always return for that later, much later, when all of them are gone and Jongin can get his much-needed peace and quiet in the club room.

When there's no Joonmyun and Baekhyun to distract them with their weird ways and make his chest ache for reasons he can't comprehend yet.

♬ ♬ ♬

"I hate him," Jongin grumbles as he pops three pieces of Combos in his mouth. "I hate his face, his voice, his smile, his everything!"

Zitao sneaks a glance at him before turning to look back down on his DS. He's almost through to the Pokemon League, but he's leveling up his Pokemon some more because I can't risk it. I don't want any of them to die just because I was too excited to beat the game. There's merit in waiting it out, Jongin thinks – he gets to watch Zitao pummel one Pokemon after another to the ground using his team, and he gets to eat all the Combos in his bag instead of sharing it with Zitao because doesn't like getting food all over his gadgets.

He takes two pieces and slips it between Zitao's lips, anyway. He's violating the sacred rule of whining about non-school things while playing, after all. The least he could do is to share a piece of happiness with Zitao while talking his head off.

"Okay. First off, I'm glad you're making progress," Zitao mumbles. He groans for a moment and Jongin looks at the screen from over Zitao's shoulder – his Swellow's down after taking a critical hit from a Stone Edge. Man, that must have been tough. Zitao recovers quickly, though, continuing, "I mean I'm glad you've finally admitted to yourself that you hate Baekhyun-hyung."

"Not… That's too strong a word," Jongin mumbles. "I hate what he's doing, not his entirety. Like, I can hate his face without hating his fingers right? He has nice fingers."

Zitao snorts. "You said so, yourself – I hate him!" Zitao does his best Jongin impersonation that sounds more like a wailing Jongin than anything else. Jongin wonders how accurate that it, given the situation. Maybe 70%. "Question is, why? I mean, it's not as if he's taking your Joonmyun-hyung away from you–"

"He is not mine," Jongin grumbles. Zitao keeps stuffing words in his mouth; it's annoying. Not as annoying as Baekhyun, though. "I just don't like how he's so–"

"Touchy. With your Joonmyun-hyung. And he's yours because you're his self-proclaimed number one fan." Zitao drawls out the last bit and really, if Jongin wasn't in Zitao's flat at the moment, he'd have socked Zitao with his elbow and tackled him to the floor. "Look, it's so obvious that you're jealous because he gets to touch Joonmyun-hyung like that and you can't. So why not try to hug hyung?"

"Because there's no reason to?" Jongin argues. "Because I don't just go around hugging people I hardly know? Tao, you know what I mean–" He huffs, then blows at his bangs. This only results in the sharp tips of the strands poking his eyes. Now this is more annoying that Baekhyun because his hair isn't supposed to be against him. He feels a bit betrayed. "I dunno, it's just so unprofessional to be cuddling in the club room and all, in front of your friends."

Zitao looks up one last time before saving his game, then turning off the console. For a moment, Jongin contemplates on making Zitao load the game again because watching Zitao play helps him make the voices in his head shut up. There always has to be something, an external force that he has no control over, to help him get through some rocky stages in his life. Or rocky paths, at least, because it's not as if he has an 'era' dedicated to the people who have occupied a significant amount of space is his heart. Sehun era, Joonmyun era – they sound foolish. And Jongin didn't get into K-ARTS because he's stupid.

He heaves a sigh. He has to learn how to get over his own self alone. He can't resort to seeking help from other people all the time. It's inconvenient, and the last thing he wants is to drive people away with the same brand of inconvenience he's making them deal with.

"Tell me – if you caught someone else doing that in the club room," Zitao begins. He shifts in his seat on the bed, then continues, "Would you have felt this bad?"

Bad isn't the best word to describe how he's feeling at the moment. He feels like… he's been cheated on. Like some douche played with his emotions and laughed at him to add salt to the wound. Except there's no betrayal involved, no cheating nor sin involved in whatever Jongin is feeling. Baekhyun and Joonmyun were just being themselves. It just so happens that Jongin's threshold for romance in club rooms is so low, it's hilarious. So in essence, he's just making his own life miserable by feeling all these emotions.

Jongin buries his face in his hands. "I don't feel bad. I feel stupid because I don't understand what's happening to me." He can't even bring himself to use Combos as a happy treat anymore. "I feel so stupid!"

Zitao moves closer, snatching the bag of Combos from him and rubbing his hand on Jongin's back. "You're not stupid. You're one of the smartest people I know," he whispers. He's using that oh no, don't cry voice of his. Jongin wants to assure Zitao that he won't, the he hadn't even thought about it until Zitao mentioned it. He's not that kind of person. But Zitao's hand is so warm and the steady circles he's tracing on Jongin's back make him choke on his voice just a little. And maybe his eyes feel a bit wet but no, he's not crying. His eyes are just… feeling things. Stupid things for not-stupid people like him.

"For all you know, Baekhyun-hyung's just a flirt and Joonmyun-hyung's just too nice to turn him down," Zitao offers.

"Baekhyun-hyung is a flirt," Jongin groans. He's sure his voice is being muffled by the press of his lips to his palms, but whatever. "Worst part if that Joonmyun-hyung is just as flirty."

Zitao snorts. "What? Joonmyun-hyung, flirty? I…" He laughs a little, and by not Jongin can feel the light vibrations of Zitao's laughter through the press of Zitao's palm on his shirt. "I dunno, man. That sounds kinda hard to believe. Joonmyun-hyung has the flirting skills of a baby penguin."

Baby penguins are cute, Jongin wants to argue, but decides against it. "He is," he says, instead, doesn't tell Zitao about all those times Joonmyun let his touch linger, let his gaze trace the swell of Jongin's lips or let his fingers trace the curve of Jongin's cheeks. And the way Joonmyun's pulse throbs so strongly against Jongin's skin that Jongin can't help but think sometimes that Joonmyun's going through the same monologue in his mind, maybe even worse.

They stay in comfortable silence after a while, and Jongin lets himself fall flat on his back on Zitao's bed. Zitao follows suit, his knuckles brushing against Jongin's own. If this were Joonmyun beside him then he'd feel sparks at the tips of his fingers now, or he'd be frozen all over without any hope of being thawed. If this were Sehun beside him then he'd be counting the seconds until Sehun rolled out of bed to draw the covers over then and snuggle up to Jongin. Because the best of friends do that, even after one of them had accidentally confessed a year or two ago that he might have liked the other a bit too much, might've thought of kissing the other but didn't push through with it because, I may be delusional but I do still know you, y'know? And I know you'd kick me out of your bed if I did that. I needed the bed.

"What do you think?" Jongin asks after a while. He doesn't that when he's out of options, when he can't think straight anymore even if he has to. Part of him wants to answer, You know what's happening, Jongin. You just keep telling yourself that it's not true. The other half wants to say, Do you really have to ask? Sometimes you need to hear it from someone else for it to sound more real. So that it will be easier for you to convince yourself that you're not just being some impulsive boy feeling all warm and fuzzy inside when your crush touches you, and feeling weird and restless and so damn unsettled when your crush touches someone else.

"Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?"

Jongin chuckles, then rolls over to his side to move closer to Zitao. He stops, putting a few good inches between them, giving Zitao the option to sink or swim. "The first. I think I need a wake-up call or something."

Zitao laughs a little and inches closer, then wraps his arms around Jongin's body. "What you need is a hug and to stop… well, stopping yourself from feeling things. It's bad, y'know?"

"It's unproductive," Jongin groans.

"Also, leaves a bad taste in the mouth." Zitao ends with some sound resembling puking. It sounds like weird laughter, instead. "So just accept that you like Joonmyun-hyung. It will make things easier, I guess?"

How? How will things be easier to digest once he accepts that he does feel more than that weird idol-crushing thing for Joonmyun? That won't stop him from feeling weird things and getting the urge to punch Baekhyun in the face at the slightest touch between the two. That won't stop him from wanting to stare at Joonmyun the whole day and looking forward to residency hours because then he can study and be with Joonmyun at the same time; it's like shooting birds with one stone. But acceptance won't give Jongin that same skill to shoot down his bad urges and bed urges. It won't help at all.

"And then? Then what?" He laughs a little. It sounds a bit scratchy, but then he'd half-assed the sound earlier. He knows Zitao can tell – Zitao's giving his back a light pound with his fist now. If Zitao did that out of the blue then he gets a free pass to socking Zitao in the gut. Maybe later. "It's not as if I can demand more of his time if I do that. Or, or–" He lets out a loud exhale. "He has Baekhyun-hyung, okay? What if I just stop wallowing in misery and finish Omega Ruby without him? That'll help. At least Pokemon will always be there to make my day better."

"Now that's stupid," Zitao whispers. "You said so, yourself – you made a promise and you don't break promises. So… I dunno, man. Just– Try to look the other way whenever the two act all lovey-dovey. Or jump ship and join a new org. That would make things easier."

"Sounds like running away," Jongin argues. "Looks bad. Pathetic. I'll just suck it up and hope he'll stop liking Pokemon so I won't feel bad about wanting to exact revenge by finishing Ruby."

Zitao pulls away for a moment, looking at him with a steady gaze. "Man, you've got it bad," he says. "Really bad. Like, Team Rocket kind of bad."

"If it's that bad then I'm a goner. Team Rocket's a bunch of losers."

"Nice losers," Zitao corrects. He blows air at Jongin's hair with his nose pressed to the crown, then says, "But losers, nonetheless."

Jongin isn't sure how that's supposed to make him feel better, so he just buries his face in Zitao's chest. The fit is awkward, but it's comfortable enough to not put a strain on his back. It's comfortable enough that he finds himself falling asleep in the warmth of Zitao's bed, then waking up in the same position without any muscle pains. He gets up, then, seals the bag of Combos, and scribbles a message on one of Zitao's sticky notes. He makes sure to tack it to Zitao's forehead before he leaves.

He takes a deep breath and hauls his bag over his shoulder, then, and eases the creases on his shirt. Nodding his head, he makes his way back to the club room, hoping to see something better and get something done, for real.

♬ ♬ ♬

The deluge of requirements for school couldn't have come at a better time. With only three weeks until midterms, all the students are swamped with work again. Jongin has gotten the timing down by now, or so he'd like to think – two weeks of 'downtime' a.k.a. two to three assignments the whole week, then a week of preparation before going to war. There's always something happening at the end of every month – big exams, practicals, pre-midterms, whatever that shit is supposed to mean – and he isn't exactly surprised. He's in school, after all, and what are students expected to do here? Study, of course.

Render five hours of residency every week, as well, but Jongin has been choosing odd hours recently. He still runs into Joonmyun from time to time, but often it's Soojung and Kyungsoo who he ends up having to share the club room with. And both are very effective study buddies. The rule among the three of them is to not talk unless there's imminent danger. That involves grumbling stomachs and unexpected phone calls.

"Shit," Kyungsoo curses under his breath. He raises his phone in the air and Jongin catches Baekhyun's picture on the screen. "I have to take this outside. Hey, yeah, Baek, what's– What the fuck? What do you mean we're– Ugh, I'm going to kill him!"

So six in the evening on a Thursday sees Kyungsoo scurrying out of the club room, dragging his bag behind him and swearing upon whatever gods there are that he's going to maim a certain Kim Jongdae for screwing up his project with Baekhyun. Kyungsoo doesn't forget to wave a hand over his shoulder, though, despite the frustration, and Soojung only shakes her head in response.

"Jongdae-oppa was part of the broadcasting club before. He had to drop the membership and focus on choir because he's being primed to be the next choir lead and he's rehearsing for the upcoming musical," Soojung narrates. Her lips are still slightly parted so Jongin waits for a follow up, or at least a bit of explanation on what the musical is. "Same week as midterm week. Since that's the only time their coach is available to supervise the presentation. It's… pretty tough."

Jongin takes a deep breath and nods. He cracks his knuckles. "Sometimes I'm glad that I'm not good at those stuff. I'm only ever good at academics."

Soojung laughs a little. "I wanted to do the musical, but–" She lets out a loud exhale. "Maybe next semester. It's hard to ease back into the swing of things and busy myself with extra-curriculars. Broadcasting club's pretty relaxed, compared to other communications clubs." She snorts. "Well, when it's not Broadcasting Week, at least."

"Oh yeah," Jongin mentions. "When's that, by the way."

"Two weeks from now."

"Two weeks from–" He widens his eyes at Soojung and cocks his head to the side. "Why aren't we preparing yet? Why are not even talking about it? Why–" He pauses the track playing on his iPod and removes his headphones. Good thing he isn't wearing his glasses today or he would've done something to it already. "We only have two weeks left – we have to do something!"

Soojung erupts into a peal of laughter this time, like two weeks is enough time to come up with something great. It isn't. Or maybe it is, but Jongin isn't sure if he can pull it off without driving himself crazy and ending up as a sobbing mess at the end of the week. At least there are five other club members to commiserate with him, but still! Soojung interrupts his internal panicking by holding up a hand in front of him and facing him with a smile. "Relax," she says, then laughs a little. "Joonmyun-hyung's probably coming up with a plan right now. He's good at that. And he doesn't like it when people meddle in his 'serious broadcasting business'."

He doesn't like it when people meddle– Soojung's voice trails off in Jongin's mind right after that word. It makes sense – a person with a secret identity he's been trying to push to the very back of people's minds won't appreciate people breathing down his neck just to get things done. Joonmyun likes to do things his way, no matter how unorthodox his means may be. Still, Jongin can't help but feel a bit antsy. Rushing things has only ever brought bad results upon him.

"So we just wait?" Jongin asks.

"Yes, we just have to wait. And be blown away but whatever plans he has in store for the week-long celebration."

Sounds like a week-long hell, Jongin wants to say. That will fall on the week before midterms and damn if Jongin doesn't die with the amount of work he has to do. Still, the prospect of boarding alongside Joonmyun, sharing the booth with him again – it excites him. It also makes his insides turn and makes him more hungry than he should be. It hasn't even been that long since he's last eaten something.

"I dunno. It makes me nervous," he confesses. He scratches the surface of his book then looks up at Soojung, meeting her gaze. "I'm bad with improvisation and stuff. Plans make me feel warm and cozy."

Soojung shoots him a sharp gaze. "Well, this isn't about feeling warm and cozy." She reaches out and flicks a finger at Jongin's nose. "It's about challenging ourselves and recommending great music in the process. And that's why you're here in the broadcasting club, right? Because there's a message that you want to relay through communicating with a huge audience?"

Yes, and no, he wants to say. He's here to be a cool DJ and follow the steps of his idol, $uho. But then Joonmyun destroyed that cool and perfect (save for the outfit, really) image of $uho in his mind with his warm smile and his soft giggles. And of course, the feather-light touches and the sidelong glances. He still doesn't get it. Either Joonmyun's just really good at watching his words but not his hands, or he has difficulty expressing himself outside the booth. That would make sense – not all comedians are happy and bubbly all the time, after all.

"I suppose," he replies. He takes a deep breath and looks back down at his reading material. The thing just won't end, but then there's a reason why it's called 'The History of Film'. Jesus, Jongin, some common sense? "I guess there's nothing we can do about it, huh? Nothing to do but to wait?"

He catches Soojung's soft laughter through the rustling of pages. "Nothing to do but to wait, indeed," Soojung echoes. She plugs in her earphones after that. Nickelback blasts from her earphones and Jongin fears for Soojung's hearing for a moment.

He falls asleep halfway through the last bit of his reading for his History of Film class and doing some online practice color correction exams. He's cheating, really – he's pretty sure the selective color tool in Photoshop doesn't work exactly the same way as white balance in film does – but practice is still practice. The most important thing is that he has the principle of canceling out excess hues of color on a composition by applying a layer of its complementary color on it down. Everything else will follow. All other information will come to him once he's faced with a situation where he has to salvage poor lighting.

Like an indoor shot with yellow lighting in the evening, Jongin muses as something beeps in the background and the door swings forward. The subject is wearing a bright shade of red that makes him look ten times better than the usual, but makes the composition look warmer than it should. The smile on his lips isn't helping, only makes it more impossible to add a layer of cool color to tone down the warm hues. But Joonmyun isn't the type to be deterred from shining just by a few layers of blue or white light. He's above that. He's every difficult color to fix in any composition, the toughest test ever. The toughest nut to crack and the cookie to break.

"My mother sent me oatmeal cookies," Joonmyun announces when he arrives. He places the basket on his desk and takes three pieces, individually packed, then hands one to Soojung. He turns to Jongin with a small smile and bright eyes. Daylight. I need daylight white balance on this one, Jongin muses.

Joonmyun's hands him the cookie and Joonmyun hooks the pads of his fingers of the side of Jongin's palm, not willing to – let go of Jongin's hand? Let go of the cookie and let Jongin eat it in peace? He can't tell. All the knows is that Joonmyun's fingers are cold and that his touch stings. Pricks his skin. Makes his insides turn.

"And I finally catch you here," Joonmyun says. He releases Jongin's hand from his hold but reaches out to cup Jongin's cheek with his other hand, pinching it. "Haven't seen you around in a while."

In a while means a few days, give or take. Jongin just discovered that he's acquired two skills since he's met Joonmyun in the flesh: 1) superior stalking skills; and 2) superior hiding skills. He'd make a great ninja if he wasn't studying. Maybe a change in career is in order.

"Busy. With stuff," Jongin mumbles. He tucks his chin in his neck and looks down, but Joonmyun tilts his own head and follows his gaze. "Lots of homework to do."

Joonmyun chuckles. "Yeah. Midterm week is just around the corner."

Soojung is blessedly quiet, but Jongin can't tell right now if that is indeed a blessing or a curse. He can't hear his voice above the loud thumping in his chest, it's stilly. Joonmyun doesn't seem to mind, takes the empty seat beside Jongin's and makes himself comfortable there. Jongin knows that Joonmyun almost always prefers to study in his own desk because all his things are already there; still, he chooses to join them this time. His knees bump into Jongin's own and Jongin catches the light jerk of Joonmyun's body at the collision. He can feel a jolt of electricity shoot up his thighs, make the pulse at the back of his knees stronger.

"Do you need help with anything?" Joonmyun asks, inching closer to where Jongin is.

Jongin feels every part of his stiffen. His fingers are numb and his eyes are wide and he can't tear them away from the material even if he wants to, if he really wants to. There's a danger in losing focus and looking to his side to meet Joonmyun's gaze because he knows how this will pan out – Joonmyun will attempt to help him and explain a few things here and there, but Jongin's brain will always go back to the heat of their pressed thighs, to Joonmyun's breath hot and sticky along the curve of his neck. He'd hit a downward spiral after that. Then he'll regret everything in the morning because he has ten more pages to power through before he can slack of and, maybe, grab something to eat again.

Joonmyun makes his body go into this weird state where everything's just wrong and wanting. Like there's something lacking – in his brain or in his stomach, sometimes both. And sometimes in his chest, as well, like there's a huge hole in there somewhere that's waiting for something to fill it with warmth. Joonmyun's warm hands on his chest will do. Jongin isn't picky. Joonmyun will always be his first pick.

Dammit, Jongin! Focus! he tells himself for the last time. "Nah, I'm good," he tells Joonmyun, then stares at the text again. He doesn't put on his headphones because that will be a dismissal. He needs to concentrate, not drive the source of distraction away. Beside, Joonmyun's warm hand on his thigh is soothing in its own way. As long as it doesn't dip between his thighs or inside his pants, he's good.

He feels his dick twitch in his pants. Nope. Not good. Okay. Tungsten versus fluorescent white balance– He runs through the opening line at least thrice before he manages to progress. And Joonmyun pulls away after a while, hugs his knees to his chest, and rests his cheek there before closing his eyes.

Don't look, he reminds himself, then reads the line in his reading that he's at out loud in his mind so that he'll remember what he came here for. He powers through a few more pages and almost falls asleep at the last once, but manages to finish. Once he's done, he skims through the pages one last time, stopping at the highlighted text. He scribbles some key words on his notebook that he can quiz himself with minutes before the exam just to be sure; writing things down has always helped him memorize easier.

Soojung leaves the club room at nine in the evening, and urges Jongin to do the same. "Want me to call Chanyeol-oppa so he can pick up Joonmyun-oppa?" she asks before leaving, and Jongin only shakes his head and mumbles that he can do that, himself. He does have Chanyeol's contact number, after all, and he'd like to have a few minutes to himself just to watch the steady rise and fall of Joonmyun's shoulders, the tiny jerks of his body when his eyes begin to move rapidly beneath his eyelids. He loves Joonmyun's soft whimpers, as well, soft sounds slipping from Joonmyun's lips as he shifts a little in his seat then falls right into a peaceful slumber.

He leans closer, stopping when there's only three inches between their noses. He can feel the heat of Joonmyun's breath on his lips, can hear Joonmyun's breathing noisily through his nose, then letting out a hiccup somewhere along the way. He laughs a little and reaches out, wanting to tuck the hair that has fallen on Joonmyun's face, but Joonmyun moves again, eyes slowly fluttering open this time. He digs his hands in his back pockets, then, watching as Joonmyun rouses from his sleep little by little.

"Hey," Joonmyun whispers. His voice is thick with sleep and fatigue, but the soft smile on his lips makes the words tumble out easier. Sound clearer. He looks around then squints at where the clock is. Once he finally gets a better look at the clock, he looks up at Jongin and says, "You didn't have to stay behind."

"I was just planning to leave," Jongin reasons. He stands up straight, drawing his shoulders back, then extends a hand in Joonmyun's direction. "Get up, hyung. We should be heading back to the dorms now."

"Soojung?"

"Went back a few minutes ago," Jongin replies. He hears the sound of Joomyun's stomach grumbling. "Or d'you want to buy food first before going back? Caf's open until ten, anyway."

Joonmyun nods, eyes still heavy with lethargy. He stretches his arms over his head, smacking Jongin in the face. He cups Jongin's cheeks overhead, then, and looks up, throwing his head back so he can get a better view of Jongin. "'Hmmsorry. You okay?"

Not now. Now anymore, Jongin wants to say. Joonmyun's palms are so soft on his skin and shit, Jongin would do anything for Joonmyun to suddenly do a 360 and decide to pull Jongin's face down to give him a kiss. It's the perfect set up – Joonmyun hit Jongin in his nose and the best way to appease Jongin is by 'kissing the bubu away'. That means Joonmyun kissing the tip of Jongin's nose. If he ends up liking it, he can move further south, down to the bow of Jongin's lips, and then he can catch Jongin's bottom lip between his teeth. Then Joonmyun can kiss Jongin until he tastes nothing like Baekhyun anymore, until Jongin can taste himself in Joonmyun's mouth. Until his jaw gives out and he feels a dull ache in his muscles.

He won't have any regrets in the morning, he's sure of that.

But Joonmyun doesn't do any of those. Instead, he just kind of stares at Jongin, still sleepy-eyed, the smile on his lips so tender and warm. "I said, are you okay?" Joonmyun repeats. Jongin gulps hard in response. When he doesn't say anything, Joonmyun pulls him down by his cheeks and gives them a light pinch. "Hey. Talk to me. You can't avoid me all night long, you know?"

I can, Jongin wants to say. But he doesn't. Instead, he blurts out, "Why does it matter?"

Joonmyun blinks a few times and Jongin figures his vision's returned to its normal focus. He's squinting, like he's trying to search Jongin's face for clues. Or maybe his eyesight's just even shittier when he's just woken up. That's normal, Jongin muses. Slowly, Joonmyun traces circles on the swell of Jongin's cheeks. "It matters because I like talking to you. You make me feel at ease."

Well, at least one of us feels at ease in the presence of the other, a voice the back of Jongin's mind says. Jongin wishes he can be just as eloquent, but a sharp tongue has never been Jongin's style. "I've just been busy," Jongin mumbles, instead. He rests his palms on Joonmyun's and continues, "I'm sorry. I've been thinking about a lot of things these past few days."

Joonmyun cocks an eyebrow and lets out a faint huh? under his breath. "Is something bothering you?" Joonmyun asks, voice still scratchy and heavy with sleep. Jongin can't decide yet if he loves the tone, but he does like how it sounds – like Joonmyun is really worried, like he does want to know if something is bothering Jongin and that he'd like to help out. "You can always talk to me, if it helps."

It doesn't. It won't. It never will. "Nah, it's– I'm good."

"You always say that when you aren't," Joonmyun replies. He gives one of Jongin's cheeks a light pinch. Jongin tries to stop him, but only succeeds in slipping his fingers between Joonmyun's own. "You're shit at bluffing, just saying."

Jongin laughs a little. "That's the first time I heard you say 'shit', hyung."

Joonmyun chuckles in accord, but his voice is still thick with sleep. He chokes on the fourth ha, wheezes. His grip on Jongin's face is steady, though. "Well, there's a first time for everything."

And it's true, Jongin supposes – there's a first time for him to come to class five minutes late and that's because he overslept. There's a first time for him to not get a score above the 75% mark. There's a first time for him to feel like jumping and squealing and yet feel like he's being torn apart, and that what this is. This – Joonmyun cupping his cheeks and looking at him like he's the only thing, the only person that matters in the world – it feels like feeling hungry again after pigging out before class. And fighting the urge to give in to the temptation of falling asleep.

It feels like a combination of things, but it also feels like winning when Joonmyun laughs a little, out of things to say, and whispers, "You're cute."

Jongin drops his hands to his side, fingers tracing a line along the length of Joonmyun's outstretched arms. Joonmyun pulls away after a while, but not without a light pinch the cheeks. "C'mon, let's grab something to eat," Joonmyun says, then stands from his seat. He straightens out his polo like he hasn't just cupped Jongin's face earlier and given Jongin an excuse to kiss him.

So Jongin says, "Your treat, hyung?" because that's the only way he can get back at Joonmyun for making him feel this way. "Because I'm not coming if you aren't buying."

Joonmyun rolls his eyes and slings an arm around Jongin's shoulder, saying, "Fine, fine. Anything for my favorite." Jongin tries not to freeze, not when their bodies are pressed so close like this. Instead, he focuses on the steady beating of Joonmyun's pulse on his arm, their even breathing, and their feet falling into step with each other.

♬ ♬ ♬

Joonmyun gathers the club members for a meeting on what they'll be doing for broadcasting week. It isn't anything fancy – they're doing the same old all-day-long broadcast complete with phone-in questions and taking song requests, which will be easier since they're using KKT for calls now and Twitter for requests. "Now, what we have to think about, because I'm bad at innovating, is a twist," Joonmyun tells them. "I've got the entire schedule mapped out, but we at least need to have a theme for our shows. Are we preparing them for summer? Are we… trying to help them get through midterms?"

"We did that last year," Kyungsoo offers, frowning. "I'm all for themed programs but we can't pull off the midterm salvation program again. How about using 'decades' as the delineation?"

Baekhyun snorts. "I'm not sure if some people will appreciate your kind of music, Soo–"

"I like old songs," Joonmyun interrupts. There isn't anything different with the way the corners of his lips curl up into a smile, but his gaze is sharp, piercing, taunting. "Hmm. That's… a pretty good suggestion. Anything else?"

"Seconding the decades suggestion," Jongin says as he raises a hand in agreement. "We might run out too quickly if we play themed songs. But–" The strangest idea hits his mind, and he turns to Joonmyun with a grin that he guesses looks weird because the smile on Joonmyun's lips has turned into a mash-up between a frown and a scowl. "What if we ask the listeners for the soundtrack of their life? That way, we can… I dunno, touch a lot of things? Their love lives, school lives, extra-curricular or something lives, family woes, if any–"

Joonmyun cocks an eyebrow, and the tight corners of his lips quirk up. "That's a very interesting suggestion. Just– Just one program, right? We can… mix that up with the decades suggestion."

Chanyeol flashes two thumbs up, and Soojung nods in agreement. "I like the 'soundtrack of your life' theme for a program," Soojung comments. "I know a lot of people who have a playlist in their iPods just for that. It's like an extension of your life, forward and backward."

Jongin laughs a little. The sad reality is that most of the songs in the soundtrack of his life are about pining, unrequited love, falling in love with your best friend and realizing that you're so stupid for being so hung up on him for a decade already. It's that bad. "I know a few people in class who's send requests," Jongin mentions. "I'm just… not sure how the professors will take students tweeting in class."

Joonmyun shrugs, taking a deep breath and he lets out the air in his lungs in soft laughter. "There will always be a student who doesn't have class at any point of the day." He pushes himself off his seat and stands up straight, locking his arms in front of him. "I guess it's just a matter of the students just being extra careful when tweeting us things."

"Make sure they use the correct hashtag," Kyungsoo says as a reminder. "You know people. They find it hard to follow instructions most of the time." He turns to look at Baekhyun when he ends, an eyebrow raised and a corner of his lips tugged up in the tiniest smile. Baekhyun groans at him. It makes Jongin feel like dancing, but he knows better than to proclaim to the entire group that he's taking pleasure in Baekhyun's 'misery'. So instead, he hums and cracks his knuckles because that's what he normally does when he can't find the right words to say.

Then the image of Joonmyun sitting opposite him flashes before his eyes, an image of Joonmyun cracking his neck, then stretching his arms in front of him, then crackling his knuckles. Then Joonmyun would look up at him through the slits of his bangs and ask, Is everything okay, Jongin?

"Hey," Soojung says, nudging Jongin in the side. "Have you even been getting any sleep? We lost you again."

Jongin blinks a few times, trying to refocus his vision, and resurfaces with a nod. When he looks up, he meets Joonmyun's gaze – searching, assessing. He mumbles, "I'm good. I'm alive."

So the start of broadcasting week has Jongin running from his last class for the day straight to the club room. He navigates his way through narrow corridors, his favorite shortcut, and crosses the bridge between the Film and Broadcasting building. He swipes his ID at the door and off comes the lock. It takes all of his control to not apply too much force on the knob when he twists it, and he takes a peek inside before swinging the door all the way forward.

"They're inside," says a girl, someone Jongin recalls as one of Soojung's classmates – Sunyoung, that's her name. "You're Kim Jongin, right?"

Jongin nods and says, "Mhmm."

"Park Sunyoung. I… think Soojung introduced us to each other before." She gives Jongin a warm smile. "Ten minutes 'til you board. You should be getting ready."

Jongin takes a deep breath, then presses his lips thinly together. He leaves his bag on the couch near Joonmyun's own and exhales loudly when he sees no red cardigan in sight. He contemplates on bringing his phone with him, but then he won't have a use for that when he's manning the booth and calling the shots. Joonmyun said last night that there might be a chance that he'll board alone, and that don't worry, it will be alright. I have faith in you, Jonginnie.

Jonginnie. Jongin's breath hitches. He clears his throat, trying to ease the knots in his muscles, then makes his way to the booth. "Wish me luck."

Sunyoung gives him a thumbs-up and whispers, "Break a leg!"

Jongin will never get used to this narrow passageway from the main room to the booth. It's like entering a new world, an entirely different universe. He always has to hold his breath when he turns the knob and steps inside, as if in an attempt to pay respect to the machinery and equipment in the room. The microphones, the equalizers, the mixers, all these tools that they use to capture sound with – they're not just things. They're their partners in getting their message across.

He twists the knob and pushes the door forward, trying to not make any noise. When he peeks inside, he finds Chanyeol controlling the computer and the equalizer on this side of the booth, while Baekhyun and Soojung engage in a friendly banter on the other side.

"Weird combination, isn't it?" comes a familiar voice. All too soon, Jongin feels the tension in his shoulders lift, and at the same time feels his stomach lurch in several different directions. You've got to make up your mind, he tells himself. You can't be caught in the crossfire all the fucking time– "Their show trended earlier, though. I kinda want them to team up on the last day again. Might help bring our ratings up."

Chanyeol chuckles, and Joonmyun sticks out his tongue in Chanyeol's direction. To Jongin, he says, "And by ratings, I mean the trends. I'm just… imagining this as a real station with real programs and real rating targets."

Jongin shakes his head and laughs, but he's careful to keep the sounds he makes to a bare minimum. "So, are we aiming for the top trend in Seoul, hyung?" he asks, an eyebrow raised. He tries to keep the smile on his lips small and tight, careful to not give away the excitement too easily, but Joonmyun seems to catch it when he reaches up to poke Jongin's cheek.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jongin," Joonmyun whispers, then drops his hand to his side. He turns to face the two again, and when Jongin does the same and leans against the wall of the booth, he finds Baekhyun staring at him, eyes sharp and void of the same glimmer of laughter that his voice has.

Baekhyun and Soojung wrap up their program with a Boyce Avenue and Alex Goot collaboration of a Beatles cover. The lyrics get drowned in the laughter and the congratulations. Jongin gives Soojung a pat on the back, then gives Baekhyun a high-five when their eyes meet. "Congrats for trending, hyung. First program of ours to reach the top ten, right?"

Something flickers in Baekhyun's eyes for a moment and then it's gone, replaced instead by a look of surprise. "Uh, yeah. First trend since the morning." He looks away, fixing his eyes on his shoes, then adds, "Though to be fair, it is the longest program today so I guess it's just–"

"Hey, you did well," Joonmyun offers. He gives Baekhyun's hair a gentle fluff, then lets his fingers catch on its strands as he slides his hand down to rest on Baekhyun's shoulder. "Never thought you'd have chemistry with Soojung."

From a corner of Jongin's eye, he sees Soojung craning her neck. Chanyeol proves to be a good distraction, though, circling an arm around her shoulder and nuzzling the crown of her hair. Her cheeks are a light shade of pink. Baekhyun's are, too.

"See? There's merit in… testing out different combinations," Baekhyun replies.

Joonmyun stops, stares for a moment, then brushes his knuckles across Baekhyun's cheek. "Don't be silly. That doesn't apply to everything."

Baekhyun and Soojung excuse themselves after a while. Chanyeol stays a little longer, not leaving until he's checked for the last time if Baekhyun and Soojung's program is still trending. The hashtag has dropped from #4 to #8, but the program ran for three hours and not once did the hashtag drop from the top ten.

"This'll be hard to top, hyung," Chanyeol tells Joonmyun. "Think you can beat that?"

"Joonmyun-hyung? But–" Jongin points at himself, then says, "I thought I was boarding alone? Did the schedule change?"

"Ah, I had to move some things around. I met up with Kim-sonsaengnim early this morning so I can do this program with you," Joonmyun explains, voice lilting like it's normal for him to move his schedule around just for Jongin. It makes Jongin's breath hitch, makes his insides turn all the more. He didn't even think that was still possible. "Unless you don't want to board with me–"

"No, hyung, it's–" Fine. Perfect. Everything that he's been asking for really, especially now that the entire school population will hear them – DJs $uho and Kai and their easy volleying of lines on air. He's been waiting for this to happen for years. "It's okay. I mean, it's not as if we haven't done this before."

Joonmyun's gaze hasn't waned, not even for a second, and the corners of his eyes crinkle in tandem with the slow-forming smile on his lips. He looks as if he can see right through Jongin or at least see into his brain out, pick out the words that Jongin can't and won't say and form his own meaning out of those words altogether. "Well, good point," Joonmyun says after a while, then wraps his fingers around Jongin's wrist. "We have, haven't we?"

Jongin takes a deep breath at the first contact, at the feeling of Joonmyun's cold fingers on his skin. He remembers, without meaning to, that time when Joonmyun had stared at him for the longest time, like he was expecting Jongin to understand whatever it is that he wasn't saying. Remembers that time when Joonmyun had his knees pressed to Jongin's inner thighs, remembers the fit of their bodies and the gaping lack of warmth when Joonmyun pulled away.

"Yeah, so–" Jongin gulps, then lets Joonmyun lead him to the other side of the booth. "Yeah. Boarding. Together. Sounds good."

Jongin is no stranger to this – it's Joonmyun's opening theme for all of his $uho videos. It's a slightly different version, though – the instrumental hasn't hit the chorus yet, and they're already ten seconds into the intro. It's almost as if Joonmyun stalling this out, still gathering his words or maybe his thoughts. Joonmyun leans closer to the microphone, though, pulling away just a little to wet his lips before parting them to speak.

"Good afternoon, Korea National University of the Arts! It's a nice spring afternoon outside, perfect for a long walk under the sun or maybe just a leisurely stroll down the park." Joonmyun turns to look at Jongin, an eyebrow raised. "Right, partner?"

Shit, Jongin thinks, they're on-air and live. People can see them, can see their faces, and he can't make the mistake of nipping on his nails or fumbling with the hem of his shirt. The spiel is familiar, though, like they have done this before, in the recent past. Then the memory hits Jongin – his exam for the broadcasting club, boarding alongside Joonmyun for the first time. Experiencing calling out the shots and giving song recommendations for the first time in his life and having to make sure that everything he says is correct and not him shitting on people's facts.

You've got this, Joonmyun's eyes are saying. Come on, Jongin, we've done this before–

"Ah, that's true," Jongin answers. "But the thing is–" He laughs a little. He can't shit on the professors. "–we're here in school, labouring all over academic requirements in preparation for next week. And what do we call that week again? He– What's it called?"

Joonmyun kicks him under the table as if saying, fuck you, we can't edit that out. "The passage to heaven, that's what it's called." Joonmyun bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing. "The best part is that two weeks after, we can can finally get a much-needed rest so we can return to school refreshed–"

"–and ready to tackle whatever life has to throw at us," Jongin finishes. Joonmyun slips a paper in his direction, with a message that says intro soundtrack of your life then I'll segue to our first song. Jongin runs through a few lines in his mind but shit, it's hard to come up with something that doesn't sound stilted without dropping a few choice swear words here and there. It gets the message across easier sometimes, expletives. They're the fastest way to say, I'm having a bad day so don't you even dare talk to me.

"And then you can start over. Play a new track in the soundtrack of your life, or maybe create an entirely new one. Sounds good for a refreshing return to school, yeah? Now while we're on that topic–" He refreshes the Twitter page and spots their hashtag at #10. He pokes Joonmyun in the arm and points at the list. "–do you have any songs that you'd consider part of 'the soundtrack of your life'? Because I know quite a few people who have a theme song for everything. Like, this friend of mine, Tao, he sings a song from Enchanted when he's cleaning his dorm room."

Joonmyun chuckles and tears his gaze from the list of trends. "Happy Working Song is the best working song. It just gets your gears turning and fuels you to clean more things."

"And then you'll fall into this pit of boredom and sing When Will My Life Begin? until you find something new and exciting to do in your life." Jongin takes a deep breath and tries not to freak out when Joonmyun refreshes the Twitter page and he sees their hashtag climb up a spot. "What about you, hyung? Do you have any theme songs for your life? Or, say, studying?"

"Ah…" Joonmyun nods in thought. "Eye of the Tiger is my default studying song. Here's a recommendation for all our listeners: say, you're studying for a really important exam in six hours. Put on those earphones, play Eye of the Tiger, and close your eyes when you get to the chorus. You'll just… feel the wheels in your mind turning and you'll get to absorb information faster!"

"Hyung, if that method doesn't work–"

"It will," Joonmyun replies, meeting Jongin in the eye. The cock of the eyebrows says, don't doubt me now, Kim Jongin; the curl of his lips, you're getting a hang of this. "It's worked for me at least a hundred times already. And, well, let's just say I haven't dropped from the honors list since I started in K-ARTS."

Jongin covers his microphone and whispers, "You are not fucking around with me, hyung."

Joonmyun shakes his head, then says into the microphone, "But Eye of the Tiger isn't the only song perfect for those long nights of studying, right." He faces away from the microphone and clears his throat. "So we'd like to ask our listeners, what are the theme songs of your life, be it in school or elsewhere? Send us a tweet – don't forget to tag @kartsbroadclub and use the hashtag, #SoundtrackOfMyLife. First up in the soundtrack of our lives is a nice track from Westlife. This also goes out to those guys and girls who can't seem to find the right words to say, so they'd rather sing it in a love song."

What the fuck, hyung? Jongin wants to say, but decides against it. Instead, he sits back and waits for his cue, listens carefully to Joonmyun's spiel.

"Here's Obvious from their hit album, Turnaround. This is DJ $uho–"

Jongin catches Joonmyun's gaze and pins him with a stare. "–and this is DJ Kai–"

"And you are turned to K-ARTS FM, the only station in Seoul that reaches your heart through songs," Joonmyun finishes.

It's a cheesy end to a nice spiel, really. It's the worst that Jongin has heard from Joonmyun, and that's saying a lot because he's followed Joonmyun's online career for years. He knows how Joonmyun signs off or transitions from one segment to another. But there's a message in there, somewhere, that Jongin isn't sure if he wants to dig up and spend time deciphering. He doesn't know if he wants to do his own investigating again and end up getting the short end of the stick, or if he just wants to stick around long enough and wait until Joonmyun comes up to him with a confession in one hand and a promise of kissing 'til the next day in the other.

Jongin pushes himself away from them desk and pokes Joonmyun in his side. Joonmyun giggles a little, but it's a good thing that Sunyoung has turned off their microphones. "Hyung, seriously, Westlife? For an opening track? Couldn't we have gone for–"

"Something that will touch their hearts and urge them to share the 'soundtrack of their life' with us," Joonmyun continues. He grins at the end of his statement, excitement spilling from the corners of his lips. "It doesn't have to be the perfect song, Jongin. It just has to be a song that's relatable to listeners so they'll feel like this whole radio set up? We're doing it the other way around – they're the ones manning the booth, and we're the ones listening to them."

A part of Jongin wants to say, bullshit, hyung, but it makes a lot of sense. The trends aren't lying, either – their hashtag has jumped from #8 to #3 in a span of ten minutes. Without anything else to say, Jongin mumbles, "You're crazy, hyung."

Joonmyun holds his gaze a little longer and pokes him right back. "So are you."

♬ ♬ ♬

They've already sealed the top spot for at least an hour already by the time the program ends. They end with one of the requested songs – Lady Antebellum's Just a Kiss – and off-air Joonmyun wonders what made the listener ask for that song. "I guess we'll find out on Thursday, huh?" Joonmyun says, turning to look at Jongin. "When we board again, together?"

Still high on adrenaline and drunk on the feeling of actually going on air, with a thousand or more people to listen to him and show appreciation for his DJing skills, it takes a while for the news to sink into Jongin's mind. Ten whole seconds, to be exact, or until Joonmyun begins to wave a hand in front of him. "Guess you're still reeling," Joonmyun mumbles, but he isn't even teasing Jongin. Jongin has spent years studying $uho's – no, Joonmyun's – features that, by now, he knows that the gentle nipping at the bottom lip and the shy glance from between the slits of his bangs means Joonmyun is in the same state, as well.

"No words, hyung. No words," Jongin mumbles, then slumps in his seat as soon as Sunyoung raises two thumbs up at them. "Can't believe we just went on air and that we–"

"Trended the entire time. The whole show." Joonmyun moves closer, knees bumping into Jongin's thigh. "From #8 then all the way up to #1. It feels… Wow."

Joonmyun only chuckles in response. He inches even closer, their thighs pressed side-to-side now. He can feel the heat of Joonmyun's skin through the material of his pants, can feel the shift of Joonmyun's muscles in the tight press of their bodies. Even this feels surreal, because he can feel the light trembling of Joonmyun's fingers on his thigh, tickling his knee. He looks to his side, furrowing his eyebrows at Joonmyun – Joonmyun has been doing this for at least three years already, and facing the online community for an even longer time. This – a simple, non-graded radio program shouldn't scare him shitless anymore.

"Ah, that felt great," Joonmyun says after a while. He throws his head back, exposing the column of his neck, then looks at Jongin through half-lidded eyes. "I had fun, Jongin," he continues. "Thank you. I haven't… felt like this in a while."

Jongin laughs a little. Joonmyun must be joking – he's been doing this for years, training rookies like him every semester, even. He's bluffing, Jongin knows it. If Joonmyun were anything like him then he'd also be a shitty liar, but then Joonmyun hasn't looked away yet, hasn't cackled at him to say, hah, I was kidding! The smile on his lips is unwavering and–

And Joonmyun's reaching out to trace the curve of Jongin's cheek with his cold fingers. And Joonmyun's tucking Jongin's hair behind his ear, and smiling even wider as he slides his hand down. And he's holding Jongin by the chin. And he's sitting up, inching closer, and Jongin can feel Joonmyun's hot breath on his lips.

And Jongin closes his eyes because come on, Jongin, wake up. This is not a nice dream. You can't think of these things in class, Jongin, you can't–

"Can I?" Joonmyun asks, voice soft, barely above a whisper.

Can you what? Can Joonmyun dig a deeper grave for Jongin? Can he climb on Jongin's lap and kiss him senseless? Can he expose the two of them in front of the camera, in front of all the people watching the broadcasting club's live broadcast? Jongin crosses the last bit off; Sunyoung turned off the camera earlier, made sure to double check that they're already off-air. It's just the two of them now – Jongin and Joonmyun, alone in the booth, with Joonmyun hovering him, breathing heavy and ragged against Jongin's chest. He can feel the light tremble of Joonmyun's fingers on his chin and shit if he doesn't want this. He does. He just doesn't know why Joonmyun wants the same thing when he has Baekhyun by his side already.

"Hyung–"

Joonmyun laughs a little and leans closer, then presses a soft kiss to the tip of Jongin's nose.

Jongin exhales, loud and uninhibited. Joonmyun pulls away with an easy smile. He's lost all the feeling in his hands, his arms, his thighs where Joonmyun had a knee pressing down on him earlier. His lips still feel cold and dry, though. Half of him feels bereft, and he'd chase Joonmyun's retreating figure if he could but he's glued to the same spot, pinned in place by Joonmyun's stare.

Jongin gulps hard, then says, "Hyung, I–"

"Dinner?" Joonmyun interrupts, then stands from his seat. He dusts himself off, stretches his arms over his head. Joonmyun's defenseless like this, so Jongin takes a leap of faith, stands from where he is to place a soft kiss to Joonmyun's cheek. He can feel his insides turn, can hear all these voices screaming in his head, saying, Abort, abort! Abort the mission! He froze and he isn't happy but hey, didn't he make the first move–

And then Joonmyun's eyes widen and Jongin hears a hitch in his breath. He hears Joonmyun's loud gulp, hears the faint gasp that spills from Joonmyun's lips. And never – he repeats the word never – has he ever felt so fucking triumphant in his entire life. This tops the top trend by a long mile.

"Dinner, hyung?" he asks, recovering, and Joonmyun turns to him with wide eyes and parted lips. He holds out his hand, waiting for Joonmyun's own.

Joonmyun reaches out without hesitation.

♬ ♬ ♬

"So," Jongin begins, breath hitching as the last sound in the syllable rolls off his tongue. "We... kissed."

Zitao looks up from his DS then looks down again, but only to save his game. It takes fifteen seconds for Zitao to put everything down and shift in his seat so that he's facing Jongin on his bed, legs folded under his weight. "What do you mean you kissed?" he asks, slow and tentative, eyes narrowed at Jongin like he's trying to digest the whole scenario with all these tiny bits of clues from Jongin. "You kissed kissed or you kissed him and then he–"

"He kissed me. On the nose," Jongin says, tapping the tip, then continues, "And then I froze. And then I decided to, uh, do something really stupid after that and–"

"You pinned him to the wall and kissed him senseless?" Zitao asks, grinning.

"Nah. I just–" Zitao's smile plummets into a frown and Jongin lets out a loud exhale. "I just... kissed him on the cheek. And he froze, as well."

It's hard to explain the dynamics of the entire thing. Technically, they didn't kiss, but it sort of counts as a mutual thing given the similar reactions and the change in the dynamics afterwards. During dinner, Joonmyun sat beside him and traced patterns on his thigh, fingers dipping so dangerously low that Jongin almost feared his dick would jump right out of his pants. After that, they took a walk around the campus to help the food go down. Joonmyun held his wrist, and he didn't shuck Joonmyun's hand away. So in essence, it does count as an acknowledgment of each other's feelings. And maybe if Jongin pressed his nose to Joonmyun's cheek then that would count as them really kissing each other.

Jongin shakes his head. It's confusing as fuck. It doesn't make sense. All that makes sense to him right now is the fact that Joonmyun kissed him on the tip of his nose and sort of held his hand the whole night. That's enough to make his heart somersault in his chest one more time, enough for him to turn to Zitao with a crazy grin.

"Okay, question: did he say anything about it after that?" Zitao asks now as he rubs the rip of his nose. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are pursed, like he's actually assessing the situation. It would've been funny if Zitao was studying anyone else's case, but this is Jongin's 'Joonmyun Thing' they're dealing with. And this confusing emotion bubbling in his chest isn't supposed to be funny.

"No?" Jongin replies in an instant. He cranes his neck, checking for any stray food in Zitao's room, but to no avail. It's one of those days when Zitao decided to be tidy for once. It's a miracle. Maybe that's it – this is a day for miracles. "And yes. Like, I asked him – hyung, so, about that thing, – and he said that we're cool and that we shouldn't act weird."

Zitao takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, likes it's taking a lot of effort from him just doing... anything but that. "He's avoiding the topic. Which means he's awkward. Which means you just made him awkward because of that." Zitao buries his face in his hands. "Oh God, what will you do now?"

Yeah, is the only thing that registers in his brain at the moment. He knows he's supposed to ask for some sort of affirmation or a confirmation that hey, Joonmyun feels the same way, whatever that means, and that maybe Joonmyun has felt like that for a while, even before Jongin decided that fuck it, he's going to return that kiss, just not on the tip of Joonmyun's nose. He knows he's supposed to take a logical approach to things, but how can he? How can he when the only coherent and cohesive sentences that his brain can form at the moment are he kissed me and I kissed him?

So he confesses, "I don't know, man." He takes a deep breath, shifts in his seat so that he's leaning on Zitao's shoulder. "I don't know. I just... know that I'm really happy. Or feeling really good about this."

Zitao leans back a little, taking a good look at Jongin, but he holds Jongin's head in place, keeps it there on his shoulder, lets Jongin cushion his muddled brain there. "Just... relish the moment, I guess," Zitao mumbles. They're young. They should be enjoying these kinds of things, happy feelings bubbling in their chests and threatening to break free from the bounds of their shirts. They should focus on that. Jongin should focus on the now and not lose sight of that goal, not think back and tell his younger self that, Hey, you know this feeling? You could've let yourself feel this a long time ago if you only tried to break free from whatever it was that you and Sehun had back when you were kids.

Focus, Jongin. Fucking focus on the now, he tells himself. If Sehun found it easy to magically disappear from his life only a few weeks after he moved to another country then he should be able to get a move on. There's no use getting stuck in the past when everyone's moving forward.

He closes his eyes and does exactly as he is told – think of the happy things, of boarding with Joonmyun again tomorrow, and the day after, and then the next. He thinks of acing his midterm exams and just keeps taking small steps forward – the week after their midterms, he'll marathon Pokemon with Joonmyun. And maybe by then they'd have arrived at a conclusion about this 'thing' that they have.

"Wanna finish the last gym with me?" Zitao asks after a while, voice muffled in Jongin's hair.

Jongin laughs a little and nods because why the hell not? "Let's beat the crap out of that gym," he says. "Let's do this!"

♬ ♬ ♬

The next time they board, they secure the #2 trend fifteen minutes into their program.

Baekhyun's the one manning the other side of the booth this time, but Chanyeol's the one checking the monitor and signaling at them – a thumbs-up if their voices are coming out fine as sound waves, drawing a vertical line from bottom to top when he's asking either of them to make their voices louder. One hand flat on the glass if they're running out of time for a particular segment, or Chanyeol gesturing as if he's transferring a tissue roll to his hand when he needs them to stall time.

10 more mins we need a gimmick, Jongin scribbles on a paper, then slides it in Joonmyun's direction. Joonmyun glances at it from a corner of his eye but remains facing forward speaking into the microphone. short talk on our lives or something??? idk hyung i'm out of ideas

"I've been seeing some of our listeners ask if they can talk to DJ Kai on the phone. You guys want that, right?" Joonmyun says, then tilts his head to the side as he glances at Jongin. There's a shit-eating grin on his face and shit, Jongin never thought it would be possible for him to get the urge to punch Joonmyun in the face. And then kiss it soon after. Mindful of the cameras, he laughs and shakes his head in an attempt to mask the panic in his eyes. "I think my partner has a lot of fans. I won't be surprised if 'DJ Kai' starts trending in a few minutes. What do you say? Can you guys make that happen?"

Jongin widens his eyes at Joonmyun as if saying, Hyung, you can't do this to me! He keeps the smile on his lips, though, plasters it to the corners of his mouth. "If they make it happen, we'll prepare something special for them during our last show. How does that sound?"

Awesome! comes a clip that Baekhyun plays on the other side. He raises a thumbs-up but gives Jongin a sharp look. Jongin gulps hard, then leans closer to the microphone as he says, "Exactly that. So if you guys make it happen, we promise to do something special on our last day here. Deal?"

Joonmyun narrows his eyes at him and Jongin sticks out his tongue. This is a game, a test to see who will give up and give in sooner. And it's unfair because Joonmyun has had more experience with this, dealing with public scrutiny and shrugging certain issues off. Between the two of them, it's Jongin who's bound to lose, Jongin who's bound to lose his mind and give in to the allure of Joonmyun jutting out his bottom lip.

He can trap Joonmyun's lips between his teeth and give it a lazy tug, kiss the living daylights out of Joonmyun, but he doesn't. He doesn't even know what the kiss on the tip of the nose means. What if Joonmyun was just... feeling like it? Feeling generous with touches and kisses and giving something more? His mind is spiraling out of control again, thoughts heading off to several different directions, but Joonmyun pulls him back to this moment, pins him in place, reminds him that they're hosting a show when he presses his palm, warm and heavy, on Jongin's thigh.

And then Joonmyun's snaking his hand up, settling on the groove between the press of his thighs. Joonmyun is tickling his inner thigh through the material of his pants. Jongin gulps hard. On the other side of the booth, Baekhyun bites the inside of his cheek for some weird reason. It takes every inch of control to not yelp or to buck his hips forward, or grind against Joonmyun's hand. Takes every inch of control to keep the smile on his lips from faltering when he leans closer to the microphone to answer one of the callers' questions, saying, "Let me make it clear – I am single and ready to mingle, but you'll have to duke it out with acads when it comes to my attention."

Joonmyun gives Jongin's inner thigh one last pinch before retracting his hand and placing it back on the desk, drumming his fingers. "It'll be a tough battle," Joonmyun comments. "But I'm sure it's worth a shot."

And you would know? Jongin's almost tempted to ask, but he manages to bite his tongue and hold back. He glances at his computer screen and refreshes the Twitter page. He lets out a loud exhale when he spots 'DJ Kai' at #9 in the top trends. "Okay, you guys really want something special, huh?" he says into the microphone. He gestures for Joonmyun to come closer and clenches his free hand when Joonmyun slides a warm hand up his thigh again. If there are hidden cameras in the room then they are so dead.

If Baekhyun can see this, well then– Jongin doesn't know. He doesn't even know what Joonmyun and Baekhyun have, if there's anything at all. For all he knows, they really are just friends who love touching each other. But he knows the difference between a gasp and a gulp and a hitch of a breath, knows what a lingering stare on the lips means. He also know what this – Joonmyun's hand on his thigh, thumb rubbing dizzying circles on his pants – means; he's not sure if Joonmyun knows what it means to him, that's all.

"Number nine, Kai," Joonmyun whispers, then tilts his head to look at Jongin in the eye. "Looks like we'll have to prepare something special for our fans on Thursday."

Joonmyun leans closer, probably meaning to check the trends, but all Joonmyun manages to do is to brush his lips on Jongin's cheek. "We'll think of something we're sure you'll enjoy on our next program," Jongin manages to say, albeit with a few hiccups. His voice cracks at 'something' and lilts somewhere along the way, as well. Concentrating on work is beginning to get increasingly harder with Joonmyun too close, with Joonmyun's fingers tapping a rhythm on his thigh. It's becoming harder to breathe with Joonmyun's chest pressed to his side, Joonmyun's heartbeat thumping against Jongin's arm.

Come on, hyung, don't tell me you're not feeling it, too, he wants to cry out, wants to grab Joonmyun by the shoulders and shake him. Wants to cup Joonmyun's face with his palms and ask him, really ask him while looking at him straight in the eye–

"What do you think about singing on air, hyung?" Jongin asks once they go off-air.

Joonmyun leans back into his seat and cocks an eyebrow at him, one corner of his lips quirked up like he's in a state of disbelief. He purses his lips, then, and Jongin leans closer, trying to study Joonmyun's features better. There are certain things he doesn't know about Joonmyun yet, things that he can't see through the thin veil of defense Joonmyun cloaks himself with. And he understands that. They may be closer than most people are but that doesn't mean they know each other inside and out.

Jongin laughs to himself. Proximity doesn't always mean being able to see things clearly. Sometimes it's distance that allows people to see more clearly than before.

"I'm okay with it, I guess," Joonmyun replies. Keeps his lips pressed thinly together after that, the 'but' still dangling off a corner of his mouth. He remains silent when they leave the booth, making way for the last DJs of the night. He remains silent even now that they're back in the main room and Joonmyun's sitting behind his desk again, with the width of the table keeping them apart. He remains silent, and then hums after taking a deep, shaky breath, then resurfaces with a small smile. The corners of his eyes are crinkled.

Jongin furrows his eyebrows and reaches out to squeeze Joonmyun's hand on his desk, but Joonmyun shakes his head. "Only if you sing with me," Joonmyun says after a while. "Only then will I do it on air."

Jongin shrugs, laughs a little. He isn't a shabby singer. Joonmyun sounds great. Together, they can make good music. Maybe then Jongin will be able to convince himself that he has a future in singing and making music instead of just playing it on air for people like him.

"Deal?" Jongin says, sticking out his pinky in Joonmyun's direction.

Joonmyun nods, firm and resolute, and links his pinky with Jongin's own. Joonmyun's fingers are cold.

"Deal."

♬ ♬ ♬

The shock of the century isn't discovering that, even an hour after, 'DJ Kai' is still trending. It's finding Joonmyun in the club room the following day, too early for his boarding shift and rehearsing the song he has to sing.

The song is familiar enough that Jongin finds it easy to sing along a few seconds into the music. It's a Mandy Moore track, one of Jongin's favorite songs to belt out to when he goes out with friends for noraebang. Joonmyun has a bit of difficulty with the low parts so Jongin takes those lines, sings them to the best of his ability. He starts out faint at first, careful not to startle Joonmyun, but Joonmyun's body gives a tiny jerk, anyway. He looks over his shoulder, then, and around, raised eyebrows easing back down upon recognition. He keeps the music playing in the background, faint enough that it doesn't overwhelm their voices but not so faint that Jongin can hear the white noise seeping through. It's a volume pleasing to the ears, and Joonmyun's tone is distinct enough that it sticks to Jongin's mind only seconds after he hears it for the first time.

"Nice pick, hyung," Jongin says in the short part where the female verse transitions to the male verse. He licks his lips then sings, then, because he promised to and Jongin isn't the type to just throw promises out of the window. He catches the gentle bob of Joonmyun's Adam's apple in his throat when Jongin tries to drawl the last part of his verse. Zeroes in on that and tells himself, It's okay, Jongin, you did great. You didn't make a fool of yourself in front of your Joonmyun-hyung–

The second chorus comes in, then, and Joonmyun shakes his head. There's still a hint of laughter bubbling on his lips when he starts to sing his part in the chorus. Jongin feels his lips quiver – did he shake? Did he stumble? Did his voice crack at an important part? He's not used to dissecting his own voice. All he knows is that he hasn't done karaoke in months and that the only training he's had recently is singing in the showers. He needs practice. And he needs Joonmyun to sing with him in order to pull off this number.

"You… sing," Joonmyun mutters when the song hits the bridge. It's Jongin's favorite part, especially towards the end of this particular verse where both Mandy and her partner say, why aren't you with me tonight? So he sings-whispers that part to Joonmyun, leaning closer until he has Joonmyun trapped against his own desk. "You… actually sing, Jongin."

Jongin laughs a little. The final chorus comes in. Maybe he'll have to skip the 'yeah, yeah, yeah' part that he loves jamming to during noraebang. It's hard to sing with the distraction of Joonmyun licking his lips.

"I try," he croaks.

"No, I mean–" Joonmyun reaches up, runs two fingers down Jongin's throat. Jongin tries to feign nonchalance but fails at it, ends up widening his eyes as Joonmyun taps a steady one-one, two rhythm on the base of his throat. This isn't supposed to be worse than Joonmyun running his hand up and down Jongin's thighs, but somehow it feels more intimate. Joonmyun rests a hand on the jut of Jongin's hips and slips one leg between Jongin's. The press of his knee on the inside of Jongin's thigh is torture, traitorous, tempting. It makes Jongin want to forget the fact that they're in sacred school grounds and that one move, just one wrong move, can ruin his academic life forever. And Jongin tries to remind himself that Joonmyun's just trying to get closer, that Joonmyun has never thought of proximity as a problem.

But there's nothing wrong with a bit of happiness, isn't it? There's nothing wrong with swallowing against the warm press of Joonmyun's fingers on his throat, nothing wrong with placing a hand on Joonmyun's shoulder. There's nothing wrong with wanting to lean in for a kiss even if he knows that Joonmyun could be thinking of kissing someone else in a different fantasy.

Focus, Jongin, says a voice at the back of his mind. He lets his gaze travel to the bow of Joonmyun's lips, then back up to Joonmyun's eyes. Joonmyun's gaze is soft, the smile on his lips even more so.

"You mean...?" Jongin asks.

"I mean, you sound great. That you should… keep singing," Joonmyun replies. He presses down on that spot where his fingers have lingered for too long already then draws a line down, all the way to the buckle of Jongin's belt. Jongin tries not to shiver. A sizzle of heat crawls down his abdomen, matching the pace of Joonmyun's fingers. "You shouldn't keep something like that to yourself."

Jongin laughs a little. "I dunno, hyung. The last time I went up on stage to sing, the entire batch laughed at me when I sang the wrong lyrics."

Joonmyun snorts. The press of his lips against each other is tighter than before. "I know how that feels."

Jongin takes a leap of faith, pinches Joonmyun in his stomach. Joonmyun doesn't laugh, nor does he giggle. "You sound great, though."

"Not for some people, Jongin," Joonmyun replies. Joonmyun sits up straight, then, hands dropping to his sides. The sudden loss of warmth has a whimper threatening to spill from Jongin's lips but he manages to hold back, manages to swallow it down. "Maybe for you, I do, but for some people–"

Jongin doesn't want to prod, doesn't mean to prod, but Joonmyun broached the topic first. Joonmyun started singing and memories just started pouring from the back of Jongin's mind. Practicing control and focus? Jongin's bad at that. He just tries hard. And right now the only thing he can focus on is the tight press of Joonmyun's lips. "For… some people? What do you mean, hyung?"

Joonmyun takes a deep breath, then shakes his head. Three counts, and then he's smiling again like a recalibrated robot. It's disconcerting. "So, do you want to run through the song once before we start going live?"

He contemplates on not letting the topic go, but the corners of Joonmyun's mouth are quivering. He lets out a loud exhale, then nods. He gives Joonmyun his best smile. It takes him longer than five seconds to wipe out the worry from his mind. He isn't as good as Joonmyun in that department. "Sure."

They don't go on air until three in the afternoon, though, after Soojung and Sunyoung's program that Chanyeol directs. He gives the girls a pat on the back, then a bone-crushing hug when Sunyoung leans her head on Chanyeol's shoulder. Soojung doesn't say anything, but the light flush of her cheeks says more than enough. Jongin laughs at a corner, then, as he marvels at the sight, imprinting the image of Soojung's moment of surrender in his mind. He can taunt Soojung with it next time, tease her when she doesn't want to accompany him to study in the library. So Chanyeol-hyung's the key, huh? he'd say, and he's sure Soojung will agree to tagging along. After offering to buy her lunch or dinner, of course. That's mandatory.

"Ready?" Joonmyun asks beside him, a warm palm steady on the small of his back. Jongin nods without hesitation and allows Joonmyun to pull him inside. He doesn't even try to put up a fight.

It's a fairly normal program after that. They take more calls than the usual, and people start requesting for Jongin to deliver certain lines from dramas or movies. They ask Joonmyun and Jongin to act out a scene in Harry Potter, the practice battle between Draco and Harry, and Joonmyun has to deliver a couple of impromptu lines while waiting for Jongin to stop laughing at Joonmyun's Draco impersonation. Joonmyun's really good at voice acting, though, Jongin muses as they move to a different scene, the one where Snape dies and tells Harry to look into his eyes. Joonmyun enunciates words clearly, delivers his lines with all these emotions that are just so moving, but there's no denying that the facial expressions take away drama from the entire scene. At one point, Jongin has to bite the back of his hand to keep himself from cackling. Joonmyun kicks him under the table in response.

"The 'always' line always gets me," Jongin comments. He takes a deep breath then looks up at Joonmyun, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep himself from laughing. "It's so heartfelt–"

His voice cracks somewhere along the way, until Joonmyun hits him hard on the arm. On the other side of the booth, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll their eyes at them but play some comical sound effects of cartoon characters getting into a fight, anyway. Trust Chanyeol to be quick with these things.

Trust Joonmyun to elicit the wildest laughter from Jongin, as well. And trust Jongin to earn himself forgiveness in a soft mumble of please, hyung?, Jongin's fingers slipping between Joonmyun's own under the table.

It isn't a surprise anymore that #SountrackOfMyLife gets into the top trends again, starting at number five in the list thirty minutes into the program, then steadily climbing to the top spot as the show progresses. It's a great morale booster, fuels Jongin just enough to get through some awkward segments in the show and weird questions that some listeners ask. Are you looking for a girlfriend right now? If not, how about a boyfriend? How do you feel about one-night stands, oppa? Oppa, I heard you play Pokemon. Do you want to catch me with your master ball? All sorts of weird things. At one point, Joonmyun began to screen some of them, reading only the wholesome and safe ones on air.

"Our DJ Kai is a hit among sophomores, I see," Joonmyun teases. He turns to Jongin with a big grin, one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and elicits a giggle from him. "I wonder how many boxes of Pepero Kai will get on Pepero day…"

Don't give them ideas! Jongin wants to say, but instead he only widens his eyes at Joonmyun and stretches at the corners of his lips with an even wider grin. It stings just a little, but not so much to make Jongin's lips quiver. "Ah, I'm sure you'll be getting a lot of those, too, on Pepero day, $uho," he replies, then. He inches closer, knees bumping into Joonmyun thigh. Joonmyun doesn't jerk away. "What do you think?"

"I think–" Joonmyun's just about to run a lick along his bottom lip when Chanyeol holds up his hand and Kyungsoo raises a sign that says 10 mins to go, you two still have a song to perform. Joonmyun faces front, then, tears his eyes away from Jongin and speaks into the microphone. "I think it's time that Kai and I got ready for our special performance."

Nice save, Jongin mouths. To the listeners, he says, "We've prepared really hard for this. Didn't sleep, even, just to make sure that we can give you our best performance!" Joonmyun laughs beside him, the sound trapped in the tiny cup of his hand over his mouth. "We hope you like it!"

Joonmyun flashes two thumbs up at the camera and gestures at Kyungsoo to load the next song on the queue – The Fray's Love Don't Die, if Jongin remembers correctly – while clenching and unclenching his fists. Jongin waits for Joonmyun's signal, if he'll be the one delivering the sign off or if he'll defer it to Jongin, but Joonmyun stays still in his seat as the opening notes of Love Don't Die fade into their background music. Jongin parts his lips, poised to speak, but Joonmyun recovers and clears his throat.

Looking up at the camera, he says, "Now here's The Fray's most recent release, something to tide The Fray fans through the storm and until they release their new album on the last quarter of the year. To the fans who have lost patience and faith in their return, this is what The Fray has to say – a thousand years go by, but–

He points at Jongin. Not missing a beat, Jongin says into the microphone, "–love don't die. This is The Fray's Love Don't Die and you are listening to K-ARTS FM, the only station in Seoul that knows the way to your heart… and to your soul."

The music grows louder, and they take this as a sign to get to preparing. Joonmyun gestures at Chanyeol to load the track, while Kyungsoo moves to the other side of the booth and hands them lyrics sheets. "Make sure to enunciate these parts well. No garbled words, unlike Mandy and the guy," he says, scoring through some key words of the song. Trust Kyungsoo to be meticulous with enunciation. Joonmyun nods, taking in Kyungsoo's feedback, and Jongin does the same when Kyungsoo tells him to make sure he doesn't stumble on his words, "Don't rush. Also, feel the song. I heard the rehearsal earlier and you're getting there." Kyungsoo gives both of them a pinch on the arm. "Just a little more push."

"More like a shove," comes Chanyeol's voice through the speaker system. Kyungsoo probably means to stick up his middle finger in Chanyeol's direction, but remembers that they're on air. He narrows his eyes at Chanyeol, instead, and Chanyeol blows him a kiss. Kyungsoo grimaces. It's warranted, Jongin things. Beside him, Joonmyun chuckles.

Love Don't Die's last few notes blares through the speakers and then it's gone, replaced instead by an upbeat instrumental track that Jongin recognizes is from the soundtrack of the Pokemon TV animation. The light music eases Joonmyun's nerves considerably, the tight corners of his mouth softening into an easy smile as he introduces themselves again. "So that was the latest song from The Fray, Love Don't Die. If you're losing hope or faith, just remember those three words. Also, remember Dumbledore's secret magic – love."

"Love conquers all," Jongin adds, letting out a loud exhale. He makes it sound a bit wistful on purpose. Joonmyun only laughs a little in response then nods in his direction, as if saying, This is your answer to the dare and you just dragged me into it. The least you could do is to deliver our intro. Jongin meets Joonmyun's gaze, then, steady as ever, and cocks an eyebrow in a question, saying, Ready?

The bigger smile on Joonmyun's lips can mean two things – one, he is feeling confident about this performance and that yes, he's ready; and two, he just wants to get this done and over with so let's just do this even if I'm not ready. Jongin decides on the former, then moves closer to his microphone. "So two days ago, on the second day of our program, I promised our listeners that we'll prepare a special treat if you guys make 'DJ Kai' trend within the last ten minutes of the show. And well, you guys did it. Within five minutes of posting that challenge, even."

Chanyeol plays a clip of people cheering, coupled with the sound of applause. If there's anyone who should go into sound mixing in the professional scene, it should be Chanyeol, Jongin thinks.

"So! Two things," Jongin continues. He clears his throat. "First, thank you–" Cheers again, and clapping from just beside him. He turns to Joonmyun with a cocked eyebrow and Joonmyun mimics the action as if asking, What are you gonna do now, huh? Will you really do that on air? "–for the support and for making us trend on all three days that our show aired. It means a lot to us." More applause that Jongin is sure won't end anytime soon. It tickles his heart.

"And second, we'd like to thank you for giving us the opportunity to perform this song on air. It's one of my favorites," Jongin adds. Beside him, Joonmyun takes in a shaky breath. "DJ $uho will lead the performance so please, please, please give him a round of applause! He's amazing."

Chanyeol keeps the applause clip playing in the background and raises his own hands in approval. Joonmyun moves closer to his own microphone, then, and says, "And please do support DJ Kai here. He will be releasing a digital single as soon as we sign off–"

"Hyung!" Jongin widens his eyes, hoping that Joonmyun will get the next few lines he can't say on air. You can't just tell them something like that just because you know I won't hate you for it because you know that I–

"So, Kai, shall we?" comes Joonmyun's soft voice, lips quivering as he smiles.

Jongin takes a deep breath and squeezes his fisted hands tight until he feels his nails digging into his skin. "Okay. Let's do this."

The first few notes of Someday, We'll Know come in, and already Joonmyun finds himself laughing. He manages to regain composure after the second set of introductory notes, though, just in time for Mandy Moore's lines to come in. He starts out soft, faint, like he isn't even sure of what he's doing and that he's asking, again and again, why am I even doing this? The last word of the verse rolls off his tongue nicely, though, velvety and rich, that Jongin almost misses his cue if not for Joonmyun kicking his leg under the table.

Jongin moves closer to the mic, enunciating the words in his lines to the best of his ability, opening his mouth as wide as he can so that the won't be mumbling his words. He remembers that tip from Kyungsoo, remembers the dull ache of Kyungsoo's elbow in his side as Kyungsoo reiterated for what seemed like the third time within the past ten minutes, don't eat your words.

By the time they hit the chorus, Jongin feels the tension in his shoulders lift. He's swaying to the music now and Joonmyun looks as if he's enjoying, too, but there's still a bit of apprehension in Joonmyun's movements, in the way he bobs his head only slightly like he's afraid that it will come off if he moves it like he normally would. On a normal broadcast, Joonmyun would be drumming his fingers on the table or tapping them to the melody of the song playing in the background, but today his fingers are frozen mid-clench, and his breathing is shallow. It almost makes Jongin choke on a like, almost makes him go sharp. He manages to salvage it when he tears his gaze from Joonmyun and tells himself to focus, if not for Joonmyun-hyung then at least for the program–

They're at the second chorus now, on their way to the bridge where the most crucial part of the song is. In a moment of spontaneity, he locks his ankle on Joonmyun's own under the table, using the very few seconds in the song where they don't have to sing to look at Joonmyun and mouth, you're doing great, hyung!

Joonmyun's response is a tight-lipped smile. He parts his lips only when his cue comes, Mandy Moore's line spilling from his lips in a manner so fluid that Jongin doesn't even realize that he's supposed to be singing already. He tries to catch up, filling the second vocals of the song, and come the line where their voices meet and Jongin hits a particularly high note, he feels his throat drying up, tensing, clenching around nothing in particular.

Joonmyun closes his eyes and lets his voice soar high above Jongin's shaky tone and carries them through the last chorus. His cheeks tug up as he sings louder, brighter, each word tumbling from his lips more clearly than before. And Jongin does his best to catch up, keeping Joonmyun close through the link of their ankles under the table. He relishes the warm press of their bodies, the laughter he hears in Joonmyun's voice, and the smile that surfaces on Joonmyun's lips as the song ends.

He lets out a loud exhale, breathless, and gulps hard. The lighting in the room isn't supposed to be flattering, but damn the yellow light casts a warm glow on Joonmyun that softens the lines of tension on his forehead, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the hard mold of his lips. The corners stretch into a grin that lights up the rest of his features, and his shoulders finally fall forward in his last huff. Jongin doesn't want to ruin this moment, not for Joonmyun, so he asks Chanyeol to loop the track, keeping the volume low. And Joonmyun just remains in his seat, closing his eyes as he leans back into it and lets the music fill his ears.

"And that was Someday, We'll Know, one of Mandy Moore's greatest hits from the film A Walk to Remember," Jongin says into the microphone. He tugs at Joonmyun's ankles; Joonmyun lets out a loud exhale in acknowledgement, then sits up again. He nods in Jongin's direction as if saying, Go on, you know what to do. You're a big kid now. "You heard that rendition first on K-ARTS FM. Once again, we'd like to thank everyone for tuning in the whole week and for making all these top trends possible. We hope to see you again next year!"

Joonmyun reaches for the microphone with one hand and says, "This has been DJ $uho–"

Jongin meets Joonmyun's gaze head on and says right back, "–and this has been DJ Kai–"

"And it has been an honor to bring to you the best music from the 50's all the way to the present time. Thank you for tuning in to K-ARTS FM, the only station that knows the way to your heart–"

Jongin laughs a little. That will never get old. "–and to your soul. DJs $uho and Kai, out!"

A light buzzing sound, and then they're off-air. The applause on the other side of the booth is loud, thundering, maybe even alarming. Jongin hasn't heard clapping this loud before, but maybe that's because they're in a sound booth and every sound here, everything that isn't noise, gets magnified threefold. Maybe that's why his pulse sounds so crisp and clear in his system, or that could be why Joonmyun's heavy breathing rings brightly in his ears despite the distance between them.

"We did it," Joonmyun whispers. He looks dazed, like he's in a state of bliss. This must be fatigue and the high of having just ended a great radio show talking. His cheeks are a light shade of pink and he looks beautiful wearing this look, this skin of contentment. "I can't believe we sang on air and everyone liked it and–"

One beat, two beats, and Joonmyun takes a deep breath. Jongin stays rooted in his spot as Joonmyun turns to face him, and suddenly he feels like he has to do something, say something. An explanation of sorts as to why he chose a song number as their activity, or maybe ask Joonmyun for an explanation behind the song pick. He can't figure it right now. There are so many words running around in his mind at the moment, so many things that he's been suppressing himself from saying. There are so many words that Joonmyun can so easily coax out of him when they're on air and then push to the very back of his throat once the red light goes out.

"I'm sorry," Jongin mumbles. He sees Chanyeol motioning to knock on the glass window, but instead Chanyeol just waves at them and mouths, Samgyupsal, yeah? We have to celebrate!

Not yet, Jongin thinks. He raises a thumbs-up in Chanyeol's direction, anyway, at the same time that Joonmyun nods at Chanyeol. Kyungsoo is last to leave the booth, closing the door behind him with a soft 'click'.

Jongin gulps hard and says, one more time, in case Joonmyun hadn't heard him the first time around, "I'm sorry, hyung. I'm… sorry for forcing this on you."

Joonmyun chuckles, eyebrows furrowed just a little. Jongin catches a scratch in Joonmyun's speech somewhere along the way. The sound booth works wonders on voices, makes them sound more raw sometimes. Unpolished. Real.

"What do you mean?" Joonmyun asks. "The number went well and you were really into it and–"

"You said before, a few weeks back, that you used to sing. You said that and nothing else." Jongin drops his gaze to his hands, then scratches one nail on his jeans. "I asked why and you looked like you… didn't want to talk about it. So I guess you must have had a really bad experience with it? I dunno…"

Jongin worries his bottom lip. He's usually better with apologies and the like, forming coherent sentences in his mind, but Joonmyun has this ability to flush all sense and logic out of him or convince him to throw both out of the window. Convince him to move closer like this – wheeling his seat forward until he can slip his thighs between Joonmyun's own. The friction shoots sparks to the tips of his fingers, runs shivers down his spine, sends his stomach tumbling again. It feels like going back to square one and meeting his idol for the very first time, except it's different. He hadn't cared about Joonmyun's health back then, hadn't thought of running his hands through Joonmyun's hair to make him look less worn out and more alive. He didn't care about Joonmyun then, period, beyond the DJing stint. And now he does, maybe more than he'd expected.

He cares about Joonmyun enough that he'd caught that weird lilt in Joonmyun's voice earlier, a small slip, and the look of horror in his features just before he recovered to deliver his next lines.

Joonmyun shrugs, though, like it doesn't mean a thing. Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe Jongin is just reading too much into every damn thing that he's blowing things out of proportion again. Setting himself up for something akin to a heartache but not quite, but something painful just the same.

"It's okay," Joonmyun replies. He reaches out, warm palm pressing down on the back of Jongin's hand on his thigh. "It's all in the past. What's important is that it's done and that we did our best. We kept our promise." Joonmyun takes a deep breath then pulls away, straightening up and easing the creases on his shirt. "That's what's important."

There isn't much to do on this side of the room but Jongin looks for something that will keep them anchored here. He doesn't want to leave yet. He can't leave yet, not with all these unfinished statements dangling off the corners of Joonmyun's mouth, the tip of Joonmyun's tongue, waiting for a clumsy enunciation. He can't just let Joonmyun walk away from this again like he has, so many times already, and just brush it off. On the off chance that Jongin fucks things up by imposing himself on Joonmyun again, what will he do to make it up to Joonmyun? Joonmyun won't always understand. There's got to be a limit to this.

But Joonmyun's already halfway out the door, not even looking over his shoulder to check if Jongin has gotten back on his feet. "Come on, they're waiting," he says, and takes a few more steps forward.

Jongin takes a deep breath and stands from his seat, following Joonmyun. When the door closes behind him, he lunges and grabs Joonmyun by the wrist.

It's dark here in the narrow corridor, the passageway from the booth to the main club room. The only lights that are on are the ones on both ends of the corridor; all other parts of the long path are clothed in shadows, not even dim. There's no way of telling whether Joonmyun is looking at him in the eye or not but he says it anyway, asks Joonmyun to, "Please, hyung, look at me. Tell me why you didn't want to sing at first. Tell me why it's such a big deal for you because–"

Joonmyun scoffs. Jongin bites on his lower lip, hard enough to bruise. He can feel the tang of blood on his tongue, slithering up the the back of his throat. It's not a nice taste.

"Why does it matter?" Joonmyun asks.

"Because–" Jongin bites the inside of his cheek. Times like these, he wishes he had a song to play that could best capture his emotions. Or maybe just an instrumental – that would will be able to communicate the feeling. But this – Jongin doesn't know how to explain it. All he knows is that it bothers him and the vacant expression on Joonmyun's features earlier scared him shitless.

"Because it bothers you," Jongin replies. He licks his bottom lip, then, seething when he feels a sharp pang of pain. He shakes it off. "And nothing ever seems to bother you. You're… you're this cool, calm, and collected hyung that everyone looks up to. The only time I saw you so lost was when you were rushing to get your paper done and… And I guess that's normal? Because thesis is a monster that eats you up from the inside then out? Because–"

"I did it because I couldn't say no. I sang with you because I can't say no to you," Joonmyun answers. It's difficult to see with the darkness growing thicker and the air around them hot and sticky with unspoken words. He can feel the shift of Joonmyun's muscles, though, can hear Joonmyun shifting in his position, can feel Joonmyun's hands on his chest. "You looked so lost at first, when we met, and I guess I have a thing for saving people," he continues, laughing as he ends. It doesn't sound biter – it sounds helpless, like he doesn't know any other way to phrase it. Joonmyun, the master of words and control over them, cannot even string an explanation together with the darkness crowding in on them. "And then when you were singing, earlier, you looked happy and I–"

He feels Joonmyun ball his hand into fists in his shirt, feels the sharp tug Joonmyun gives him. "I couldn't say no to you, Jongin. I don't know why, but I just can't."

Jongin takes a deep, shaky breath. He counts to ten, and then to zero, and then ten again. Joonmyun pushes him against the wall and he winces when he feels Joonmyun's knuckles digging into his skin. It doesn't sting, but there's a dull ache in his muscles, a constant reminder of Joonmyun being pressed so close to him. He can feel Joonmyun's thundering pulse on his chest and shit, his throat constricts and tightens and goes dry. And he wants to say something. He needs to say something because that's what people do, right, when they ask for an explanation and they're given one? Say that they're accepting it or that they think it's bullshit? Say how they feel about it through real words and not just actions? He owes Joonmyun that, but even Joonmyun is shit at words right now.

And Joonmyun's his idol. So what's a fan supposed to do when his idol goes weak? What can he do now? He's helpless.

"I don't know what to do with you," Joonmyun whispers, breath hot and tickling on Jongin's lower lip. The heat catches on the bruised area and Jongin feels a jolt of electricity course through his body. "I thought I just wanted to help but I just ended up like a mess and now you're the one helping me and–"

"Hyung," is the only thing Jongin manages to say, then he's snaking his hands around Joonmyun's waist. And then he's pulling Joonmyun closer, the fit of their bodies hot and awkward in the narrow corridor. He can feel Joonmyun's soft lips on his chin, the wet press of Joonmyun's skin on his own as Joonmyun sucks on the underside of his jaw. He can hear his own pulse beating so loudly in his ears and it's deafening, far more deafening than Joonmyun's heavy breathing against his chest. He balls his hands into fists because he doesn't know what to do and it's frustrating – he's always known how to deal with any situation thrown at him, but not this. Not Joonmyun. He's never been able to properly deal with Joonmyun.

And then Joonmyun's tiptoeing, leaning even closer, pressing his lips on Jongin's own.

Jongin sucks in breath through the narrow opening of his lips but he only succeeds in pulling Joonmyun closer. He parts his lips a little, then gives Joonmyun's top lip gentle nips until Joonmyun's opening up, the tight press of his lips coming off as Jongin slicks along his bottom lip. It's so messy, the inelegant slide of their mouths, but Joonmyun sucks on the strained corners of his mouth, on his tongue, licks a stripe along the cavern of his mouth and everything feels so right. He snakes his hands up Joonmyun's back, grabbing a fistful of Joonmyun's hair, and he swallows the tiny gasp that escapes Joonmyun's lips as he sucks on Joonmyun's bottom lip and kisses deeper, wilder. He can feel Joonmyun's fists tightening in his shirt and he his heart is beating so fast that he fears it might jump out of his chest, but Joonmyun makes him forget all those in the warm, open press of his mouth, the gentle nips on Jongin's lips, its corners, the butterfly kisses along his jaw.

Three knocks on the door and a faint hey, you two, we're getting hungry! jolt them right back to reality. Joonmyun takes a step back, pulling away. Jongin tries to chase a taste of Joonmyun mouth for the last time, but Joonmyun rests his hands on Jongin's chest and whispers, "They're waiting for us." Jongin wants to say that he doesn't care, that this is all that matters at the moment but they made a promise. They made a promise to join the others for dinner and celebrate the success of their tiny broadcast, of all the top trends that they managed to get during the week-long broadcasting activity.

"Right," Jongin whispers, but leans in for one last kiss on Joonmyun's cheek. "We should… we should get going."

He hears Joonmyun's sharp intake of breath, feels Joonmyun's cold fingers wrapping around his wrist and pulling him forward, closer but five spaces apart. When they step outside this corridor and out of the dark, he'll be able to see better, more clearly, and maybe make sense of things. Maybe then he'll realize what the hands on his chest keeping him from coming even closer meant earlier. But the dull ache in his jaw doesn't leave him long after they've closed the lights in the club room, or even after they've made their way out of the campus and to the barbecue place nearby. It's enough a reminder of what has happened in that corridor, in those few seconds in the dark, enough to haunt him for the rest of the night.

Soojung falls into step with him and nudges him in his side. "You okay?" she asks and he nods in response, smiling.

The stretch at the corners of his mouth stings. The taste of blood in his mouth when he bites his bottom lip a bit too hard as Baekhyun slings an arm around Joonmyun's shoulder, even more.

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