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Jongin has a habit of going to the theatre to watch a movie alone whenever he’s stressed or needs to wind down. Sometimes, curling up in bed and binge-watching something random is what he needs, but other times he likes to treat himself. Whether it’s having a fancy meal outside, alone, or watching a big-screen movie by himself.
Today, he particularly needs to de-stress after the day he’s had at college, having to coordinate a group project. He can already tell he’ll inadvertently end up being the one to worry and prod everyone else to do their share of the work. Thankfully, there is a horror movie running in the theatres, and all the reviews he’s seen agree that it’s blood-curdling.
When Jongin takes his seat in the theatre, he has every reason to believe the night will go well. He is nicely situated in a back row, so he won’t have to crane his neck. He has his favourite pumpkin spice popcorn. There’s also a very cute boy sitting next to him. He seems to have come by himself, too. Jongin keeps sneaking glances at him. Jongin came here for the movie, but now he wonders whether he can bond with the boy over their shared love for viewing horror movies alone in the theatres or something.
The lights darken, and the commercials begin playing, along with the obligatory message for viewers to keep their phones off. Jongin glances at the boy again and finds that he’ s still cute in the dark, the light from the screen roaming his face. Jongin imagines buying up all the seats for one night. They’d watch a slasher flick, and then they’d naturally progress to-
Jongin shakes his head. He should stick to imagining them making out after. Well, actually, if they took it further they’d only be making good use of having a dark theatre all to themselves.
Jongin glances at the boy again, his face burning. He blames the commercials for his own inappropriate thoughts. His mind wouldn’t have gone there if the screen had captured him immediately, but a fluffy-haired, fluffy-cheeked boy has captured him instead.
Fluffy Boy takes a sip of his drink. His lips look pretty around a straw. Fluffy Boy sets his drink down, and his lips return to a soft, triangular pout. They look pretty doing that, too. Fluffy Boy licks his lips, and with a mighty effort Jongin tears his gaze away. It’s a good thing the movie begins at that point.
In the very first scene, the main character stumbles upon a corpse in her attic, headless and charred black. Jongin feels a minor collision against his shoulder and turns to see Fluffy Boy clutching his bicep, eyes screwed shut and lovely lips trembling. Jongin’s heart does a little flip seeing his cheek squished against him.
Fluffy Boy hesitantly opens his eyes once the jarring music that accompanied the jump scare peters out. His gaze meets Jongin’s, and he flusters away with a mumbled, “Sorry.”
Jongin feels sorrier that he isn’t snuggled up against his shoulder anymore. But not for long. There are scares roughly every ten minutes, and often the ominous buildup to a scare has Fluffy Boy rattled enough that he timidly clutches the fabric of Jongin’s sleeve with his fingertips. (His fingers are beautiful, Jongin notices.) And when the jump scare shows on screen with a blasting soundscore- a snarling head with empty, bloodied sockets rolling away from the body it was severed from, for instance- Fluffy Boy hunches into Jongin’s shoulder, yelping.
The climax of the film features a particularly long scene of gore, in which the main character is sawing her own neck off with jerky, robotic movements. Fluffy Boy hides his face in Jongin’s shoulder, whimpering and pressing closer as the scene continues to get progressively bloodier. At some point, Fluffy Boy isn’t glued to Jongin’s shoulder anymore, but pressed to his chest, his delicate hands bunching the front of Jongin’s sweater.
Jongin almost unconsciously caresses Fluffy Boy’s fluffy head, petting him in an attempt to comfort. Petted, Fluffy Boy looks up at him, the lower part of his face still pressed to Jongin’s chest. His dewy eyes droop at the corners, shining with tears. Jongin pets him some more as he would a puppy, then he presses his lips to the crown of his head and murmurs into his hair, “It’s okay. It’s not real.”
He doesn’t know if Fluffy Boy can hear him over the movie, and Fluffy Boy’s hair is tickling his nostrils, but he continues trying to comfort him. He brings his arm around the boy’s waist, hugging him closer, still petting him with his other hand. The tight little fists scrunching up his sweater relax a little. Fluffy Boy’s whimpers grow softer, and he curls into Jongin’s chest. Soon he isn’t whimpering anymore, but making little noises of comfort, nestled against Jongin’s sweater.
It’s a good thing he wasn’t surfacing to see more of the movie anymore, Jongin thinks. If he did, his fear would only build again. Jongin wonders whether hearing the screams and splatters on screen isn’t bad enough, but Fluffy Boy chooses not to cover his ears, content to hold onto Jongin’s sweater with his hands as though anchoring himself. Finally the credits roll, but Jongin isn’t about to break the hug by his own initiative. When someone tries to squeeze past them to leave the theater, bumping into Fluffy Boy on the way, the latter looks up at Jongin again. His droopy eyes aren’t teary anymore.
“Uh. The movie’s over,” says Jongin, his limbs jumbling up with awkwardness when he realises he’d been holding him in his arms for most of the movie.
Fluffy Boy’s eyes, so sweetly downturned at the corners, widen in panic and he scrambles back. “S-sorry!” he yelps, bowing deeply. “I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay,” says Jongin confusedly. Fluffy Boy lifts his head with a sniffle, petal lips quivering and eyes glazing with wetness again. Then it is Jongin’s turn to panic.
“Don’t cry!” Jongin cups his face, thumbs gently skimming over his cheeks. “What’s wrong? I- should I comfort you some more?”
“I m-must’ve made you so uncomfortable,” says Fluffy Boy, his voice wobbling. “Your personal space- I r-ruined the movie for you, I’m s-sorry-”
“It’s okay, I would’ve pushed you away if I minded,” says Jongin, hurriedly petting him again with a vague idea that it would make him feel better. “You didn’t ruin the movie for me. It’s just a stupid horror movie anyway. And it’s nicer to watch it while cuddling with someone anyway,” he continues, only realising the portent of his words once they are out of his mouth.
Fluffy Boy turns shining, droopy puppy eyes on him and glubs, “R-really? You’re not just s-saying that?”
“I swear,” says Jongin, and hugs Fluffy Boy, patting his back and his head alternatingly, soothing, “It’s okay. Don’t feel bad. I didn’t mind at all.” Fluffy Boy burrows into his chest and Jongin rubs his back. They are interrupted by a theatre staff clearing her throat pointedly and telling them they have to leave the theatre now for the hall to be cleaned in preparation for the next show. Fluffy Boy springs away from Jongin, his cheeks marshmallow pink, and Jongin’s limbs do that awkward thing again where they don’t know how they are supposed to function if they aren’t busy comforting Fluffy Boy.
“We should leave,” says Jongin, reaching out and taking his hand.
“Yeah,” mumbles Fluffy Boy, looking down at their hands and then up at Jongin, who smiles reassuringly.
As they leave the theatre, they are accosted by a couple Jongin doesn’t know. A very serious looking shorter guy, and a very limby taller one. They both have very round eyes.
“Baekkie! I can’t believe you sat through the whole thing,” says the taller one loudly.
“Hey Chanyeol,” says ‘Baekkie’ sombrely, and nods to the shorter one, “Kyungsoo, I didn’t know you’d come along with him.”
“Your name is Baekkie?” says Jongin, unable to hold back a grin.
“It’s Baekhyun!” comes the reply, followed by a blush.
Jongin blinks at Baekhyun’s pink marshmallow cheeks and repeats, “Baekhyun.” Baekhyun turns pinker.
“You owe me twenty bucks,” says Kyungsoo to Chanyeol.
The latter tries to change the subject. “Hey, who’s your friend? You were supposed to watch it alone!”
“I did watch it alone!” says Baekhyun just as loudly. He has a sweet-toned, mellifluous voice even when it’s raised. “This is…” Baekhyun pauses. “What’s your name?”
“Jongin.” Grinning, he chucks Baekhyun lightly under the chin and adds, “We met today.”
“Was he shrieking throughout?” asks Chanyeol, jaw already agape in a ready-to-laugh manner. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.
“No, he wasn’t,” says Jongin. It’s not exactly a lie. Baekhyun evidently isn’t loud when he’s scared.
Chanyeol deflates. “Twenty bucks,” says Kyungsoo, palm upwards. Chanyeol reluctantly takes out his wallet.
Jongin hates that they made bets on whether Baekhyun could sit through the movie, but they’re strangers, and they’re Baekhyun’s friends, not his. So he decides not to comment on it. But he turns to Baekhyun and asks, “Why did you decide to watch this?”
Baekhyun, who’s still filling the gaps in Jongin’s fingers with his slender, pretty ones, pouts. “Chanyeol said I wouldn’t be able to get through it without wetting my pants.”
Some might call it petty pride, but it endears Jongin. “You showed him,” says Jongin.
Baekhyun tips his chin high and haughty and says, “I did.”
“You look like you’ve been crying, though,” points out Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol points and guffaws. Angry tears form in Baekhyun’s eyes again, and Jongin, even though they’re strangers to him, even though they’re Baekhyun’s friends not his, says, “You deserve better friends.”
Baekhyun’s eyes widen, a tear spilling out freely. Chanyeol says “What the fuck,” at the same time that Kyungsoo says, “Didn’t ask.”
Jongin ignores them, instead raising his and Baekhyun’s entwined hands to brush the fresh tears off Baekhyun’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Being afraid, or squeamish, isn’t something to be ashamed of. Being tough isn’t necessarily something to be proud of either.”
“What do you mean?” says Baekhyun, a wobble in his voice.
“It’s more worrisome if you don’t feel things,” says Jongin, “than if you do.”
Kyungsoo blinks his solemn eyes as though reformed, and tells Chanyeol, “He has a point.”
When Chanyeol is unresponsive, Kyungsoo nudges him. “We should apologise.”
“Uh, sorry, Baek,” says Chanyeol reluctantly, “but at least it got you a new boyfriend!”
Baekhyun splutters, yet another dusting of pink gracing his cheeks, ears and neck. Kyungsoo chimes in, “Your days as a third wheel have finally come to an end.”
“Can I be your boyfriend?” Jongin asks Baekhyun, because what Chanyeol just said reminded him to ask.
For a beat or two everything is still and nobody is speaking. The next moment, the pinkest marshmallow, Baekhyun, kisses his hot chocolate, Jongin, on his cinnamon cheek. It’s a peck light as foam, but Chanyeol whistles, and Kyungsoo shushes him.
“Do you want me to give you a ride home?” says Jongin.
“We’re his ride,” says Chanyeol.
“So they can tease me about you all the way home,” pouts Baekhyun, puffing his cheeks out.
Jongin pinches his velvety cheek. It’s so mochi, so pink and white marshmallow, so cloudy cotton candy, that Jongin follows up with a kiss on the same cheek. “I’ll give you a ride home,” says Jongin, and Baekhyun just nods speechlessly, self-conscious and giddy even though he kissed Jongin first.
They have their first date at the movies again (Baekhyun calls the horror movie show that they met at their ‘zero date’, which is frankly adorable, if you ask Jongin). They go for an action flick for their first date. The movie in question is so bad it’s good. Jongin keeps laughing at the unintentional funniness on screen and Baekhyun laughs at how Jongin’s laugh sounds. At some point they forego watching the movie in favour of making out, and it’s wonderful. There are bangs and crashes and roars and dramatic music and it’s like the soundscore to Jongin’s soaring senses and kindling emotions when Baekhyun sighs against his lips, little noises of comfort.