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It starts with Baekhyun’s Candy stage.

They are in Baekhyun’s dressing room, with Baekhyun on the phone with Junmyeon, Sehun playing some game on his phone while Chanyeol and Jongin snuggling on the tiny couch to take a selfie. It’s twenty minutes until Baekhyun emerges from beneath the stage to perform his song. This is not his solo debut, but Baekhyun is a perfectionist, and he worries a lot even when he’s a superstar. He always gets nervous before shows and concerts, but usually there would be Junmyeon to calm him down with soft voice and warm hugs or Kyungsoo telling him to drink water. Every time Baekhyun is about to launch a full-scale panic, Kyungsoo would tell him to drink some water. Magically, it always works.

But neither of them is here. That’s why Chanyeol immediately dials Junmyeon when he and Jongin open the door and find Baekhyun trying to put on a disguise so he could escape right before his stage. Ten minutes into the phone call, Baekhyun seems to have calmed down. He even laughs at what Jongin supposes is one of Junmyeon’s jokes that he collects from the 1970s.

Jongin is browsing through Instagram filters for his selfie with Chanyeol when Baekhyun hangs up and walks over to Sehun.

“Sehunnie, let me poke your cheeks.”

Sehun pauses his game and looks up. “Why?”

Baekhyun slightly bends down and almost shoves his face into Sehun’s personal space, but Sehun seems unperturbed. Baekhyun smiles his sickeningly sweet smile, the one that he uses when he’s about to ask for something disastrous, the one that he uses to bribe the managers into letting them hang out past curfew back then.

“I’ve heard cheek dimples are a sign of good luck,” Baekhyun states.

“Is it true?” Jongin turns to Chanyeol. Chanyeol blinks. “Scientifically speaking, dimples are actually a deformity on a person’s face. Culturally speaking, many believe dimples are related to luck and happiness. Another story goes that an angel falls to the mortal world for their beloved human and the dimple is a sign of the angel with broken wings. Purity and stuff.”

“Please, Sehunnie?” Baekhyun says. He runs a hand through his hair, and wow, Jongin realizes, Baekhyun must be really nervous.

Sehun stares at him for a second, then shrugs. “Buy me a cup of melon bubble tea.”

“Deal,” Baekhyun whispers. Sehun grins, then he puts down his phone and scoots closer. Baekhyun presses his pointer finger directly into Sehun’s right dimple. A serene smile appears on Baekhyun’s lips as he pokes Sehun’s plump, soft cheek.

Sehun catches Baekhyun’s thumb before it could push into his left dimple. “That would be a dinner at Wolfgang’s,” he says.

“Meanie,” Baekhyun huffs, but when he stands up and turns around, his shoulders are no longer tense. He stops in front of Jongin to ruffle his hair, and all Jongin needs is a quick look into Baekhyun’s eyes to confirm that his hyung is completely at ease.

Later on, when Baekhyun has claimed his well-deserved victory, and Jongdae has arrived to join them, Jongin leads the squad to join Baekhyun on stage for a congratulatory hug. Baekhyun avoids his extended arms and goes for Sehun instead.

“Your cheeks are a blessing,” he hears Baekhyun singsong.

*

Jongin never paid much attention to Sehun’s cheeks before. Sehun has nice skin, so touching him always feels soft, even when he has layers of make-up on. Sehun smells good too, like baby milk powder, fresh and soothing. Not that he has any chance to smell him lately. No. That sounds creepy.

Somewhere along the lines, they kinda fall apart. It’s not exactly a fall-out — they still communicate in their group chat, text each other once in a while, and hang out if they feel like doing so, often with Junmyeon or Baekhyun. But with EXO members focusing more on individual and sub-unit activities, they just don’t have the time to maintain the level of closeness they used to have before. It’s normal, because the older they become, the more priorities and responsibilities they need to tend to. It’s normal, because Sehun and Jongin are not attached at the hip. They’re friends, bandmates, and at one point, Jongin had believed Sehun was his soulmate as well. Yet the concept of soulmates seems like an overestimated myth.

“We’re done with all the recordings,” announces Chanyeol. He pours Jongin a soju shot. “You guys should be able to listen to our title track next week.”

“Yeah, we just need to go over the songs with Chanyeol hyung’s team one more time,” Sehun empties his shot in one go. “But the title track is all set. You can listen now if you want?”

Baekhyun hums. “No, I’ll listen to it on the release date.”

“Really, spoiler king?” Sehun teases. The soju is working — Jongin watches as Sehun’s plump cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink. Sehun is far from being drunk, though. His alcohol tolerance is as high as Chanyeol’s. “I was telling Chanyeol hyung that you’d spoil our song for our fans before us.”

“I’m not that bad,” Baekhyun scoffs. He elbows Jongin in the rib. “Right, Jonginnie? I barely spoiled a word about SuperM this time.”

“You taught Taemin to do it,” Jongin says.

That earns a laugh from Chanyeol. Sehun smiles too, his adorable dimples standing at attention and Jongin momentarily freezes. Looks like Sehun’s put on some weight, he’s not worrisomely thin anymore, and the extra weight makes him look healthier. Prettier. It adds to the plumpness of his cheeks. Jongin knows all of Sehun’s tricks that give the maknae an all-access pass to everything: his loud, happy, carefree laugh, his smiles, that cute eye-crinkle thing he does. The dimples business is quite...new. The dimples give Sehun an ultimate baby aura.

“Is there anything on my face?”

That’s definitely Sehun’s voice, soft and laced with a tiny hint of concern. Jongin jerks out of his trance and laughs, albeit awkwardly. “No. Nothing.”

He waits until Sehun drags a drunk Baekhyun to the restroom and pops the question. “Hyung, did you notice Sehun’s cheeks?”

Chanyeol levels him with a surprised look. “What about his cheeks?”

“They’re...different.” Chanyeol frowns. Jongin tries to find the right words. “They look more pokable now.”

“Do they? Sehunnie has been working out and eating more properly lately, maybe that’s why?” Chanyeol says. “I see him all the time, so I can’t really tell the difference.”

“Do you….” Jongin starts. He sounds like a weirdo now, but he just wants to know. And he can blame the soju shots later if things become awkward. “Do you poke his cheeks?”

Thankfully, Chanyeol doesn’t look scandalized. Being in a chaotic group like EXO has conditioned them to all the unusual things. If Baekhyun barging into their bathroom and demanding to take a shower is considered a normalcy, then nothing else could pull a reaction out of Chanyeol. “Why?” Chanyeol asks, genuinely curious. “Why would I poke his cheeks?”

“For luck?” Jongin blurts out.

Chanyeol contemplates for a moment, then he points at his own cheeks. “I don’t need to. My dimples are the best. My mom and sister would agree.”

“Right.”

“You have one too,” Chanyeol says. “Smile.”

Jongin smiles and feels Chanyeol’s long finger pressing into the curve of his small dimple. Baekhyun emerges and fixes them with a questioning look. “What are you guys doing?”

“Dimples for luck,” Chanyeol explains. “I told Jongin I’d just poke my own cheeks if I want a good luck charm before shows or any important event.”

“Idiot, it doesn’t work like that!” Baekhyun smacks Chanyeol's arm. “Poking your own cheeks is useless. You have to do it with another person’s cheeks. A prophet is without honor in his own country.”

“I charge for my cheeks service,” Sehun reminds Baekhyun.

“Candy promotion already ended, your service is no longer needed.” Baekhyun slides into his seat and narrows his eyes at a dazed Jongin. “After you guys would be Jongin’s solo debut. He’ll need that charm. I know his breakdown would be way worse than mine.”

“Stop saying that I’m a crybaby,” Jongin grumbles. He doesn’t cry easily. And he doesn’t need good luck charms. The idea of charms and magic could be misleading.

“Well, if you need, you know where to find me and what to bring,” Sehun says playfully. His cheeks, lit up by the blue of the lights in the restaurant, are glowing. Baekhyun pulls him down to whisper something into his ears. Sehun giggles, eyes sparkling and straight nose covered by his pretty, slender fingers as he tries to lower his voice.

Sometimes, Jongin wonders if Sehun has any idea just how fucking good-looking he is. Now with the addition of squishy cheeks, when he smiles, it’s probably over for many people.

*

1 Billion Views era is, coincidentally, the era of Sehun’s cheeks.

Jongin doesn’t mean to delve that deeply into this whole Twitter thing. Baekhyun told him Twitter was a tricky place. But it was also a good platform to see what fans were talking about. Baekhyun helped him to mute and block certain words so that he didn’t have to experience the newbie horror that Baekhyun once went through when he came across an uncensored drawing of him wearing a skirt with his mouth full of Chanyeol’s cock. Everyone in their group chat, except Baekhyun, had a field day when he shared the story.

But Baekhyun is an excellent learner. He sets up Jongin’s Twitter account like a burner account, so no one notices, and filters content for him. His experience there so far has been pleasant. He sees thirst tweets, but he finds them entertaining and harmless. He keeps a mental note to reach out to BuzzFeed and ask to do a Kai Reads Thirst Tweets interview after he releases his solo album.

Then EXO-SC comes back, and fanbases become more active than ever. Jongin checks out the contents when he’s online, and everyone is talking about Sehun’s cheeks, and how they would love to take a bite. They wonder how touching Sehun’s cheeks would feel, knowing that Sehun has the best skin and a heavenly natural scent. Jongin sees the screencaps of Sehun poking his own squishy cheeks with his beautiful pointer finger and smiles, dimples crinkling up near his lips. Jongin may or may not swoon; his chest jitters like when he sees cute puppy videos on Naver. Except he’s watching clips of his friend, who has a pair of fine-looking dimples and can’t stop flexing it everywhere he goes.

Jongin’s phone buzzes with a message from Moonkyu, why r u sending me a pic of mochi at 11 pm?

it’s like sehunnie’s cheeks, Jongin replies with a link to the tweet he just finds. Mochi cheeks. It sounds cute.

It feels like eternity before Moonkyu responds. Just admit you like him and save us from all the trouble.

I DON’T LIKE HIM, Jongin types back furiously, as if Moonkyu could hear him growl through a text message.

*

See, the thing with Jongin and Sehun is that it’s complicated.

The thing with “It’s complicated” is that it’s essentially purgatory for relationships. It means an odd companionship that never ends well, because of blurred boundaries, of tiny doses of revenge, of ego and damaging self-worth. Fortunately, what they have is not that extreme. But it’s confusing. Back then when they were young, when Jongin felt like he could conquer the world, he almost asked the infamous question. The words stuck in his throat when he and Sehun sat side by side on the Han River bank, eating instant ramen from a convenience store nearby, when Sehun was so exhausted after practice that he just passed out on Jongin’s bed, his thin tank top clung onto his skin, and he was so pretty with his bare face and chapped lips. Jongin may have been a little enamored.

But again, they were young, young enough to let their hearts beat freely and old enough to know the entertainment industry is not all roses. There were roads that could not be crossed, certain things that could not happen, not when they were a rookie group aiming high for unlimited success.

So Jongin never said anything. In return, Sehun never asked.

*

Amidst his preparations for his solo debut album, Jongin learns that Sehun becomes the new muse for a skincare brand, SomeByMi.

He’s not familiar with the brand — he only uses facial cleansers and moisturizer that his mother buys — but his sister is a fan, so he comes to visit Raeon and Rahee one day to find photocards of Sehun pinned to the fridge, next to Raeon’s family painting. Sehun in all his glorious naturalist ambience, dressed in a white T-shirt, staring at a bottle of toner with his mochi cheeks popping out. He looks younger than when he was nineteen. Jongin remembers how Sehun looked when he was nineteen, because that was their prime we-kinda-had-this-thing era and he’d spent an unhealthy amount of time stealing glances at Sehun. The reason Sehun looks like he just downs a fountain of youth to the last drop, Jongin realizes, is because of the cheeks. Plump, soft, temptingly squishy cheeks.

The carton of milk in his hands drops to the floor.

Rahee, sometimes, is too smart for her age. This may have something to do with Jongin’s sister reading biochemistry books and watching Discovery when she was pregnant with her. “Kaichun,” Rahee stares up at him. “That’s Sehun oppa.”

“You really shouldn’t call him oppa, sweetheart. He’s the same age as me.”

“Grandma says it’s okay because Sehun oppa looks young.”

Right. His mom. His mom, who used to pack an extra bag of homemade food for Jongin to give to Sehun. His mom, who once had a picture of Sehun and Jongin at Jongin’s graduation in her wallet and proudly showed it to whoever she befriended with at groceries stores. “What else does Grandma tell you?”

“That you two broke up,” Rahee wanders past Jongin to place the carton of milk back onto the shelf. “But she hopes one day you’d be happy again like Mom and Dad.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jongin shrinks to the floor and buries his face in his hands. Rahee just pats his shoulder with her tiny fist before walking back to the living room to watch Poporo with Raeon. Jongin needs to call his mom tonight. It’s been years, and they never got anywhere, so could she stop telling Rahee those...things? What if Sehun hears about this? It’d be so awkward, as if they aren’t awkward enough already.

“I don’t see why you think it’s a big deal,” Sehun says calmly when Jongin dials him in panic that night. “It’s not like Auntie is going around the neighborhood and telling everyone that she wants her son to get back with his pretty adorable bandmate. So just let her be.”

“I never said you were pretty and adorable!” Jongin splutters. Sehun just scoffs, and Jongin could image the way his exquisite eyebrows lift up. “So...you’re okay with that?”

“With your mom telling your niece about us, yes. With getting back together, I’d need to think it over.”

He’s clearly teasing Jongin now. Jongin feels the tension bleed out of his shoulders. He grins. “You better hurry, when the queue is still not long.”

There used to be a time when they couldn’t be around each other without breaking into meaningless fights and throwing sarcastic remarks back and forth like they were in a Frisbee game. Baekhyun and Junmyeon tried to talk them into having a civil conversation because EXO comeback was around the corner and there was no way they could do promotion activities with their maknaes looking like they wanted to tear each other apart. In the end, it was Minseok and Jongdae who got so frustrated that they lashed out unexpectedly during one dinner. Glasses broken, food untouched, and Sehun burst into tears. It was the turning point — Jongin forgot what they even argued about in the first place the moment he saw Sehun cry. He remembered yelling back at his hyungs, then dragged Sehun out of the dorms. Two cups of bubble tea later, they sorted things out, made a promise to always be honest with each other, then headed back to apologize to their hyungs.

Jongin is not good with memories. Looking back, he can’t pinpoint why exactly they were fighting. All he knows is that seeing Sehun cry is like having a hot knife searing through his heart, and he never wants to see those tears of discomfort again.

(The worst part is: He still did it.

“I thought he quitted smoking,” Jongin frowned at the half-empty pack of Marlboro under Sehun’s desk. He only came in to search for a charger. Sehun didn’t smoke anymore, saying it’d be bad for his health and his vocal cords. “Hyung, did you stop him?”

“He asked to give him one pack,” Junmyeon said. “Just one pack, and he’d get back on track. I couldn’t deny someone dealing with a heartbreak.” He added, and Kyungsoo sighed and Jongdae just gently took the cigarette pack from Jongin’s grasp and put it back to where it originally was.

Kyungsoo handed him the charger and Jongin’s phone buzzed in his back pocket and he remembered that he had a dinner date in an hour. With his girlfriend.)

*

It turns out Jongin’s sister has an extra set of Sehun photocards because she bought so many products.

Kwonho finds out when he opens Jongin’s drawer to look for a set of stationery that Jongin wants to show his fans on Instagram live. “Interesting,” he muses, looking down at the photocard of Sehun puffing out his cheeks and staring at a toner bottle. “I know you collect Legos, but this? Some limited edition set?”

“My sister put it in my bag when I didn’t notice. I called her and she told me there was no return. I had two choices: keep it or throw it out.”

“It’s cute,” Kwonho says. He moves Sehun — no, Sehun photocard — to a corner and tucks it safely between Jongin’s stash of business cards. “He’s cute. His cheeks look like peaches. Your type, right?”

“Stop,” Jongin says. “Just stop. I don’t have a type.”

“Moonkyu said you wanted to bite Sehun’s cheeks,” Kwonho says nonchalantly. “Other stuff too, but he told me not to tell you that he said it, so I’ll shut up now.”

Apparently, what Jongin needs is a group of new friends. He can feel a headache coming — he definitely doesn’t want to touch Sehun’s cheeks. He has dimples too. He’s self-sufficient.

When Kwonho leaves, Jongin takes the photocard and brings it to his bedroom. He places it in his nightstand drawer, next to a folder of housing documents. Just in case Kwonho spills things to Sungwoo and Wonshik and these two would rush to Jongin’s house for the purpose of mocking him and his nonexistent obsession with Sehun’s cheeks. Taemin probably already knows, and just waits for the perfect occasion to deliver maximum humiliation.

It’s certainly the fatigue speaking when Jongin first retweets A thread of Sehun’s soft cheeks that make me wanna nom nom them. He’s been staying up all night in the studio, then goes straight to his variety shows filming schedule and his brain runs solely on caffeine. Then someone edits a chopstick emoji right on Sehun’s cheeks. There are gifs of Sehun pouting. Jongin feels a wash of relief and something he can’t name over the surface of his skin as he scrolls down the thread. Maybe it’s magic.

“You’re down so bad,” Baekhyun comments dryly as he checks his timeline and sees the retweet.

“Don’t click like, I don’t want fans to find out my account.”

“Worry not, I don’t like him that way,” Baekhyun says. The air of nonchalance Jongin tries to maintain falters. Baekhyun knows everything. He was there when Jongin got drunk for the first time, mourning over what he called stupid highschool infatuation that would go away when he grew up. He was there when Sehun went through his Marlboro pack, smoke flying out of his mouth. He tried to figure them out, but nothing made sense. Not for him, at least.

“Help me read this over,” Jongin slides a notebook across the table. Baekhyun presses himself against Jongin’s giant teddy bear and smoothes down the page. Jongin’s handwriting scatters all over the lines, lyrics to his title song. The scent of a flower, girl, is this yours?

(“What about flowers? One hundred roses?”

Jongin shook his head. “She doesn’t like flowers. I mean, it’s not like she hates them. She thinks it’s time consuming. And she has a cat that loves to run around and break things.”

“You go grocery shopping with Kyungsoo and Chanyeol every other weekend and buy flowers every time. Those aren’t for your girlfriend?” Baekhyun gasped as a maddening thought crossed his mind. “You aren’t cheating on her with another girl, are you?”

“No, I’m not!” Jongin said, offended. “Those flowers are for decoration. Nevermind. I’ll just get her a necklace.”

Baekhyun found a bouquet of wilted hydrangeas in the trash can in Junmyeon’s room when it was his turn to take out the garbage.

Junmyeon doesn’t like hydrangeas.)

“I like Amnesia more,” Baekhyun confesses. “But I may change my opinion after I listen to the songs. But lyric-wise? Amnesia is the only answer.”

“I haven’t shown you the rest of the songs yet,” Jongin says.

“I just know Amnesia is that bitch.”

“Gosh, if I never perform Amnesia, I’ll tell the fans it’s your fault.”

*

He can’t believe it.

There are two things: First, his album is released. Second, he just bawls his eyes out on his countdown Vlive broadcast, in front of the staff and a million fans. His hands are clammy against his bouncing knees. Even though he hasn’t eaten anything since the morning, he’s so nervous he thinks he’s going to throw up.

Now, it’s past 6 PM on November 30, and his solo debut just happens. A staff member shows him his album on Melon and Spotify. The mere act of watching hurts his eyes, and his heart is still threatening to burst forth from his ribcage.

The first person he sees is Baekhyun. He’s standing outside the door, chatting up a make-up artist when he spots Jongin walking out. Before Jongin knows it, he’s pulled into the warmest hug.

“Jonginnie,” Baekhyun runs a soothing hand down his back. “You did well.”

“I cried in front of a virtual crowd of one million people,” Jongin sniffles. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s one of your charms,” Baekhyun says. He tousles Jongin’s silver hair gently. “How are you feeling now?”

“I’m okay,” Jongin inhales. It still feels surreal. A rush of tingling energy races over him. “Did manager hyung drive you here?”

“No, I came with Chanyeol.” Jongin’s heart skips a beat. It’s been a while since he met Chanyeol. After they met up at the gym for the 1 Billion Views dance, they both got busy with their own schedules. “He ran back to the coffee shop next door to get you a latte. He teared up seeing you cry earlier.”

Jongin laughs. “He’s a baby.”

“Says a baby,” Baekhyun replies.

A stylist waves at Baekhyun and his face brightens. It’s the same stylist who worked with him during Candy promotion. “Go wash your face,” Baekhyun tells Jongin. “Then meet me and Chanyeol back here? I’ll go catch up with noona.”

Jongin complies. He walks to the restroom, emotions full in his heart, his head dizzy as if there’s a hive of bees swarming and buzzing around his head. His solo album is out. Years of planning and endless months of hard work, it’s finally here. This is something he has always dreamt of, and reading those heartfelt words from his fans, who have been eagerly waiting with him all these years, pulls at his heart strings in the best way he could never imagine.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice another figure in the restroom. He turns on the tap and submerges his hands in cold water.

“Jongin,” a voice says.

Jongin has thought a lot about today. What to share with fans on Vlive. Upcoming promotion schedules starting tomorrow. His family’s reactions. His late father. Whether Raeon and Rahee would simultaneously burst into tears when their Kaichun began sobbing (it’d happened before). What Jongin doesn’t expect is Sehun standing a few steps away from him, in a white sweatshirt, long hair pushed back by his glasses, sparkling eyes fully on Jongin and all of a sudden Jongin feels self-conscious about his runny nose and swollen face.

For lack of better words, Jongin says, “Sehun?”

“It’s me,” Sehun grins.

Sehun’s supposed to be filming today. And tomorrow. And next week. He mentions it in his message to Jongin this morning, congratulating Jongin and apologizing that he couldn’t join Baekhyun, and that when his schedule is over Jongin’s album would be the first thing he listens to.

Jongin wants to ask why, but all that comes out is a watery choke. His vision blurs, tears well up in his eyes again and damn it, he hates being a crybaby. It’s only Sehun. They haven’t really had time to meet for months, and it’s a little bit weird that Jongin opens his drawer to look at the Sehun photocard before he goes to sleep, but now is not the time to get emotional.

“Hey,” Sehun closes the distance between them and Jongin finds himself pressed against Sehun’s broad chest. Sehun smells just as Jongin remembers him, subtly sweet like jasmine, cozy like fresh fabric softener. “You’re doing good.”

“You should tell me to stop crying,” Jongin retorts. “It’s not cool.”

Sehun has the audacity to laugh. “Nothing’s wrong with crying. We’re humans.”

“I cried on a live broadcast. It’s the epitome of embarrassment.”

“It’s okay,” Sehun says. “Really.”

The restroom hidden at the back of the hallway should be the last place Jongin is supposed to be right now. He wants to come online and see fan reactions, wants to read YouTube comments, wants to know if he did a good job. But Sehun keeps him there in his arms, and Jongin’s mind wanders back to many years ago, Sehun standing on his tiptoe and hugging him as he cried in front of the audience. Sehun is like an anchor, just the mere presence of him could calm the most furious storm. He often jokes it’s because wind is his superpower, but the real reason lies in his pure, kind, big-as-Pacific-Ocean heart.

“You’re doing great,” Sehun whispers. “You always do great.”

“Did you watch my Vlive?”

“Only the part where you cried,” Sehun says. “Chanyeol hyung freaked out, did you know that? He spammed our group chat and Minseok hyung thought you were dying. My phone was buzzing nonstop with all the notifications, the director had to tell me to go check it. He, too, thought someone was dying.”

“I was almost dying,” Jongin mumbles into Sehun’s shoulder. “I haven’t eaten since the morning.”

“There’s a restaurant that sells the best samgyupsal just around the corner,” Sehun says, more to Jongin’s hair than anything. “You calm down first, then we can go get Baekhyun and Chanyeol hyung.”

“I’m calm,” Jongin murmurs. He sounds unconvinced to his own ears. He has stopped crying for now, but this overwhelming sensation is still running through his body, and Jongin knows he could go off at any moment. He just wants to curl up under a blanket in a room with no light, dissolving into a puddle of whatever. “...Maybe.”

“You’re doing good,” Sehun reassures him. He sounds stable and calm and everything Jongin is not. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Uhm, it’ll go away eventually. I guess.” Jongin pulls back to look at Sehun. His eyebrows are sharp like razor edges, but his gaze is tenderly soft. So are the indents of his plump cheeks. Jongin swallows. What he’s about to say is stupid, and Sehun would laugh at him. But Jongin feels like it’s the right thing to ask. “Can you let me poke your cheeks?”

Sehun doesn’t laugh. He blinks, then nods. “Alright.”

“We can stop by Cofioca later. I’ll buy you bubble tea.”

“You don’t have to,” Sehun says. He leans forward, just slightly, and presents his cheeks to Jongin. “Consider this a gift for your debut.”

Then he smiles. Jongin slowly presses his pointer finger into Sehun’s right dimple. Sehun’s skin is soft, so soft it feels like touching a velvety leaf despite the layer of foundation he hasn’t removed since he came here straight from Pirates 2 filming site. A tingling rush of relief flows into Jongin’s veins, like there’s some sort of actual magic. The longer he continues to poke Sehun’s right cheek, the more he feels at ease.

Sehun tilts his head to the right toward the door, there is this movement, just above his cheekbones, that looks like a tear, but actually is the hallway light briefly bouncing off his skin. Jongin can breathe again.

“Feeling better?” Sehun asks.

“Yeah,” Jongin exhales. “Thank you, Sehunnie.”

“No problem,” Sehun whispers. There’s a hint of red on his cheek, where Jongin just presses his finger into. Jongin gasps. “I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s okay.” Sehun briefly turns away. They fall into silence, and then Sehun smiles at him again. “Let’s go? Before Chanyeol hyung thinks you’re having a seizure and calls for an ambulance.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Jongin laughs, and for the first time in almost 24 hours, his laugh sounds joyful and stress-free. “He’ll never do that.”

Chanyeol is, in fact, two seconds into dialing 119 when they find him. Luckily, Baekhyun spots them first and helps Chanyeol hang up before an operator responds to his call.

*

Sehun is busy with filming, Jongin is busy with album promotion activities. Their days go on as usual. Jongin is often as worn out as his favorite pair of sneakers by the time he comes home, so he doesn’t think a lot about the unexplainable healing power of poking Sehun’s mochi cheeks.

Then Baekhyun decides on weekly group dinners at their dorm. “This place looks like an abandoned house now,” he says solemnly. “We should change that. Chanyeol and I will have to enlist in half a year. We want to spend as much time with our children as we can.”

“We are not your children,” Jongin politely points out.

Baekhyun ignores him and shoves a piece of paper into his hand. “Here’s the grocery list for this week. We will eat Chinese hot pot. Since you have a schedule and cannot help with the cooking, you’re in charge of buying the ingredients.”

Jongdae brings a bottle of champagne, which doesn’t fit into this whole oriental cuisine theme, but Jongdae smiles his signature twinkling eye smile and Jongin thinks he would drink rainwater in a heartbeat if it makes Jongdae happy.

Sehun’s hair is longer. Long, luscious locks fall over his forehead, perfectly like dominos. He’s effortlessly beautiful. Jongin mentally smacks his forehead. He shouldn’t think too much about how beautiful Sehun is. He’s not eighteen anymore. Neither of them is.

But later, when they’re the only two left in the kitchen to wash the dishes, Jongin shamelessly asks if he could poke Sehun’s cheeks again. “I think doing that brings me good luck,” Jongin explains in a hurry. “And I have a music stage tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Sehun says. Jongin inhales, then steps forward until he’s close enough to count Sehun’s eyelashes. The indents of Sehun’s supple cheeks deepen when his lips stretch into a tender smile. Jongin gently presses the pads of his thumbs into Sehun’s dimples, relishing in the velvety smooth sensation. He closes his eyes and Sehun’s skin is comfortably warm under his fingers.

When Jongin opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is the glowing pink on Sehun’s cheeks. He has a sudden urge to cradle Sehun’s face in his hands, tracing over his youthful skin and getting all the luck the universe could ever give through this lovely, kindhearted, gorgeous human here. He’s lost in a daze until Sehun shakes his shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

“Excellent,” Jongin says. He surveys the indents of Sehun’s cheeks. “How about you? Am I too rough?”

Chanyeol chooses that exact moment to walk in and squawks. “Oh god, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He immediately turns on his heels. “Please ignore me. I’ll tell Baekhyun to eat popcorn later.”

Jongin frowns at what sounds like Chanyeol tripping over his legs and falling to the floor. “He’s become really dramatic huh.”

“Told you,” Sehun shrugs. He gestures to the remaining three dirty plates in the sink. “I’ll finish these. Can you go make popcorn?”

“Sure,” Jongin says. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Sehun says. “Just remember my price list. I’ll collect my payment when you’re done with promotions.”

“Brat,” Jongin says. There’s no bite to it.

*

“Jongin?” Sehun slurs, voice heavy with sleep. Which makes sense, since it’s 3 AM. “What’s going on?”

“I think I’m dying,” Jongin says. He looks at his latte-stained floor, at the mess that paints his outlet in caramel color, at the broken pieces of glasses on the counter and nothing is right. Nothing. “The force is out to get me and they will not rest until I fall.”

“Jongin, did you watch some movie again?” Sehun asks, patient. See, this is why calling Sehun is the right decision. Baekhyun would tell him to go back to sleep because everything can be solved with a good rest. Chanyeol wouldn’t even pick up the phone; he’s a heavy sleeper. “Take a breath and tell me what’s going on.”

There’s a shuffling sound on the other line. Jongin imagines Sehun getting out of bed to turn on the lights, his eyes barely open; in the background an old playlist is playing. It feels like only yesterday that Jongin was younger and reading comic books in his bunk bed while Sehun fell asleep over Mandarin homework sheets. Sehun started learning the language to communicate with the Chinese members, and he continued learning even when they left, because Sehun’s determination is made of steel. Jongin had spent days being his speaking partner, but he couldn’t remember any words now. Not even a “hello”.

“Jongin,” Sehun says again. “What’s going on?”

“I tried to make a latte and broke everything and now I have to mop the floor and I have Inkigayo stage recording in two hours,” Jongin bites on his crooked nail. “I just — can I get my good luck charm?”

“Since when I’m your good luck charm?” Sehun laughs cutely. “Yeah, just stop by my place. Ring the intercom, I’ll let you in. Do you want another latte?”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Jongin balances the phone between his head and his shoulder, and moves to grab a towel so he could wipe away the mess on the floor. “You don’t have to.”

“I’m about to say that if you want, you can make one at my place. I’m not going to do it for you, dude. It’s 3 AM.”

“Stingy,” Jongin murmurs, but he manages to clean up and get dressed in a new Guinness Record speed.

Sehun is in a navy silk PJ when he opens the door. Jongin recognizes it — it’s the unofficial EXO sleepwear uniform that Chanyeol bought for all of them so he could get the 10% discount and free shipping. His hair smells divine, a floral scent mixed with something just so Sehun, when Jongin leans closer to tuck a few strands behind his ears. It’s so easy, this closeness he has with Sehun, even when they spend months acting like strangers. They don’t bother to hang out, but whenever they do, it’s like a switch is on and everything falls back into place.

Sehun starts smiling and Jongin brings his hands down to the swell of Sehun’s cheeks, carefully pressing the pads of his thumbs into Sehun’s dimples, feeling that tingling magical wave spark through every cell in his body.

Jongin pulls back and rests his hand on the small of Sehun’s back. “Thank you, Sehunnie.”

Sehun starts turning red, like Jongin’s hands are made of fire or something. He pushes at Jongin’s chest, but it’s half-hearted.

“What?” Jongin asks.

“Nothing.”

“You’re so cute,” Jongin says on autopilot. The red stain on Sehun’s cheeks deepen, and God, he’s so pretty. He looks up at Jongin with a wide-eyed reaction. Jongin tries to hold back a laugh because this shy reaction of Sehun is still the same after all those years. Jongin likes to poke people, something his inner comedian is very good at, but it’s more satisfying when it comes to Sehun. Sehun gets flustered so quickly, wide brown eyes and flushed cheeks and all Jongin ever has to do is to open his mouth and say the truth (“You’re handsome,” “You can wear a trash bag and still look like a runway model,” “Your skin is fucking flawless,” “You smell like milk,” and on, and on.)

 “Whatever,” Sehun waves him off. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Don’t forget to watch my performance later,” Jongin winks. “It’s going to be dope.”

“Urgh, don’t say dope anymore,” Sehun grimaces. “You’re not fifteen.”

*

Sometimes, just sometimes, Jongin misses being fifteen.

He sweat salts and unshed tears in the dance studio, aiming for an opportunity given to him at the cost of his father’s dream. But he was also young and free. Everything back then was simple. Sehun was almost fifteen, too, only a few months behind Jongin, with milky skin and pink lips and eyes bright as stars.

On days that they were bound to break, they found themselves in each other’s company on the balcony of SM building. Sehun brought his iPod: one earbud for him, one for Jongin, swing, and started one of the playlists he made. Jongin commented on every song, and Sehun listened.

“This is going to be us someday,” Jongin told Sehun as they looked at DBSK billboards around Rodeo Station. A K-pop group known to be paving the way. Top of the world. A legend.

“Us,” Sehun nodded.

*

It continues.

At their weekly dinner in the dorm, Sehun would let Jongin pull him into the kitchen, the balcony, or their old rooms. He will look at Jongin with his starry brown eyes, then smile indulgently, presenting his lovely mochi cheeks for Jongin to poke.

Occasionally, they’d get more creative. Jongin would cup Sehun’s face in his hands, carefully rubbing over Sehun’s cheekbones before pressing the pads of his fingers into adorable dimples. One time they hugged. It was unexpected: Jongin was making fun of Sehun’s darkening cheeks while simultaneously cooing like he’s watching a puppy learning how to walk, so Sehun went and pushed Jongin to the floor. They kinda wrestled, and when Baekhyun poked his head into the kitchen to ask for tea, he saw Sehun fully seated in Jongin’s lap with Jongin’s veiny arms wrapped around his snatched waist.

“We’re just—”

Baekhyun cut Sehun off with a shit-eating grin. “I didn’t ask,” he exclaimed, then ran back to the living room at lightning speed. Jongin didn’t know Baekhyun could pull off an Usain Bolt moment that easily.

*

“Do I want to know?”

“It’s for good luck,” Jongin explains, leaving his pointer finger in the curve of Sehun’s left dimple. “Baekhyun started this.”

Minseok stares at him skeptically.

“Right,” Minseok says. “And now you need good luck for...what?”

The question takes Jongin by surprise. He thinks about his promotion activities, which ended a few weeks ago. He thinks about his upcoming plans, which mostly include buying Christmas gifts for his family and friends. “Uhm.”

“He has a collaboration with Gucci,” Sehun supplies helpfully.

“Yeah. That.” Jongin scratches the back of his neck. “It will come out in March.”

Minseok doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, but he drops the topic when Baekhyun asks him about his new bicycle. As Minseok launches into a TED talk about the health benefits of cycling, Jongin averts his gaze to Sehun, who looks back at him with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

*

“Jongin,” Sehun’s voice is soft and confused. “Why are you sending me a cake?”

“Because I want to,” Jongin says. He doesn’t want to tell Sehun that he had watched Sehun’s Instagram live earlier this morning, and saw those horrible, horrible comments about his weight. These people don’t even know him, yet they think hiding behind the safety of a screen gives them a pass to spit out venom like that. The darkness covered most of Sehun’s face, but Jongin has known him long enough to understand the signs — when he’s truly smiling, and when he’s not.

Sehun is not weak. He is strong, stronger than anyone Jongin’s ever met. Heck, stronger than Jongin, even. He’s been through much worse, but he doesn’t let any of the negativity taint his kindness. That’s why although Jongin is only three months older, he always feels the urge to protect Sehun.

“You really care about my cheeks, don’t you?” Sehun says. “But I’m alright. Don’t worry. I’ve planned to go on a diet anyway.”

“I care about you,” Jongin corrects. “I’m not going to stop you or tell you a diet is unnecessary, because only you know what’s good for you. Please only do what’s good for you.”

“I know,” Sehun smiles into the phone. “Thank you, Jongin-ah.”

Sehun begins his rigorous work-out regimen. He starts eating bland chicken breasts, and lifts like it’s his only purpose in life these days.

The next time EXO members gather at their dorm after New Year's Eve is to welcome Kyungsoo back. Chanyeol brings a store worth of alcohol, Baekhyun buys premium beef to make steak, Minseok bakes a cake, and Jongin tries not to cry at the tremendous loss that runs hot on his skin when he pokes his finger into Sehun’s cheeks and realizes those plump cheeks have become less chubby.

“Oh no.” He very much wants to cry.

“Look, drama queen,” Sehun squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “My cheeks are still there. They’re just...tinier. I don’t know, but I’m sure they won’t disappear.”

“You don’t know that!” Jongin whines. “You’ve been eating cardboard chicken for a month. It’s killing my good luck charm.”

“I’m sure you don’t need that much luck. Your face is literally everywhere in South Korea now.”

“It’s because you’ve been giving me your cheekies good luck charm!”

Sehun heaves a sigh. “I know my cheeks. They won’t go away.”

“Okay,” Jongin huffs, and breaks his jumbo chocolate chip cookie in half and stuffs the bigger piece into Sehun’s hand. “Here.”

“Coach will kick my ass,” Sehun informs Jongin, but he breaks his half into smaller pieces and starts to eat them.

Sehun doesn’t finish his half (he has such a small appetite), but it’s the happy look on his face that Jongin wants to see.

*

Jongin’s birthday present from Sehun is a logo T-shirt from the ViVi x SPAO collection.

“When’s the official release?” Jongin looks down at the embroidery of Sehun’s precious fluffy cloud. It’s such a cute collection.

“My birthday,” Sehun says. “This is the sample, though.”

“You’re giving me a sample?”

“What? It’s cute.” Sehun shrugs nonchalantly. “Exclusive, too. I can guarantee no one in this country has what you’re wearing.”

“It’s cute,” Jongin parrots. They’re at Minseok’s house watching a thriller movie. Kyungsoo and Minseok are completely into the movie, eyes firmly on the TV screen, while Baekhyun cocoons under a blanket and holds onto Kyungsoo’s arm tightly because he’s scared. Chanyeol isn’t here today; he has a schedule with NNG, so Sehun and Jongin take the comfy couch for themselves after winning rock paper scissors. “I’ll send you something from my collection with Gucci. Do you want a sweater? A bag? Or both?”

Sehun tilts his head, sharp jaw digging into Jongin’s shoulder. “I can’t wear Gucci in public. They’re rivals with Dior, remember? So technically, you’re my enemy.”

“Alright, enemy, a bag then,” Jongin absentmindedly wraps an arm around Sehun’s stomach, pulling him closer so they could both share the blanket. Sehun is wonderfully sweet and warm against him. Jongin’s heart thrashes in his chest, in a way similar to what he called stupid schoolboy infatuation many years ago, when all he knew was practice and practice and practice and Sehun’s lips and Sehun’s shy smile and Sehun’s hands interlaced with his own and the taste of Sehun’s favorite tamarind juice.

“A bag sounds nice,” Sehun hums. Jongin presses the pad of his thumb into Sehun’s voluptuous cheeks (thank God he has adjusted his diet after he shreds off some pounds), and suddenly wonders how it feels like to plant his lips on those glowing cheeks. The thought that he wants to kiss his bandmate is frightening yet isn’t frightening at all. Jongin doesn’t know what the hell he’s thinking.

“Kids,” Minseok turns around to glare at them. “Be quiet. We’re trying to watch the movie.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Jongin says sheepishly. He manhandles Sehun until they’re properly seated on the couch again. Sehun’s hair smells like a field of spring flowers and strawberries. “Hey, can I—”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sehun says, obviously afraid that Minseok would scowl at them again.

He’s just so cute, Jongin muses to himself as he leans down slightly and plants a butterfly kiss on Sehun’s hairline.

Sehun sits very still for the rest of the night.

*

EXO will come back with a special album for their 9th anniversary.

Jongin receives the confirmation email from upper management on a late January evening. A plethora of emotions rushes through him. Happiness. Anticipation. Nostalgia. Love. Because EXO is, and always will be, home.

“We should do a dance break again,” he tells Sehun at the end of the first meeting. “Like what we did for Obsession.”

“I’d love to do that as well,” Sehun smiles, the edges around his eyes soften. “Once we get to the choreography, let’s talk to hyungs.”

Working on the comeback album is fun. They practice, they discuss, they debate, they laugh. Baekhyun still loves to annoy the hell out of Kyungsoo. Minseok still talks about Jongdae all the time. Chanyeol still is the center of all the chaos. And Sehun is still...Sehun, cute and kind and the funniest guy on Earth. Yet there’s this calm aura around him, and on more than one occasion, Jongin catches Sehun looking at the members with fondness in his eyes.

When Baekhyun suggests that Sehun becomes the leader for this comeback, everyone immediately agrees.

Things go on as usual. They go over the songs, brainstorm concepts, and decide on what contents to prepare for fans. Releasing a new album is nice, but what feels more special to Jongin is the moments he spends with his hyungs and Sehun — Kyungsoo goes around the set talking to the staff, Chanyeol strums his guitar during their short breaks, Baekhyun collects snacks to film a mukbang for KyoongTube, Minseok stays on the couch with his headphones on, deliberately staying away from whatever antics Baekhyun is trying to drag him into, Sehun playing some game on his phone and sometimes he and Jongin launch into what look like a serious conversation but it’s just them arguing over the protagonists of an anime series.

And Jongin keeps going to Sehun for his cheeks. It has become a habit now that no one, including the staff, bothers to question. Jongin doesn’t have to ask now; he just walks towards Sehun and Sehun will begin to smile until his dimples stand at attention. Sometimes he closes his eyes when Jongin caresses his cheeks. Sometimes he makes a face when Jongin calls him cute, but the red staining his cheeks is so obvious that Jongin’s heart skips a beat.

“I feel like nineteen again,” Jongin admits to Kyungsoo one day when the rest are in the studio re-recording their parts for Paradise and Just As Usual. He and Kyungsoo both got schedules today, so they stayed after filming yesterday and did their parts first.

“Like before you and Sehun broke up?” Kyungsoo asks thoughtfully.

“Not you too, hyung,” Jongin says. “We were never anything. I didn’t even know if we had something to begin with. There was Luhan. Zitao. I don’t know.”

“Luhan was a schoolboy crush. Sehunnie was over it even before Luhan left.” Kyungsoo picks at a lint on his jacket. “There was nothing with Zitao. You know that, Jongin.”

Maybe he does.

There was one time that Baekhyun asked if Jongin was in love with Sehun, but he shrugged it off. The idea of falling in love sounded far away. Jongin had many goals to accomplish today, this month, this year, the next five years, and a love story with his own bandmate, out of all the people, was not part of the schedule. “Sehunnie is,” Jongin said, to his sneakers more than Baekhyun, those sneakers that Sehun bought for him because he felt guilty about ruining Jongin’s white sneakers. “Just a friend.”

(“Are you sure?” Baekhyun said.

“Ask him,” Jongin said. “And he’d say the same.”

The day after, Jongin cornered Baekhyun in the laundry room. “Yeah, he said the same,” Baekhyun said, and changed the subject.)

So, it was probably not always true, maybe there was a lie, him or Sehun. Or maybe these endless days in the practice room meant nothing more than a mutual career goal. Jongin tried to not let anything get to him, not when he had a long road ahead.

“You’re not nineteen anymore,” Kyungsoo’s voice rings in his ears. “Neither of you. You talked about happiness a lot in the interviews during your solo debut last year. Do it, too.”

“I didn’t make that choice many years ago,” Jongin says. “I couldn’t just moonwalk back here like nothing happened. Many things happened.”

“You already did,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “For the last few months, you guys have been looking at each other like you two have a secret and you come to him to poke his cheeks. He allows you to do that. May as well use your mouths too.”

“But poking his cheeks brings me luck!” Jongin protests. It does. The sensation rushing through him when he touches Sehun’s dimples does a fantastic job in calming him down. He feels more confident, more energetic. He’s been getting lots of variety show offers too. “Even Baekhyun hyung believes so!”

There’s something in Kyungsoo’s gaze akin to pity. “Oh, Jongin,” he says. “There’s no such thing as dimples for good luck. Baekhyun doesn’t believe in it either. He just wants an excuse to poke Sehun’s cheeks, but Sehun always says no to him.”

Jongin opens his mouth. Closes it. Because, well. “Sehunnie says no?”

“To Baekhyun, not me. He can never say no to me.” Kyungsoo contemplates for a moment. “And vice-versa. Anyway, that's not what I want to say.”

“It’s been years.”

“You thought you’d gone past the point of return,” Kyungsoo studies him. “But have you ever thought that you never actually left in the first place?”

*

“No.”

“Just one, please, Sehunnie,” Jongin puts on what he thinks is his best puppy face. He hopes he looks like a bichon frise. Sehun loves that breed the most; he’s biased, since it’s Vivi’s breed, but first impressions last. They always do. “One picture is all I ask.”

“No.”

“Look, the closet pose is already taken by Baekhyun and Minseok hyung. The couple portrait pose is claimed by Chanyeol hyung. We have to be more creative. I’m not going to do the tourist pose with a V-sign.”

Sehun glares at him and pouts. “What’s wrong with V-sign?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Jongin amends. “Come on, Sehunnie, you don’t even have to move an inch. Just stand there, be pretty, and I’ll do all the work. I’ll even turn your head towards the camera for you.”

“No.”

“I’ll buy you bubble tea.”

“I can buy it myself.”

“You like it more when someone else buys it for you,” Jongin says. “I’ll ask my mom to make beef dumplings.”

Sehun stops in his tracks.

“I’ll ask my brother-in-law to give you a pot of apricot roses from his garden,” Jongin lays down his ace card.

Sehun gives Jongin his best poker face, but Jongin knows what Sehun sounds like when he gives in. When he’s excited. There’s a difference in his eyes, even if no one else could spot the difference. “Just one pose.”

“Deal,” Jongin grins. When Sehun goes to the make-up artist for a touch-up, Jongin quietly does a fist bump in the air.

“Alright, are you ready?” The photographer calls. “One, two, three, go!”

The light is on and Jongin steps closer. Sehun looks absolutely gorgeous, with his Ray-Ban glasses down on the bridge of his perfect nose, his hair styled beautifully and his skin glows like it’s made of diamond dust. He’s looking at Jongin, a little bit dazed, but Jongin likes this. He likes it when Sehun’s attention is on him.

“You’re the prettiest,” Jongin whispers, only loud enough for Sehun to hear, and watches with smugness when pink dusts Sehun’s cheekbones. Jongin isn’t lying; Sehun is too fucking pretty for his own good. “Ready?”

Sehun nods at him, and he smiles. His lips quirk upwards, the indents of his mochi cheeks deepen, and Jongin chooses that exact moment to press his pointer finger into Sehun’s cute dimple while turning to the camera with a megawatt smile on his face.

Click. “Wonderful!” The photographer shouts.

Later, they huddle around a laptop to go over the pictures. As Jongin expects, their poke-the-cheek picture stands out the most. The photographer is extremely pleased. “Let’s make this a poster,” she tells her assistant. “Tell Changhoon that this has to be a poster. I don’t care how he does it.”

“It’s too adorable,” Minseok coos. “I’d love to have one. You two should sign that poster for me so I can frame it. Like what you did with your albums.”

“You’re no longer in the military, hyung,” Sehun laughs. “Buy the album and support us.”

“My hyung privilege still stands,” Minseok declares before he gets distracted by a toy that the staff just brought in.

Sehun laughs harder, and Jongin thinks people with dimples like Sehun have an essential role in this universe: To smile.

Jongin enjoys all the different concepts in their album, because they’re all the group’s hard work. But he enjoys the Parallel Universe photoshoot with Sehun the most.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Sehun says.

Jongin feigns innocence. “Like what?”

“Those...bedroom eyes of yours,” Sehun mumbles. “You look like you want to...seduce people.”

“I’m honored that you know what kind of look I have in the bedroom,” Jongin grins. Sehun fixes him with a wide-eyed reaction before he ducks his head and pretends to play with some buttons on the camera. “Okay, let’s get back to work. I’ll be more serious.”

“Promise?” Sehun asks. He’s so fucking cute Jongin wants to combust.

“Promise,” Jongin says.

The look of betrayal on Sehun’s face when Jongin unwraps a lollipop five minutes later and poses with it is priceless. The look that Sehun gives him — one that stuck to his skin — when he hands Jongin the camera leaves Jongin with goosebumps.

Revenge is a dish best served as long as it is served, or at least in Sehun’s dictionary. Jongin tightens his grip on the camera when Sehun puts on his glasses, tilts his head playfully, his hair in flawless disarray, and slowly puts the lollipop on the tip of his pink tongue. Jongin feels hot, and definitely bothered. Sehun is a model; he knows his shit.

Jongin shoots back when they’re sharing a chair later for another batch of duo pictures. He leans down to wrap the cord around Sehun and conveniently pokes Sehun’s cheeks.

“You’re annoying,” Sehun huffs, but he’s also a professional, so he flashes a good-natured smile at the camera while letting Jongin do whatever silly things he wants to.

“They’re so cute,” Minseok tells Baekhyun. “The tension is just a cherry on top.”

“They’re young,” Baekhyun agrees. “Plus, that cherry has been on the tree for too long.”

“They’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Chanyeol pipes in. He’s carrying what looks like a stack of Kyungsoo polaroids. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” Minseok says, amused. “Worry about yourself first.”

*

A few days before Luhan left, he told Jongin that Sehun was in love with someone.

“This is not the time, Lu-ge,” Jongin said in his broken Chinese accent. And maybe a broken heart. Broken and confused. Everything seemed fine, so why? “You didn’t have to—”

“I’ve decided, Jongin-ah,” Luhan smiled softly, but his eyes were firm. “I’m sorry. But I’m not here to make you dwell deeper on that. I just want to let you know that there’s nothing between me and Sehun. He’s in love with someone else.”

Jongin’s fingers felt like they could fall off. The weather wasn’t supposed to be this cold. It was September, for fuck’s sake. “And why are you telling me this?”

Luhan’s luminous eyes stared at him, long and hard enough to leave a bruise. “Just wanna clear things up before I go,” was all he said.

Luhan’s flight back to Beijing took off in the morning, and Jongin set up his alarm one hour earlier. Sehun was in the kitchen making breakfast when Jongin emerged from his room.

“Stop looking at me like I’d break,” Sehun scowled. “I’m not made of glass.”

“I’m worried about the food,” Jongin said. “Should I bring the fire extinguisher out here just in case?”

“See yourself out because you’d get no breakfast from me.”

Jongin laughed and waited for Sehun to join him. Their laughter sounded pained, but at least they were trying. Jongin burned a slice of toast and Sehun dropped a carton of eggs onto the floor, but they managed to make edible scramble eggs and honey butter toasts after half an hour of struggle.

“Do you think,” Sehun began, then cut himself off.

Jongin poured him a glass of water. “Say it.”

“Do you think,” Sehun licked his lips, “we’ll get over this?”

He gestured to the left end of the hallway, where the vacant room that Luhan used to stay in whenever he crashed at EXO-K’s dorm was located. “Maybe,” Jongin said. “People always say that time will heal.”

“Will we ever be healed?” Sehun asked, scared. Terrified.

The thing with Jongin was, he honored honesty. He knew Sehun did, too, that was why they got along in the first place. You could never deliver something to Jongin and expect him to sugar coat it. “Probably not, Sehun. Two members left. They’re not coming back, so we have to move on with what we have now. We will never be the same. And it will hurt. But there’s nothing we can do. People come and go. That’s all to it.”

Sehun’s lips quivered, then he broke into a guttural sob. Jongin pulled him into his arms and let Sehun cry his heart out. By the time Sehun began to doze off, exhausted from crying, Jongin quietly wiped away the wetness on his own cheeks and whispered into Sehun’s hair.

“You shouldn’t be in love with someone who made you cry,” Jongin blurted out.

“What?”

“Lu-ge said you were in love with someone,” Jongin ran his hand up and down Sehun’s back. “You don’t have to tell me. Just don’t fall in love with someone that makes you cry.”

Sehun fell asleep before he could respond.

*

“Sorry,” Baekhyun says unapologetically as he rolls down the window. “We can’t let you in.”

“There are just you and Minseok hyung in the car,” Jongin points out.

“...Social distancing,” Baekhyun replies smoothly, overlooking the fact that Minseok is sitting in the passenger seat, just mere inches away from him. “Good night, Jonginnie.”

Chanyeol picks up his call after the fifth ring and promptly tells him that he’s at Kyungsoo’s place with the NNG team and that Kyungsoo is making dinner. By the time Jongin ends the call, Baekhyun is already driving away, leaving him at the lobby with his 3% battery phone.

It’d be easy if they were at SM building, but the filming location today is a warehouse in bumfuck nowhere that SM staff managed to come across during that one time he got lost on his way to visit his grandma and just drove mindlessly around and ran into an abandoned block of buildings that, magically, would be ideal for SM artists dark MV concepts.

Jongin has started to look around for some materials that he could use as a temporary mattress tonight when Sehun pulls up in his sleek Audi R8. Sehun has changed into a casual outfit — sweatpants, a white T-shirt and a beige cardigan — with his sunglasses on the top of his head. “You’re hopeless,” he sighs dramatically. “Imagine what if some reporter finds you here. Just In: EXO’s Kai Found Asleep In An Abandoned Warehouse? Gucci would disown you.”

“It wouldn’t be that bad. I know some useful survival skills.” Jongin read a book once. It was a camping survival guide his sister bought for Rahee before her camping trip right at her kindergarten.

Sehun lifts an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, and waits until Jongin settles in the passenger seat to start a playlist that he names Driving Playlist #4. Jongin comments on each song as Sehun drives them back to the city (“Hey, I like this song, what’s the name?” “This makes me feel like I’m in highschool”, “Damn, their reference is so 2008,” “Sounds like Baekhyun’s jam.”)

When they arrive at the familiar Apgujeong-dong neighborhood, the orange sky has turned into a black tranquility. Stars come to greet their eyes, and Jongin wonders how it would feel like to go into space, exploring the unknowns of the universe, and watch the constellations move. He’s thinking about the motions of planets and the vastness out there, one side of his head pressed against the cold window, when Sehun pulls over.

“I’m hungry,” Sehun says. “Wanna get some bubble tea?”

“It’s not going to make you less hungry,” Jongin counters. He follows Sehun into Cofioca regardless.

The lady owner recognizes them immediately. Besides their own houses and the EXO dorm and the dance studios at SM, Cofioca is a place that feels like home. The owner is friendly, and she treats them like her own kids. Jongin tells him about his variety shows, Sehun tells her about his upcoming drama. She gives them pink-haired Sehun cupholders, saying that it’s the most popular design from many, many Sehun’s birthday cupholder events taken place at Cofioca.

“This melon bubble tea is so good,” Jongin says.

“Told you,” Sehun beams, his eyes crinkling and Jongin can imagine, can see the smile behind his mask, one that stretches so wide that his dimples become evident. “What?” He asks when he catches Jongin’s gaze on him. “Do you want to poke my cheeks again?”

“If I do, it’s because your cheeks are so irresistible.”

“Oh, so you’re blaming me now?”

“Uh huh,” Jongin teases. Sehun pretends to scowl at him, and he’s just so, so, so cute that Jongin wants nothing but to squish his cheeks between his hands and kiss them until they are red.

“Whatever, if you want to poke, do it.”

Jongin looks at Sehun pulling down his mask and presenting his plump cheeks to him without hesitation, and suddenly, he remembers Luhan’s gaze, searching, provoking. He understands it now. Seven years too late, but he eventually gets it.

*

There was a party. Heechul’s birthday party, something like that. It was huge. Heechul, or whoever the host was, rented out a villa in Gangnam to celebrate. It happened in December, there was snow on the ground, and no one cared to ask why Heechul’s July birthday party happened in December.

Junmyeon made sure that everyone joined, because it had been a few months after Luhan’s departure with everyone walking on eggshells for too long. Junmyeon took Yunho’s advice to recharge and asked the whole team to put on their nicest clubbing outfit before dragging them to the van.

It was a wild ride. Junmyeon got drunk on vodka shots and started spilling things and sobbing on Donghae’s shoulder. Even Yesung and Donghae couldn’t stop Heechul from shoving drinks into Jongin’s and Sehun’s hands. The music was loud, the place reeked of alcohol, and Jongin, not used to alcohol at all, was out of his mind by the fourth shot.

Like all the clichés, the dimly lit bathroom was where he first kissed Sehun. Sehun tasted like a disgusting mix of tamarind juice and vodka and cheap beer, but the overall taste was not as disgusting as it sounded, because Sehun’s milk powder scent had overwhelmed him, paralyzed him. Their kiss was sloppy and wet and all over the place. It didn’t last long because Jongin passed out, not from the kiss but from the amount of alcohol that had entered his system.

Like all the clichés, the kiss was never mentioned again. Like a page of stuttered lyrics that went straight to the incinerator.

*

“Luhan said,” Jongin watches the starry sky outside while chewing on his straw, “that you were in love with someone.”

“I think everyone and their moms knew there was nothing between me and Luhan,” Sehun says. “It was a teeny tiny crush that went away after a month when he told me Chinese food was better than kimchi.”

“Luhan said,” Jongin repeats, “that you were in love with someone else."

“Well,” Sehun says, shuffling in his driver’s seat. “And here I thought I was good at keeping secrets.”

Truth is, Sehun wasn’t. He isn’t just too pretty for his own good, but also too honest, too kind, too forgiving. If the ship is sinking and there’s only one life vest left, Sehun would give it to his enemy without a doubt. His love is pure. And Jongin knows the signs. When he avoids Jongin’s gaze, red staining his face, when he lets Jongin have free reign over his cheeks, no question asked. When he bites his lips like he’s unsure, but the light in his iridescent eyes says otherwise. His hands speak another language, certain and determined, such as when they found their way into the space between Jongin’s fingers all those years ago.

(“What exactly did he say, hyung?”

“Why are we talking about this,” Baekhyun demanded, “seven years later?”

“Hyung, please.”

“I hope you don’t fuck it up this time. Otherwise, I’d send my own men from the military to hunt you down,” Baekhyun warned. He closed his eyes, like he wanted to travel back to the laundry basement, where they had that conversation for the first and only time. “He said, and I quoted, ‘If Jongin said we were just friends, then we were just friends.’”

“Hyung, you know this is different from ‘he said the same.’”

“Were you ready for this conversation back then?” Baekhyun made a gesture between them. Jongin shook his head. “Yeah, that’s why.”)

Jongin switches his stare back to Sehun. Sehun is older now, but the curve of his lips, the soft edges of his twinkling eyes, they stay the same. Sehun has changed, Jongin has changed, but there’s this feeling when Jongin is with Sehun that remains in place. The feeling that they can have all the time in the world. For each other. If they want.

“Before you ask,” Jongin begins, “I meant it when I kissed you in that stinky bathroom at Heechul hyung’s party seven years ago.”

Sehun laughs a little. “You remember that? I thought you were wasted.”

“I was,” Jongin admits. “But it doesn’t mean I’d kiss just anyone.”

“Funny how we never talked about that,” Sehun turns to his side so he’s directly facing Jongin. His face is bright red, but he’s holding Jongin’s gaze. Another admirable thing about Sehun: If he decides on a task, he will finish it by any means. And right now, he’s decided that they’re going to have this long overdue conversation.

“It’s just so us to not talk about it,” Jongin says. “Though we both know.”

“Present tense?” Sehun wonders lightly. Jongin nods. “Present tense.”

Jongin doesn’t know who makes the first move (probably him, with all the bottled-up emotions he’s been trying to contain for weeks — years), but Sehun is in his lap, straddling Jongin’s thighs, and Jongin reaches down to intertwine their hands. It’s uncomfortable, the passenger seat is too small for two six-feet-tall men, but oh, how much Jongin misses the feeling of Sehun’s warm breath on his cheeks.

“I didn’t say it because I thought you knew,” Sehun says. “I’d have said it if you asked me. But you’re the one who goes around spouting that there’s no words needed between us.”

“Loyalty, right?” Jongin grins. He cradles Sehun’s face in his hands, admiring the beautiful red staining his lovely cheeks. “I didn’t need you to say it. I sort of knew. Know, I hope?”

“That you’re my best friend?”

Jongin laughs. “Damn it, Oh Sehun, I really want to kiss you right now and you friendzone me.”

“We kissed before and we’re still best friends,” Sehun argues. “Are you saying you’ll stop being best friends with me if we kiss? Because if it’s the case I’ll have to rethink.”

“Nah, let’s just be friends with an unnaturally high level of underlying awkwardness and sexual tension,” Jongin muses. “Maybe keep that past Valentine’s Day so I can avoid buying you a gift?”

“You’re really annoying,” Sehun feigns being mad.

Jongin presses the pads of his thumbs into the indents of Sehun’s beautiful soft cheeks. “For the record, if I had gotten my way seven years ago, I’d have kissed you before I got shitfaced.”

Sehun doesn’t ask why Jongin didn’t. Because he knows. It was not an ideal time for domesticated and over-the-moon infatuation back then. It was the circumstance that didn’t work. But it’s different now.

“This is really anticlimax,” Sehun sighs. “I used to imagine you chasing me down the streets to clear up a misunderstanding I get by seeing you with another guy and then at the crossroads of Rodeo Station you shut me up with your mouth.”

“The last time I chased down my ex years ago like that I almost got hit by a car,” Jongin furrows his brows. “So, no.”

“Boring,” Sehun says. “Are you going to kiss me now?”

Jongin wraps an arm around Sehun’s waist and tugs him closer. “I don’t know,” he says. “Are best friends supposed to kiss each other?”

Then Sehun leans down as Jongin leans up, and there’s no alcohol this time, just the two of them doing what needs to be done. The stars are up in the sky, but Jongin doesn’t care, because in his arms, Sehun is the entire galaxy in one breath.

*

Jongin first met Sehun in a convenience store near Rodeo Station.

Jongin was with a friend from his trainee group, and Sehun was with Chanyeol. Chanyeol introduced Jongin to Sehun, who was holding a can of lemon tea, the kind of tea that tasted too bitter for Jongin’s liking, but when Jongin asked what he was drinking, Sehun’s face lit up like fireworks and he started telling Jongin how good this brand’s lemon tea was.

Sehun’s hand gestures were adorably mesmerizing, and when he stopped to smile at Jongin, it was kinda game over for Jongin.

If Jongin had been focused on the present instead of fretting over the future, he would’ve noticed the look in his eyes when he looked at Sehun. He would’ve seen the moment Sehun started giving him that wide-eyed, blushing reaction for just anything he said. He would’ve understood why his ex-girlfriends all began talking to Sehun with a, “Jongin oppa talks about you.”

He would’ve realized while Sehun bickered with him all the time, he let Jongin have his way regardless. He would’ve known why Sehun’s eyes glistened with moisture during that interview, when Jongin told him that his heart was the most beautiful about him and he was caring more than anyone else.

He would’ve traced the bows of Sehun’s smile with the tips of his fingers and kissed him until he was out of breath, until Jongin, too, was suffocating.

*

Jongin finally does it, seven years later.

*

“Alright!” Sehun claps his hands excitedly. “I’ll give you a real spoiler now.”

“What is it?” Jongin chimes in.

They’re in the studio to record messages for their Spotify playlist. With Chanyeol and Baekhyun in the military, the atmosphere is less chaotic, but still as loud as ever because Sehun couldn’t stop laughing and he makes Jongin laugh too.

Sehun turns around to face Jongin. There’s a I’m-gearing-up-to-win-this-round gleam in his eyes. “Take me with you wherever you go.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t want to know what game they’re playing, though he could see Minseok is dying to drink the tea.

“Brat,” Kyungsoo hears Jongin say quietly, then the latter goes back to professional mode. “Aren’t you giving away too much?”

Sehun shrugs. “I’m going to do whatever I want.”

Maybe what Jang Sungkyu said is right. Kyungsoo hasn't truly adapted back into society yet. His sense of humor is probably somewhere behind the barricades, because none of the words in Sehun’s sentence sounds funny, yet Jongin bursts out laughing like a maniac.

Kyungsoo gives a sign for the staff to stop the recordings. Less editing work for them.

“Care to tell me what’s so funny?” Kyungsoo asks Jongin, genuinely curious.

“It’s what Sehun said,” Jongin wheezes. Sehun is also on the floor, next to Jongin, laughing so hard that he starts coughing.

“I don’t understand,” Kyungsoo says.

“You will, one day,” Minseok appears from behind and squeezes his shoulder. “In less than a year and a half. Maybe.”

“Do you really believe that, hyung?” Sehun asks, now that he has calmed down a little and has a hysterical Jongin to handle.

“That’s what he told me,” Minseok says.

“Beautiful,” Sehun smiles, bright and sparkling and maybe a little bit too whipped for the ball of sunshine that is about to choke on his own laugh. Kyungsoo has no idea what Minseok and Sehun are talking about, but if Sehun is happy, then it’s all that matters.

He shrugs. Whatever this a-year-and-a-half means, he shouldn’t worry too much. What will be, will be.

“You can always ask to poke Sehun’s cheekies later then,” Jongin suggests. “His dimples really bring good luck.”