Archive of Our Own ^beta

Acoustic music fills the air of Kyungsoo’s bedroom, the notes floating along the morning light that streams through his curtains. Kyungsoo, barely stirred by his alarm, tries to squint his eyes open- only to get hit with a faceful of sun. With a muffled groan, he squeezes his burnt eyes shut and flips over, away from the window and the curtains he forgot to close properly last night. Fumbling under the pillow for his phone, Kyungsoo angrily pokes at it until he manages to shut up the reminder from Maroon 5 that he has to get up for school.


Just five more days, Kyungsoo reminds himself, and he’s so ready for the winter break and graduation that the thought is enough to make him try and wake up. His vision still swimming with white dots, Kyungsoo unlocks his phone screen and scrolls through a mountain of useless notifications (mainly Chanyeol tagging him in what he calls “American memes” and Kyungsoo calls “stupid”), deleting each one until there’s something that jumps out at him.


Suddenly awake, he clicks on the YouTube link, holding his breath as it loads. A familiar face pops up on his screen, before leaning closer to the camera’s view-finder to fix his fringe. He mutters something about messy hair before he drops his hand, letting out a bashful laugh that makes Kyungsoo’s chest clench. The scene cuts to him smiling from his normal intro spot, and he does his familiar wave. “Hey guys, it’s your favourite dancer Kai here,” he chuckles awkwardly, and Kyungsoo turns the volume up. “So, uh... Tonight I’m going to karaoke with Taemin and the others, and I thought I’d take you guys with me, wah,” he says, clapping.


So that’s where you went last night, Kyungsoo muses to himself, his stomach filled so quickly with butterflies.


“Um, yeah.” Jongin scratches at his neck, a nervous habit of his. “I’m gonna start getting ready now, so.. Bye,” he finishes with another embarrassed laugh as he reaches to switch the recorder off. Sighing to himself, Kyungsoo can't fight off the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, not even bothering to try.

Jongin’s still trying to get used to vlogging, and constantly complains to Kyungsoo about how uncomfortable it feels to talk to a camera. He only uploads one every few weeks, and Kyungsoo makes it a point to not watch most of them. But as a bit of motivation to get up, he’s making an exception today.

The video has seven minutes left to it, so Kyungsoo sits up, stretching his arms above his head before taking his phone with him to the bathroom to start getting ready. Jongin shows off the barbecue food that they ate for dinner, which looks so good that it has Kyungsoo salivating, and then he films him and his friends making fools of themselves at karaoke. Jongin is by far the worst singer out of all of them, and Kyungsoo can’t help but burst out laughing at his terrible rendition of Gee.


As Kyungsoo’s in the middle of pulling his uniform out of his closet, phone balanced on his knee, Jongin announces that he’s returned home. Slowing, Kyungsoo fixes his attention on the screen to watch as Jongin collapses on his bed, rubbing at his sleepy eyes. His voice is soft as he says good night, thanking his fans for watching, and Kyungsoo can’t help the blush that creeps up his cheeks from seeing that same smile that he’s sent every day through Snow filters, that he thinks of to help him fall asleep. It’s a smile that his viewers can see, but in the end, Kyungsoo knows is only his to keep close.


He closes the video as it fades to black, and taps on the KakaoTalk app in the corner of his homescreen. Biting his lip, Kyungsoo opens up the top chat and types.


you looked cute in your new video. Sent: 7:09


A few minutes later, as he’s fixing his school tie in the mirror, he hears his phone buzz. Kyungsoo tries to stop himself from smiling (unsuccessfully) as he combs through his hair for the hundredth time, trying to stop himself from replying straight away. But his impatience gets the better of him, like it always does, and he makes a grab for his phone.


heyyyyy i told you not to watch my vlogs D: they’re so embarrassing ==
also good morning ♡ how did you sleep? Sent: 7:12


i slept well. and i like looking at your face. Sent: 7:14


Tucking his phone in his pocket, Kyungsoo makes his way downstairs, the house quiet since he’s the first one up. As he’s rummaging the fridge for breakfast, he feels it vibrate again, and he waits until he’s settled down at the kitchen bench with a bowl of cold rice before he opens up his new messages.


you can always look at the pictures i send~ :P i take them just for you ♡ Sent: 7:15


Kyungsoo’s heart twinges slightly, the words hitting the same nerve that the subject always does.


i want to see more than just pictures. i want to see you. Sent: 7:16


Jongin’s reply comes in a second later, and Kyungsoo’s heart sinks when he reads it.


i’ll send you a video on snow then~ Sent: 7:16


With a deep breath in, he debates whether he wants to do this again and risk ruining his entire morning. He doubts it’s even been three days since they last fought, or ‘disagreed’ about it. But Kyungsoo isn’t good at letting things go, especially not if he’s pissed. Clenching his teeth, he types out his reply with stiff fingers.


you know that’s not what i mean. Sent: 7:18


His appetite has disappeared, and it doesn’t help that his throat feels like someone’s squeezing it shut. Rather than trying to force his food down, Kyungsoo mindlessly pushes it around the bowl to try and distract himself. The seconds tick by, and the blood in his head still hasn’t stopped pounding by the point where he’s sick of waiting for Jongin’s response. Slamming his chopsticks onto the marble, he picks up his stupid phone again.


school ends this week. you should take me out to dinner, or just meet me, or something. Sent: 7:21


He drums his fingers on the bench until his phone lights up again, the noise screeching in the silence of the room.


we’ve talked about this soo… im really sorry but im too busy with youtube stuff atm :/ Sent: 7:22


yeah it’s fine. Sent: 7.22


What did Kyungsoo expect, really? Standing, he shoves his unfinished bowl in the sink and storms up the stairs to grab his stuff and leave the house. His phone is put on silence and dropped to the bottom of his bag for the rest of the day.

It’s been four months since Kyungsoo and Jongin started talking.


It started with a direct message on Kyungsoo’s hardly-ever-updated Instagram. Somebody called ‘Kim Kai’ popped up one day to tell Kyungsoo that he’d stumbled on his song covers, and that he loved his voice. Kyungsoo was shocked at first. He’s always kept his singing away from the normal platforms, and instead uploads all of his recordings onto his own little website. No face, just a black screen and his voice, with the only identifier being him saying his first name at the beginning of each video. So Kyungsoo had to ask about how one of the few hundred people who’d heard him sing had found his Instagram, and when he did, Kai confessed that he’d scoured the internet just to find it.


Honestly, Kyungsoo was pretty creeped out, but he replied to put an end to it. Kai didn’t get the hint, though, and did anything he could to keep the conversation going, even without Kyungsoo’s cooperation. Kai, then asking to be called Jongin, asked him about how he started singing, his favourite music, and anything else on the subject. After a few days of this, Kyungsoo wanted to try and figure out this guy’s deal, and finally checked out his profile. He was shocked to find that this “Kim Kai” person had a ridiculous amount of people following him: over 100k compared to Kyungsoo’s small 80. Following the link in the bio, Kyungsoo found himself watching a Mirotic dance cover. Shot in a badly-lit studio, Kai was wearing all-black and a cap that hid half if his face, but shit- this guy was good. And the half a million other people that had watched this video must have agreed. Kyungsoo then went on to do some cyber-stalking of his own, and scrolled back to his first Instagram post from a year ago, he’s ashamed to admit. It took that long for Kyungsoo to grouchily admit to himself that he found Jongin slightly (very) attractive, and to make things even more promising, Jongin had recently made a post coming out as bisexual. So of course, Kyungsoo was a lot more talkative when Jongin next replied.

From that point on, it was a fast fall for Kyungsoo. They switched to KakaoTalk and would start messaging each other from the moment they woke up, not stopping until one of them fell asleep after midnight, Kyungsoo's studying barely touched. Jongin was full of stories about his YouTube life, and the people he’d met along the way - stars who were more successful and fans that were better looking than Kyungsoo could ever hope to be. While at first he was fascinated, as they kept talking, he couldn’t help but feel jealous, wondering why Jongin was wasting his time with him instead. But Jongin was persistent, and Kyungsoo found himself opening up to him faster than he ever has with anybody else. With his kindness and charisma, Jongin was as close to perfect as anything could get, and before Kyungsoo knew it- he was in way too deep. The good morning messages that he received every day, without fail, would send his heart racing, and Jongin could make him blush head to toe with just one selfie. Kyungsoo had never had any experience in love, and it was the first time in his life that he’d been left feeling so breathless, but also so useless.


Jongin confused him. Constantly. He’d happily tell Kyungsoo his worst fears, but not what he was doing that day. He'd have no problem calling Kyungsoo cute (actually, he said it almost daily despite Kyungsoo’s embarrassment), but he’d pull away before they could take a step forward. Never knowing where he stood, Kyungsoo started to overthink and cross-check each text with Chanyeol, just to make sure he was replying right. The pressure Kyungsoo felt under: to be interesting, to let only the smallest amount of his feelings show, to mean more to Jongin than his other fans did- it was starting to drive him crazy. He was sure that he'd screw up somewhere, and Jongin would be out of his life as fast as he'd come, leaving Kyungsoo wondering about what he ever meant to him. The last thing he expected was that one night, two months after they had started talking, his screen would light up with the words-


wow... I really like you


Kyungsoo had stared in shock, read the message again, read it a third time, screamed into his pillow with pure relief, and finally replied. They texted until the next morning, and with each of Jongin’s confessions, Kyungsoo had felt his chest grow lighter, and everything he felt between then grow stronger. The sun had started to rise by the time they finally fell asleep, Kyungsoo’s phone clutched in his hand and the smile still on his face.

Kyungsoo’s been in a shit mood all morning. Wearing his angriest scowl, he trudges down the hallways to his least favourite class, the only consolation being that he gets to see Chanyeol there.


Slumping into his desk chair, Kyungsoo lets out a long breath of air before he drops his head onto the table. There's no way he's budging until their maths teacher shows up and forces him to. Mr. Lee's already given up on Kyungsoo since he slid from being an average student to way below, with no hopes of studying years of forgotten information in time for the national exams the next week. Honestly, with how distracted and sleep deprived Kyungsoo's been, he's barely put effort into any of his subjects except for maintaining his 93% in music. Even though he knows he needs decent marks to get into SeoulArts, it feels too late for the panic to set in, and right now, at least, the cold press of the wood will help to soothe Kyungsoo's headache about everything else digging into his mind. Or at least that’s what he tries to tell himself.


This is the position Chanyeol soon finds him in, Kyungsoo listening as the giant settles into the spot next to him, rummages through some papers, and then pauses.


“Alright, what happened this time?” Chanyeol asks, his tone light. Kyungsoo answers with a groan. “Boyfie troubles?” He makes an affirmative grunt. “Ahh,” Chanyeol sighs out, and Kyungsoo can practically hear him smile while he shakes his head. “Same thing?” he asks, and Kyungsoo lets out his own sigh, finally raising his head and rubbing at the dent left in his nose.


“Just the same thing.”


Chanyeol nods, understanding.


He’s the only person that Kyungsoo has told about Jongin. It’s not like Chanyeol can help out much, since he doesn't have any more experience with dating than Kyungsoo (unless flirting with girls who are way out of his league counts), but he’s Kyungsoo's closest friend, and the only person he trusts with these things. Except with all the time they’ve already spent talking about this topic, Kyungsoo doesn’t expect him to have much else to say, now.


“So...” Chanyeol starts, clearly awkward about whatever’s about to come out of his mouth. “Did you get that doge meme I sent you last night?”


Kyungsoo snorts, his gaze still fixed on his table. “Dumbass.”


“It’s fine, I’ll send it to you again.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, his eyebrows still set in a frown, which Chanyeol definitely notices. “Okay,” he sighs in defeat. “I can tell you need to talk to Dr. Yeol.”


Kyungsoo bites his bottom lip. He doesn’t think that any amount of talking will help - he just wishes he could move past this, or that he was done feeling sorry for himself. But he’s not, and the question angrily escapes his mouth before he’s thought the words through properly- “What am I doing wrong?”


“Tch, nothing,” Chanyeol defends without hesitating. Kyungsoo rubs at his eyes, frustrated, tired. “You’re not doing anything wrong, seriously. It’s just… a complicated situation.”


“It feels pointless to keep trying if nothing’s gonna change,” he grumbles.


“I know, Soo,” Chanyeol gives him a sad half-smile. “But I think you have to wait i-”


“For how much longer?” Chanyeol always, always says he needs to wait it out, and each time Kyungsoo spits back that same question, and each time he expects Chanyeol to finally have come up with the right answer.


“I don’t know... Until you can’t anymore, I guess.” Chanyeol’s voice is soft and patient, making Kyungsoo feel crap for snapping at him. “Jongin could be going through some things right now, or he might just be nervous about meeting you and screwing up.” He pauses for a moment. “But if you think about it this way... in a few months time, you guys’ll either be laughing about this, or you’ll have broken up. Either way, though, it won’t matter anymore.”


Kyungsoo really hopes that it’s not the second option. With one last, heavy sigh, he rests his elbows on the table and buries his head in his hands, the anger deflated out of him. “Why are you smart sometimes?”


“Hey, there’s a reason people call me Dr. Yeol,” he states smugly.


Kyungsoo stretches an arm out to whack him in the stomach, which Chanyeol tries and fails to dodge. He rubs at the place Kyungsoo hit him and pouts, but Kyungsoo can see the victorious glint in his eyes from having cheered him up.


At that moment, their teacher marches into the classroom, and they both instinctively turn back to their desks. As Kyungsoo leans down to grab the books from his bag, he shoots Chanyeol a grateful smile, which his friend returns with ten times the brightness.


The whole room has fallen silent and attentive, everyone clearly tense from the looming shadow of the most important exams of their lives next week. But as Kyungsoo copies out revision notes that he has no hope of remembering before then, his mind wanders back the familiar path to thinking about Jongin, instead. He keeps realizing, again and again, that Jongin makes him weak in ways that Kyungsoo never thought he could be, stripping him of all the pride and confidence he thought he'd never lose.


At the end of the day, there’s nothing he wants as much as Jongin’s love and attention- and it terrifies him that he doesn’t know how many times he’ll let his hopes get dashed, or let himself get hurt, just so he can get it.

Kyungsoo draws it out. He waits until the last class ends, until the bus drops him off and he’s walked the freezing ten-minute trip home, until he’s alone in his room and his heart is still pounding too loudly in his chest.


Setting his bag down carefully on his bed, he fishes his phone out, and with a deep breath in, he sinks down and stares at the blackened screen. This part’s always the hardest - giving in. Again. Exhaling, he turns on his phone, watching as it stalls before the screen lights up, the notifications starting to load at the most painfully slow speed.


Jongin has left him 21 messages. All ‘I love you’s and ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘please forgive me’s. The last one was sent five minutes ago and reads ‘please please talk to me’. Kyungsoo’s stomach twists with guilt.


call me? Sent: 16:32


Not even a minute later, Kyungsoo’s phone is buzzing with that familiar Private Number flashing on his screen. He clears his voice and picks up.


“Hello?”


“Hi.” The connection is as scratchy as ever, and the white noise of the silence that follows is so familiar to Kyungsoo.


“Hi,” he repeats, the word forced past the lump stuck in the back of his throat.


“I’m so sorry, Soo- I’m really, really sorry-”


“No, stop, I’m not mad anymore.” He means it. Swallowing, he murmurs his next words. “And I’m sorry too.”


“Please don’t be,” Jongin says, his relief clear enough to hear over the static. “I love you.”


“I love you too. You loser.” The faintest smile starts to form on Kyungsoo’s lips.


“How was your day?” Jongin asks, genuinely curious, like he always is.


Laying down on his bed, Kyungsoo rolls onto his side so he can look at the grainy photo of Jongin that Chanyeol had printed for him as a joke, but that Kyungsoo had stuck to his bedside table anyway. “It’s better now,” he replies, letting his eyes drift shut and the sounds of Jongin fill his chest.

It’s one week later, as Kyungsoo is basking in the freedom of the holidays, the joy of finishing his final ever high school exams with at least passes, that he gets the message. He’s draped over the couch at 9AM, watching penguin cartoons in his pyjamas, when his phone buzzes. It’s not Jongin, who’s probably still asleep, but an Instagram direct message from some random profile. Assuming it’s spam, Kyungsoo ignores it. The same account sends another one a few seconds afterwards, though, which he taps on with a frown.


Hi Do Kyungsoo, you don’t know me but my name is Jongdae, and I’m one of Kai’s friends.


I need to talk to you about something that involves Kai.


Kyungsoo isn’t that phased when he reads it. This isn’t the first time that someone from Jongin’s circle has contacted him. He’s been messaged by Taemin before - a nice guy, but with the most disgusting sense of humor. And on their one-month anniversary, Jongin’s oldest sister texted him to congratulate them, which Kyungsoo was completely flattered by. There was even Jongin’s ex-girlfriend, Soojung, who DMed Kyungsoo, accusing him of only using Jongin for fame and money. Kyungsoo ended up blocking her when she wouldn’t stop spamming him, so there’s no way this Jongdae guy could be worse than that. Judging by his professional way of texting, he’s probably an older brother figure who's checking Kyungsoo’s intentions or something. Clicking on his profile, Kyungsoo scrolls through an endless stream of sunsets and sceneries shot in bad lighting, before a third message pops up.


It’s urgent. Please call me as soon as you can; my number is xxx-xxx-xxx.


Confused, Kyungsoo tries to reread the messages and piece together what could be wrong - but he can’t think of anything. The last time he talked to Jongin was last night, and they were texting until they both fell asleep, or so he thought. A panic starts to grow in his chest from not knowing what might have happened, and he types out the number as fast as his now shaking fingers let him. Sitting up dead straight, he listens with bated breath. The line rings three times before someone picks up.


“Hello?”


“H-hey-” he splutters, before trying to make himself sound calmer. “It’s Kyungsoo- i-is it Jongin’s friend?”


“Yeah, this is Jongdae.”


“What’s wrong? Is he okay?”


“Jongin’s fine, I promise,” Jongdae quickly assures him, and Kyungsoo breathes out in relief. “But I need to ask you some questions.”


“Like what?” Kyungsoo asks, entirely clueless.


“I think it’ll be best if we meet in person for this.”


Kyungsoo furrows his eyebrows. “Why?” His response comes out defensive, but then again- he has no reason to trust this person.


“You’re in Seoul, right?” Kyungsoo barely has time to answer yes before he’s cut off. “Are you free now, or at any time today? I promise that it’s urgent.”


The fear from before has settled into a ball in the pit of his stomach, heavy with a new kind of dread closed around it. “I-I guess I’m free now.”


“Okay, I’ll message you a place to meet me near Cityhall, and just tell me how long it’ll take you to get there.”


Blindly, Kyungsoo agrees, and Jongdae hangs up on him. A street address is sent through, a cafe that Kyungsoo already knows he can get to in an hour. As he gets ready, the terrible feeling builds up inside him, along with the questions he should have asked when he had the chance. Like why would they need to meet in person unless it was something bad. Or why would Jongdae have to contact him on Instagram? If he was Jongin’s friend, wouldn’t he have been given Kyungsoo’s phone number? He so badly wants to message Jongin and ask him what the hell is going on, but a part of him is convinced that he shouldn’t.

Meeting Jongdae turns out be a painfully awkward experience. Kyungsoo arrives ten minutes early, with no idea about what he’s supposed to do until some young guy in a gray suit recognises him and waves him over. Jongdae had already reserved a table outside, so much to Kyungsoo’s grief, they are stuck out in the freezing cold. At least Jongdae’s friendly, greeting Kyungsoo with a grin and hand shake. He then asks him the typical questions: how old are you, what school do you go to, what grade are you in - questions that Kyungsoo would rather not be talking about at that moment, but that he answers politely anyway. After that- they fall into an awkward silence that Kyungsoo has no idea how to break.


“One large americano?”


Startled, Kyungsoo jumps at the sudden appearance of the waitress behind him, rattling the table in the process.


“Right here,” Jongdae says, smiling and ignoring Kyungsoo’s reaction. He thanks her as she places the cup down in front of him. “Did you want anything, Kyungsoo?”


Kyungsoo shakes his head, too embarrassed to order anymore, even though he’s dying to warm himself up. Once they’re alone again, Jongdae takes a sip of his coffee before he asks, in a far too casual tone, “So, what’s your relation to Jongin?”


“What?” The word slips out before Kyungsoo can stop it - or process the question. How does he not know that? Kyungsoo thinks to himself, his head starting to spin with the icy winds. Jongdae just stares at him, though, patiently waiting for an answer.


“We’re dating,” Kyungsoo says eventually, his voice weak, and it sounds like a joke, even to him.


“How long have you two been dating?” Jongdae asks, and Kyungsoo notices his hand twitch. For the first time, he sees the legal notepad resting on the table, and the pen Jongdae almost reached for.


“Tomorrow's our two month anniversary,” he answers robotically, fixing his eyes on his lap.


“I see. How did Jongin first try to contact you?”


“By Instagram.”


“And when was that?”


Kyungsoo takes in a shuddered breath. “Why are you asking me these questions?” He already knows he won't want to hear the reason.


Jongdae stops for a moment, and his voice is soft and slow when he next speaks. “Well, Kyungsoo... this may come as a shock to you, but I have strong reason to believe that the person you’ve been talking to hasn’t been the real Jongin-”


“Bullshit,” Kyungsoo snaps, raising his eyes to glare at Jongdae. He knows he shouldn’t swear at someone older than him- but he really doesn’t care right now.


“I know this isn’t going to be easy to hear, but-”


“Stop fucking with me-”


“Please listen to what I’m saying now, Kyungsoo. I’m here because I’m trying to help you. Please.” Kyungsoo backs off, crossing his arms stiffly, his pulse jarred in his throat. Jongdae takes a deep breath before he continues. “The social media accounts you’ve been in contact with are all fake. They don’t belong to the real Kim Jongin.” The blood in Kyungsoo’s head pounds louder than he can think- Jongdae’s words barely reaching him. “Somebody’s impersonating him - and they’re using a Kim Jongin persona to talk to you, and probably other people. This is actually a criminal offense, and Jongin - the real Kim Jongin - and I want you to help us find the person you’ve been in contact with.”


Kyungsoo’s whole body is shaking. Doubling over onto the table, he grabs fistfuls of his hair and squeezes his eyes shut. Jongdae calls his name but he tries to block it out - wishing for everything to end and for the winter cold trembling in his bones to freeze his raging heart. His breathing is loud and scattered, and he forces himself to slow down and count before he makes an idiot out of himself. When he can finally feel his lungs filling up again, a heat is pressed up to his frozen hands.


“Drink something warm, please,” he hears Jongdae beg. Kyungsoo raises his head the smallest amount, before cupping his hands around the offered coffee. “Thank goodness, I thought you were dying.” Jongdae laughs nervously, before he pauses. “How are you feeling?”


There are icicles stabbing at Kyungsoo’s eyes, his fingers are numb, and his whole body feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. “Great,” he mutters.


“Do you believe what I’m saying?” Jongdae asks him evenly.


No is Kyungsoo’s reflexive answer - but he isn’t ready to think about either option. “Why should I believe you?” he asks instead.


“There re always common marks of an identity thief,” Jongdae starts, as if he’s already rehearsed this speech. “And you might’ve already noticed some of them. Like this person used all the same Instagram photos that the real Jongin had posted, so up until a year ago, their feeds look identical. But Jongin’s had an account for way longer.” It rings the faintest bell for Kyungsoo - who’d once found another Instagram under his YouTube channel name, but with more followers. Jongin had laughed about it, saying it was an obsessed fan who’d gotten the username first. Clawing that memory away, Kyungsoo gulps down what’s left of the foul coffee, before he refocuses on what Jongdae’s saying. “- so he’ll avoid anything that could compromise his fake identity, like meeting in person, or calling or Skyping-”


“But he does call me,” Kyungsoo argues, and instantly regrets it.


“Well, what are the calls like?” Kyungsoo shrinks back in his seat, wanting to disappear, to be blown away by the draughts. “Does the voice sound like Jongin’s does in his videos?”


“He has bad reception.” Idiot.


“There are applications that can create those kinds of sound effects, and distort someone’s voice-”


“Stop-” Kyungsoo yells, slamming his fists onto the table and making Jongdae jump back. The people sitting in front turn around and Kyungsoo panics. “I can’t do this,” he states, and before he can think twice about it, he’s grabbed his bag and is walking away from Jongdae, from the whole thing, and Jongdae calls after him and then Kyungsoo's running- running back the way home - wishing he’d never come at all.

Buried deep under a pile of blankets, Kyungsoo sobs in the darkness. He can’t remember the last time he cried - or even came close- but it still won’t come out of him louder than a sniffle or a shaky breath. The weight that’s pressing onto him doesn’t help to stop the thoughts that flood him, his memories now just warnings he doesn’t want to be reminded of. Every cover up and white lie, hidden in texts of ‘i’m busy' or ‘i’m sorry’, flash through his mind. And with each passing second, he feels more and more stupid. How could anyone have been pathetic enough to be blinded by the idea of someone actually loving them? Kyungsoo balls his hands into fists and presses them onto his sore eyes.


He has to run out of tears eventually. Dragging himself out from his cocoon, Kyungsoo breathes in a huge gulp of the cold air and wipes his nose on the corner of his pillow. He keeps his head down, avoiding looking at the picture on his bedside table that is staring holes into him.


Jongin’s smile had been the first thing that he’d woken up to that morning- and now he doesn’t know if he’ll ever speak to him again. Just yesterday, he was thinking about what he’d write to Jongin on their two month anniversary, or what kind of selfie he’d send as a present (not that it would have mattered, since he knew Jongin would have been ecstatic about any picture from him). But what the fuck is he expected to do now? The only thing Kyungsoo can think of is talking to Chanyeol about it. Chanyeol always listens to him complain about this kind of stuff, but Kyungsoo doesn’t know what good that would do him now.


It feels like a giant prank that everyone’s been in on this whole time, and Kyungsoo is finally catching on, four months too late. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react - after crying out whatever he could, he’s left feeling both like a wreck and like nothing. Bitterly, he wonders how Chanyeol would react to Kyungsoo telling him he got catfished. His friend would probably laugh, thinking it was a joke at first, and then when he realizes it’s not, comfort him, and try to cheer him up with food. Even if Kyungsoo doesn’t end up telling him what’s wrong, he knows Chanyeol will leave it alone until he's ready. That sounds like a good enough option for now.


Leaning over the side of the bed, he pulls his backpack closer from where he dumped it in his rush to hide, earlier. He grabs his phone out and flops onto his back, lungs aching from moving. It’s 11:18AM, and he must have gotten home at around 11AM. Honestly, he’s surprised he wasn’t crying for longer than that. Ignoring his notifications, Kyungsoo finds the contact for Chanyeol, and then pauses, his finger hovering above the screen. How is he going to do this?


Fuck it, he thinks, and calls anyway. The phone rings and rings without an answer, and Kyungsoo is almost about to hang up by the time Chanyeol finally picks up.


“Hey man, what’s up?” He sounds out of breath, like he’d raced to his phone.


Kyungsoo has no idea what to say to him. He settles for an awkward ‘hey’.


“Kyungsoo? What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asks, his voice worried. “Kyungsoo?” When Kyungsoo still doesn’t reply, Chanyeol speaks up again. “Are you at home?”


“Yeah.”


“I can be there in twenty minutes. Wait up for me, alright?”


“Alright.”


Chanyeol hangs up with a quick bye, and Kyungsoo drops his phone onto the pillow next to him before rubbing at his eyes. Ah shit, he thinks, just realizing what he forgot to ask him. Opening up his SMSs so that he can text Chanyeol, the first thing he sees is an unread message sent at 10:54AM. It starts off with “Hi Kyungsoo, I’m sorry about” before the screen cuts it off. Must be from that Jongdae person, he thinks grimly, before tapping on his conversation with Chanyeol.


can you bring over some food? preferably ice cream. 11:21


He replies almost instantly, with gotcha buddy, and Kyungsoo sends a thank you. After that, he lets out a long groan, and it’s mostly his guilt about storming off that makes him go back and read the new message.


Hi Kyungsoo, I’m sorry about what happened this morning. I know I should have been more sympathetic, and I didn’t take into account how hard it must have been for you. I honestly can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now, and I apologise not only for my actions, but for the whole situation. Jongin and I would still really appreciate any information you could give us, to help ensure the safety of you, him, and other people who may be affected. I understand if you don’t feel up to the task, and will respect your privacy if that’s the case, but if you ever do, or if you want to talk to someone, please call me. Sincerely, Kim Jongdae. 10:54


Kyungsoo reads through the message a second time before tugging at his hair in frustration. He knows that Jongdae is trying to be nice, but his text just reminds Kyungsoo that he’s not the only one affected here, that even though he’s the one left broken hearted, this isn’t just about him. If he's being practical, then Kyungsoo shouldn’t even be allowed to feel sorry for himself, because he doesn’t know how bad the situation really is, but that thought digs into his skull, piercing and harsh. He should probably wait until Chanyeol gets here before he decides anything, but he already knows what the right thing to do is.


Before he can back out of it, Kyungsoo calls Jongdae, and he answers almost immediately.


“Hello?”


“It’s Kyungsoo,” he says, not knowing how else to greet him.


“Hey, thanks for getting back to me.” Jongdae sounds pleasantly surprised. “I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”


“Yeah, me neither,” Kyungsoo admits. After a pause, he adds, “I’m sorry about how I acted before.”


“It’s alright, really. I don’t blame you,” Jongdae assures. “So, what were you calling about, Kyungsoo?”


He lets out a sigh. “I’ll help,” is all he can make himself say.


There’s silence on the other line, until Jongdae asks, “Are you sure?”


“Yes,” Kyungsoo says with numbed resolve, blindly turning towards the window. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”


“Well... We need to pool together all the information we have as soon as possible, and then we can begin our mission from there.” Kyungsoo wants to know when this became some top-secret spy case, but he doesn't ask, not wanting to waste more heavy words than he has to. “We’ll need to do this as soon as possible, so do you have any free time tomorrow?”


Kyungsoo doesn’t have plans, not anymore. “I’m free all day,” he states.


“Great, are you okay with us all meeting at my apartment?”


Kyungsoo frowns, voice barely curious. “All of us?”


“Jongin will have to be there as well.” Jongdae says with a bit more caution in his tone.


“That’s fine,” Kyungsoo replies curtly. He has much worse to worry about.


“Thank you so much, Kyungsoo. This is a huge help.” Kyungsoo brushes it off, before Jongdae continues. “There’s just one more thing I need from you.”


“What is it?” Kyungsoo doesn’t like where this is going, or Jongdae’s sudden hesitance.


“Until we decide what to do tomorrow, I need you to talk to the account holder as if nothing’s wrong.”


Kyungsoo freezes. He can’t imagine opening up their conversation, let alone replying, his insides shriveling painfully. After a moment of silence, Jongdae calls his name, and Kyungsoo tries to clear his clenched up throat. “Yeah- I got it.”


They decide a time, and Kyungsoo slowly gets up to write his address down on a piece of paper that he’ll have to dispose of later, ‘for safety reasons’ or something. After hanging up, Kyungsoo figures he’s already dragged himself out of bed, so he might as well go downstairs for when Chanyeol gets there.


With a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Kyungsoo flops back on the couch and resumes the episode from where he paused it this morning - almost as if he’d never moved at all. But this time, he’s barely paying attention to the TV, his mind wrapped up in thoughts about what’s going to happen next.


The bell rings one and a half episodes later, and by then, Kyungsoo has gotten very deflated and heavy-lidded on the couch, and has to force himself up to get the door. A messy-haired Chanyeol greets him, grinning as he holds up two plastic bags full of things that are hopefully edible.


“About time,” Kyungsoo grumbles, stepping back to let him in.


“You’ll forgive me when you see the delicious food I brought,” Chanyeol assures as he shuts the door behind him. He sets his sports bag down next to the shoe rack and starts to take off his cleats.


“Were you at practice?” Kyungsoo asks.


“Yeah, but we were almost done.” He smiles up at him, but Kyungsoo still feels guilty. He knows how much Chanyeol loves his football club, even though he’s probably the worst one there (but Kyungsoo would never say that to him). “Don’t worry about it,” Chanyeol insists, straightening up and ruffling Kyungsoo’s hair, who glares before following him to the living room.


They lay blankets on the floor in front of the TV and set up camp, surrounding themselves with snacks and soda cans as they watch Pororo- which Chanyeol doesn’t complain about, for once. He’s munching on popcorn, and Kyungsoo’s already shoveled down half a tub of Baskin-Robbins ice cream, split between his favorite flavors, by the time he figures he owes Chanyeol an explanation.


“So,” he starts awkwardly. Chanyeol turns to look at him. “I met up with this guy today.” When Kyungsoo doesn’t continue, Chanyeol raises his eyebrows expectantly. “He knows Jongin.”


“Yeah?”


Kyungsoo lowers his gaze. “Well, apparently, my so-called ‘boyfriend’ isn’t the actual Jongin.”


“What do you mean?” Chanyeol asks after a moment.


“I mean I got catfished.” Kyungsoo says, trying to sound unaffected. When Chanyeol still seems to be confused, Kyungsoo elaborates. “You know, when someone pretends to be a famous person and then starts talking to you with their fake accounts and pretends that they’re in love with you and you start dating- but after leading you on for four months you find out everything about them is a lie and that you probably meant nothing to them this whole time-” Kyungsoo’s heart is racing by the end, his head dizzy from not breathing. Sucking in a huge breath, he clears his throat uncomfortably, at least glad it's out there. “Yeah.”


“... Fuck,” is all Chanyeol replies with.


“Yeah.” Kyungsoo repeats, half-sneering. “And now I’ve agreed to help track him down, which means I have to keep talking to him as if nothing’s wrong.”


“Are you- okay with doing that?” Chanyeol asks, concerned. At some point, he must have shifted closer, his shoulder now propping Kyungsoo up.


“Even if I was, it doesn't make a difference.”


They fall into silence again, the TV playing in the background, and Kyungsoo heart relaxes back to its normal rhythm. Eventually, Chanyeol speaks again, his question hesitant. “Is there any way that guy could have been lying to you?”


Kyungsoo only thinks about it for a second before he answers. “At first, I didn’t want to believe him- but after I left, all I could think about was the red flags.” He sighs, more angry at himself than anything else. “I don’t know how I didn’t see them earlier.”


“Hey, it wasn’t just you.” Chanyeol gives him a small smile. “I didn’t see them either, man.”


Kyungsoo taps his spoon on his ice-cream tub, dreading the next bit. “Can I ask you to do something for me?”


“Of course,” Chanyeol promises.


“Can you reply to Jongin for me?”


Chanyeol frowns at him. “Isn’t his name not Jongin?”


“Huh?” Kyungsoo is confused for a second, before he catches himself. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” He still hasn’t disconnected the name and face from the person he’s been texting. Honestly, he doesn’t know how he will.


“What do you want me to say to him?” Chanyeol asks, unphazed.


“Anything- you know how I text.” Kyungsoo pauses before adding. “It was supposed to be our two months tomorrow, so act sappy, or something.” He sighs deeply, pulling his knees to his chest. “I don’t know.”


Chanyeol rests an arm around his shoulders, which Kyungsoo would normally shove away- but he’s too tired to at this point. “I can do that,” he offers, his eyes sad and full of pity which Kyungsoo can’t stand to look at.


Instead, he turns around to grab his phone from off the couch, and tosses it towards Chanyeol, who takes it silently. For the next few episodes, Kyungsoo stares unblinking at the TV and focuses on chewing lollies, trying his best to ignore the tapping of Chanyeol’s fingers next to him.

✧

After a long night of thinking and staring at the ceiling while Chanyeol snores next to him, Kyungsoo’s had barely any sleep and is now running late for their meeting the next day. Checking the time again, he curses and picks up his pace until he’s almost jogging down Jongdae’s street. He's stuck in a high-end suburb looking like a lost school kid, it's cold as balls outside, and he still has endless rows of brand new, identically built white apartments to get past until he finds number 98. Today is not Kyungsoo’s day.


Finally, when his phone reads fifteen minutes past ten, he reaches the right number and marches up to the glass door, completely out of breath. There’s buzzers on the wall and he presses the sixth one straight away, too desperate to get into central heating to worry about what he’s doing.


The connection is bad but Kyungsoo can just make out a voice that must be Jongdae’s, asking for his first and last name. “It’s Do Kyungsoo,” he yells into the microphone.


“Date of birth?”


He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at how Jongdae’s turning this into a big top secret mission. “You don’t know my date of birth anyway!”


There’s a moment of static before Jongdae hangs up on him and the door beeps. Shoving it open, Kyungsoo practically sprints inside, sighing in relief when the warmth hits his face. He knows that the apartment is on the second floor, and makes his way over to the carpeted stairs. Half-way up the steps, his nerves catch back up with him, having been delayed since the bus ride over, and he’s having serious trouble breathing by the time he’s in front of Jongdae’s door. Already knowing it’s too late to turn around and bail, now, Kyungsoo stops and takes a second to try and calm himself down. It doesn’t work.


He can practically feel Jongdae staring at him through the peephole, so he forces himself to knock before it seems suspicious. The door opens a split millisecond later, and Jongdae greets him with a huge grin and way too much cheerfulness.


“Kyungsoo! So glad you could make it!” He pats Kyungsoo on the shoulder, who is slightly bothered by the sudden contact. “Come in, make yourself comfortable,” he ushers.


Kyungsoo awkwardly takes his shoes off in the doorway and follows him into his living room - which is an eyesore of blues, reds, and blacks in weird geometric shapes. It’s way too modern and Western for Kyungsoo’s tastes, and he definitely does not feel comfortable.


“Jongin’s waiting for us in the dining room,” Jongdae says, turning around to shoot a quick smile.


“Okay.” Kyungsoo is unphased by this information, and lets Jongdae lead him down the short hallway to the last room, the length of the apartment cramped and the door to the room already open.


“Alright, here we are,” Jongdae announces. He heads inside first, with Kyungsoo only a step behind. As Jongdae steps around the table to sit down, Kyungsoo gets his first look at Jongin.


He’s staring straight at him, expression blank- and it’s like a hard punch straight to Kyungsoo’s gut. It’s the same face that he’s been so familiar with- the person he’s thought about day and night- and countless times, Kyungsoo had imagined the ways Jongin might have reacted when they’d finally met, maybe beaming, maybe embarrassed- but he never expected there to just be nothing.


“Jongin, this is Kyungsoo, be nice,” Jongdae jokes, settling down next to Jongin before reaching for a stack of papers and straightening them. Kyungsoo doesn’t make a move to sit yet. He just stands there, wringing his hands together behind his back. Jongdae must notice, and pats the wood of the empty chair next to him. “Come sit here, Kyungsoo, don’t be shy.”


He knows that Jongin is still staring, and Kyungsoo keeps his eyes fixed on the glass table and nothing else, doing as he’s told, nausea swirling through his body. He can feel a bad aura coming off Jongin, like he has a huge problem with Kyungsoo being there, and it only makes him feel sicker.


Once he’s sitting, Jongdae rubs his hands together, oblivious to everything. “Alright, team, let’s get to work. Kyungsoo.” He claps him on the back. “I’m gonna start by asking you some questions, okay?” Kyungsoo nods. He knew he shouldn’t have come- he’s only going to make an idiot of himself, here, already feeling like an unwelcome burden. “Brilliant. Do you want anything to drink? I have tea or water.”


“No- no thanks,” he mumbles.


“As you wish.” Jongdae grabs the legal notepad from the top of his pile. “So, you and the account holder first started messaging on Instagram, correct?” Kyungsoo makes a faint noise of agreement. “What other platforms do you talk on?”


Kyungsoo fiddles with the hem of his jacket, wishing he didn’t have to talk about it and be the center of attention. He talks quietly, so that only Jongdae can hear him. “KakaoTalk, mainly. And Snow a bit… Sometimes he called me, too.”


“So you have their mobile number?”


Kyungsoo shakes his head. “He uses a private number.”


Jongdae sighs, but doesn’t seem surprised by the news. “I expected that, otherwise this would have been too easy.” He jots something down on his paper. “And how long have you been in contact?”


“Four months, or a bit more,” Kyungsoo replies, shrugging.


Jongdae hums. “And in that time, how many times have they asked you to meet them in person?”


“He hasn’t,” Kyungsoo states, then hesitates before he speaks again, wondering if it’ll make him sound stupid. “He completely avoided it if I brought it up.”


“Interesting.” Jongdae is focused on writing on his notepad, so Kyungsoo can’t see his reaction, and it worries him. “Has this person ever pressured you in any way?”


“No.”


“So, Kyungsoo, you don’t think that they were grooming you?”


The question is heavy, but Kyungsoo still snaps at him. “Of course not.” He’s offended that Jongdae thought that little of his judgment, even though there’s a small part of himself that grates him, saying that Kyungsoo wouldn’t have known, anyway. Kyungsoo shakes his head, trying to block that out. “I don’t think it was like that,” he says more calmly.


Jongdae’s been scrawling things down at lightning speed, but suddenly stops and turns, pointing the pen at Kyungsoo’s face. “I want you to be honest with me, and really think about this question because it’s important.” Kyungsoo frowns, but nods at him. “Do you think there’s a chance that they’re contacting other people?”


After a few moments, Kyungsoo answers. “No.” He’s almost sure about it. “Because we’re- we were always texting, even at school, so...” But what if he was wrong? “I don’t think he would have had any time to talk to other people.” What if Jongdae’s just going to tell him he’s wrong, that he hasn’t learnt shit? Kyungsoo shuts himself up, and waits with clenched fists for the weighted silence over the room to be broken. Stupidstupidstupid.


“Okay.” Jongdae sighs deeply, tapping his pen on the table. “The thing is, even if like you think, there aren’t other people at risk here, this could still cause damage to Jongin’s reputation, since we have no control over what they’re posting.” Kyungsoo isn’t following, but he lets his body relax a bit, loosening the nails that dug into his palms and leaning his back to the wooden chair. “So we can’t just leave them out there for the public to see. We’re still going to try and contact this person, figure out what their intentions were, and make them delete the accounts.”


He can feel Jongdae staring at him intently, so Kyungsoo nods eventually, not knowing what else he’s expected to do. Jongdae turns away and Kyungsoo hears faint whispering next to him that he can’t make out.


“So,” Jongdae starts, turning back to him. “I’m sure you were wondering about how we found out about the accounts.”


Honestly, he just wants them to stop talking about the whole thing. “Not really,” Kyungsoo says- and he swears he hears a tiny snort from next to him, but he wants to keep pretending that Jongin isn’t there.


Jongdae frowns at Kyungsoo for a second before he carries on, unphased. “Well, when you have an online following, there’s always going to be people stealing your photos, and there’s more than one fake Jongin account out there. But with this one, they’ve clearly put a lot of effort in to make it look authentic. Even so, we wouldn’t have looked into it- except that this person is also in control of other fake accounts of Jongin’s friends and family.” Great, another thing that Kyungsoo missed. He squeezes his eyes shut. “So they’re using these extra accounts to tag ‘Jongin’ in pictures and things, most likely so people are convinced that it’s the real him. It was actually Jongin’s middle school girlfriend, Soojung, who first discovered that there was a fake Instagram of herself. She told Jongin about it, who knew to come to me straight away. See, I deal with these issues on a daily basis in my field of work.” Kyungsoo wonders what the hell kind of work that is, but doesn’t bother interrupting his monologue. “So far, I’ve found similar fake accounts impersonating Jongin’s sisters and parents, and also his most well-known YouTube friends. Have any of them tried contacting you?”


Kyungsoo has to stop himself from groaning. He’d seriously though that Jongdae was done asking him questions. “Yes,” he replies, beating Jongdae by rushing through the list. “The Soojung one, the Taemin one, and the sister’s account. But I only talked to them all briefly.”


Jongdae finishes copying the names down and sets the pen down. “I’m going to have to have access to all these conversations, especially the one with the fake Jongin account. Is that okay with you?”


Kyungsoo’s stomach twists. He knows that it’s important, but he still doesn’t appreciate his privacy being broken- and the thought of someone else seeing how weak he was, and all the times he was played- it makes Kyungsoo feel sick. But he forces himself to swallow down his pride, and agrees. Jongdae thanks him, and pushes his chair back.


“I just need to get my phone from my office,” he explains, standing. “You kids keep talking and I’ll be back in a minute.”


Jongdae walks out before Kyungsoo can even try to stop him, and the room is left in complete silence. Kyungsoo slumps back in his chair, gritting his teeth together, deafened by the ringing left in the air and praying for it to be over quickly. But he can feel Jongin’s eyes on him, and has to force himself to look over. Their gazes meet for a split second, making Kyungsoo’s heart stop- before Jongin turns away to look down at the table. Kyungsoo stares straight ahead, his whole face now as horribly red as the walls with what he tells himself is anger.


What is with this guy? he thinks to himself. He knows he hasn’t done anything that could have upset Jongin, so Kyungsoo’s more pissed off than intimidated at this point. To distract himself from his racing pulse, Kyungsoo drums his fingers on the side of his thigh. To his relief, Jongin doesn’t look over at him again, though it doesn't help the tension locked in Kyungsoo's body.


After a painfully long wait, Jongdae waltzes in with a cellphone and laptop in hand. He puts them down and passes a sheet of paper to Kyungsoo, asking him to write down his KakaoTalk, Instagram, and Snow logins, which Kyungsoo reluctantly starts doing.


“It wasn’t that hard to find you next,” Jongdae says, lounging back in his chair as if he hadn’t just left the two of them in the most uncomfortable situation of Kyungsoo’s life. “The fake Jongin account follows almost all the same Instagrams that the real Jongin does. I cross-checked the lists anyway, and lo and behold, I found you.” He pats Kyungsoo on the shoulder, who ignores Jongdae’s brilliant revelation. “You were the only extra person that they followed that wasn’t a celebrity or brand, and they actually liked your photos, so I knew you were a good lead. I contacted you the next morning and the rest is history. Exciting, isn’t it?”


Kyungsoo frowns, wondering what happened to all that sympathy Jongdae pretended to have earlier. Finished with the job, he silently slides the page to him.


“Thanks, Kyungsoo.” Jongdae opens up his laptop and starts to enter Kyungsoo’s KakaoTalk details, whose ears are muffled to everything he says. “I’m going to start reading through your conversations to try and find out more about them and their whereabouts.” He picks up the phone next. “Until we actually confront this person, I need you to act completely normal with them. We can’t tip them off that we’re onto them, got it?”


“Got it,” Kyungsoo says, half-heartedly.


“Alright, that’s all that I need from you guys for now.” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen in shock - he thought that he would have been stuck here all day, but the phone in Jongdae’s hand says that it’s been less than half an hour since he got here. “I’m going to do my best to read through these as fast as possible, but my job is also very time-consuming, so it may take a few days. As soon as I find anything, though, I’ll contact you both and we’ll go through it together.”


Jongdae turns to Jongin who is murmuring something, his voice low and impossible for Kyungsoo to hear. Jongdae nods at whatever it is, and Jongin slips out of the room. Kyungsoo almost rolls his eyes, clenching his jaw tightly. He can’t think of any possible reason that he'd be acting like this, so surely Jongin’s just being rude to him for the sake of it, which is nothing like the image he puts on for his fans.


“He’s just calling his mom,” Jongdae explains, snapping Kyungsoo out of his inner tirade. He just nods awkwardly in reply. “I’m sorry about Jongin.” Surprised, Kyungsoo turns to him, and Jongdae smiles, looking slightly embarrassed. “He’s always like this with strangers at first; but it won’t be long before he warms up to you.”


Kyungsoo frowns. He doesn’t want Jongin to warm up to him, and he definitely doesn’t want Jongdae to be the one apologizing for whatever his problem is. “It’s fine,” Kyungsoo brushes it off. He won’t have to deal with it long, anyway, if they solve things quickly.


Jongdae looks like he’s about to say something else to him, but stops when Jongin comes back into the room. “Is she coming?” he asks, and Jongin nods. “Okay, you kids can run off now,” Jongdae says, practically shoving Kyungsoo out of his seat.


Kyungsoo glares at the hand on his shoulder, but stands up anyway. Keeping a good distance from Jongin, Kyungsoo lets Jongdae rush them out of the room and back to the front entrance. “Keep in touch guys~ and we’ll all meet back here soon.” Jongdae swings the door open and starts to wave them out.


“Wait- you’re not coming down with us?” Kyungsoo asks, one foot already out in the hallway.


“Of course not.” Kyungsoo turns back to stare at him. “I’ve got four months of text messages to read through and only the weekend to do it.” With wide eyes, Kyungsoo tries to signal that he is not okay with being abandoned right now, but Jongdae just smiles obliviously. “Take care, kids!” he says, shutting the door in Kyungsoo’s face, the sound echoing in the silence.


“Motherfucking-” he mumbles under his breath. Reluctantly, he turns back around, and out of the corner of his eye sees Jongin standing nearby, playing on his phone.  With a silent huff, Kyungsoo doesn’t hesitate to leave first, and angrily makes his way down the staircase, soon hearing soft footsteps following. Why did this have to happen to him?


When he gets to the entrance of the building, Kyungsoo briefly considers being the bigger person and holding the door for Jongin, before deciding against it. But just as he pushes it open, Jongin’s standing right behind him, helping to support half its weight. Kyungsoo was managing just fine on his own, but still stalls for a second, not sure if he should thank Jongin for trying. He decides not to, stubbornly keeping up with his silence and marching forward with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his windbreaker. Once they’re out in the cold, Jongin’s only a few steps away from Kyungsoo, who’s trying to walk as quickly as he can without it being obvious.


At first, Kyungsoo tells himself that it’s just the wind whistling- but then he hears another small “hey” and he has to force himself to turn back around. Jongin’s also stopped walking and is staring at the ground. For the first time, Kyungsoo notices that Jongin’s not wearing a jacket over his thin black jumper, and almost feels bad for how cold he must be.


“Were… you talking to me?” Kyungsoo asks, even though he already knows that there’s no one else around.


Jongin nods in reply. “How are you getting home?” he asks, and Kyungsoo is shocked to finally hear his voice- and how deep it is compared to his videos, but that’s probably just because his tone is completely flat.


“By bus,” he says simply, and when Jongin doesn’t respond straight away, he shuffles on the spot uncomfortably, still avoiding eye contact. “Where are you getting picked up?” he finally asks, not wanting the awkwardness to drag on.


“The main road.” Jongin vaguely points to the way Kyungsoo came, and Kyungsoo purses his lips, trying not to let his dread show.


“I’m going that way too,” he says, and after a second of no one moving, starts to walk again. Jongin falls into step next to him, just close enough for Kyungsoo to notice that Jongin is about half a head taller and to be bothered by it.


They’re quiet for most of the walk, as Kyungsoo pretends to be interested in the apartments that pass by his other side, on edge and painfully away of his every move for the entire time. Eventually, Jongin clears his throat and speaks up again. “Thank you,” he says, the words too clear for Kyungsoo to ignore.


Kyungsoo turns to look up at him, trying to read his expression with no success. “For what?”


“For helping… It must suck for you.” Jongin glances over at him for the shortest second, his eyes deep and concerned, and Kyungsoo gulps.


“It’s no big deal,” he says curtly, staring straight ahead.


“Of course it is,” Jongin defends, and the insistence in his voice surprises Kyungsoo. “Anyone would be heart-broken if something like that happened to them.”


“Well, I’m fine with it,” Kyungsoo replies, a bit too sharply to be believable. But he’s never going to let anyone see him break like Jongdae did yesterday.


“Okay... I’m sorry.”


Kyungsoo doesn’t reply, but he feels vaguely bad about snapping at him. They’re almost at the end of the street, close enough that Kyungsoo can hear the cars speeding by. He hopes that Jongin will give up now, since they’ll be parting ways soon- but he doesn’t. “You didn’t have to agree to help,” Jongin tries, more softly this time.


“Well, it was my choice.” Kyungsoo suddenly stops, just a few metres short of main road. Rejudging what Jongin just said, he turns and frowns up at him. “Unless you’re saying that you don’t want me here.”


Jongin laughs at that, the sound high and dorky and Kyungsoo’s heart freezes in his chest. “No-no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, waving his hands in assurance.


“Well good,” Kyungsoo snaps, voice almost cracking the cold air, as he tries to sound unaffected by the way Jongin’s now smiling at him.


“I’m actually glad that you’re here,” he says, and before Kyungsoo can wonder what he means by that, a loud beep startles him.


“It’s just my mom,” Jongin explains, gesturing to the white car that’s pulled up next to them.


“Oh,” is all Kyungsoo says.


“Yeah. Um- I have to go now.” Jongin starts awkwardly making his way to the passenger’s side. “So, I'll see you next time?” Jongin turns to stare at him expectantly- making it hard for Kyungsoo to think straight.


“U-um- yeah.” Fuck, what is wrong with me? Kyungsoo thinks, cursing himself for stuttering.


“Alright, then I'll see you soon.” And Jongin flashes him the most brilliant smile, which is so much worse in real life than in any video or picture. Kyungsoo silently watches him as he gets in and drives off, his mind still racing and his chest still ripped to shreds. When his car is no longer in sight, Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a frustrated cry that can barely be heard over the passing traffic. Why did that ass have to turn around and be nice? he thinks, fully pissed off and kicking himself. As if he didn't have enough shit to deal with already, Kyungsoo’s now finding out that he’s half in love with this guy that he doesn’t even properly know.

Pacing up and down the street, Kyungsoo finds that there's too much nervous energy stuck inside him to keep still. He doesn't want to go home yet- because home means talking to the scammer that he’s supposedly meant to be dating. Chanyeol had left just before him this morning, and now it's Kyungsoo’s responsibility again. Even though he bought himself a few hours by making Chanyeol say that he has a family thing on for most of today, after that, he’ll be stuck back in the lies that caused this whole thing. Wringing his hands in his hair, Kyungsoo wishes that none of this had ever happened to him.


 

It doesn’t take long for Kyungsoo to get into a routine. He spends his days lazing in front of the TV, hanging out with Chanyeol, practicing his singing, researching other music programs that he probably won’t be accepted into, and dodging his parents’ questions about university applications. Every other second, he spends texting his fake boyfriend. Kyungsoo didn’t expect that he’d be able to, but somehow he’s used to it now.


That first day, after meeting with the others, when Kyungsoo had to talk to him on his own- it was hard. Really hard. Jongdae had sent him a text almost straight away telling him that his replies sounded off and that he needed to try harder. Kyungsoo had already been struggling- almost to the point of screaming, and that order made him mad as hell. But he forced himself through it, and now it’s just like any other habit. Wake up, text fake boyfriend good morning, go about his stuff, keep texting, act nice, act clueless, act in love, text until midnight, go to sleep. Or at least, that’s how easy he wishes it could be, but his heart still feels off-centre, hollowed out.


He’s tried to put a wall between them, lying about what he’s doing whenever he can. Kyungsoo knows that he has the upper hand now, but it doesn’t change the pathetic fact that he misses him - whoever he is. He misses how many things they had in common, how easily they could talk, how light he made Kyungsoo feel. He misses that feeling of knowing he was cared about, instead of having to question the intentions behind every compliment, every ‘how was your day?’, every damn ‘i love you’.


The worst is that there are still times, more often than Kyungsoo can stand, when fake Jongin will say something that makes Kyungsoo’s chest melt, that makes him think that he must mean it, that makes him wish that he meant it.


But Kyungsoo always just manages to catch himself before he falls for that again.

“I just don’t get it,” Jongdae repeats, probably for the tenth time that day, as he paces back and forth.


It’s been about two weeks since Kyungsoo last saw Jongdae, who is clearly frustrated with what little progress he’s made since then. This time, they’re all gathered in the front room of the apartment. Jongdae, who couldn’t keep himself still, jumped up and has been walking in circles for the past twenty minutes, while Kyungsoo and Jongin are sitting on his barely-cushioned, monochrome couch, Kyungsoo leaning as far off the opposite armrest as he can without seeming rude.


Jongdae lets out a loud whining noise, clearly wanting some comfort, but Kyungsoo doesn’t bother looking up from his phone, and neither does Jongin. Kyungsoo’s already tried and failed to be helpful, so he’s just going to let Jongdae fume as he uselessly deletes spam mail about Christmas sales. Honestly, Kyungsoo doesn’t even see the point of their meeting up again if Jongdae’s just going to spend the whole time complaining about how he has no leads.


“I don’t understand how this person works,” Jongdae whines. “Like, what’s their deal? They’re smart enough to not leave any clues, so is their clinginess and insecurity really just an act?” He turns to Kyungsoo as if he’ll have an answer, but Kyungsoo just shrugs at him. “I can’t figure out what they’re trying to get out of this.” With a giant sigh, Jongdae slumps down into his armchair. “What do you guys think?”


“Dunno,” Jongin says, and Kyungsoo smirks at the way Jongdae groans, burying his head in his hands.


“Useless,” he mutters. “And you!” Jongdae suddenly yells, pointing at Kyungsoo and startling him. “Why do you text them so much?”


“You told me to!”


“Well, it’s making my job harder,” he accuses, and Kyungsoo scoffs. “I’ve only read through like, two months of your conversation, and at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get up to date!”


“Read faster then,” Kyungsoo snaps, making Jongin chuckle next to him. Kyungsoo tries to ignore the sparks it sets off in his stomach, and focuses instead on glaring at Jongdae until he speaks again.


“We have to approach this differently,” he says, tapping his fingers on the side of the chair. His face slowly lights up, and Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at him, waiting for his next idea. “We have to lure them out.”


“That’s not happening,” he states. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”


“But this time you’ll have me to guide you,” Jongdae insists, and Kyungsoo shakes his head at the ground. “When you talk to them tonight, I’ll tell you exactly what to say.”


With a sigh, Kyungsoo just shrugs at him. He’s not going to bother protesting again, as if Jongdae would listen anyway, and Kyungsoo's in less of a shitty mood today, so he'll cooperate. It might have something to do with the warm smile that Jongin had given him when he first showed up, or the small tug in his chest to make him laugh again, but Kyungsoo quickly shuts that thought down, steeling his heart again.


“Alright, that’s our new plan,” Jongdae states, then jumping up with a satisfied grin. “I’m gonna get back to work.” He pats Jongin on the shoulder. “Up you get, kids.”


Seriously? Kyungsoo thinks, reluctantly standing as well. They haven’t made any progress, and he’s already kicking them out?


“We’ll meet up the next time I have information,” Jongdae promises, going ahead to open the door for them. Kyungsoo doubts that’ll be any time soon. “I’ll be in touch with you both, and I’ll be speaking to you tonight, Kyungsoo.”


“Can’t wait,” he says, barely hiding his sarcasm as he follows Jongin outside.


“That’s the spirit, kid!” Jongdae beams at him. “I’ll see you two soon,” he says, shutting the door after them.


With a deep sigh, Kyungsoo resigns himself to his fate of being left alone with Jongin again. This is the part he's been dreading just as much as the last time, but for different reasons now. Turning around, he sees Jongin staring at him, his head slightly cocked to the side, and that’s enough for Kyungsoo’s cheeks to start heating up.


“Let’s go?” he asks, walking past so he doesn’t have to meet his gaze, and Jongin follows close behind.


“I’m sorry about Jongdae,” he says as they’re going down the staircase. It reminds Kyungsoo of the last time they met up, and he almost snorts at the irony. “He’s… weird.”


“I had worse words in mind,” Kyungsoo confesses, and Jongin laughs that stupid, infectiously happy laugh again.


“He means well, though.”


“I know that,” Kyungsoo assures, about to get the door when Jongin overtakes him and opens it instead. “He’s just- frustrating,” Kyungsoo says, before quietly thanking Jongin.


“I think he gets carried away when he has a chance to show off his spy skills,” Jongin muses, and Kyungsoo notices him shove his hands in his jean pockets.


“Aren’t you cold?” he blurts out, and then winces, mentally hitting himself. For some reason, Kyungsoo’s brain tells him that it’s a bad idea to let Jongin think that he cares about him. But anyone would be worried about someone who was only wearing a plaid shirt in this winter weather, right?


“No, it doesn’t really bother me,” Jongin says simply.


“Ah,” is all Kyungsoo replies with, as he awkwardly starts to fiddle with the zip of his puffy jacket.


“But yeah.” Jongin clears his throat, carrying on after a slight pause. “Jongdae likes being the center of attention.”


“So, is he a police detective or something?” Kyungsoo asks, and Jongin snickers.


“He wishes. Jongdae calls himself a ‘self-employed private investigator’. Most people that hire him just want him to follow their partners around and find out if they’re having an affair or not.”


The first image that pops into Kyungsoo’s head is of Jongdae, wearing a black hoodie instead of his usual suit, slinking around a dark hotel carpark and trying to take photos of the rooms. “Are you serious?” he asks, staring at Jongin with eyes wide.


“Yeah.” Jongin smiles at him. “But he thinks it’s a lot cooler than it actually is.”


“Wow. I’m disappointed,” Kyungsoo states, frowning, and Jongin laughs, lightly bumping into his shoulder.


“This is probably the biggest case he’s ever gotten,” he jokes.


“No wonder he’s so bad at this.” Kyungsoo says, smiling at the ground when Jongin chuckles again. It feels weirdly nice to talk to him like this, even though Kyungsoo’s chest is buzzing with nerves.


They walk along in a comfortable silence that Kyungsoo can easily settle himself into. He can’t help but be reminded of how different this Jongin is from the one he’s been talking to- well, the other one isn’t actually Jongin, he corrects himself. But that guy never lets the conversation die down; he always has something to say or ask, and it’s been like that ever since the first time he talked to Kyungsoo. And the real Jongin is so much shier and more awkward than Kyungsoo was prepared for, but he already feels like he’s getting used to it-


Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut, breath hitched and brain slammed to a stop before he can think that thought through. Because this is reality, and he and Jongin will have nothing to do with each other as soon as this is over, and Kyungsoo can’t let himself imagine otherwise, definitely can't start to want otherwise. Even though Kyungsoo’s feelings are a mess because of this whole thing- this guy has nothing- no attachments, and is only seeing him as a piece of the puzzle.


That’s why when when Jongin’s mom pulls up a few moments later, and Jongin offers Kyungsoo a lift home, he says no, even with his frozen fingers burning in his pockets. There are boundaries that he’s not going to let himself cross, and he repeats that in his head over and over as he watches their car drive away, teeth gritted together.

Kyungsoo’s in the middle of eating dinner with his parents, who are sorting out plans for what they’re doing for Christmas in two weeks time, when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. Besides fake Jongin, who always asks before he rings, Kyungsoo doesn’t normally get phone calls, so his first thought is that it’s Jongdae staging another bogus meeting, which means that he can ignore it and switch his phone to silent mode.


They finish eating ten minutes later, anyway, and Kyungsoo clears the table like the model child he's pretending he is since his parents found out about his very mediocre final results before he heads back up to his room. Taking out his phone, Kyungsoo sees that he’s gotten three missed calls from Jongdae. It has to be important if he’s that insistent, so Kyungsoo sits down on his bed and redials the number.


Jongdae picks up straight away, his voice slightly frantic, and Kyungsoo is almost worried for his sanity.


“Why didn’t you pick up before?” he demands.


“I was eating dinner.”


“Well this is more important,” Jongdae snaps, and when Kyungsoo asks what’s going on, Jongdae practically screams into the phone. “I’ve found a lead!”


Unconvinced, Kyungsoo furrows his eyebrows. Their last plan had completely failed, as he had predicted it would, and Jongdae’s news is coming out of nowhere, so Kyungsoo can’t be blamed for doubting him. “What is it?”


“Incheon.”


Kyungsoo waits for him to continue, and when Jongdae doesn’t, he asks him to elaborate.


“We’re going to Incheon.”


“Why?”


“Because I’ve got some very promising signs pointing us there.”


“What signs?”


“I don’t have time to tell you right now, I’m just about to book our train tickets.”


“Wait- what?” Kyungsoo shoots off the bed.


“Does this weekend work for you?”


“No!” Kyungsoo blurts out, now walking in circles around the room. “Tell me what we’re doing there.”


Jongdae lets out a long groan, before he explains himself, clearly impatient. “I found someone who’s a very strong suspect to be behind the fake accounts. I’ve gotten into contact with him and he’s agreed to talk to us. He lives in Incheon, and we’re leaving on Saturday so that we can meet him on Sunday. Is that enough?”


Kyungsoo’s stomach is churning uncomfortably- and he sinks back down onto the bed, resting his head in his hand. “Yes.”


“So, does this weekend work for you?”


“I-I guess,” he mumbles.


“Perfect. We’re leaving at 3.30 on Saturday. Be there or be square.”


Kyungsoo rubs at his eyes, not appreciating his humor. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there,” he promises.


They hang up, and Kyungsoo inhales deeply, still feeling unconvinced. Something in his twisted gut tells him that Jongdae’s got the wrong guy, or maybe he’s just too scared to consider the possibility that he hasn’t.

✧

Kyungsoo gets to the train station half an hour early, as instructed. After wading through the crowds of people that must be going home to their loved ones, a category he’s definitely not a part of, Kyungsoo somehow manages to find a seat and dumps his duffle bag on the marbled floor. His shoulder is sore just from carrying it the short stretch from the car into the building, and he regrets having packed so much. In his defense, Kyungsoo couldn’t think straight this morning, and now he has three different outfit choices for tomorrow. Besides, he doesn’t even know why they have to stay overnight when Incheon is only an hour from Seoul, anyway, and that's exactly what his parents had drilled him on after Kyungsoo had insisted it was a trip with Chanyeol's family.


To escape the shitty renditions of old Korean Christmas carols that are blaring through the speakers, Kyungsoo takes his phone out, and just as he’s started to untangle his earphones, two pairs of feet walk into his line of vision.


“Well hello!” Jongdae greets, a massive grin on his face that Kyungsoo doesn’t return. “Are you ready to go?” he asks, nudging Kyungsoo’s leg with his mini-suitcase.


“I guess,” Kyungsoo sighs out. Picking his bag back up, he hauls himself up and falls into step next to Jongin, who gives him a shy smile.


They board the train without any problems, and Jongdae grabs them a booth in the middle of the cart. Kyungsoo goes to sit by the window, with Jongin shuffling onto his side aswell, leaving only a suffocatingly small amount of space between them. Jongdae, meanwhile, gets to kick his feet up onto the empty spot beside him.


“Alright, kids,” he starts. “Let me re-explain what happened so that Kyungsoo’s up to date.” Taking something out of his suit pocket, he slaps it down onto the table. It’s a piece of paper with two grainy photos printed onto it. “These look familiar?”


Kyungsoo leans closer to make out what the pictures are. One is of a restaurant’s front on a crowded street that he’s never seen before, and the other is of a temple. “Not really,” Kyungsoo admits.


“They’re pictures that were sent to you on KakaoTalk,” Jongdae explains, stabbing his finger onto the page. “And both were taken in Incheon. This one.” He taps on the first photo. “Was sent when the fake account was talking about a restaurant that they liked, one that has different stores around the country, but that they must have taken their own photo of.” He pauses for effect, but Kyungsoo just blinks at him, unimpressed. “Then this next one is of a famous Incheon landmark that they sent when they were telling you the history of the city. Why would they know so much about Incheon, hm?”


“Naver,” Kyungsoo says flatly.


“Pfft, as if.” Jongdae shakes his head, smiling at Kyungsoo arrogantly. “When you’ve been in the business as long as I have, you can tell the difference between a coincidence and a lead.” Tucking the paper back into his blazer, he carries on. “Incheon is also the place that Jongin had a meet-and-greet at the beginning of the year, and there was one particular fan there that stood out. This guy manages one of his biggest fansites out there, and he stalked Jongin back to the hotel he was staying at and tried to sneak into his room.” Kyungsoo can’t help but look over at Jongin, who is staring at Jongdae with a blank expression. “The rest just ties together. Someone who’s obsessed with Jongin, way above the level of a normal fan, creates a fake account to try and feel more connected with him. But then the power starts to get to his head, and he wants more. He starts making this huge network of accounts, and makes them interact like in the mini-universe he has in his head, and then he uses these accounts to talk to other people so that he can satisfy his delusions. By this point, he probably believes that he and Jongin are the same person.”


Jongdae is giving him the most serious look, but it sounds so far-fetched that Kyungsoo just can’t buy what he’s saying.


“And you’ve managed to get them to meet with us tomorrow?” he asks, trying to fill in the blanks.


“It was easy, really. I emailed the fansite and told him that he’d won a meeting with Jongin for all his hard work. Of course he’d agree to it.”


“I see,” Kyungsoo mutters.


“So, that’s what we need to be preparing ourselves for. Someone who’s completely out of touch with reality, and would do anything to get to Jongin.” Jongdae leans down to unzip his suitcase, and sets a laptop on the table. “Now, I’ve got some business stuff to do, so you kids will have to entertain yourselves,” he says, putting on his headphones.


Slumping back in his seat, Kyungsoo lets out a quiet groan. This whole thing is ridiculous, even for Jongdae. Now Kyungsoo’s worried that he’s going to waste the small amount of money his parents had given him for this trip, which he still has no idea how much he owes to Jongdae.


Kyungsoo can faintly hear Jongdae’s loud girl group music over the sounds of people putting away the last of their stuff, so he doesn’t bother whispering when he leans over to Jongin. “Do you think he’s onto something?” he asks, and Jongin looks at him, eyes so dark and unreadable in the overcast daylight that it makes Kyungsoo’s heart stutter.


“I don’t know,” Jongin admits, and Kyungsoo swallows.


“It just seems… Too crazy.”


“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” Jongin says, giving him a gentle smile.


“I guess,” Kyungsoo repeats, and when Jongin doesn’t say anything else, he settles back onto his side of the seat.


The train slowly comes alive, and as they start to move, Kyungsoo takes out his phone and headphones, before Jongin does the same. His stomach swirling, Kyungsoo spends the ride staring out the windows and at the passing city skylines, trying to block out his thoughts about what’ll happen next.

To Kyungsoo's surprise, Jongdae is actually really competent when it comes to navigating other cities, which he's grateful for, since Kyungsoo's only been out of Seoul a total of three times in his life. It’s rush hour when they step out into the chaos of central Incheon, but Jongdae easily manages to grab them a taxi and gets them on route to what ends up being the fanciest hotel that Kyungsoo’s ever stayed at. The lobby to this place is fully decked out with marbled furniture, floral bouquets and huge chandeliers. His awe must have been too obvious, because he finds that Jongin is looking at him with a weird smile. Embarrassed, Kyungsoo turns away from him, and waits impatiently for Jongdae to finish checking in.


“306 and 307,” Jongdae says, handing Jongin one of the room keys before he ushers them to the elevators.


“Who’s sharing a room?” Kyungsoo asks, already knowing the answer.


“Hey, I’ve got confidential work to do,” Jongdae says as he steps into the lift. “You kids can live without me for one night.”


Kyungsoo grimaces. He’d honestly thought that the three of them would just share a large room. Surely that would have ended up being cheaper- but that thought reminds him of something else. “Jongdae, I don’t know if I have enough to pay you back for the room-”


“When did I say you had to pay?” he asks back, eyebrows raised.


“But-” Kyungsoo starts, until the elevator dings and he follows Jongdae’s lead out. “I thought that-”


“Don’t worry about it, seriously.” Jongdae turns back and gives him a smile. “I’ve got a private investor funding this whole trip for us.”


Jongin snorts next to him, and Kyungsoo decides he doesn’t need to ask about it. Instead, he quietly thanks Jongdae, meaning it sincerely.


“No need to thank,” Jongdae assures as he stops in front of room 306. “Alright, I’ll come and get you guys...” He checks his watch. “In an hour, and we’ll find somewhere to eat. Just knock if you need me.”


And as is Jongdae’s talent, he disappears inside his room with no warning, leaving the two of them awkwardly standing there.


“We’re just here,” Jongin says, stepping over to the next door and swiping the card to unlock it.


Kyungsoo hesitates for a second before he follows him in, and Jongin’s dumped his backpack on the floor, already starting to take off his shoes while Kyungsoo’s still frozen in the entryway.


“Are you alright?” Jongin asks, peering up at him from where he’s sitting on the bed- which is definitely not within the boundaries Kyungsoo’s set for himself.


“But but- there’s only a double bed,” he splutters out, heart pounding in his throat.


“So? We can share,” Jongin says simply. When Kyungsoo makes protesting noises, Jongin starts to look offended. “I won’t bother you, I promise.”


“No but- it’s the bed that bothers me.”


“Isn’t that the same thing?” Jongin asks, pouting.


“No- it’s just-” Kyungsoo groans. He can’t exactly explain that he’s not okay with sleeping right next to the person that, up until a few weeks ago, he thought he was in love with, who he now has weird, unfounded feelings for and who he wishes would not make his life difficult and would stop looking at him like that. “I’m going to ask Jongdae to change the room,” he says, out of breath, and turns away before he has to see Jongin’s reaction.

Apparently, according to Jongdae, he did book them separate beds, but the hotel had gotten it mixed up somehow. It doesn’t matter to Kyungsoo, though, since they’re quickly given another room on the same floor, which he finds way more easy to settle into. The only problem is that Jongin hasn’t said a word since he walked out on him, and Kyungsoo knows it’s his job to break the silence.


“Um.” When Jongin doesn’t look up from his phone, Kyungsoo clears his throat, shifting on his bed nervously. “I’m sorry.” More silence, and he forces himself to try a bit harder. “I didn’t mean to be rude about it. I’m just not that comfortable sharing a bed with-” he almost says a stranger, but that seems a bit harsh. “With someone I haven’t known that long.”


Jongin nods slightly. “It’s alright, I understand,” he says, before looking over at him and offering a small smile that fills Kyungsoo’s chest with relief. “I’m sure it’s weirder that I don’t mind.”


“Yeah, that is weird,” Kyungsoo admits, but he can’t help grinning back, relief flooding his stomach.


They both fall quiet, so Kyungsoo figures it’ll be fine if he does his own things, and he did promise that he’d text Chanyeol once he arrived. Leaning back on his bed, Kyungsoo pulls his phone from his pocket and kicks his feet out, mirroring how Jongin’s sitting. He’s gotten up to telling Chanyeol the part with the beds when Jongin suddenly talks again.


“So, what year are you in?”


Kyungsoo turns to him, but Jongin’s focused on his phone, as if he hadn’t said anything.


“I... just finished my last year,” Kyungsoo eventually answers, Jongin humming. “And you’re in the grade below me, aren’t y- Wait.” Kyungsoo stops, realizing something that makes him groan and bury his head in his hands before he can stop himself. Now he can feel Jongin staring at him, and Kyungsoo lets out a shaky laugh, trying to put his thoughts together enough to explain himself. “I’m sorry- I don’t even know if that’s right or not. It’s just- that’s what he said to me.” He hopes that Jongin already knows who ‘he’ is, because Kyungsoo’s not going to elaborate. “And I don’t know if he was telling the truth or not.”


Jongin doesn’t reply straight away, and Kyungsoo starts to regret that he didn’t just keep his mouth shut. But he hears movement, and peeks through his fingers to watch as Jongin shuffles around the bed until he’s sitting cross-legged, facing him. “Hey... if there’s anything you want to know about me, you can just ask,” he says, his voice gentle.


Kyungsoo blinks at him. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. “O-okay, um…” Jongin’s staring at him, clearly waiting for a question, so Kyungsoo goes for the most obvious one. “What year are you in?”


“11th grade, so you were right, anyway.”


“Dammit,” Kyungsoo grumbles, and Jongin grins at him.


“My turn, again,” he says happily, and Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, not having realized this was a game they were playing now. “Do you have any pets?”


“No.” Jongin’s face falls so fast that Kyungsoo can’t help but burst out laughing. “I’m guessing you like animals?”


“Mostly just dogs. Do you like dogs?” he asks, staring at him intently.


“Yes, I like dogs,” Kyungsoo assures, and Jongin sighs in relief. “Do you have any pets?”


“Three dogs. Have you seen them?” He picks his phone back up and Kyungsoo sits up straight so that Jongin can show him his lock screen, which is a picture of three little poodles squished into one dog bed.


“They’re cute.” Kyungsoo smiles at him. “I’m sure I must have seen them at some point.” He doesn’t bother mentioning that the fake Jongin must not have been much of a dog person, since he never told Kyungsoo about them properly. But, the real Jongin clearly adores them, and he’s lit up in a way that Kyungsoo hasn’t seen before.


“So this is Jjanggu, and that’s Monggu and Jjangah,” he says, leaning over the gap between their beds so he can point each one out. “And- oh- I’m sorry, I won’t force you to look at dog photos with me.” He quickly sits back down, ducking his head in embarrassment, and Kyungsoo feels a sharp tug at his heart. “Your go.”


“Okay, uh…” Gnawing on his lip, Kyungsoo tries to think, the ache lingering in his chest. He doesn’t want to ask something so unoriginal, but he doesn’t have any other ideas. “What’s it like being a YouTuber?”


Jongin sighs jokingly, as if he gets this question a lot, but he seems to be fine with it. “I don’t think of myself as a YouTuber, honestly. I’m not super popular or anything, so most of the time, I forget that I even have videos on there.” Jongin must notice the confused look on Kyungsoo’s face, because he smiles and tries to explain it again more simply. “It’s like, I’m a school student first, and when I’m not at school, I practice dancing a lot, too, but filming things is something I only do once in a while. It’s cool that people like me enough to follow me, but my life’s just as normal as any other person’s... You seem surprised.”


“I am surprised,” Kyungsoo confesses. From the way the fake Jongin had talked about it, he had YouTube meetings to go to every other day, and there were always secret projects and collaborations that Kyungsoo couldn’t know about. But it makes more sense, now, that those were just more excuses to stop Kyungsoo from seeing the holes in his stories. “I guess I thought it was more of a... full-time thing.”


“I think I’d go crazy if it was.” Jongin admits, chuckling. “I love the dancing part of it, but the vlogging.” He lets out a fake shudder. “My friends made me start doing them, but I suck at it.”


“Yeah, you kind of do.” The comment slips out before Kyungsoo can help himself, and Jongin gawks at him in shock. “I mean- they’re fine, really,” Kyungsoo assures, trying to save the conversation. “It’s just that you’re... Awkward. But only sometimes-” Kyungsoo is quickly cut off by the pillow that’s thrown at his face.


“You’re so mean,” Jongin teases, crossing his arms childishly.


Glaring, Kyungsoo rubs at his nose before he chucks the pillow back at him, and Jongin dives to the foot of the bed, just barely avoiding it. He flashes Kyungsoo a triumphant grin, before bouncing back to his old spot.


“Anyways, it’s your turn,” Kyungsoo grumbles out, crossing his arms, even though his insides feel warm and jittery.


“Hmm…” Jongin taps his finger on his chin, as if he’s pretending to think. “Do you have any siblings?”


“I have an older brother. He’s in the army at the moment, though.”


“Do you miss him?” Jongin asks, curiously.


“Only sometimes. He’s pretty annoying.” Kyungsoo smirks at him. “What about you?”


“I have two older sisters, so we’re both the youngest child,” Jongin announces, grinning. “And they’re annoying, too.”


“Sounds like torture,” Kyungsoo jokes. “Alright, um… How did you get into dancing?”


Instead of answering the question, Jongin tilts his head to the side with a frown. “I thought that most of my fans would already know that.”


“Well, I never said that I was your fan,” Kyungsoo protests, instantly defensive at being called that.


“What? What do you mean?” Jongin asks with another pout.


“Well- it’s-” Kyungsoo racks his brain for a way to get past that subject, but he can’t think of anything. “I hadn’t heard about you until he started talking to me, pretending to be you. And then I wanted to get to know you in real life- not actually in real life, but you know what I mean- like, just from what you- he- said to me and not by looking you up.” He groans, feeling more stupid the more he tries to justify it. “It’s hard to explain.”


“I think that I get it,” Jongin reassures, and Kyungsoo hates the pity he hears in his voice.


“It’s just, the whole time- I didn’t think of myself as one of your fans, I thought that that we were, you know.” He gestures vaguely. “Dating.”


Jongin hums thoughtfully as Kyungsoo rests his head in his hands. “So,” Jongin starts, his tone light again. “How many of my videos have you actually watched?”


“Seriously?” Kyungsoo demands, whipping his head around to glare at him.


“I’m just curious,” Jongin defends, his lips still jutted out.


“Well it’s under ten,” Kyungsoo deadpans, and Jongin gasps, clearly outraged.


“That’s nothing!” he squawks.


“Hey, I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo says sarcastically, trying not to roll his eyes. “But it’s not like it’s my fault.”


“Well then, from now on, I’m making you an honorary fan,” Jongin proclaims. His face is so determined that Kyungsoo snorts.


“What if I don’t want to be?” he challenges, raising an eyebrow.


“You have to!” Jongin is sounding more and more like a petty child, and Kyungsoo can’t believe that he cares so much about getting one more follower. “Because I’m way better than that other guy, and I would never do anything like what he did, so you have to like me more than you like him!”


That comment makes Kyungsoo’s gut twist, and he turns away when he feels his cheeks start to burn up, praying that it’s not too noticeable. “Alright, fine. I’ll be your fan,” he snaps, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice.


“Good,” Jongin states.


“Just- answer the question,” Kyungsoo pleads, his heart still racing.


“Fine.” Trying to lighten the mood, Kyungsoo assumes, Jongin throws the pillow at his head again. Kyungsoo lets it hit him, and he listens to Jongin speak while clutching it tightly to his aching chest, waiting for his nerves to settle again.
 

It’s a good thing that Kyungsoo doesn’t have to help pay for this trip, because Jongdae takes them out to a four-star meal of lobster and dozens of other seafood dishes before sticking it all on a black card. Kyungsoo starts to think that he needs to get himself one of these private investors, too. For most of the dinner, Jongdae rambles on about his wild adventures in high school, most of which Kyungsoo doesn’t believe, anyway, before he tells him and Jongin off for ‘not living their young lives out properly’. Kyungsoo blames his behaviour on the two bottles of soju he ordered.


After lugging a tipsy Jongdae back to the hotel and into his bed, they get back to their unheated room, and Kyungsoo practically collapses on his bed, exhausted and full of fish.


“I’m stuffed,” Jongin complains, kicking off his shoes and flopping on his back, too.


“I never want to eat again,” Kyungsoo groans, and Jongin laughs.


Trying to get comfortable, Kyungsoo shifts on the bed and grabs his phone from where it was digging into his side. He hasn’t checked it since he and Jongin started talking earlier, and he didn’t bother bringing it out with him. Unlocking his screen, he finds that he has two new notifications, one from Chanyeol wondering where he went and the other-


“Oh, shit,” he breathes out.


“Hm?” Jongin asks, but Kyungsoo barely hears.


He has eighteen unread messages from him, and Kyungsoo shuts his eyes, stomach churning sickly. He really doesn’t want to reply, not after he’d been having a good day, not after he’d actually gotten to forget about what was happening tomorrow. But Kyungsoo has to. He needs to act like nothing’s wrong, so that he doesn’t tip him off about anything, and that means he has no excuse to avoid talking to him tonight.


“It’s nothing,” Kyungsoo mutters half-heartedly, before he steels himself and taps on their conversation.


The messages are all worried or frantic, and Kyungsoo swallows, feeling some leftover guilt from all the other times like this. He starts to type out an apology, a fake excuse about being out with his parents, when Jongin speaks up.


“You deserve better than this.” His words are quiet but firm, and Kyungsoo’s heart stops for a split second. He glances over at Jongin, who is giving him a look that Kyungsoo can’t quite work out, but that makes it impossible for him to breathe.


Having to turn away, Kyungsoo fixes his gaze back on his phone, but now he can’t concentrate- the characters on the screen bleeding together in a mess of black. His head feels as if it’s being crushed under a huge weight and he blinks- trying to fix his blurring vision, but he can only focus enough to make out the last text.


please tell me you’re okay… Sent: 20:46


Kyungsoo feels sick throughout his whole body- and there’s no way he can talk right now. He needs water, and his eyes are begging to rest, so he deletes what he’s written and sends something shorter.


i am. just really tired so i’m going to bed. Sent: 21:09


Muting his phone, he drops it on the bedside table and forces himself off the bed, stumbling slightly on his way to the freezing bathroom. Kyungsoo splashes his face with tap water, the cold biting at his cheeks and leaving his hands numb- but it helps him feel slightly better.


Leaning his elbows on the edge of the basin, Kyungsoo lowers his head. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, if it’s what Jongin said or something else that has his body rejecting him, like it's pouring out weeks of stress. For the first time, with shaking fingers, Kyungsoo thinks to himself that he can’t do this much longer, that it isn’t fair to him. He just wants this whole thing to be over, one way or another.


After a drink of water, Kyungsoo straightens up and dries his face on one of the hand towels. He lets out a breath before he steps back out- and almost slams into Jongin’s chest.


“Hey-” Jongin grabs onto Kyungsoo’s arm to steady him. “Are you okay?”


He must have been coming to check on him, Kyungsoo thinks with a stab to his chest. Why does Jongin have to be so nice with him? And would he keep acting like this if Kyungsoo stopped helping?


“Yeah, I- Guess I’m just nervous about tomorrow, that’s all,” Kyungsoo mumbles, not looking up at him, swallowing down the questions.


“Of course,” Jongin says softly. His hand is still resting on Kyungsoo’s arm, warm through Kyungsoo's sweater, and Kyungsoo carefully steps out of his hold and back to the bed. Jongin follows a second after, sitting across from him. “Do you want to talk about it?”


Shaking his head, Kyungsoo lies back down. “I’ll be fine,” he assures.


“Are you sure?” Jongin sounds unconvinced.


“Yeah.”


He doesn’t push it, which Kyungsoo is grateful for. Instead, they decide to turn on the TV, and Jongin flips through the channels until they settle on some action movie that Kyungsoo’s never heard of. He doesn’t pay much attention, but Jongin’s endless complaining about how low-quality it is makes for a good distraction. There’s a question that won’t leave Kyungsoo’s mind, though, and he has to ask it during one of the ad breaks.


“So-” Jongin turns to stare at him, and Kyungsoo hesitates for a second. “Why do you want to catch this guy?”


“Ah… It’s kind of weird to talk about it with you,” Jongin admits, scratching his neck nervously. Kyungsoo just raises an eyebrow, and Jongin ducks his head. “Well. It wasn’t for me- because I’ve seen this kind of thing happen before, but... I got worried when I found out that the people I care about were getting dragged into it.” Kyungsoo’s immediate thought is of Soojung, which bugs him more than it should be allowed to. “So I just want to make sure that this person doesn’t mean them any harm- otherwise I would have left it alone. But, it’s also kind of creepy to see someone pretending to be your family, and friends-”


“And girlfriend.”


Jongin frowns over at him. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says, tone slightly defensive- unless Kyungsoo's imagining it.


“I... thought that she was the one who found out about this.”


“You mean Soojung?” Jongin starts grinning. “We barely dated, and that was years ago, anyway, heaps before I started making videos.”


“Oh.” Great. Now Kyungsoo feels stupid for even bringing it up.


“But we’re still friends, and this happened because of me, so… I have to fix it, for everyone to be safe.” Kyungsoo nods, setting his gaze back on the TV. He gets why it’s important to Jongin, and his heart pangs, knowing that if Kyungsoo backed out now, he’d be the selfish one who was only looking out for himself.


They’re both quiet after that, but the air between them feels heavier than before, and honestly, Kyungsoo would rather be talking than just sitting around and getting worked up about what he should do. Or maybe he just wants to stay in Jongin’s good books as long as he can. Either way, he doesn’t dwell on the reason.


“It’s cold in here,” Kyungsoo complains, hugging his arms to his chest. Sure, he’s just trying to make conversation, but it is actually freezing in this room.


“Really? I’m not cold at all,” Jongin says.


“You must be an alien,” Kyungsoo states, glaring at Jongin’s long-sleeve denim shirt compared to his own three layers of clothing.


“Do you want to turn the heater on?” Jongin offers.


“Please.”


It takes both of them to figure out how to use the air conditioner, and after that, they give up on the movie and start asking each other questions again. They talk about small things for what feels like ages, until Kyungsoo’s forgotten about his problems and his eyes can barely stay open. When they decide that it’s time to sleep, Kyungsoo asks Jongin to set the alarm and buries himself under the covers. Warm and comfortable, Kyungsoo starts to drift off, and the last thing he remembers is feeling the weight of an extra blanket being tucked up to his chin.

✧

Kyungsoo sleeps straight through to the next morning, until he’s woken up by a horrible beeping noise. It takes a moment of grogginess before Kyungsoo can feel that he’s not in his normal bed, and after he vaguely remembers where they are, he realizes that it isn’t his alarm tone playing, either. The noise is coming from the other side of the room, so he groans and flips onto his other side, leaving it to Jongin to deal with.


Kyungsoo didn’t expect that he’d be able to sleep so easily, but now he doesn’t feel tired at all, just gratingly on edge. The blaring noise isn’t helping his nerves, and a few minutes later, when it still hasn’t stopped, he calls out Jongin’s name. He doesn’t answer, and Kyungsoo turns back, annoyed, only to see that Jongin is fast asleep. He’s sprawled out and his legs are all tangled up in his sheets- but what sets Kyungsoo into a panic is the fact that he’s completely shirtless.


With burning hot cheeks, Kyungsoo looks away, hiding his face in his hands and cursing his entire life. The temptation is killing him, though, and he can’t resist not checking him out properly.


Because Jongin is lying on his back, he has the perfect view, and Kyungsoo traces his eyes over his slim, toned body, the faint outline of abs leaving his mouth dry. Jongin has the ideal dancer’s body, and he must know it, since he's doesn’t shy away from showing it off. There’s one of Jongin’s videos that pops into Kyungsoo’s mind: one of his most popular ones, where he does a cover of a famous chair dance, and strips his jacket and shirt off. Kyungsoo’s guilty of watching that clip more than a few times, for not-so-innocent reasons-


And now that’s all he can think of. He almost screams into his pillow from the unfairness of it all, and because he knows he has to get Jongin up- no not like that, motherfucking- Kyungsoo groans at his terrible mind.


Pulling himself out of bed and wrapping the top blanket around his shoulders, Kyungsoo trudges around the other bed and swipes on Jongin’s phone screen to turn the alarm off. He hasn’t seen Jongin budge this whole time, and it’s already 8.09AM. Jongdae’s meeting them in the lobby in half an hour, which has Kyungsoo’s stomach twisting in even more painful knots.


Because he refuses to shake Jongin awake and have to touch his bare skin, Kyungsoo picks his discarded sleeping shirt off of the floor and smacks him on the chest with it. Jongin grunts in pain, slightly shifting to one side before he goes still again.


“Wake up,” Kyungsoo orders, whacking him again.


Jongin finally squints one eye open, looking up at Kyungsoo with sleepiness and anger. “It’s too early,” he mumbles, burying his face into his pillow.


“Come on,” Kyungsoo urges, “we’re running late.”


With a whine, Jongin manages to haul himself up, and Kyungsoo has to look away as he stretches his arms above his head, tightening the muscles in his torso. “But I’m still tired,” he complains.


“Too bad,” Kyungsoo snaps, his eyes still fixed on the wall.


“Why are you so red?” Jongin suddenly asks, and Kyungsoo freezes.


“Nothing, it’s-” He swallows. “It’s hot in here.”


“Then why do you have a blanket on?” Jongin’s tone is playful, but it still claws at Kyungsoo’s chest.


“Just get dressed,” he mutters, flinging the top in Jongin’s direction.


With a sigh, Jongin reaches out for it, and Kyungsoo faces away so he can stiffly fix his own bed. Jongin complains that he’s gonna get changed soon, anyway, which Kyungsoo doesn’t reply to. When he hears Jongin’s moving behind him stop, Kyungsoo doesn’t turn around, even though he’s already smoothed out his sheets five times already. But he feels the blanket being pulled off his shoulders, and he has no choice.


“This is mine,” Jongin says, smiling up at him. He’s still just as shirtless as before, his top just discarded to the side, which Kyungsoo glares at.


Jongin stands up, then, and Kyungsoo automatically steps back, his leg hitting the side of the bed. There’s barely any space left between them and Kyungsoo can barely breathe.


“Does my not wearing a shirt bother you?” Jongin teases lightly, lips curved into an amused smile.


“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kyungsoo bites out, but it doesn’t help that his face is on fire and he can’t look him in the eye.


“Are you sure it doesn’t?”


Just as Jongin takes another step forward, Kyungsoo shoves past him, mumbling an excuse about using the bathroom first. He’s not going to let this suddenly-cocky child make fun of him.


Kyungsoo runs himself a warm shower, closing his eyes and letting the water hit his face as he tries his best not to think about anything, but without Jongin distracting him, it’s finally starting to hit him, what’s about to happen. Resting his head against the cold tiles, Kyungsoo sighs, not knowing how he’s going to get through it.

The meeting is staged in one of the top-rated cafes in Incheon, which is packed with teenagers and businessmen by the time the three of them get there. They’re half an hour early and grab a table by the front door, in plain sight of everything else. Jongdae doesn’t hesitate to start running the plan by them for probably the fiftieth time, and Kyungsoo, who bets he can already recite it word for word, focuses instead on looking around the place. It has a good, youthful vibe to it, he has to admit. The decor is mostly pot plants, and the air is filled with the smells of breakfast that Kyungsoo would normally find delicious, but are just making him want to gag at the moment.


Jongin’s sitting diagonally across from him, and Kyungsoo has felt him staring this whole time. After Kyungsoo had gotten out of the shower, Jongin had switched back to being all shy and worried about him, which Kyungsoo can’t deal well with either. He’s been avoiding making eye contact with Jongin, because he already knows the look he’s giving him, and Kyungsoo feels shitty enough without having pity mixed in with it.


“That’s him,” Jongdae suddenly hisses, and Kyungsoo’s heart collapses.


He’s the only one not facing the door, and he has to turn around to see him, the movement like stabbing needles into his chest.


Byun Baekhyun is short and looks like he’s still in middle school, his ripped jeans and varsity jacket not at all suiting his babyish face. But he’s got an aura about him that Kyungsoo could have sensed from a mile away, just by seeing how he slams open the glass door and strides into the room, his eyes dark and fixed only on Jongin.


There isn’t a doubt in Kyungsoo’s mind that this is not the person he’s been texting. Just to prove it, Baekhyun stops in front of their table, looks over to Kyungsoo for a brief second, before narrowing his eyes at Jongdae and demanding, “Who’s this shrimp?”. Kyungsoo glares up at him. He knows he should be relieved that this guy’s just a random asshole, but he still feels sick to his stomach.


“This is Kyungsoo,” Jongdae introduces. “He won a fan video contest and is also getting to meet Jongin.” The lie sounds natural, just like they’d rehearsed.


“Well, I didn’t realize I had to share,” Baekhyun snaps, pulling out the chair next to Kyungsoo and slumping down in it dramatically. Giving him a dirty look, Baekhyun leans over the table, his elbow propped in front of Kyungsoo so that he’s blocked from Jongin’s view.


“There’s actually a few things that we were wanting to discuss with you today, Baekhyun.” As he says this, Jongdae looks over at Kyungsoo, who just pulls a face. When Jongdae frowns at him, not understanding, Kyungsoo makes an X with his fingers, and jerks his head in Baekhyun’s direction, who’s too busy trying to undress Jongin with his eyes to notice.


Surely you can’t still suspect this moron? is what Kyungsoo wants to hiss at him, but Jongdae presses on anyway. He explains to Baekhyun the situation of the fake accounts in as little detail as possible, just to gauge his reaction, which is as bad as Kyungsoo predicted. Baekhyun has no clue what Jongdae’s talking about, and is just getting more and more pissed about him cutting into his precious time with Jongin.


“Please try and cooperate with us,” Jongdae begs for the third time, his patience quickly wearing down. “This is a serious threat to Jongin’s safety, and if you have any information, or anything to confess, now would be the time.”


“Well, I’ve got nothing to tell,” Baekhyun huffs, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe you dragged me out for this crap. This is not what I was promised.”


Kyungsoo can see the sweat building up on Jongdae’s forehead. “Look, I’m sorry, but this is crucial and we need you to be honest-”


“Honestly, this is bullshit,” Baekhyun snarls. “I had nothing to with any of this crap, and how dare you accuse me of ever trying to hurt Nini!” The nickname almost makes Kyungsoo spit out his water from laughter, but he ends up choking on it instead.


“And yet you stalked him when he has staying in this city, and you send him regular threats via social media for not interacting with you?” Jongdae presses, completely ignoring Kyungsoo who’s quietly spluttering into a tissue.


“I would never do anything to hurt him,” Baekhyun insists, and he turns to Jongin with a soft expression that would seem genuine if he weren’t such an asshole. “And I’d never hide who I was from you.”


Clearly unsettled, Jongin looks over at Kyungsoo, who’s finally stopped coughing. With a light shrug, Kyungsoo tries to smile at him in encouragement, even though secretly, he’s just thinking about how hilarious this whole meeting is. Meanwhile, Jongdae’s rubbing at his temples in complete defeat.


“I think that’s all we have time for,” he sighs out, after the silence has stretched on long enough. “Thank you… Baekhyun. For the insight you’ve provided us with.” Jongdae makes a motion for them all to leave, until Baekhyun cuts in.


“You can’t seriously be going? I haven’t had any time with Jongin!” he whinges, stamping his fist on the table.


“Our train to Seoul will be boarding in the next half-hour, so we don’t have a choice, unfortunately.” That isn’t true. Jongdae hadn’t booked their return ticket just in case they needed more time in Incheon, but it’s fine with Kyungsoo if they’re planning on leaving now, as long as he gets fed.


“This is so fucked up!” Baekhyun barks, and Jongdae immediately throws his arms up in surrender.


“Alright, alright,” he gives in, eyes darting around at the other diners. “I’ll give you guys ten minutes to talk, and that’s it. Come on, Kyungsoo.” Jongdae stands and goes to tap him on the shoulder until Kyungsoo follows his lead, while Jongin is giving him a pleading look that Kyungsoo can only smile pityingly to.


“Will Jongin be alright?” Kyungsoo asks once they’re standing outside, stationed next to the cafe’s heaters, just close enough that they can still see in through the glass walls.


“It’s fine,” Jongdae brushes off. “He can’t do anything in such a crowded place.” Running his hand through his hair, Jongdae sighs. “I really thought that I had him.”


Kyungsoo isn’t sure how to comfort him, so he clears his throat, awkwardly settling for an ‘it’s okay’.


“I guess it’s back to the drawing board once we get home,” Jongdae says, but his smile looks forced.


“You’ll get there,” Kyungsoo promises, even though he’s only half sure of it. Even though there’s nothing to go off now, and they both know that.

The next train to Seoul leaves at 11AM, and they stop by a convenience store on their way to the station to grab food that they don’t have the chance to eat until they’ve boarded. Kyungsoo’s stomach has been rumbling impatiently ever since they left the cafe, and so he scarfs his lunch box bento down in two minutes flat. Satisfied, he leans back in his seat and sneaks a glance at Jongin, who’s sitting next to him just like on the ride over.


After they’d managed to pry Baekhyun off of Jongin’s arm, he’s refused to tell them what Baekhyun had said to him, claiming it was a blur of violent threats, love confessions and perverted fantasies that he wants to forget about as quickly as possible.


But Jongin, who’s ignoring Jongdae’s rambling, seems back to normal now, which Kyungsoo’s relieved about. His tuna sandwich halfway to his mouth, Jongin catches Kyungsoo looking over at him and meets his eyes curiously. Instantly jerking his head away, Kyungsoo clears his throat and bends over, busying his hands by rummaging through his bag. When he senses Jongin turn back around, Kyungsoo lets himself relax, just as his fingers grasp around his phone, which he needed anyway and takes out. The train hasn’t started yet, so he has at least an hour of music to enjoy, which always helps to calm him down-


Except that his phone’s dead. Silently cursing, Kyungsoo holds the power button down again, and gets back the same dull noise. Of course it’s only now that he remembers that he didn’t bother to charge it, or to turn his data off the night before. With a groan, he drops it back in the bag at his feet, and leans against the window, preparing himself for the boring ride ahead. He vaguely registers Jongdae finish running through their next action plan, which is something about him rereading the KakaoTalk conversation, and a moment later, Kyungsoo feels a tap on his thigh.


Jongin’s smiling at him shyly, holding out a pair of earphones. “I saw that your phone died, so, uh- do you want to share with me?”


Kyungsoo blinks at him in surprise, and eventually nods, taking one of the earbuds. “Thanks,” he says softly.


“No problem.” Jongin gives him a blinding grin and shuffles closer, closing the small space between them so that their arms are touching, Jongin radiating warmth, and Kyungsoo’s heart can’t help but beat harder. “What do you normally listen to?” he asks casually, plugging the cord into his phone.


“Um, mostly American pop,” Kyungsoo offers, and he snorts at Jongin’s look of disgust. “Not your style?”


“I don’t like most pop songs,” Jongin states, pouting at him.


“Even though you’re a dancer?” Kyungsoo teases.


“That’s the only time I’ll listen to them,” he huffs.


“Well, what do you listen to?” Kyungsoo asks with a smirk on his lips.


“I like R&B,” Jongin says, turning shy again. “And ballads... Just quiet music in general.”


“I see.” Seeing Jongin’s dejected face, Kyungsoo smiles at him gently. “I like that kind of music too, so you pick the song.”


“Okay,” Jongin reluctantly agrees. It takes forever for him to scroll through his music and finally settle on something, during which time their train starts moving. Jongin eventually picks a G.Soul album after double checking with Kyungsoo, who is more than okay with it.


Soft notes fill his ears and he leans back, letting his eyes close and his body relax, the butterflies in his stomach thrumming quietly as their carriage bumps along. Jongin plays through most of his songs, some that Kyungsoo hasn’t heard before, and some that he knows off by heart.


He’s slipped into his own world and doesn’t even realize that Jongin’s been listening to him singing along until Kyungsoo’s favorite single fades out, and Jongin speaks up.


“You’ve got a really nice voice,” he comments, and Kyungsoo jolts. Smiling at him, Jongin repeats what he said.


“Oh... Thanks,” Kyungsoo mumbles, his face burning up as he looks down at his lap.


“You practice, don’t you?” Jongin asks, turning the volume down on his phone.


All the time, Kyungsoo thinks to himself, but instead settles for humming in agreement.


“It shows. You’re really good.” Jongin pats him on the thigh encouragingly. “You should make your own YouTube channel and do covers,” he suggests, grinning.


“No thanks,” Kyungsoo replies, and when Jongin asks him why, he grimaces. “Too public.”


“But I want to hear you sing,” Jongin pleads, before pouting and batting his eyelashes at him.


Kyungsoo just stares back, hardly believing that this guy thinks that being cute will manage to convince him. It works, though, because Kyungsoo doesn’t know what else could possess him to say the next thing that he blurts out of his mouth. “I already post covers online.”


He doesn’t even have time to regret it before Jongin’s face instantly lights up, and Kyungsoo’s heart throbs in his chest. “Show me!” Jongin exclaims, his eyes twinkling.


“No way,” Kyungsoo deadpans, his voice barely holding together from how uneven his breathing has gotten.


“But that isn’t fair,” he whines. “You get to watch all of my videos, so I should be able to do the same.”


With a shaky sigh, Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. It had taken ages (and a lot of convincing) before he’d let Chanyeol hear his singing, but he knows that Jongin’s going to be even more annoyingly stubborn about it than his friend was. “It’s just a dumb webpage.”


“What’s it called?” Jongin insists, and when Kyungsoo tells him, he smiles. “I’ll remember that.”


“Now drop it,” Kyungsoo huffs, adjusting his earbud and staring resolutely out the window at the distant grey skyscrapers. Jongin gets the hint, obligingly turning the music back up, so that its louder than the sounds of the train.


It takes the length of one song until Kyungsoo’s heart rate has slowed back to normal, and after another two, he’s barely able to keep his eyes from drifting shut. Resting his head against the cold glass, he lets his drowsiness pull him under, too worn down to do anything else.

With one loud rattle of the train, Kyungsoo jolts out of sleep just as easily as he fell in. He has no idea how long he must have been out, but the view has changed and now they’re surrounded by larger crowds of buildings sticking out of the landscape, meaning they must be in Seoul. With a groan, Kyungsoo unsticks his cheek from the window and rubs at his sore eyes.


“We’re almost there,” Jongdae states, giving him an amused smile from above his laptop screen.


Nodding in reply, he waits for Jongdae to turn back to his computer before Kyungsoo glances to his side. Jongin has both earphones in, and looks fully focused on his phone, which Kyungsoo can’t help but sneak a look at. He’s scrolling through some page that looks mostly black, with the occasional white writing that Jongin pauses to read, and it takes a moment before Kyungsoo recognizes the mobile outlay of his site.


Kyungsoo’s first reaction is to punch him in the side, which has Jongin yelping and whipping his head around to frown at him. Maybe Kyungsoo should have gone easier on him.


“Why did you hit me?” Jongin whinges, clutching at his ribs. “I haven’t done anything.”


Kyungsoo just glares at him, trying to draw attention away from his rising blush. Jongin’s scowl suddenly turns into a smile, and he pulls out an earbud.


“I really like this one,” he says, offering to share with Kyungsoo, who’s fuming.


“I’m not going to listen to myself sing,” he snaps.


“Well, you’re missing out,” Jongin teases as he leans back in his seat with a content expression, swaying his head back and forth with the music- Sunday Morning covered on the piano, Kyungsoo sees from squinting at the screen.


With a roll of his eyes, Kyungsoo turns away from him and folds his arms over his chest. He can’t catch a break though, because he can feel somebody staring at him, and he locks eyes with Jongdae, who just raises his eyebrows suggestively at him. Choosing to ignore both of them, Kyungsoo stares out the window for the rest of the ride, trying to blink away the last of his sleepiness.


Their train finally starts to slow down as they pull into Seoul Station, and Kyungsoo zips up his bag, ready for when they can leave. He watches from the corner of his eye as Jongin stretches his arms out, before he wraps his earphone cord around his phone.


“I’m so tired,” he complains, yawning, and Kyungsoo just nods, because he’s exhausted, too.


Even after he slept fine, Kyungsoo can’t wait until later tonight when he gets to collapse in his bed and pass out. He just doesn’t want to think of the things that come before that.


Kyungsoo’s the last one to step off the train, back into the winter breeze, and he slowly trails behind Jongin and Jongdae as they make their way off the crowded platform. From the snippets of their conversation that Kyungsoo can make out over the old IU Christmas song the intercom is playing, Jongdae’s agreeing to give Jongin a lift home. As they step off the escalator and into the open foyer, Jongin turns back to smile at him.


“Do you have a ride home?” he asks, his head tilted to the side.


Before Kyungsoo can make up some excuse, Jongdae’s suddenly exclaiming something and grabbing Jongin by the arm so he can haul him across the hall. Left standing alone, Kyungsoo pauses for a split second, before he awkwardly follows after them.


Jongdae’s making a beeline towards one lone guy, who’s dressed in a neat black suit and seems like he’d be around the same age. To Kyungsoo’s complete shock, Jongdae releases his grip on Jongin to tackle the man in a hug, and Kyungsoo swears that he sees him plant a kiss on the stranger’s cheek.


Honestly, Jongdae is one of the last people in the world that Kyungsoo would have thought wasn’t straight, but he must have been completely wrong, because no one could see the way that the two young men look at each other and deny that they’re in love. Even here, in the middle of these crowds of people that they’d need to hide from, there’s still so much affection between them. And then there’s Jongin standing to the side, pretending to be embarrassed by them even though he can’t stop grinning, like he’s so used to this. The whole scene makes Kyungsoo feel like he’s intruding on something special, and his chest clenches painfully.


Before he can try and leave, Jongdae calls out to him, and Kyungsoo trudges the last few steps up to their group to shake the man’s outstretched hand.


“I’m Kim Joonmyun,” he says, his grip firm and warm. “It’s nice to meet you, Kyungsoo.”


“Nice to meet you,” Kyungsoo repeats numbly.


“Joonmyun’s the one who funded our whole trip,” Jongdae explains, his voice bursting with pride. “So let’s say ‘thank you’, kids!”


With almost synchronized timing, Kyungsoo and Jongin both thank him and bow, though Jongin’s laughing as he does.


“Aren’t they cute together?” Jongdae coos, and Kyungsoo’s heart almost stops in his chest.


“Stop teasing them,” Joonmyun chides, lightly pushing Jongdae’s shoulder. Turning to Kyungsoo, who lifts his eyes from the floor, Joonmyun smiles at him kindly. “Did you need a lift home, Kyungsoo?”


He can feel Jongin turn to look at him, and he clears his dry throat. “I’m fine, thanks.”


“It’s no problem, really,” Joonmyun insists, but Kyungsoo just shakes his head, assuring him that he’s already made plans. It isn’t true, unless catching a bus home counts as a plan- but Kyungsoo would rather be alone right now.


He doesn’t miss the disappointed look on Jongin’s face, though.


They leave in opposite directions, with Jongdae promising to keep him updated, and Kyungsoo giving what he hopes is a convincing smile before he walks off. The bus stop isn’t far from the station, and he doesn’t have to wait in the freezing cold for long before his ride pulls up. It’s a half hour trip to his suburb, and without music, he has way too much time to think.


Staring out the window at the familiar streets, the same crowds, the unending liveliness of Seoul, Kyungsoo feels like everything has changed. Even though he knows that they haven’t, that things have stayed just like how they left them, he feels different. And the closer he gets to home, the less he feels like he can go back.


He takes his time walking the last few streets, as icicles stab into his head and he has his hands clenched tightly in his jacket pockets, his heart is set on what he’s about to do.


Kyungsoo’s parents are out, and the house is deafeningly quiet under the sounds of his blood pounding. Shutting himself in his room, Kyungsoo drops his bag and takes out his phone and charger, plugging them into their normal place.


Then he waits. Sitting hunched over the side of his bed, elbows rested on his knees and his head in his hands, Kyungsoo waits the few moments it takes for the screen to light back up. And before he can lose the courage, the resolve burning in his gut, he picks his phone off the floor and turns it on.


There’s a pause as his notifications load, and Kyungsoo feels so short of breath and dizzy he almost stops himself- but then they come flooding in all at once, and he’s at the top of the list with 57 unread messages.


Kyungsoo doesn’t bother checking any of them, already knowing they’ll be the same as always. Instead, he brings his shaking fingers to the keyboard, and with a flashing thought of Jongin, and that disappointed face that sends a pang of regret through Kyungsoo’s chest- he starts typing.


i’m sick of this Sent: 12:49


The rest comes out easily after that, the fire in his body growing stronger and harsher with every passing second.


i’m not going to keep playing these games of yours. you fucking know that it isn’t fair to me, so just stop. Sent: 12:50


what are you talking about soo????
please please tell me what’s happening Sent: 12:50


Kyungsoo hadn’t expected him to reply straight away, and he almost sneers at the messages, his fingers punching his frustration into each letter.


i know that you’ve been lying to me. just be honest and fess up now. Sent: 12:51


The sudden vibration in his hands startles him- almost making Kyungsoo drop his phone.


“Fuck,” he hisses. Jongdae’s calling him- which means he’s probably reading everything that’s happening. With one tap, Kyungsoo rejects it.


soo i really don’t know what you’re talking about. i just want you to tell me what’s wrong
i’ve been so worried about you Sent: 12:52


bullshit. stop lying to me or i’m never talking to you again Sent: 12:52


A text pops up at the top of Kyungsoo’s screen. It’s Jongdae, yelling at him in capslock to stop what he’s doing or else- and then the message cuts off.


i don’t understand what you’re talking about please let me make it up to you somehow
i love you so much Sent: 12:53


Furious, Kyungsoo yanks at fistfuls of his hair. He wants so desperately to scream at him, to ask why he’s still trying to fuck with him like this.


then prove it. Sent: 12:54


how??? i’ll do anything i promise Sent: 12:54


meet me in person and tell me the truth Sent: 12:55


Everything stops in the room. There’s only Kyungsoo and his heavy breathing and the seconds stretch by, until he finally replies.


ok Sent: 12:56


Kyungsoo blinks at the message, his mind barely processing it. After months of trying, he’s finally gotten what he wanted. Except now, it’s only to put an end to things.


when? Sent: 12:56


whenever you want Sent: 12:56


Except now, Kyungsoo doesn’t even want to see him. He closes his eyes. Logically, he knows he should do it as soon as possible.


tomorrow? Sent: 12:57


ok Sent: 12:57


Since Kyungsoo has no idea where he lives, he forces him to choose the place, which ends up being, of course, a small, well-known cafe in the centre of the city. He’s really starting to hate cafes, and the terrible things that they always mean for him.


They agree to meet at 12AM, and Kyungsoo sends a quick ‘see you there’ before he exits their conversation, hoping he never needs to open it again.


Lying back on his bed, he buries his head in his hands.


He’s never felt so drained, so completely defeated. All he wants is for it to be over, for him to actually show up tomorrow and explain that it was all a joke that went too far so that Kyungsoo is finally allowed to move on with his life.


On his bedside table, his phone starts buzzing, and Kyungsoo can already guess who it is. Turning on his side and unplugging the cord, he presses the speaker to his ear.


“Kyungsoo!” Jongdae blares, the volume of his voice making Kyungsoo wince. “I can’t believe you did that! Do you have any idea how freaked out I was? Or how close I was to shutting you down?”


“Sorry, Jongdae,” he mumbles out.


“No, don’t be! This is huge! No matter what the outcome is, we’re gonna make massive progress now.”


Kyungsoo just grunts in agreement. At least Jongdae’s excited about it.


“I’m just amazed, seriously,” Jongdae continues. “I didn’t think we’d ever get this close to them, but I should have had more faith in you.” His tone is teasing, but the words have Kyungsoo’s stomach twisting in knots. “How did you know that they’d agree to meeting you?”


The honest answer is that he didn’t, not at all. But Kyungsoo can’t tell Jongdae that- and he swallows before pushing the lie past the lump in his throat. “Just had a hunch.”
 

The bell chimes and Kyungsoo’s eyes automatically flick up to watch the new customers walk in. It’s a group of four girls, probably university students, who are quietly giggling about something as they grab a table by the window. With a short sigh, Kyungsoo gulps down a mouthful of water, trying to loosen the knots in his chest. So far, everyone in the cafe is either elderly or is sitting in groups, which isn’t what he’s on the lookout for. Checking his phone again, the time reads 11:51AM, meaning that he’s been sitting still for twenty minutes.


Jongdae had instructed him to wait for an hour from midday to show up- or was it two hours? Honestly, Kyungsoo can barely remember anything that Jongdae had said to him that morning. In his defense, he’s running off of four hours of sleep and no food, since the thought of eating only makes his nausea worse, so he can’t be blamed.


As planned, Jongin and Jongdae are sitting in the back corner booth, far enough that anyone who walked in wouldn’t be able to make out their faces. Kyungsoo doesn’t have that luxury, though, and is right in the middle of the room, almost directly facing the front door. As if that didn’t make him stick out enough, he’s sitting alone and hasn’t ordered anything yet. The waitress had been nice about it at least, but he’s sure it looks weird to the other customers, and that’s just one more thing that has his hands shaking under the table.


It’s 12.05AM, and he’s officially late.


Ten more minutes pass, and each ring of the bell has Kyungsoo’s heart jumping into his throat for nothing.


One person who comes in, a student with messy black hair and headphones hanging around his neck, locks eyes with Kyungsoo for a brief second, and Kyungsoo braces himself for the impact. But a second later, he’s walked straight past him, grinning and calling out to his friends who wave him over to their booth. Kyungsoo turns back to the front and lets out the breath he’d been holding. He doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved, just that he feels sick.


At 12:30AM, he messages him.


where are you?


His phone just lies in front of him, dead still, and he types out another text.


are you coming? Sent: 12:41


Nothing.


Kyungsoo eventually stops expecting a reply, stops expecting anything as the last of his hope is bled dry. He lets the weight on his shoulders drag him further and further down, until he’s slumped over the table, his forehead resting on his arms.


He should have known this would happen.


Hearing scraping across the wooden floor, Kyungsoo just barely looks up enough to see Jongin settling next to him. He drops his head back down, and feels an arm come around him, Jongin’s hand resting between his shoulder blades.


“I’m sorry,” Jongin mutters, his voice just loud enough to make out over the chatter in the cafe. Kyungsoo doesn’t reply, but lets Jongin rub small circles into his back, the touch warm and comforting in spite of everything else. “I’m really sorry” he whispers again, and Kyungsoo can hear the guilt in his tone.


“It’s not your fault,” Kyungsoo promises, hoping that he can hear him from where he is.

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” Jongin says, almost pleading. “It’s been too hard on you already, so just leave it for me and Jongdae to fix-” he suddenly stops when Kyungsoo starts to shake his head.


He lifts himself back up, even though it sends sharp pains shooting through his brain. “I’m not quitting now,” he states, rubbing at his sore temples.


He needs to see this end more than anyone.


Jongin looks like he’s about to say something else, but before he can, Jongdae walks up to their table, stopping in front of them to give Kyungsoo a regretful smile.


“Looks like we’re on to plan B,” he says lightly.

Plan B is basically to confront him again, the same way that Kyungsoo did the day before, and provoke him until he lets more information slip. For the first time, Kyungsoo actually appreciates Jongdae’s idea, because that’s exactly what he wants to do, too.


Straight after dinner and the first food Kyungsoo’s eaten all day, he shuts himself in his room and drops onto the bed. He can practically feel Jongdae hovering over his shoulder, watching every word that he types, but it doesn’t make it at all hard to punch in the message he’s been waiting hours to send.


that’s it. i’m done. Sent: 17:12


He barely has to wait ten seconds for a reply.


wait soo please i’m so sorry
please let me explain Sent: 17:12


where were you? Sent: 17:12


i got caught up in a meeting and i couldn’t come
i’m so sorry Sent: 17:13
please let me make it up to you Sent: 17:14


Kyungsoo’s heart is pounding out of his chest, his anger ready to burst out of him at hearing that same fucking excuse he’s already fallen for countless times. How stupid does this guy think he is?


well you can’t. Sent: 17:14


please i’ll do anything Sent: 17:14


i meant what i said. i’m done. Sent: 17:14


please give me one more chance soo i just can’t see you in person but i’ll do anything else you want me to Sent: 17:15
please Sent: 17:15


why can’t you see me in person? Sent: 17:15


Holding his breath, Kyungsoo types out his next text slowly, carefully.


tell me the real reason. Sent: 17:15


i can’t Sent: 17:17


And that’s it. Kyungsoo lets out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. That was the last chance, and he fucked it up.


then i’m breaking up with you Sent: 17:17


please soo i promise i’ll fix this Sent: 17:17


too late. Sent: 17:18


please Sent: 17:18


Kyungsoo locks his phone, setting it face down on the bed and listening to it buzz over and over as he tries to calm down his heart. Running his hands through his hair, he closes his eyes and lets his head drop.


It isn’t over yet, though. Kyungsoo will have to reply soon and try to get something out of him- but not now. He’s still sending through messages, and Kyungsoo wants just a few minutes to gather his short breaths, to stop the hammering in his head before he has to go back and pretend-


And then the vibrating changes.


His phone goes off in short, stuttered bursts and Kyungsoo swears quietly, shakily. He hadn’t expected him to call, and he doesn’t know whether or not to pick up.


He flips his phone over just as the ‘Missed Call’ notification pops up- only a few moments after it had started ringing. Confused, Kyungsoo brings the screen closer to his face, and he just stares.


He doesn’t know the number. But before he can work out what that could mean, his phone is buzzing again, a private number flashing on the screen.


And Kyungsoo’s heart stops in his chest.


It’s him.


His head spins as he sits there, frozen, letting the call ring until it reaches his voicemail message and cuts out.


Clicking on his phone logs, Kyungsoo mouths out the unfamiliar number digit by digit, before he takes in a slow breath. This could change everything.


He has to tell Jongdae. Barely needing to scroll down, Kyungsoo finds his name and- hastily rejecting the next private call as soon as it pops up- he phones Jongdae who answers after the first ring.


“Kyungsoo?”


“Jongdae- I- his number-” all the words he needs to say are tumbling out together and Kyungsoo pauses for a second to breathe. “I think I got his number,” he rasps out.


“Wait, what do you mean?”


“A-a number called me and then hung up after a few seconds and he started calling on the private number again.”


“And you think that was him?” Jongdae asks, his tone careful.


“Yes,” Kyungsoo hisses out. “Who else could it have been?”


“Okay, okay, Jongin-” Fuck, Kyungsoo thinks, his heart lurching. He had no idea that Jongin was there as well. “Jongin write it down. Kyungsoo, what’s the number?”


There isn’t time for him to worry about it, instead he scrambles to read the digits out, Jongdae double checking and triple checking to make sure they’ve gotten it right.


“Okay, you let me take it from here, Kyungsoo,” Jongdae insists, rushing his words. “Don’t say anything else to them. I’ll sort it out and then I’ll decide when to contact them, so you can just relax, alright?”


How the hell is he supposed to relax right now, is what Kyungsoo wants to ask, but he doesn’t. “Alright,” he agrees.


“I’ll be in touch,” Jongdae promises, and then he hangs up, leaving Kyungsoo in the silence of his room.


He lies down, the pounding in his head slowly fading to a dull ache. Kyungsoo knows that Jongdae will be able to handle it, since phone tracking is probably half his job- but now all he can do is wait, and he’s so sick of being helpless.


After a few minutes of useless Internet browsing, Kyungsoo gives up on trying to distract himself, feeling the panic burrow deeper and deeper into his skin until he finally manages to sleep.

✧

It takes Jongdae three days to gather all the information he needs, and if it weren’t for the fact that Kyungsoo’s barely been keeping it together, he would actually be impressed. In that time, Jongdae manages to trace the number, find his address, stake out the area, and develop an entire profile about the most likely suspect out of the three residents of the house that Kyungsoo has refused to even glance at.


Chanyeol’s been trying to keep his mind off things, dragging Kyungsoo out each day to help with his last-minute present-buying. Shopping centres and large mobs of angry people are both surefire ways to ruin Kyungsoo’s mood, but he’d take that over locking himself in his room and pacing until Jongdae sends him the next hourly update.


On the third night since Kyungsoo last talked to him, Jongdae calls, informing Kyungsoo that he’s confirmed the whole thing and that they’re going to meet in his home the following morning. Jongdae gives him the choice, and despite the fact that Kyungsoo feels like vomiting up his dinner at the thought, he can’t not agree to go with him and Jongin.


Now, Kyungsoo is sitting in his living room, ready to die from the searing pain in his chest as he waits for Jongdae’s car to pull into the driveway. He doesn’t know if this is worse than if he’d made his own way over, but Jongdae had insisted that they pick him up without leaving him a choice about it.


A car beep startles him out of his messed up thoughts, and with unstable legs, he shuffles out the front door. As he makes his way up to the expensive-looking vehicle, Jongin gets out of the passenger’s side and tries to give him a smile that just looks unconvincing.


“Hey,” he says weakly, before he opens the back door for Kyungsoo. “Are you alright?”


There’s no point in lying. The eye bags from barely sleeping for days and the pale, ghostly skin that had stared back at Kyungsoo from the mirror that morning are a definite give-away. “Not really,” Kyungsoo mutters, sliding past him and into his seat, locking eyes with Jongdae in the rearview mirror.


“Do you mind if I sit with you?” Jongin quietly asks, and Kyungsoo just nods, turning his gaze to his lap as he hears Jongin close doors and buckle himself in the seat across from him.


The drive is silent for about one minute, until Jongdae awkwardly announces he’s turning on the radio. Kyungsoo, who’s heart is still raging in his chest, spends the ride staring out the window, his cheek pressed to the coldness of the glass as he lets the droning of the news report block out any of his other thoughts.


At some point, he feels the soft brush of fingers on his clenched fist, and he looks down to see Jongin’s hand resting on his own. Kyungsoo relaxes, his fingernails no longer digging into his palm as he lets his hand go limp in his lap. Jongin’s touch stays for the rest of the trip, giving Kyungsoo small squeezes here and there, which are the only things helping him through the boiling in his blood.


Kyungsoo doesn’t know where exactly they’re headed, and his urge to scream only gets worse as they peel off the highway and into the suburban area, passing countless houses that could each be the one they’re looking for- but Kyungsoo still can’t bring himself to ask or do anything except ride through every wave of sickness.


He doesn’t need to, though, because Jongdae soon informs him that they’re almost there, and Kyungsoo’s nerves are sent into overdrive- his inhales becoming jagged and his vision spotting.


“Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispers, his grip tightening on Kyungsoo’s hand, who shakes his head.


His eyes squeezed shut, Kyungsoo doesn’t answer, just turns his palm over and clutches hard onto Jongin. He feels the car pull to a stop and his chest collapses. It’s all too much- too much for anyone to handle and Kyungsoo swears he’s about to pass out as Jongin opens his door and wraps an arm around his waist, helping him to walk up the driveway and brick steps that lead to the front porch.


“Alright, just follow my lead,” Jongdae murmurs back to them, the words barely heard over the pounding in Kyungsoo’s ears.


Jongin still has a hand on his side, holding him up as Jongdae strides up to the door and rings the bell- each note a stab to Kyungsoo’s chest.


A deafening silence follows.


Kyungsoo’s shaking in the wind- and he wants nothing more than to bolt down the driveway and never turn back, or to hide behind Jongin and bury his face in his jumper until it’s all over- but he stands his ground.


The seconds stretch by with no movement from inside, and Kyungsoo feels the hand on his waist grow stiffer.


“I told him what time we were coming,” Jongdae says, frowning. He steps up to the door and raps his knuckles on the wood. “Hello? This is Kim Jongdae, private investigator,” he calls out. “We talked on the phone earlier and I’m here to ask you a few questions, so I’d appreciate it if you would open the door and let me and my associates in.”


“He’s not going to answer,” Jongin snaps a second later, marching past Jongdae and banging his fist loudly enough that it startles Kyungsoo, his heart jumping into his throat. “Oi, open up! Let-” his yells are muffled by Jongdae’s hand clasping over his mouth.


“Stop talking, you’ll ruin everything!” he hisses, forcing him back from the door and shoving Kyungsoo in the process. His knees buckling, Kyungsoo falls to the side- grabbing onto the railing to keep himself up.


“Well, waiting around isn’t going to speed things up,” Jongin spits out, breaking out of Jongdae’s hold and starting to pace the length of the porch.


Bowing his head, Kyungsoo lets his eyes fall shut. Now facing the wind, the cold claws at his face, and Kyungsoo's fingers grow numb as they clasp onto the cold wood, his chest having already lost any feeling.


It could be hours before Jongdae knocks again, asking if anyone is home.


Kyungsoo watches his breath even out into puffs of mist, his eyes stinging, and he doesn’t know when he starts to cry, the warm tears sliding down his cheeks until they turn icy.


“We’ve been waiting for twenty minutes,” he hears Jongdae sigh out behind him. “He’s probably not even home.” Kyungsoo doesn’t believe that. “It’s too cold out here so let’s drive somewhere and come back later. Kyungsoo?” Jongdae places a hand on his shoulder but Kyungsoo doesn’t move. “How does that sound?”


Kyungsoo shakes his head the smallest amount. He’s not going to let them draw this out. Wiping his wet nose and cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket, Kyungsoo stands up straight. He lets his feet carry him to the door in leaden steps, and he stops- taking a quiet breath. Raising a stiff hand to the wood, he pauses for one last moment before he knocks. “Hey,” he says, his voice steady. “It’s me.” Kyungsoo hears the scuffing of something behind the wall and he swallows thickly. “Can we talk?”


A latch clicks.


Before Kyungsoo can start to back away, the door in front of him opens, and he looks up to meet the sad gaze of a boy his age. Kyungsoo stares, his heart torn in half, breath frozen in his lungs. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting- but it wasn’t for his eyes to be red and swollen behind his thick, black glasses.


“Oh Sehun?” Jongdae calls out, stepping up to stand by Kyungsoo. “May we speak to you?”


Sehun gives Kyungsoo one last pained look before he steps aside to let them through, Jongdae entering first before a hand gently pushes Kyungsoo inside.


It’s a pretty average house- not modern or too traditional, but neatly decorated, with a bunch of family photos hanging along the length of the hallway that Kyungsoo can’t help but look at, finally getting a glimpse into his life. They seem to travel a lot, and there’s pictures of him and his older brother in Paris, London, Tokyo, even that temple in Incheon.


Sehun leads them into his living room, where there’s a Christmas tree set up in the corner, and neatly wrapped gifts underneath. Making himself at home, Jongdae settles down on one of the white couches with a satisfied sigh, motioning for Kyungsoo and Jongin to join him. Hesitantly, Kyungsoo sinks into the cushions, his side digging into the armrest when Jongin is sandwiched in next to him.


On the other side of the coffee table, Sehun faces them, his black fringe hiding his glasses, and Kyungsoo notes the way he sits, his shoulders hunched over and his hands squished under his thighs. He looks like a small child, regretful, vulnerable, out of place in his perfectly set out home, but Kyungsoo still doesn’t feel sorry for him.


“Well,” Jongdae starts, clapping his hands together. “I think there’s a lot to cover today, so let’s get started.” Grabbing a notepad and pen recorder out of his briefcase, Jongdae flips to a new page and starts to write, pen scribbles filling the tense, heated air. “Oh Sehun, 17 years old, student, correct?” Sehun vaguely nods, his eyes still down. “I’m going to be recording this conversation for future reference if that’s alright with you.” Another nod. “And Jongin and Kyungsoo here were wanting to listen as well, unless you’d rather it was just us two?”


Kyungsoo catches Sehun look up for the smallest second, before he shakes his head. “No, they should stay,” he says weakly, voice a small thrum, and it’s so unnatural for Kyungsoo to hear him speak without static surrounding it.


“So, would you mind telling us about when and why you initially created the fake accounts?” Jongdae asks, voice filled with curiously.


The silence presses down on the room until Sehun finally takes a long breath in, his head dropping impossibly low. “I made the first account a month before we started talking- and-” his words crack. “I wanted it to look real, so I copied all his photos from Instagram, but- then it still wasn’t convincing enough, so I had to make the other accounts too, and make them all talk.”


“So, you wanted strangers to believe that the fake accounts were the originals?” Jongdae clarifies.


Sehun just shakes his head. “Not strangers,” he murmurs, Kyungsoo only able to hear because the room is deathly silent.


“Then what was the purpose of making the accounts?” Jongdae questions.


“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Sehun blurts out suddenly. “I just wanted to talk to him and i-it just got out of hand and then I couldn’t tell the truth and ruin everything and hurt him-”


“Sehun, slow down,” Jongdae urges, and Kyungsoo’s heart has started thumping in his chest, again. “Tell us why you did it.”


“For Kyungsoo,” he whispers, and Kyungsoo swallows, his mouth dry. He can’t look at Sehun, anymore, and turns his gaze down, focusing instead on the agitated tapping of Jongin’s fingers on his thigh.


“Could you elaborate on that?” Jongdae asks.


“I found- I found his songs one day, and I wanted to talk to him.” Sehun sighs, his breath shaking. “I wanted him to like me, so I thought that if I used someone else- someone who looked nice- that he would. I made an account with someone’s photos that I’d found online, but… It didn’t look real enough, so I looked the person up- a-and it was.. Kai, and I copied his photos and tried- pretended to be him and everyone else. I’m so sorry- to him as well.”


Jongin barely reacts, except for his fingers curling into a tight ball in his lap.


“So, your only intention was to talk to Kyungsoo, and you hid behind a fake identity to do so?” Jongdae asks, and he sounds slightly surprised. Kyungsoo is too, honestly, unsure how to feel except for hollow.


“Yes,” Sehun breathes out and he finally raises his eyes to look at Kyungsoo, who stares back, expressionless. “I really didn’t want to hurt you, I just wanted- I don’t know- I just really liked talking to you but I’m so, so-” his voice breaks again from being strained so thin. “So sorry… I really wanted to see you, every time, especially the last one- I wanted to tell you everything- but I just couldn’t ruin what we had.”


It was ruined a long time ago for Kyungsoo, but he doesn’t say that. He knows, just by Sehun’s pleading and the glassiness of his eyes, that he means every word.


No matter what else he’d lied about, Kyungsoo can still see that same person that he’s talked to for hours on end in front of him right now, and that’s enough.


“I forgive you,” Kyungsoo says, looking straight at him.


Sehun bows his head, a small sob wracking his body.


Leaning over the table, Jongdae hands Sehun a small packet of tissues, which he accepts, his tears now streaming freely down his cheeks. “We’ll give you a minute, Sehun,” Jongdae offers, his eyes filled with pity. It’s the complete opposite of Jongin, who sits back with his arms crossed, silently fuming for no reason that Kyungsoo can think of.


For Kyungsoo, though, there’s no anger or love left in his heart, only the cold seeping back in from outside, and that’s how he’s going to end it. The rest is just formalities: deleting accounts and documenting things which Jongdae can handle on his own.


“Jongdae, I’m going to go home,” Kyungsoo says quietly, and he feels Jongin stiffen beside him.


Clearly confused, Jongdae blinks at him, before eventually nodding. “I’ll call you later, then,” he promises.


Kyungsoo stands up, taking a second to look over at Sehun, who’s eyes are hidden behind a tissue. “Bye, Sehun,” he says, and Sehun looks up at him one last time, his face puffed and red, forcing out a tiny smile that Kyungsoo can barely return.


With a quick glance at Jongin, who’s eyes are down, Kyungsoo turns and walks out the room, his steps growing lighter and lighter as he walks back down the hallway and out of the front door of the unfamiliar house. Breathing in the winter air, filling both his lungs up with it, Kyungsoo places a hand on the railing and lifts his head to the sky.


It’s a weird feeling, being done with it. Somehow it doesn't feel real, like Kyungsoo's only watching from up there, high in the clouds, down at this silent dream. But he knows he's still awake, and there's nothing stopping him from holding his shoulders back, anymore, the tenseness in his muscles gone and the rest over with. Now, he has no need to talk to Sehun, or see Jongdae, or Jongin - the thought of which leaves a dull ache in Kyungsoo’s throat that he swallows around. Things are going to be fine, though, he tells himself. It'll be back to normal life, whatever that is, the other problems he's let pile up waiting for him at home to deal with, but maybe not right away. Stepping down the stairs, Kyungsoo shoves his hands in his pockets, grown used to the cold and not dreading the walk to wherever he's going next.


“Hey.”


Turning back, he sees Jongin standing on the porch, out of breath like he’d come running out.


“Hey,” Kyungsoo repeats, surprised, and Jongin still looks pissed off, but also hesitant in the way he scratches his neck and gestures at him.


“Want some company?” he mumbles.


“Sure.”


As Jongin trudges down the stairs, still sulking with his arms crossed over his chest as he falls into step with him, Kyungsoo feels a tiny smile tug at his lips. He can't keep them both out in the cold, so he looks up the nearest bus stop on his phone, before asking Jongin which routes go through his suburb.


“Let’s get you home first,” Jongin says curtly.


Kyungsoo snorts. “Alright.”


There’s only a few streets to walk down, and it’s silent most of the way. They’re close enough that Kyungsoo keeps bumping into his side, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose, trying to get that grimace off Jongin’s face.


“Are you still angry at him?” Kyungsoo eventually asks.


“Of course I am,” Jongin grumbles out. “I don’t know why you’re not.”


Kyungsoo takes a moment to think, eyes above the suburban buildings ahead, before he shrugs. “There’s no reason for me to be mad,” he explains. “He told me the truth and apologized, so-”


“But he treated you like shit-” Jongin cuts in. “And I’m pissed off for you.”


Shaking his head, Kyungsoo smiles at him. He’s kind of flattered, if he’s honest. “Don’t be, seriously. You can be mad for your own reasons, but don’t worry about me.”


And Kyungsoo swears he hears Jongin mutter something about not caring about his own things before he falls quiet again.


They don’t have long to wait for the bus, and Kyungsoo gets on first, finding an empty seat near the back that Jongin slides into after him. Kyungsoo’s exhaustion from the last four nights is finally catching up to him, and he sighs in relief at finally being able to relax, to properly relax, and let his whole body sink into the cushions.


“Do you have music?” he asks Jongin, who is still clearly tensed up.


Instead of answering, Jongin silently takes out his phone and earbuds and hands them to Kyungsoo, who furrows his eyebrows at him.


“I picked last time,” is all Jongin says.


Kyungsoo takes the hint, starting to scroll through Jongin’s artists. Calmly ignoring the ‘Do Kyungsoo’ folder, he clicks on the next option: DBSK. Outraged by the lack of songs, he purses his lips but doesn’t bother saying anything. They’re only twenty minutes away from the interchange, anyway, so there’ll be enough to listen to until then.


Fitting in his earbud and waiting until Jongin’s done the same, Kyungsoo turns on shuffle and looks over to gauge his reaction. Jongin’s face is still grim and Kyungsoo can’t help but roll his eyes.


Of course, all the songs are ballads, and it isn’t long before Kyungsoo’s eyes are drifting shut from the soft notes, his head lulling to the side to rest on Jongin’s shoulder. He doesn’t know when he got this comfortable with Jongin, but it feels natural when Jongin shifts towards him, letting Kyungsoo settle in more closely, the top of his head pressed to Jongin's neck.


Kyungsoo doesn’t fall asleep, but he keeps his eyes closed, his heart starting to beat a little too fast when Jongin places a hand on his knee.


They stay like that until Jongin pokes him in the side to signal that they’ve reached their stop. Straightening up, Kyungsoo rubs at his eyes before he turns to glare at him- but Jongin, that brat, is finally smiling at him again, and despite his best efforts, Kyungsoo can’t help but grin back.


There’s still another bus to get to Kyungsoo’s side of town, one that he’s caught hundreds of times before. They spend the ride talking about Christmas, mostly to complain about their relatives and whatever weird traditions they have for the holiday. Jongin tells him about last year, when he got more presents for his dogs than for his parents and Kyungsoo’s in stitches from laughing so hard- until the person in front turns around and shushes them. Kyungsoo bows down, apologizing before he buries his face in Jongin’s shoulder to muffle the rest of his chuckles, and Jongin finishes whispering the story to him.


Even though it’s only a ten minute walk from the stop, Jongin stays with him the last of the way. He still hasn’t made any plans about getting home, and normally, Kyungsoo would insist that he wait at the opposite stop until the next bus can pick him up. But he doesn’t say anything, because Kyungsoo still doesn’t know if they’ll ever talk again, and he wants those last few minutes together more than he can admit.


“This one’s my house,” Kyungsoo says, gesturing to the most plain-looking one on the block.


Jongin hums, stopping in the middle of the driveway just as Kyungsoo does. For one second, Kyungsoo debates inviting him inside, but he can’t think of a reason to, so instead they’re left standing in the freezing wind, awkwardly shuffling their feet on the concrete.


“Hey,” Jongin starts, his eyes down as he bites on his bottom lip. “Can I have your phone for a second?”


“Uh- sure.” Kyungsoo grabs it out of his jean pocket, unlocking the screen before he passes it over. Jongin’s shaking as he types, and Kyungsoo assumes it’s just from the cold finally getting to him.


“Here,” Jongin says softly, handing it back over, his fingers warm when they brush over Kyungsoo’s. “I saved my number, so I- I hope that’s okay.”


It’s more than okay, but instead of saying that, Kyungsoo sighs, looking at his phone sadly. “How do I know it’s not another fake one?”


“What- of course it isn’t!” Jongin defends. “Why would I do that to you after everything that just- oh, you’re joking,” he realizes, his speech cut short after seeing the devilish grin on Kyungsoo’s face.


“Of course I am.”


“Hmph,” Jongin frowns at him. “Let me change something, then,” he states, grabbing the phone back.


Kyungsoo can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes when he sees the words ‘The Real Kim Jongin! ♡’ saved above the new contact details. “Thank you,” he says sarcastically, but his smile gives him away.


“You can text me if you want to talk about, well, anything.” Jongin looks so shy, his cheeks dusted red, and Kyungsoo feels his heart swell in his chest.


“Thank you. Jongin,” he says softly.


As they both stand there with their heads ducked, blushing, no one makes a move to leave. Kyungsoo figures that Jongin won’t be the one to budge, so he forces himself to break the silence, saying goodbye and walking up to his front step. He gives Jongin one last wave, who grins back at him just as Kyungsoo shuts himself inside and tries to catch his breath, again, but with the smile still lingering.

The next week flies by in a blur of food and presents. As per usual, Kyungsoo gets swept up in his parents’ Christmas plans, having to attend church and drive around Seoul visiting countless relatives that he feels excruciatingly awkward around. Considering that he can’t tell his very conservative family about the things that have been happening in his life over the past few months, or his lack of uni decision, he has nothing much to talk about and prefers to stay quiet.


He’s been thinking about Jongin lately - a lot. Kyungsoo hasn’t found many chances to talk to him, since he’s either been busy or too awkward to strike up a conversation about nothing. But with a bit of courage, he did wish Jongin a merry Christmas, and got back a nice reply and a picture of his dogs wearing their new winter sweaters. Since then, though, Kyungsoo hasn’t worked up the courage to text him again, and after watching Jongin’s Christmas vlog, he’s been left with a weird emptiness in his chest.


It’s the first week of January, and Kyungsoo’s moping on his bed, again. He’s reached a breaking point where he’s forcing himself not to rewatch Jongin’s old vlogs for the third time and to actually think of something- anything- to text him. It’s impossible, though, and Kyungsoo’s almost given up for the day when his phone suddenly buzzes.


Hey~ how are you? 14:54


Speak of the devil. Drawing in a deep breath, Kyungsoo tries to ignore the clenching of his heart, or the way it beats after when he's sets his phone back down. He’s going to wait a few minutes before he replies, but before he’s even had time to recover from the first text, Jongin sends another.


So it’s my birthday next week and you should buy me dinner or something lol 14:55


Kyungsoo curses out loud- it had completely slipped his mind that Jongin’s birthday would still be in January, like Sehun had said. Actually, that reminds Kyungsoo that he had never told Jongin that his is two days before. Biting on his lip, he starts to tap at the keyboard when his phone vibrates in his hands.


I’m sorry Kyungsoo! That was Taemin please ignore him! 14:56


It takes a moment of Kyungsoo frowning at the new message before it clicks. Now that he’s rereading that last text, it definitely does seem too forward for Jongin to have written on his own. The fact that Taemin’s even there gives Kyungsoo a lot to think about, but right now, he can’t resist messing with Jongin a bit. With a smirk playing at his lips, Kyungsoo types out a new reply.


so you don’t want me to buy you dinner? 14:57


No no that’s not what I meant! Just if you didn’t want to then please don’t feel like you have no choice! 14:48


you know, my birthday’s on the 12th of january, and i’m a year older than you. so shouldn’t you buy me a meal instead? 14:48


Kyungsoo’s heart is racing as he waits for Jongin to answer. But he suddenly remembers something, and suggests that instead.


actually my friend’s throwing me a birthday party if you want to come. there’ll be cake and video games and maybe beer. 14:49


It’s a tradition that Chanyeol organises Kyungsoo’s birthday event every year. Chanyeol says that it's so Kyungsoo doesn’t have to bother, but they both know that Chanyeol mostly does it because he just likes having people over. After he invites all the guys from school that Kyungsoo actually gets along with, he’ll always bring along his huge football friends who call Kyungsoo ‘Kwangsoo’ for the whole day and devour all the appetizers. Honestly, Kyungsoo doesn’t mind that much, because they draw the attention off of him. And they sometimes bring free alcohol.


Kyungsoo figures that it might be better to see Jongin in a more casual way than by having dinner just the two of them. If that’s for his sake or Jongin’s, he doesn’t know.


Sounds fun! Just text me the details and I’ll be there! 14:50


Smiling, Kyungsoo passes on Chanyeol’s address and the time that his friend had insisted on, and Jongin replies a second later.


Awesome, see you there! :) 14:52


Kyungsoo sends his own ‘see you there’, adding on a squiggle and keke at the end because he’s been told that his texting always sounds too angry, and he bets Jongin is sensitive to that kind of thing.


Letting out a sigh afterwards, Kyungsoo sinks back in his bed. His stomach is twisted in knots just from thinking about seeing Jongin again. At the same time, though, he feels way more relieved than he did before they started texting. He doesn’t know which sign is worse.


Before Kyungsoo can exit out of his SMSs, a thought crosses his mind, and he figures that there’s someone else he should invite, to try and end things on a better note.

When Kyungsoo steps into Chanyeol’s house, barely on time for his own party, he has to admit that Chanyeol’s done a pretty decent job for once. The whole living room floor in front of the TV is covered in bean bag chairs and pillows, and the connected dining room has two tables worth of snacks and soft drink cans that Kyungsoo doesn’t hesitate to dig into. Chanyeol had even bothered to blow up half a dozen balloons and scatter them around the floor, which is a new level of dedication from him.


“I’m actually impressed,” Kyungsoo praises, clapping his friend on the back as he helps himself to two different kinds of chips. He’s got to eat what he can before the guests arrive.


“Yeah, I knew you would be,” Chanyeol says proudly, beaming back at him. “Only the best for my Kyungsoo’s special day.”


“My birthday was three days ago.”


“And I spoilt you then as well,” Chanyeol reminds with a wiggle of his eyebrows.


Kyungsoo stares at him blankly. He can’t argue with that, considering that he’s got VIP tickets to Girls’ Generation sitting on his desk at home.


“Fine,” Kyungsoo grumbles.


Grinning, Chanyeol starts to say something that gets interrupted by the front door banging open. “Oh man, here we go,” he jokes, taking a step back.


“HAPPY BIRTHDAY KYUNGSOO,” comes roaring from several mouths at once, and Kyungsoo barely has time to prepare himself before Hongbin, Jaehwan, and Hakyeon burst into the room and tackle him into a group hug.


“Okay, thanks guys,” Kyungsoo wheezes out, trying to extract himself from their death grip. Chanyeol doesn’t help him at all, and Kyungsoo glares at his amused expression.


More people start to show up soon after, giving Kyungsoo the obligatory birthday wishes before they get sucked into Chanyeol’s Mario Kart tournament.


Kyungsoo doesn’t bother joining in - he knows from years of experience that no one can beat Chanyeol at this game. Instead, he sits on the couch that’s propped against the living room wall, trying to have a conversation with Hyunsik about music degrees over everyone else’s yelling. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the front door open and his breath hitches like it has for the last five times. It’s only Sanghyuk though, but to Kyungsoo’s surprise, he’s dragging in a very resistant Sehun.


Promising to catch up with Hyunsik later, Kyungsoo gets up and carefully makes his way around the sea of people and pillows to get to them.


“Hey, happy 18th, Kyungsoo,” Sanghyuk greets, thumping him on the back with a smile. “I found this guy waiting outside and forced him to come in. You’re welcome,” he says to Sehun, who’s very obviously uncomfortable.


“Thanks, Hyuk. I got it.” Kyungsoo ushers him in and Hakyeon immediately hauls Sanghyuk onto his beanbag despite his complaints. “How are you?” Kyungsoo asks, turning back to Sehun.


He looks nice today, Kyungsoo thinks. Sehun doesn’t have his glasses on this time, and he’s wearing a grey turtleneck that suits how tall he is, though you couldn't tell from how much he hunches.


“Oh- g-good,” Sehun splutters, blushing furiously and ducking his head. “Um, here.” Kyungsoo takes the plastic bag that Sehun holds out to him, seeing a glimpse of his favourite type of shrimp crackers inside. “I thought that- you wouldn’t want anything but I got you some snacks. So.. happy birthday.”


“It’s alright, you didn’t have to.”


“No, I did,” Sehun insists, finally meeting his eyes, and his face is splotched with bright red. “I owe you a lot more after... everything that I did.”


Chanyeol’s loud laugh cuts into their conversation and Kyungsoo sighs. “Let’s go talk somewhere more quiet,” he says, leading Sehun through to the empty kitchen.


The noises muffled behind the shut door, Kyungsoo sets the bag down and leans against the counter. Sehun stands in front of him, his hands behind his back, and Kyungsoo bites on his lip. It’s been bugging him for a while, and he figures he should just suck up his pride and apologize, so that there’s no hard feelings left between them. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, too. About leaving early that day... I should have tried to comfort you.”


Sehun shakes his head. “No- it’s okay. I don’t blame you for going, really.” He sounds so genuine. “Please don’t apologize... I have a lot more to be sorry about,” he mutters, his gaze dropping to the floor.


“Don’t worry about it too much. It’s in the past now, anyway,” Kyungsoo assures, and Sehun’s whole face lights up.


“I’m really glad you invited me here, today. I haven’t been to many parties before so I’m really thankful,” he says shyly.


“Yeah, me neither. This was all Chanyeol’s doing and I just had to show up.” Sehun chuckles quietly and Kyungsoo can’t help but smile. “And don’t be too scared of the people here, they’re all nice. Loud and annoying, but nice.”


Sehun nods enthusiastically. “I’ve always really wanted to meet your friends,” he tells him, but it feels off. The words are too casual, or too close to how things were before, and it makes Kyungsoo swallow.


“Then, should we go?” he asks quietly, gesturing to the door.


“Wait- there’s just one more thing I wanted to tell you.” Kyungsoo stays where he is, watching as Sehun licks his lips nervously. “I just- need you to know that… I never lied to you- about how I felt, I mean. From the beginning, all I wanted was to be with you, and I need you to know that I think that you’re so perfect and- you made me really happy, every day, and if I was ever sad it was because I was scared of losing you.” Their eyes meet, and Sehun tries to smile. “I really loved you, Soo, and…” The words hang in the air between them, I still do. “And I hope I can fix things.”


Kyungsoo finally breathes in again, squeezing his eyes shut. This isn’t what he expected to hear, and he sighs. He doesn’t want to have to do this- but there’s no choice. “Sehun… I-” he swallows, his words stuck in the back of his throat. “I thought that I loved you, too. But, now I don’t know if the things I felt were actually you or…” He groans. This isn’t coming out right. “I don’t know how it feels on your side but our entire… relationship started out from lies, and you couldn’t- no one could fall in love like that.” Kyungsoo can’t bear to look at his face. “I’ve forgiven you, I swear I have, but I’m never going to forget that, and it isn’t something we can get over, or that I’ll get over.” This is too harsh, and Kyungsoo feels like shit, wishing he could take it back and start again- to just not say anything this time. “If you want, I can be your friend, but... That’s all I can be.”


“I get it,” Sehun whispers, his voice weak and croaky. The guilt clawing at Kyungsoo's chest, he just nods, the noisiness from outside spilling into the kitchen as they stand there in silence. Eventually, Sehun looks at him, and his eyes are watery but he still smiles. “Then let’s be friends.”


And Kyungsoo smiles back, just a bit. “That sounds good,” he says, relief filling his entire body and finally letting him breathe.


The sound of the door opening makes Kyungsoo turn his head- and his heart twists when Jongin walks in, Chanyeol following close behind. Jongin stops in his tracks as soon as he sees Sehun, his expression turning dark.


Squeezing past Jongin and in the middle of the two of them, Chanyeol starts smiling creepily at everyone, like he always does when he feels awkward. “Well, what’s happening in here?” he asks, trying to break up the tension in the room. He meets Kyungsoo’s gaze and gives him a wide-eyed look as if to say ‘you didn’t tell me that either of these people were coming’. In Kyungsoo’s defense, he didn’t think that it would be important, and he’d completely forgotten about Jongin’s unnecessary hatred of Sehun.


“Can I talk to Kyungsoo in private?” Jongin asks curtly. Kyungsoo has no idea who he’s talking to, but Jongin doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing Kyungsoo by the wrist and marching them both out the room and down the hallway.


“Kyungsoo!” Hakyeon calls out from the living room. “You didn’t tell me that you knew Kai-”


Since Jongin clearly doesn’t know where to go once they reach the end of the corridor, Kyungsoo opens the door to Chanyeol’s chaotic bedroom and shuts them in, blocking out the last of Hakyeon’s fangirling.


It’s silent for a moment, both of them standing around uncomfortably until Kyungsoo decides to make the first move.


“You’re late,” he scolds, and Jongin finally starts to smile, anger melting away too easily.


“Hey, it wasn’t me! It was my mum’s fault,” he insists. “I would have been early, except she takes forever to get ready.”


Kyungsoo just rolls his eyes dramatically. “Well, I guess I’ll forgive you.”


“I’m sorry, Soo,” Jongin whines, and Kyungsoo hates how much he likes hearing Jongin use his nickname. “But I’m here now, so... Happy birthday.” And just like that, Jongin’s gotten all shy again, scratching at his neck nervously.


“Happy birthday to you, too,” Kyungsoo says softly. He’d texted Jongin on the actual day, but he likes seeing the bashful smile that lights up Jongin’s face. “Did you end up doing anything?”


“Not really, I just had a family dinner and Taemin invited himself over... Um-” Jongin glances down at the blue box in his hands- and it’s the first time that Kyungsoo notices it. His stomach drops. “I wasn’t sure what to get you- but, I hope that you like this. And I didn’t get you anything for Christmas so I hope that this can count as both presents. Um, Kyungsoo?”


Kyungsoo’s standing there, frozen, while his brain screams at him. He hadn’t thought at all about getting Jongin a present, and now Jongin’s going to be so disappointed and-


“Hello?” Jongin asks, waving a hand in front of his face.


“I didn’t get you anything,” Kyungsoo blurts out, and Jongin blinks for a second before he smiles.


“It’s alright,” he insists while Kyungsoo keeps staring blankly at him. “I’m sure I’ll think of some way you can make it up to me.”


“That sounds perverted,” Kyungsoo deadpans, stupidly kicking himself as soon as he says it, but Jongin bursts out laughing.


“I’ll make sure it’s not,” Jongin promises breathlessly, like Kyungsoo would even mind. “Please- just take it,” he insists. Gnawing on his lip, Kyungsoo lifts the gift out of his hands. It’s surprisingly heavy, and he can hear something thud when he shakes it. “Hey, don’t do that,” Jongin hisses, hands stilling Kyungsoo's. “You have to be careful with it.”


Intrigued, Kyungsoo undoes the perfectly-wrapped paper, and he’s left holding a box, the item inside displayed on the cover. “A microphone?” he asks Jongin, carefully sliding the top lid off.


“Yeah- I... I thought that the only thing wrong with your songs was the sound quality.” Kyungsoo strokes the silver that gleams up at him, completely speechless. “So I asked my friend, Wonshik, who knows lots about this kind of thing, and he said Samson makes the best microphones so I- yeah... I got you one.”


It’s a beautiful present, and way more than Kyungsoo could have deserved from him. “Thank you,” he says, his throat thick with gratitude. “I love it.”


“I figured that you’ve had a shitty time lately, and I wanted you to have something nice so-” Jongin gets cut off when Kyungsoo wraps his arms around him, and he stays still for a second, before his hands slowly come up to rest on Kyungsoo’s waist and back.


Kyungsoo is never one to initiate contact, and he normally hates hugging people, but Jongin’s been way too nice to him and he can’t think of any other way to thank him right now. “Hurry up and think of something so that I can be less in debt to you,” he murmurs into Jongin’s shoulder, and he can feel Jongin’s laugh against his chest.


“Then how about dinner?”


“Deal,” Kyungsoo says, finally pulling away from the warmth after letting himself linger for another second. Jongin’s cheeks have turned bright pink, and Kyungsoo knows that his are as well.


“And I get to choose where,” Jongin bargains, making Kyungsoo pull a face.


“Don’t forget that I’m poor.”


“Hey, I’m poor too, now,” Jongin points out, and Kyungsoo buries his flushed head in his free hand with shame. He can’t even bear to think about how much that microphone cost. “I’m just kidding, Soo,” Jongin says, prying his fingers off his face. “I’ll pick a good place, promise.”


“Fine,” Kyungsoo gives in, before he starts to drag both of them back to the door.


“Then it’s a date,” Jongin teases, and Kyungsoo turns to gawk at him.


“What?”


“Nothing,” Jongin assures, but he’s still got a mischievous grin stuck on his face even as Kyungsoo leads him out the room and back to the rest of the party, where Hakyeon pounces immediately.


Kyungsoo makes his way over to the free spot on the couch next to Chanyeol, who was talking animatedly to Sehun a second before. Sinking into his seat, he locks eyes with Sehun, and they smile at each other.


“What’s that?” Chanyeol asks, cutting in on the moment by making a grab for the box in Kyungsoo’s lap.


“Jongin’s present,” Kyungsoo states simply.


Letting out a whistle, Chanyeol inspects the microphone more closely. “Samsons are pretty pricey, y’know.”


“Yeah, I guessed that,” Kyungsoo mumbles, the guilt from before simmering in his stomach.


“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Chanyeol warns, before handing the box back to him.


Kyungsoo nods slightly, and while Chanyeol goes back to chatting with Sehun, he watches in amusement as Hakyeon keeps fawning over Jongin. Apparently, from what Kyungsoo can hear, Hakyeon’s been a fan for years and aspires to dance like him, or something. Jongin sends Kyungsoo a pleading look that Kyungsoo can only shrug at, since Hakyeon’s got him attached to his side in one of his unbreakable hugs.


He’ll come to Jongin’s rescue, eventually. But for now, Kyungsoo settles back on the couch, half tuning in to Chanyeol talking about some gorilla meme, half watching the football guys shooting things down in Overwatch.


This has ended up being a surprisingly fun party, and, looking at the microphone in his hands, Kyungsoo feels a smile pull at his lips. The rest of this year is looking pretty good, too.

“Jongin, give it back.”


“Wait wait, just a few more.”


Groaning, Kyungsoo slumps back in his seat, glaring at Jongin who’s across the table from him. “I have more than enough photos of you,” he complains.


“Well, a few more won’t hurt,” Jongin assures, baring his teeth at Kyungsoo’s phone as he takes more ugly selfies.


“The lighting’s bad in here, anyway.” Jongin just sticks his tongue out, ignoring that Kyungsoo actually has a point. The BBQ restaurant they’re in has terrible fluorescent lights overhead that make their skin look almost yellow. But it’s still worth it, because the meat here is amazing and it never gets that crowded, which is probably why Jongin always insists that they keep coming back.


Getting dinner together has become a regular thing, ever since he took Jongin to this same restaurant for his birthday. School started for Jongin last month, while after graduation, Kyungsoo's helping out at his dad's carpentry business until he manages to get into a degree, and they've been too busy to catch up during the week. To make up for it, they’d both agreed to hang out every Saturday night and have stuck to it without fail. They take turns choosing where they eat, and Jongin always goes for this hole-in-the-wall place, or the fried chicken shop nearby, while Kyungsoo prefers to try something new each time.


“I’m going to send some to Chanyeol,” Jongin announces, leaning closer to the screen to find his details.


“Chanyeol also has enough photos of you.” Kyungsoo scolds, popping more radish into his mouth. When Jongin just ignores him, Kyungsoo sighs, shaking his head in fake disappointment. By this point, it’s almost a tradition that Jongin steals his phone whenever they meet up, and Kyungsoo knows exactly what this kid is up to. Deep down, though, he doesn't mind at all.


The waitress appears again, setting down their plates of meat and Kyungsoo thanks her before he starts to diligently cook the pieces on the grill in front of them. The last time he’d let Jongin take over, half their food had ended up burnt, so Kyungsoo’s learnt his lesson and takes on the responsibility alone.


“Okay, you can have it back now,” Jongin says, finally passing the phone back to Kyungsoo’s side of the table.


“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says curtly, too concentrated on turning over the meat to look up at him. The smells are starting to waft up, and Kyungsoo’s mouth waters because he’s starving.


“I want that one,” Jongin states, pointing his chopsticks to the fattiest strip of pork belly.


“You’re not getting a whole piece to yourself, you brat.” To make his point clearer, Kyungsoo starts snipping up the meat into bite-sized chunks.


It takes a few minutes for the pork to cook through, with Kyungsoo ignoring all of Jongin’s complaints about how hungry he is and swiping his chopsticks away every time he tries to sneak a bite.


“Okay, stop bugging me and eat,” he finally says, and Jongin pounces, skipping the lettuce and just shoveling the meat into his mouth at an inhuman speed, sesame sauce spilling everywhere in the process. “You’re disgusting,” Kyungsoo deadpans.


The next three batches disappear just as fast as the first one, and Kyungsoo’s amazed he managed to get any of the beef strips, considering how much Jongin can eat before he gets even slightly full.


“Yum.” Jongin leans back, grinning as he stretches his arms above his head. His side of the table is an absolute mess, as per usual, and Kyungsoo resists the urge to throw napkins at his face.


“Have you had enough?” Kyungsoo asks, wishing there was more food in front of him.


“For now,” Jongin says, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “There’s ice cream at home so I’ll wait.”


Making a face, Kyungsoo stacks up the empty plates, trying to ignore his peckishness. “Lucky.”


“You can come over if you want,” Jongin offers, and his gaze turns to the table shyly. It wouldn’t be the first time that Kyungsoo’s been to his house, or even stayed the night, which is what he assumes Jongin is suggesting.


“Alright.” Kyungsoo agrees to it easily, his smile matching the one that Jongin beams at him. “Let me just text my parents.”


Jongin hadn’t even bothered to exit out of his SMS’s with Chanyeol, and when Kyungsoo unlocks his phone screen, the first thing he sees is that his friend’s sent him a picture of some cruise ship. Literally every time Kyungsoo mentions Jongin, he gets some .jpeg of a boat. Chanyeol’s tried to explain the English joke to Kyungsoo before, but Kyungsoo honestly doesn’t care enough to try and understand. He’s almost as bad as Jongdae, who, weirdly enough, still sometimes texts Kyungsoo and asks about how he and Jongin are going, trying to get all the ‘juicy gossip’ out of him, because Jongin refuses to tell him anything. Kyungsoo normally just ignores both of them.


His parents reply to say that they’re fine with it, which isn’t a surprise. They’re already used to Kyungsoo disappearing on Saturday nights, and no matter what he tells them, he knows that they’re still convinced that he has some secret girlfriend. Even though their sleepovers are just the two of them watching action movies until Kyungsoo falls asleep on the air mattress on Jongin’s floor, his parents aren’t that far from the truth. Jongin isn’t exactly subtle about how he feels.


With that thought, Kyungsoo’s lips twitch up into a devious grin. “So, how’s Taemin going?” he asks casually, watching as Jongin’s face immediately turns sour across from him.


“He’s fine,” Jongin grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.


Jongin has made it very clear that he regrets having introduced Kyungsoo to his best friend, since they both gang up on him mercilessly. To be honest, Kyungsoo doesn’t care that much about how Taemin’s going. Sure, Taemin’s a nice guy, but he can’t resist the reaction he gets out of Jongin every time he asks.


“Well, tell him I said hi,” Kyungsoo teases, and Jongin scoffs to himself.


This is still nothing compared to when Kyungsoo had told him that he’d met up with Chanyeol and Sehun to play video games the other day. That was a shitty move, because Jongin had sulked through the whole dinner, refusing to cheer up until Kyungsoo offered to buy him dessert. Even after that, he still wasn’t back to his normal self until Kyungsoo had told him that Sehun seems more interested in Chanyeol these days, anyway, which is completely true.


Jongin can be a pain in the ass when he’s upset, and half of the time, Kyungsoo swears that he’s dealing with a five year old child. With his moodiness and his terrible table manners, Jongin’s about as imperfect as a person can get- not to mention that he doesn’t like Maroon 5, which is practically Kyungsoo’s favorite band.


But even with all his flaws, Jongin is still so thoughtful with him. Like how he takes photos on Kyungsoo’s phone that are just for him to keep, all of them the complete opposite to the perfect, edited selfies he posts online for his fans. And Kyungsoo can tell that Jongin tries so hard to make it clear that he’ll always, always, go out of his way for Kyungsoo. No matter how much work he has to push aside to make time for him, Jongin hasn’t let a day go by without texting him, or a week pass without meeting up. It’s all painfully sweet, and Kyungsoo grins at the boy in front of him, trying to coax him out of his jealous mood by leaning over the table and wiping a smudge of food off his chin. Jongin tries to pout at him, but his laugh breaks through when Kyungsoo pats his cheek playfully.


Kyungsoo’s already sure about how he feels about Jongin- he’s known for a while, actually. Now, he just has to wait for him to make the first move, though he can’t help giving Jongin the occasional nudge.


Their plates are cleared a moment later, both of them standing up to leave.


“I’ll pay,” Jongin announces, and Kyungsoo has let him get too many of the bills, already. Shoving him out of the way, Kyungsoo dashes up to the front counter, taking the cash out of his wallet before Jongin can argue.


As they step out into the evening air, the edge taken off by the springtime, the staff call out their thanks as the door swings shut, and Kyungsoo smirks up at him.


“I wanted to get it,” Jongin argues weakly. He’s always saying that he has nothing else to spend his small YouTube earnings on, but Kyungsoo still feels bad about sucking up all his money.


“Don’t worry about it,” Kyungsoo assures him. “Besides, my parents didn’t want me to embarrass myself in front of my secret girlfriend by making her have to pay.” And he loves how Jongin ducks his head, the tips of his ears turning red as he thanks him.


As they walk side by side, Jongin’s eyes on the pavement and his cheeks still flushed, Kyungsoo lets his lips curve into a smile. He’s gotten used to the way his stomach fills up with butterflies around Jongin, and how they flap like crazy every time their hands brush. It would be so easy for him to just reach over that tiny distance and link their fingers together- but Kyungsoo quickly pushes that thought down, clearing his throat.


Anyway, Jongin should just grow a pair and confess to him already, Kyungsoo thinks stubbornly. He’s made up his mind about this: he’s not going to be the one to leave himself so defenseless, no matter how obvious it is that Jongin likes him back.


But it’s been three months, and Kyungsoo’s patience is starting to wear thin. He sighs to himself, not loud enough to be heard above the traffic around them. Sometimes, he wonders if Jongin’s ever going to do anything about it.


The sun’s setting behind the skyscrapers, rays of orange peeking through the gaps, and even though it’s finally April, nights in Seoul can still get cold. Now, Kyungsoo’s wrapping his arms around himself and his plaid, button-up shirt, trying to fight off the shivers. Jongin notices, like he always does, and shrugs off his denim jacket, which Kyungsoo swears is thicker than anything he wore throughout winter.


“I think I still have one of your hoodies at home,” Kyungsoo confesses, as Jongin drapes the fluffy lining over Kyungsoo’s shoulders.


“You can keep it,” Jongin says softly, and Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at him. “You always get colder than me, anyways.”


“Then should I give you a T-shirt in exchange?”


Jongin bursts out laughing, all his shyness gone. “There’s no way I could fit in your clothes with your tiny shoulders.” Kyungsoo had been joking anyway, and he punches Jongin in the side, offended. “It’s true! And this jacket looks huge on you,” Jongin teases, poking Kyungsoo’s cheek.


Kyungsoo frowns up at him, swatting his hand away. Even if he is practically swimming in this over-sized thing, it’s warm and soft so he doesn’t care. “You’re the worst fake girlfriend ever.”


“Why do I still have to be the girlfriend?” Jongin complains.


“You’re the girlfriend until you prove otherwise,” Kyungsoo states, and Jongin ducks his head, the pout back on his face. Seriously, with all the hints that Kyungsoo drops, this kid is a lost cause.


“Let’s cut through here,” Jongin suddenly says, pulling Kyungsoo to the side and towards the opening of some dingy alleyway.


“Wait what-”


“It’s faster this way,” Jongin insists, his grip tightening on Kyungsoo’s wrist.


“Why can’t we just go on the normal road?” Kyungsoo whinges, pulling back. It’s starting to get dark, and he’s kind of freaked out by the giant black hole that extends down the narrow passage. “This way is fucking creepy.”


“It’ll take us straight to our stop and the bus is probably soon,” Jongin insists, trying to drag Kyungsoo towards what might be their certain death. “Come on, I go down here all the time. I can protect you from any murderers.” His smile is cheeky, and Kyungsoo glares at him.


“As if I can trust you,” he hisses out, clutching onto a building corner and stopping Jongin in his tracks. He knows exactly what Jongin’s trying to prove, and Kyungsoo can twist this in his favor.


“Why not?” Jongin frowns back at him, clearly offended.


“Because you’re a chicken,” Kyungsoo snaps, his voice way too harsh for what they’re talking about, but he just goes with it.


“I am not!” he insists.


“You are, so,” Kyungsoo bites out, trying to wrestle himself out of Jongin’s grip.


“Am not! You’re the one who’s scared of the dark,” he protests, his hand tightening around Kyungsoo’s wrist and heaving him into the alley.


“Well I’ve still got more guts when it comes to everything else.” Kyungsoo yanks his hand away and stalks further into the dark, away from the city noises as he shoves past Jongin’s shoulder.


“That’s not true!” Jongin yells, and Kyungsoo can hear his sneakers crunching on broken glass as he runs after him.


Fighting the grin off his lips, he spins around- Jongin stopping a second away from him, his breathing hard and scattered.


“Then prove it,” Kyungsoo dares, and as soon as the words leave his mouth, Jongin’s pushed him against the brick wall, knocking the wind right out of him. Their eyes meet, Jongin’s hands laid flat on his chest and Kyungsoo’s sure that he can feel how hard his heart is pounding right now.


They both stop for a moment, both of them panting. Kyungsoo can tell that Jongin’s about to back down and he can't let him, hands automatically caging around Jongin's waist to stop him. Wetting his dry lips, breath caught in his throat, Kyungsoo's gaze darts down to Jongin’s mouth, and that’s all it takes before Jongin leans in the rest of the way and kisses him.


Jongin’s hesitant at first, only lightly pressing against him until Kyungsoo wraps an arm around Jongin’s neck, drawing him in closer, kissing him harder. Instantly, Jongin melts into the touch, gently resting a hand behind Kyungsoo’s head and the wall as Kyungsoo bites on his bottom lip.


He’s trying to seem confident, but honestly, Kyungsoo’s on the verge of shaking, every nerve in him lit on fire, and he has to pull away before he wants to, just enough so that he can look into Jongin’s dazed eyes, glistening in the dim lights.


“It’s about time,” Kyungsoo murmurs, trying to keep his voice steady even though he’s completely breathless.


“Shut up,” Jongin whispers, the pout back on his face and even in the dark, Kyungsoo can see how badly he’s blushing.


He bets he looks like just as much of a mess.


Resting his head on Jongin’s chest, Kyungsoo holds him, waiting for his heartbeat to slow back down.


“Do I get to be your boyfriend now?” Jongin asks quietly, and there’s so much hope in his voice that Kyungsoo can’t help but smile.


Nodding, teeth chattering, he pulls Jongin back down to meet his lips again. Warm sparks light up in his chest, travelling through his whole body, and Kyungsoo thinks he could get used to this.

The camera focuses on the two of them, Jongin sitting in his normal intro spot with Kyungsoo right next to him, looking completely out of place.


“My face looks bad on camera,” Kyungsoo complains, and Jongin shushes him, fully focused on his laptop screen. Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo leans over the back of his desk chair to watch with him.


“Hey guys, it’s your favourite dancer Kai here,” Jongin says in the video, before he gestures to his side. “And this is Kyungsoo, say hi.”


“Hello,” Kyungsoo awkwardly greets, half-bowing to the camera. In real life, Kyungsoo turns away, facepalming.


“Kyungsoo was just accepted into SeoulArts last week, so let’s all congratulate him!” Jongin’s grinning ear to ear as he claps for him, while Kyungsoo awkwardly tries to push his overgrown fringe out of his face. “He’s a really good singer and he’s been giving me lessons. So thank you Kyungsoo,” he coos, and Kyungsoo ducks his head shyly.


“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Kyungsoo hisses into Jongin’s ear, and Jongin turns away from iMovie just to grin at him cheekily.


“Today, I’m going to sing something for you guys, wah,” Jongin says, wriggling in his seat. “If you enjoy this video, or you want to hear Kyungsoo sing more, then please leave a like.” Jongin gives the camera two thumbs up. “If we can get to 20,000 likes, Kyungsoo promised me that he’d start his own channel and upload his covers on there.” Kyungsoo very discreetly shakes his head next to him, making an X at the camera.


“You know that I’m not going to do that, right?” real-life Kyungsoo says, thumping Jongin on the back of the head.


“But you agreed to it on film! For millions of people to see!” he whinges, pausing the video.


“Not millions,” Kyungsoo says, rolling his eyes. “A few hundred thousand, maybe, but I doubt that anyone’s going to like the video.”


“They’re going to love you," Jongin assures, smiling up at him. “Just as much as I do.”


“Your die-hard fans will probably hunt me down and kill me,” Kyungsoo deadpans.


“I’m pretty sure Baekhyun is my only die-hard fan, but yeah. He’ll probably murder you in your sleep.”


“The things I do for you,” Kyungsoo sighs out, no bite in it. “Risking my own life just for your view count.”


“You love me,” Jongin teases, and Kyungsoo can’t deny it, can't help but smile back down at his boyfriend of five months with all of the adoration that he feels for him.


“I do,” he says, with a squeeze of Jongin's shoulder.

 
"And just wait 'til we do a storytime video on how we met," Jongin chirps out, turning back to the computer screen. "Then we'll really rake in the views."


Kyungsoo only replies by whacking him on the head, again.