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Fallen leaves and the slight chill in the autumn air greet Jongin as he steps out of the art building of the high school, usual turkey and swiss on rye sandwich and bag of baby carrots in his hand. He’s glad he shrugged on a jacket before making his way outside for his lunch break. There is a secluded picnic bench just beneath an old oak tree in the courtyard, adjacent to an old student’s abstract sculpture. No one else bothers to come out there, so Jongin likes the peace and quiet, especially after teaching dance to lazy girls and the few boys who got put into his class by accident. He quite enjoys his alone time.
Only today, as he rounds the corner and approaches his favorite spot, does he find himself to be accompanied by another person.
Jongin stops in place, unsure what to think. It’s a man, eating his own lunch peacefully, long black hair tied into a messy bun on the back of his head and a black apron stained with colored paints around his torso. If he had to guess, it’s probably the new art teacher that Krystal had been talking about.
Panic swells up in Jongin’s chest, and his hands tremble. That’s his spot. It’s always a part of his routine. What is he supposed to do? Should he go up and ask him to move? No, that would be rude. It would lead to an argument, and Jongin is never good at arguments. He could just sit somewhere else? But that’s different, and who knows if there are other teachers sitting in the faculty room.
As he’s contemplating every option in the universe, the man seems to take notice of him. Their eyes meet, and a polite smile breaks out on the art teacher’s face, bringing a small relief to Jongin’s pounding, anxious heart. He doesn’t really want to note how handsome the man is, but he does.
“Is this your spot?” His voice is surprisingly deep but soft. “Sorry, I thought this was abandoned. I was just trying to get away from one of the English teacher’s bad flirting.” He snickers as he starts to grab his things. “I’ll leave you be.”
“No.” Jongin’s reply shocks himself and the art teacher. He swallows and continues, walking over with his head bowed. “U-Um, it's okay. You can sit here too.”
“Oh, thank you, I guess.” He laughs. It's dorky, in Jongin’s opinion, but in a good way.
Jongin sits down across from him, unsure of what to say as he starts to unwrap his sandwich. Taking a shy bite, he wonders if he should say something. It's awkward. Maybe he should've just let him walk away. It's for the better that Jongin avoids social situations. He ruins things anyways--
“I’m Kyungsoo Do. I just started working here last week. You're Mr. Kim, right? The dance teacher?”
Looking up, Jongin sees Kyungsoo eyeing him expectantly with a friendly smile. Swallowing the food in his mouth, Jongin gets the courage to reply.
“Y-Yeah, that's me. Jongin Kim. Sorry, I missed the faculty meeting the day you started.” Jongin offers a small smile. “I'm usually stuck in the studio all day anyways.”
Kyungsoo grins. “I know the feeling. I don't even realize it's time to go home sometimes. They have a nice art studio here. The last place I taught at it was poorly kept.”
“We try to keep everything fully stocked here. The school cares a lot about the arts, thankfully.” This is the only place he's taught at, but he understands the idea. The public school system always amazes him with how much they don’t seem to care anymore. “Not that I know much about that type of art.”
“I hear that you’re really good at what you do though - the dancing thing.” Kyungsoo grins sheepishly, brushing wisps of loose hair from his face, chopsticks clinking against his to-go container.
“All I hear is how much of a mean teacher I am,” Jongin mumbles with a tiny grin.
Kyungsoo laughs again. “I bet that means you’re really good though.”
“I try my best.” Jongin’s chest feels warm, and the air feels nice, not suffocating like usual. Kyungsoo’s a stranger, but it doesn’t feel difficult to keep conversation.
“Have you been here a while?” Kyungsoo asks.
“Do I look old?” Jongin pauses with a carrot to his lips, looking at the art teacher with raised brows. “I’m only twenty-eight.”
“You never know you could have one of those young faces,” Kyungsoo points out. “I’m kidding though. I just meant a few years or not. I’m twenty-nine.”
“Yeah, I’ve been here for three years. I did a lot of theatre up in New York before then.” Jongin’s sentence is clipped and curt for a reason. He doesn’t like to talk about those days that much.
“Impressive.” Kyungsoo looks amazed as he closes up his now-empty container, placing his chopsticks neatly on top. “I’ve just always been a teacher. I’ve sold a few paintings here and there, but nothing really amazing.”
“Being professional or not doesn’t amount to your worth as an artist,” Jongin says, repeating something that’s been said to him many times over the past three years as he stares at the grain of the wooden picnic bench. He glances up to see Kyungsoo smiling at him again. His lips form a heart.
“You’re right.” Kyungsoo replies earnestly, and Jongin feels the urge to lower his eyes again. The art teacher takes out his phone to check the time and lets out a surprised sound. “Ah! I guess it’s time to go set-up for the next class.” He picks up his container and water bottle. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Kim.”
“J-Jongin,” he stands up as well. “You can call me Jongin, I mean.” His cheeks flush red, embarrassed at the way he delivered his words.
Kyungsoo doesn’t seem affected at all, if anything he laughs endearingly. “Jongin, then. I’ll see you around!” He waves and then walks around the picnic table and back into the building.
Jongin stands there for a moment, wind tousling his hair as he stares at the door that Kyungsoo disappeared into. That’s probably the most social he’s been with a stranger for a long time, he thinks. Smiling softly to himself, he can’t put a finger on exactly why he feels happy. But the rest of the day goes smoothly for him, and he tends to be in a good mood, an oddity for a Tuesday.
Jongin walks out to the courtyard the following day and is surprised to see the picnic bench empty. A part of him is disappointed. He expected Kyungsoo to be sitting there again because he enjoyed talking to him yesterday. Was he not welcoming enough? Maybe he gave the wrong impression, and Kyungsoo thought that Jongin really was bothered by sitting in his spot.
He tries to will the anxiety away and takes his sandwich out of its container, biting into the corner. The familiar taste of turkey and swiss calms him as he stares at nothing in particular. It’s quiet and calm, and Jongin supposes it’s back to the usual. He doesn’t mind it, but it was nice to have someone to talk to during his break. It’s hard making friends with the other teachers, and Soojung and Jinri both have a different lunch break during the day considering they’re both a part of the English department, so he can never eat with them.
Hearing the sound of the door to the courtyard opening, he looks up to see Kyungsoo, wearing the same smock with his hair tied into a messy bun again, only with a drawing pencil stuck in the bun. Kyungsoo waves with a smile as he approaches, and Jongin returns it stiffly. He had been hoping for Kyungsoo to come, but now he’s super nervous.
“I had to scrub the paint off of my hands,” Kyungsoo explains as he sits down. Jongin glances at his hands to see some paint stains still there, a big splotch of pink on his thumb. “I’m still welcome here, right?” He asks teasingly.
“Of course,” Jongin keeps his eyes lowered, watching Kyungsoo open his lunch container and pulling out blue chopsticks from his pocket. “I actually thought I scared you away…”
“Scared me away?” Kyungsoo’s thick eyebrows raise in surprise.
“Y-Yeah,” Jongin rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, glancing up at Kyungsoo. “I’m not good at...socializing.”
“Really?” Kyungsoo says. “I was actually looking forward to lunch today.” His cheeks are so round despite his age when he smiles, and his wide eyes are so bright that Jongin can’t look away and feels his face grow warm.
“Oh,” Jongin replies, a smile tugging at his lips. “Um, me too.”
Kyungsoo laughs a little as he opens his lunch. It’s another colorful Korean meal, nicely cooked and presented. Jongin wonders if Kyungsoo has a wife or girlfriend who makes such nice lunch meals for him. It looks so delicious, but whatever. Jongin likes his sandwiches, thank you.
Opening his bag of baby carrots, Jongin gets distracted by a patch of a peach color and realizes there’s a stain of peach paint on the collar of Kyungsoo’s plaid shirt. “Ah, you have some paint on your collar,” Jongin says, and when Kyungsoo stops eating to look down at himself, Jongin points to it.
“Stupid acrylic paints,” Kyungsoo huffs, feeling the dried material between his fingertips. “I guess I got too carried away in class.” He laughs.
“Is painting your favorite medium?” Jongin asks curiously. It would explain him being covered in paint today and yesterday.
Kyungsoo purses his lips, thinking. “I guess so? I do tend to paint more than anything else, and there’s different types of painting and paints, so it isn’t always the same. That’s what I like so much about it. But I was working on a personal project today while my students were doing watercolor paintings.” He takes a gulp of his water. “I feel like some of these kids have never taken an art class despite that I’m teaching Art 2? Were they taught nothing?”
Jongin shrugs. “Probably. Mr. Kwon got fired for smoking weed on campus.” He can’t help the grin that forms on his lips as he watches Kyungsoo’s eyes go comically wide in surprise. It’s so adorable and hilarious that Jongin has to avert his eyes.
“Double hot chocolate again, huh,” Soojung says as she sits down, taking off her jacket. She fixes her windblown hair before looking at Jongin in confusion. “Where’s Jinri?”
“She was here, but Jieun called her because the baby’s throwing up, and she doesn’t know what to do.” Jongin takes a sip from his mug, licking at the whip cream on his lips afterward.
Soojung rolls her eyes after giving her order to the café waitress. “So glad I don’t have kids, or a wife, or a husband. Too much trouble.”
“No one can handle you anyways,” Jongin mumbles, only to shy away with a grin when Soojung raises a hand, threatening to slap him.
“It’s because no one can see the soft interior I have,” Soojung huffs, nose in the air. But she surprises Jongin when she suddenly smiles and places her elbows on the table, leaning forward. “Speaking of relationships, I saw something very interesting this past week.”
“What?” He blinks, confused.
“I heard that a certain> art teacher spends his lunch break with a certain dance teacher.” Soojung grins. “Even better, I saw them saying hi to each other in the hallway.”
Jongin blushes and looks away with a grumble. Soojung and Jinri are always so nosy, along with the rest of the high school’s faculty. “We’re only friends. He was sitting in my spot, and he’s really nice, so I don’t mind talking to him. It’s nice to have company.”
“Hmm…” Soojung relents and leans back as her latte is placed in front of her. “But Mr. Do is pretty cute, no? He’s got the whole manbun thing going on, and he’s an artist with a charming smile…” Soojung tilts her head to the side, smiling at him.
“So?”
“He’s totally your type!”
He frowns, toying with the hem of his sweater nervously in his lap. Jongin can’t deny that something about Kyungsoo is attractive to him, but he can’t. Not again. “He’s just a friend, and I want it to be that way. I don’t want another relationship. Not again.”
Soojung’s smile falls, and she draws back with a sigh. “Jongin…”
“Don’t,” Jongin exhales heavily. “Let’s just forget it and move on.” He doesn’t want to delve into those memories from the past. Just bringing them up has him feeling anxious and exhausted.
“Fine,” Soojung says, picking up her latte. “The last thing I’m gonna say is that it would be good for you, but I’m glad you have a new friend regardless.”
“You sound like my mom.”
“At this point, I think I am.”
A month later, the air is starting to turn freezing as November starts up. Normally, this is about the time that Jongin stops eating outside and sits on the floor of the warm dance studio, but hanging out with Kyungsoo has him just bundling up more before heading out into the cold. Really, they could just move to eat anywhere else in the school, but this is their spot. It’s a little funny, but it’s true.
When he approaches the old picnic table, Kyungsoo isn’t eating, his food placed nicely to the side. Instead, he’s sitting with his knees curled up to his chest and pressed against the table in front of him, and in his lap is a sketchbook. Kyungsoo sniffles and wipes at his red nose as his pencil moves across the paper. Jongin can’t see what he’s drawing, but he looks focused.
“Hey,” Jongin says simply as he sits down.
He receives no reply.
Glancing up, he furrows his brows. “Kyungsoo.”
No reply. Kyungsoo’s eyes remain glued to his sketchbook.
“Kyungsoo.” Jongin says louder this time, and Kyungsoo only looks up in surprise with the dance teacher bangs on the table with a fist.
“Oh! Jongin,” Kyungsoo exhales in relief, hand placed on his heart. “Sorry, I was just…” He laughs awkwardly and motions to the sketchbook in his lap.
“What is it?” Jongin asks, leaning forward and trying to peek at it, but Kyungsoo grins and quickly flips it shut, sticking his usual drawing pencil behind his ear.
“It’s just a personal project I started.” Kyungsoo hums as he opens his lunch. This time it’s gimbap, rolled delicately and beautifully. Reminded of his mother, Jongin sits back and peels open his usual bag of baby carrots and taking a bite of one.
“Same thing again, huh?” Kyungsoo remarks as Jongin uncaps his bottle of water.
Jongin suddenly clams up, fingers trembling slightly as he takes a sip of water. He knows it’s weird, and he should be tired of eating the same thing everyday. But there’s so much risk with trying something new that he’d rather stay comfortable and keep to the same routine. Now, he could just explain this but--
“S-So what? I like it, so I’m going to eat it,” Jongin says defensively, a hard edge to his tone.
Kyungsoo looks taken aback, and Jongin feels bad instantly. Biting his lips, he lowers his eyes and eats quietly. The art teacher doesn’t say anything either, and it starts to feel a little awkward. Great. He ruined the mood already, and they had just sat down.
“Um,” Jongin speaks up, nose and mouth ducked into his scarf, “Sorry. Y-You always bring Korean food, right? Do you make it yourself?” He learned that Kyungsoo was, in fact, single a week ago.
“Yes! Cooking is actually like a second hobby of mine.” Kyungsoo smiles at him, and Jongin feels relieved instantly. He’s not mad. “I cook everything that my mom taught me.”
Jongin pouts. “I’m terrible at cooking. I tried once and never again.” He shudders in memory of that horrid corn and egg mixture from his college days. “I moved away from my family in New York, and since then I haven’t been able to have any Korean food. Not to mention, I don’t like going out to eat, and nothing tastes like Mom’s cooking.” Nothing can remind him of her comforting smile, or how she’d cup his cheeks and tell him everything’s okay.
“Really?” Kyungsoo frowns. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jongin smiles reassuringly. “Maybe one day I’ll taste it again when I go and visit.”
Kyungsoo purses his lips in thought and then picks up a piece of gimbap with his chopsticks. Cupping a hand underneath it, he holds it out towards Jongin. “Here.”
Jongin looks from the gimbap to Kyungsoo’s heart-shaped smile and feels something pleasant flutter in his stomach. He shyly leans forward, opening his mouth and accepting the food, and he almost jumps when Kyungsoo’s fingers touch his chin lightly before withdrawing.
His cheeks pudge out as he chews, and Kyungsoo looks at him expectantly, awaiting a reaction. Jongin can’t help the grin that forms after he swallows. “It’s really good.”
With his cheeks turning pink, Kyungsoo averts his eyes happily. “Good.”
At the end of the next day, Jongin walks into his office to see a black bento box filled with gimbap placed on his desk. A pink sticky note is stuck on top with a cute drawing of a bear with sleepy eyes and pouty lips holding a sandwich, and Jongin grins to himself.
You said you missed it and I had extra - Kyungsoo
Jongin eats it once he gets home and feels all warm inside.
A Saturday evening finds Jongin standing outside of Kyungsoo’s apartment. Anxiety bubbles in his stomach, and he bites at his lips and toys with the sleeves of his sweater. Kyungsoo had invited him over for a cooking lesson and dinner because he thought that Jongin should be able to cook at least something homemade for himself. Jongin thought it was a nice idea, but now standing there he’s having second thoughts. What if he and Kyungsoo have nothing to talk about? What if Kyungsoo forgot about the whole thing (even though he just texted Jongin his address) and Jongin is going to look like an idiot?
Checking his phone for the millionth time to make sure he’s standing outside of the right apartment and that Kyungsoo said six o’clock, Jongin lets out a sigh at his ridiculous actions. It’s not a date or anything. They’re two friends hanging out. There’s nothing to be nervous about, so he raises his hand and knocks.
He hears a faint, “Coming!” and then the door is unlocked and opened.
Jongin is startled to see Kyungsoo with his hair down for once. It’s a bit messy from his rush to the door, but it frames his face nicely and falls to his shoulders. Not to mention he’s also wearing glasses, circular and black. “Handsome…” he mumbles aloud without thinking.
“Huh?”
“Ah!” Jongin’s face turns red as he catches his mistake. “I-I was just...you’re wearing your hair down and you have glasses…” His voice turns small.
“Oh!” It was Kyungsoo’s turn to be surprised, and he laughs his dorky, deep laugh. “I had completely forgotten that I was wearing them, but yeah I usually wear contacts. Anyways, come on in.” He backs up and opens the door wide enough for Jongin to step in.
His apartment is decorated with an artist’s touch. It’s clean with neutral tones in the furniture and walls, but that’s purposeful to move the eye towards the art hanging on the walls. The canvases are full of color, and Jongin doesn’t even think before taking off his shoes and walking up to one of them. It’s a painting of an old man, sitting at an easel in front of a window and painting with a calm expression.
“It’s my father,” Kyungsoo murmurs, moving to stand beside him. “He’s a painter too.”
“Is he why you wanted to be an artist?” Jongin turns his head to look at him.
Kyungsoo smiles, keeping his eyes on his work. “Yeah, I would sit and watch him paint all the time. It was as relaxing to me as it was to him.” His eyes flicker to Jongin. “What about you? What inspired you to dance?”
The question takes him back to velvet seats and an amazed seven year old wearing an uncomfortable tux. “My parents took me to see the Nutcracker, and I decided I wanted to learn ballet. That expanded into learning all types of dance later on.” Jongin can feel himself starting to relax again; that familiar comfort that Kyungsoo offers is calming.
“Oh, so ballet is your favorite?” Kyungsoo asks.
“Yeah,” Jongin voice falters a little. “I don’t teach it though. I-It’s...a hardworking type of dance. Not really something you can teach to high schoolers who don’t practice.” He laughs.
“Good point.” Kyungsoo grins, and he touches the small of Jongin’s back. “Shall we get to cooking? I got all of the ingredients out already.”
Jongin, feeling warm from the surprising touch, nods, and Kyungsoo leads him into his kitchen. It’s small but big enough to get the job done, and he can see that Kyungsoo has two grocery bags with the nearby Asian market’s logo on them. He digs into them and pulls out soft tofu, mushrooms, two vegetables that Jongin couldn’t name if he tried, a pepper, a jar of bean paste, and some packaged beef. Jongin is clueless as to what they’re cooking.
Kyungsoo catches his confused look as he pulls out a small pot and places it on the stove. “We’re making doenjang jjigae - my mom’s recipe of it, that is.” He raises a brow as he takes a hair tie from his wrist and ties up his hair. “You do know what that is, right?”
Jongin grumbles and swats at his shoulder. “Of course I do. I haven’t been away from my family for centuries.”
Kyungsoo pinches his arm. “I was just teasing. So whiny.”
Jongin shoots him a glare. “So what do we do first, Chef Kyungsoo?”
He actually finds himself having fun as Kyungsoo leads him into the steps of the recipe. Kyungsoo takes the liberty of helping Jongin position his hand correctly on the knife, and Jongin pretends that he doesn’t like the spark he felt in his veins or the warmth of Kyungsoo pressing against him from behind. Or the way Kyungsoo gets all smiley when Jongin follows his directions well. Seeing Kyungsoo so happy makes Jongin smile as well.
“I actually had to move away from my parents to get this job.” Kyungsoo says as he drops in a few slices of the pepper into the bubbling stew. “They live a few hours away, so I don’t have it as bad as you, but I still get a little lonely sometimes. But I’m glad I met you because I don’t feel so lonely.” He looks up at Jongin with a toothy grin.
Jongin suddenly feels sheepish and darts his eyes to the stew. “Oh, um, really? That’s good. I-I feel the same.”
Kyungsoo turns off the heat to let it simmer, and he moves to set the small table in the corner of the kitchen. Jongin scoops the rice out of the rice cooker, patting it down into two bowls. He sets them onto the table as Kyungsoo comes over with the small pot, placing it on a knitted potholder in the center of the table and taking off the lid. Steam pours out, and Jongin hums happily as he sits down, stomach growling.
“Looks good?” Kyungsoo says, grinning at Jongin’s reaction.
“Mhm.” Jongin stirs it around with his spoon, scooping up a bit of the broth and blowing on it before tasting. Watching carefully for his reaction, Kyungsoo sips at his water and then bites his lips as Jongin swallows thoughtfully.
“Hmm…” He purses his lips and leans back, holding his chin in thought. Kyungsoo lifts his spoon threateningly with a glare, dark brows menacing, and Jongin bursts into giggles. “It’s good, of course.” He starts to actively eat, grabbing some kimchi with his chopsticks.
“Good, I was about to hit you if you had insulted my mother’s recipe.” Kyungsoo grumbles, pretending to be angry as he starts to eat as well, but Jongin knows he’s overjoyed. His lips curl at the corners, and his upper lip pulls back into a gummy smile that he can’t stop. Jongin’s heart does a flip in his chest at the sight. He’s never seen Kyungsoo so genuinely pleased, not even when Jongin had complimented his art earlier. He must’ve been very excited to show Jongin how to cook tonight.
The stew disappears soon enough, both having worked up an appetite. The meal is filled with Kyungsoo telling stories about his adventures in university and made Jongin laugh with his deadpan humor. Kyungsoo is such a calm and well put together man at the moment that Jongin can hardly imagine him as the hippy-like college student he once was. And by the end of the meal, Jongin feels content, filled with delicious food and plenty of laughs.
“Do you want to stay a little longer and watch a movie?” Kyungsoo asks as he and Jongin are washing the dishes diligently. His voice is soft and almost anxious, shy. “I can heat up some popcorn.”
“Sure.” Jongin didn’t want to leave yet anyways.
They end up choosing to watch Captain America as Kyungsoo has never seen it before, and Jongin gawks at him when he mentions that he’s not really into superheroes. As Kyungsoo turns off the lights and the movie starts, Jongin declares with a handful of popcorn that he will force Kyungsoo to watch every good superhero movie from here on out. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes as he sits down on the couch.
Jongin doesn’t really notice how close Kyungsoo sits next to him at first. It's enough that he can comfortably reach the bowl of popcorn that rests in Jongin’s lap. But it's when Steve becomes all buff on screen that Jongin feels the cushions move and a thigh brushes against his own. He glances over and Kyungsoo’s eyes are trained on the screen, so he doesn't really think much of it and goes back to watching the movie.
Halfway through the film, Kyungsoo murmurs, “Is there any popcorn left?”
Jongin looks down. There are a few pieces left among the pile of unpopped kernels at the bottom of the bowl. “A little.” He states before returning his eyes to the screen, tilting the bowl towards Kyungsoo.
He hears the sound of Kyungsoo rummaging around the bowl and then crunch of him eating, but Jongin isn't prepared when Kyungsoo’s hand moves to rest on his thigh. He strokes a little before letting his palm rest there casually, and Jongin’s heart races beneath his rib cage. Why is he doing that?
Jongin can hardly focus on the movie anymore, sensitive to the warmth of Kyungsoo’s hand, to every twitch of his fingers. To make it even worse, the artist sighs and moves closer, resting his head against Jongin’s shoulder. Jongin has to pretend it isn't making his heart beat like crazy or his palms sweaty. He isn't sure what to do. Does Kyungsoo possibly...No. Absolutely not. Kyungsoo is just one of those touchy-feely friends.
The cushions shift again. “Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispers.
Jongin turns his he and sucks in a quick breath because Kyungsoo is so close, close enough that their noses are an inch away. His dark eyes are staring wordlessly into Jongin’s, and Jongin can't breathe.
Kyungsoo’s eyes flicker to his lips and then to his eyes. Jongin lets out a soft sound before he realizes he's being kissed.
His lips are soft and warm, pressed gently against Jongin’s own. The kiss is salty from the popcorn. It's a nice feeling that has Jongin’s heart calming down to a slow rhythm. It's so nice that he kisses back and feels Kyungsoo squeeze his thigh. It's so nice that Jongin stops looking at Kyungsoo’s long lashes and closes his eyes. And then it's too nice.
Gasping, Jongin opens his eyes and pushes Kyungsoo away, more roughly than necessary. His hands rest on Kyungsoo’s shoulders, keeping him an arm’s length away. With red lips and wide eyes, Kyungsoo stares at him, and he looks vulnerable.
“I-I’m…” Jongin can't breathe, and his hands are trembling. He shoots up from the couch and runs to the front door, clumsily slipping on his shoes. He has to go home. He can't be here anymore.
“Jongin! What's wrong?” Kyungsoo grasps his wrist, but Jongin yanks it away. He doesn't even reply as he wrenches open Kyungsoo’s door and escapes through it, slamming it shut and leaving Kyungsoo in the darkness of his apartment, wondering if he'd read things wrong all along.
Jongin doesn't know how he makes it home. He barely remembers driving at all or stumbling up to his apartment, but he registers his straggling breaths and the comfort of his bed as he dives in and shakes with sobs. Jjanggu, his chubby puppy, whines and waddles up onto the bed too, licking at Jongin’s face.
Things weren't always like this. Jongin can't ever remember having any sort of anxiety growing up. He was very popular in college as well, one of the most talented dancers with every pirouette being labeled perfect. It was obvious that he'd be snatched up by the famous ballet company once he graduated.
The Jongin from back then was a little cocky. He liked being envied, being given the stink eye by those underneath him when he was given the main roles. He pushed himself to his limits, and it was always worth it to him. His passion for ballet was endless.
But he had a weakness, and it was the stage director’s son - another dancer named Taemin. He, too, was popular and got just as many leads as Jongin did. They were close.
Close enough that Jongin couldn't see that he was being used. Taemin wanted to be at the top, even if that meant putting himself in a fake relationship, messing with Jongin’s shoes, and watching him trip on stage during an important show.
Jongin didn't even realize it was Taemin’s doing until he was fired from the company and started to see Taemin as the main lead of every performance. He was used.
Kyungsoo
Are you okay? I'm sorry if I was too forward. I thought we had something. Please tell me what's wrong. I'm fine with just being friends, Jongin.
Please tell me you're alright. You called out of work today.
Please reply to me, Jongin. I’m worried about you.
Jongin stares at the text message screen as he lies down, curled up in his bed as he has been for the past three days. He doesn't want to move. He's scared to move, and he only gets up to feed himself or take Jjanggu out. He's been calling in sick to work too.
Soojung and Jinri have come to visit him, but Jongin can't bring himself to tell them what happened or why he's so anxious and depressed. He doesn't even know why. And he knows he should reply to Kyungsoo’s messages, but he isn't sure what to say. He's scared.
He's scared because he likes Kyungsoo too.
Locking his phone, Jongin rolls on his side, Jjanggu curled up beside him. He pets the lazy labradoodle’s belly as he pushes away his anxious thoughts. He knows Kyungsoo is pure and kind, that he isn't like Taemin and has nothing to gain. But the fear still remains, and Jongin hates it. He keeps pushing Kyungsoo away because of such a stupid thing. Soon enough Kyungsoo won't even want to be friends with him anymore.
That thought rips at his heart, and Jongin whimpers as he hugs Jjanggu close in anxiety. Kyungsoo deserves someone adequate anyways.
Jongin lies there in painful thought for another hour or so until he hears a knock on the door. It's probably Soojung as she'd said she'd stop by again today, and Jongin gets up to let her in, messy hair, pajamas and all.
But when he opens the door, it isn't Soojung at all.
It's Kyungsoo, standing there with a meek smile and holding a portable pot.
Jongin’s voice dies in his throat, and he just stands still in surprise. He's unsure of what to do or say, part of him considers just closing the door in Kyungsoo’s face and going back to his safe spot on the bed.
“Um,” Kyungsoo says, “Soojung told me that you might be needing a good meal. I brought galbitang?” He voice goes higher in pitch at the mention of food, and he holds up the pot.
Jongin stays silent but lowers his eyes to the pot in Kyungsoo’s hands. Galbitang sounds good right about now, and he's sure Kyungsoo’s recipe is heavenly.
“Can I come in?” Kyungsoo asks nervously after a pause of awkward silence.
“Y-Yeah,” Jongin finally says, voice hoarse. He backs out of the doorway to let Kyungsoo into his apartment, taking the small pot from him so that he can take off his shoes. Jjanggu comes padding out of the bedroom, letting out a tiny bark at the sight of someone new.
“Aww, is this the Jjanggu I’ve heard so much about?” Kyungsoo coos, bending down to pet the puppy. “He's so cute!”
“Thanks,” Jongin offers a small smile, taking the pot into the kitchen. Kyungsoo and Jjanggu follow him. He sets it on his tiny breakfast bar and searches for a spoon.
“Hungry?” Kyungsoo asks as he sits down at the bar next to Jongin, who's already taken the lid off and actively eating.
His thought was right; it does taste heavenly, especially considering Jongin hasn't eaten much in the past three days. “I, um...thank you for bringing this. I-I needed it.” He says after swallowing.
“You're welcome.”
The apartment is filled with the sounds of Jongin eating for a while, and Kyungsoo only sits and watches him eat. Normally Jongin would mind, but he's so hungry and would rather eat than face talking it out with Kyungsoo. But he knows it's inevitable.
He finishes sooner than he'd like, and Jongin sits back with his nerves going haywire in anticipation, fingers clenching into the fabric of his joggers. Kyungsoo sighs, and a hand is placed gently over Jongin’s clenched fist, instantly relaxing him.
“Was it…” Kyungsoo murmurs. “Is it me? Was I too forward or did I make you uncomfortable? You won't hurt my feelings if you say you aren't attracted to me in the same way. I guess I got kind of lost in my own world and thought that maybe you--”
“I do,” Jongin interrupts Kyungsoo’s rambling, surprising them both. “I-I mean...I feel the same way it's just…” His hands tremble as he struggles to find the words.
“You don't have to tell me everything,” Kyungsoo reassures.
Jongin nods and swallows thickly. “I...Bad experiences in the past led to...anxiety and it's just h-hard for me to be comfortable. I-I like routine so much because it's safe, but you…” Jongin looks at Kyungsoo. “Lately you have been mixing it all up a-and my mind can't decide if I like it or not. My stomach’s all tied in knots, and I feel like I can't breathe sometimes.”
Kyungsoo squeezes his hand and looks oh-so-happy. “You really feel that way about me?”
“Huh?”
“It sounds to me like you really like me.” Kyungsoo blushes, his free hand tucking some loose bangs behind his ear. “And I’m fine if you like routine. I'd do anything or go anywhere over and over if it was with you, Jongin. If you don't mind, I'd actually like to become part of that routine.”
Jongin stares at him in amazement. Kyungsoo would want someone as stubborn and odd as him? It makes his stomach twist up again lovingly, and his fingers uncurl from his fist. “B-But you're already a part of it,” he utters with a nervous smile.
Kyungsoo’s eyes widen momentarily, and then his expression softens. Jongin isn't prepared for the gentle kiss on his cheek or the rush of warmth that comes from it.
“You make me feel like I can't breathe either,” Kyungsoo sighs.
It's difficult for Jongin to get used to dating Kyungsoo, even if things haven't really changed. They still eat lunch together every day, only in Jongin’s studio to keep from the cold. Kyungsoo starts to bring him lunch on Wednesdays too, and Jongin starts to look forward to it, not missing his turkey sandwich and baby carrots.
Sometimes he has to stop himself from pushing Kyungsoo away, but Kyungsoo does well with his anxiety, giving Jongin space when he needs it or wheedling himself into his space when he wants it. Maybe they have spent a lunch break or two making out.
“You know what I heard?” Soojung says over coffee as she invites Kyungsoo to her, Jinri, and Jongin’s usual café dates. Jinri coughs out a laugh, and Kyungsoo and Jongin look at both of them in confusion.
Soojung snickers. “I heard my students speculating that you two are dating.”
“Soon enough they'll start writing fanfiction about you two!” Jinri laughs, letting her tiny daughter toy with her bracelet as she sits in her lap.
Kyungsoo grins while Jongin grumbles and slumps in his chair, embarrassed. He has been getting weird grins from his closer students and other faculty, especially at meetings when he takes a seat next to Kyungsoo. The single music teacher, Ms. Smith, has been giving him the stink eye every faculty meeting, and Kyungsoo admitted that she’d asked him out on a date once.
“I was already deeply in love with you at that point,” Kyungsoo coos teasingly, and Jongin shuts him up with a kiss.
It’s Christmas Eve when Kyungsoo texts him (out of nowhere) and says that he’s coming over in ten minutes. Jongin is in the middle of putting a little sweater on Jjanggu when he receives the text, and he instantly hops up to make sure he looks okay, combing his hair with his fingers and straightening his sweater. Kyungsoo had told him that he’d be coming over sometime because he was working on a piece.
There’s a knock on the door soon enough, and both Jongin and Jjanggu run to answer it. The puppy yips and barks, jumping on Jongin’s ankles as he opens the door. Kyungsoo stands there, panting heavily as if he’d ran there. His ears, nose, and cheeks are tinted pink from the cold, and he smiles happily at Jongin, carrying a large covered canvas.
“I finished it,” he says with a proud grin.
“I see that, but why did you bring it here?” Jongin lets him in, staring at the canvas as Kyungsoo removes his shoes. He notes Kyungsoo’s paint-stained hands, obvious that he forgot to wash them before rushing over here.
Kyungsoo stands back up, looking at Jongin fondly, and then he holds out the canvas to him. There’s a red bow on the corner of it. “Merry Christmas, Jongin.”
His jaw drops to the floor, and Jongin takes it into his hands. “B-But it’s not Christmas yet…”
“Oh, who cares.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and guides Jongin to sit down on the couch in his living room. “Just open it. I was too excited to wait until tomorrow to show you it after waiting for the paint to dry.”
“You’ve been working on this for months just for me?” Jongin turns to him with a teary-eyed look and a pout.
“I was inspired.” Kyungsoo gestures to the canvas. “Open it.”
Jongin tears at the paper carefully, not noticing Kyungsoo taking the bow and sticking it on top of his head. The paper comes off easily and what lies beneath is simply a masterpiece. It takes Jongin’s breath away, and his hands rest shakily on the frame. “Is this...me?”
He knows it’s him because he remembers the performance from years ago, when he was still a part of the ballet company. Clad in black tights and shirtless, he was dancing with black fabric in his hands, gold body glitter smoothed over his chest and arms. Kyungsoo had captured that moment perfectly, in the midst of a grande jeté and the length of black silk wound around him. It’s beautiful, and tears spill down his cheeks.
“Y-You...I never showed you this?” Jongin wipes at his tears, face turned into a grimace from the happy sobs he holds in.
Kyungsoo grins at him sheepishly. “I looked you up after you said you were a dancer, and I got inspired by some pictures I saw of you - even watched a couple of videos. You’re a beautiful dancer, Jongin. Do you like it?”
Jongin sniffles and puts the canvas to the side to hug his boyfriend, wiping his tears away on Kyungsoo’s shirt. “Of course I do, stupid.” He pulls away to kiss Kyungsoo lovingly. He’s suddenly turning all those bad memories into good ones, something that Jongin can be proud of.
“Aww,” Kyungsoo laughs once their lips part, and he pets the back of Jongin’s head adoringly. “I’m glad you like it so much.”
He scrubs at his tears, trying to will it away. Jongin knows he looks ugly when he cries, but then he pauses, thinking about something, and starts crying even harder. With a sob, he tucks himself closer to Kyungsoo and hides his face in his neck.
“Wh-What’s wrong?” Kyungsoo asks worriedly, thinking he’d upset Jongin somehow.
“Now my present is stupid!” Jongin whines, voice muffled by the fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt.
“Oh! What’d you get me?”
Jongin gets up, only to grab a small wrapped present from his side table and throw it at Kyungsoo. “Socks!” He pouts.
Kyungsoo unwraps it with a bright smile. “But I wanted socks.”
“That’s not the point!” Jongin huffs, sitting back down on the couch. Kyungsoo snickers at him but places the socks to the side, scooting closer to be next to him.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, brushing their noses together when Jongin turns to look at him. “You can make it up to me if you really want to.”
Jongin smirks. He can definitely do that.