Kaisoo One Shots

you plus me equals us and we

Author: rainbowtoxicity

  "Jongin! How many tickets do you need for prom?"

"One?"

"Plus one?"

"Is two?"

Baekhyun rolls his eyes theatrically and tosses his hands up in the air as if to say I can't believe someone as fabulous as me has to deal with such amateurs on a daily basis. Jongin sighs. He knows that look well.

"Jongin, Jongin, Jongin." Baekhyun begins condescendingly, heaving his arm over Jongin's shoulder. Jongin tries not to look too uncomfortable. (Although it's not like that has ever stopped Baekhyun.) "Jongin. Jongin. Dear Jongin."

"Baekhyun?"

"Jongin."

"Are we gonna-"

"Do not interrupt me!"

"I-"

"That will be enough."

Jongin opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a few seconds and finds that the movement does not help him to shed any light on the situation.

"As I was saying," Baekhyun begins, drawing himself up to his (embarrassingly short) full height, "Jongin. Why are you going to prom alone?"

"I'm, um, not in a relationship?"

"Technicalities!" Baekhyun declares loudly, waving his arm again. Jongin can't fight the uncomfortable expression on his face this time. "Come on, I'morganising this prom. It's going to be the best night of your life. It's going to be (and I don't use this word lightly) bitchin'."

Jongin nods dazedly. "I'm sure it will be."

Baekhyun waves this away grandly, patting Jongin on the shoulder. "Unfortunately though, I am not God."

Jongin finds himself completely floored by this statement.

"I know, it's an unfortunate truth, but one that is sadly out of my control. But as a human, I cannot ensure that prom is, as I mentioned before, 100% bitchin'. And the only way to achieve full bitchin'...ness is to end the night with highly unsatisfactory and sloppy underage sex."

Jongin blinks.

"And without that (I'm sorry to have to tell you this Jongin) prom might not be bitchin'."

"No."

"I know. It might only be...wow, this is actually really hard for me to say. It might only be...rad."

"You can't be serious."

Baekhyun nods solemnly and wipes an invisible tear from his eye as Jongin attempts to hold back his laughter. "I know, Jongin. Trust me, I know. Which is why I'm going to have to give you this." He reaches into his pocket and presents Jongin with a ripped piece of card.

"What is this?"

"It's a man card. Now take it with you, go ask someone out and make prom the most bitchin' night of your life, young man! There must be someone who's into this kind of innocent bunny meets young Patrick Swayze meets eight year old thing you've got going on. So what do you say?"

"You have man cards?"

"I have a girlfriend!"

"Trust me, no-one is more surprised about that than your friends."

"Hey! I'm a catch! Now take your man card and go! I'll put a plus one next to your name."

And then he runs off to accost a scared-looking Minseok, leaving Jongin standing alone, clutching a piece of card and feeling thoroughly confused about what has just occurred.

--

Despite being deep into exam season, Jongin starts a new part-time job that Saturday.

It's nothing much, just the local café in the park, but it's time out of the house and out of studying.

He turns up twenty minutes early, ambling through the park to get there. It's late April, and the morning doesn't hold the poisonous heat of summer yet. There's a soft breeze blowing on Jongin's face and a gentle blue in the sky. Jongin loves this type of weather: lazy weather, hazy weather, weather for falling asleep on the grass to the soft buzzing of bees and the susurrations of the summer breeze through the flowers. Weather for falling asleep, weather for falling in love.

Jongin swings the door of the café open and is hit by a blast of air conditioning. The empty tables seem to hold phantom customers in their seats and Jongin can almost see the hustle and bustle of his shift to come. He lets a smile play on his lips as he makes his way over to the till and introduces himself.

There's just one man there: smaller than him, similar age, back turned. Jongin coughs. The man turns around.

Jongin's breath catches. His eyes skate over messy black hair styled up, pale skin, the tiniest hint of eyeliner and a silver cartilage piercing, down to a low black t-shirt that exposes long collarbones and a mole dotting the line of an elegant neck.

The man coughs at him, looking distinctly unimpressed. Jongin starts and blushes, fumbling with his own t-shirt as he drops into a deep bow.

"Hi, I'm Jongin. Today will-"

"-be your first day." The man finishes for him, turning back to the coffee machine behind him. "I know. Boss is not working today so I said I'd teach you the ropes."

"Ah." Jongin says nervously, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. "Thank you. And you are?"

Swinging around, the man fixes Jongin with a look as his sharp eyebrows ascend in his face. "Kyungsoo. But that's hyung to you."

Jongin stands there, gaping at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo taps his fingers against the counter in impatience as Jongin stares at him. "Now, do you want to learn how to make coffee or not?"

--

Jongin's reading in the storeroom, sitting cross-legged on one of the boxes of finest Arabica Coffee and gently holding each creamy page of the book between the very tips of his fingers before he flips to the next chapter. Light is falling in delicate skeins around him and the air's warm as he stretches and settles his back against the cold stone wall.

The door opens and Kyungsoo appears, light streaming in around him from the café. It's the second time they've met.

Jongin takes in Kyungsoo's tight jeans, ripped up and down the length of the leg to reveal pale thighs. He gulps. An apron is knotted at Kyungsoo's waist which only accentuates how slim the other man is. Jongin gulps again.

And suddenly he's nervous. He has no reason to be, that's for sure: he's on lunch break, he's not bothering anyone, he's not shirking his duties...but somehow he feels guilty. Like Kyungsoo's discovered him doing something he shouldn't be. Maybe he has because no-one really knows Jongin reads. It's such a little thing, but Jongin feels embarrassed, exposed, laid open, vulnerable. Kyungsoo's found him in his own little world, and he doesn't like anyone to do that.

He gets up so quickly that he goes lightheaded. "I was just..."

Kyungsoo nods to him silently and heaves up the box of coffee he was sitting on into his arms, heading back for the door. Jongin turns around and presses his forehead to the cool wall again, dangling the book from one hand as he listens for Kyungsoo's exit.

"I...really like that book." Jongin hears suddenly, jumping a little. He thought Kyungsoo'd left the room.

He turns.

Kyungsoo is standing by the door, half in and half out of the room, half facing and half away from Jongin, a half smile hanging off his lips like a paperweight. The box is clutched in his arms and the sunlight emphasises how his jeans are moulded to his thighs. Jongin glances at the silver metal in Kyungsoo's ear that's casting rainbows around the room. He lets himself smile.

"I...yeah, me too. I really like it." Jongin murmurs, the silence in the room softening around them to something quite gentle and really quite unusual. It's an oddly intimate moment, especially when Kyungsoo turns more towards him and lets a small smile pass his lips before pushing the door open and walking through it, leaving it to swing behind him as he leaves. The moment fractures oddly around Jongin as he stands in the centre of the room, cradling the book in his hands.

--

Jongin stays late that night to help Kyungsoo tidy up.

It's not his job to, not really, and it would be so easy just to go straight home after his shift. Kyungsoo doesn't ask him to stay and Jongin doesn't even get the feeling that he wants company.

Nonetheless, Jongin stays. It's the kind of person he is.

They don't speak as they work, wiping the tables and sweeping the floor in gentle silence until Kyungsoo tunes the radio into some classical channel and orchestral notes flow like a river beneath their feet.

The heat of the day has gone, and it's almost chilly as they put the mops away and Kyungsoo locks up the café with a decisive click of the lock.

"Bye, hyung." Jongin murmurs when they reach a fork in the path and go their separate ways.

At first, Jongin thinks Kyungsoo hasn't heard him. Then, the older man raises his hand in greeting. Finally, when they're passing each other, Jongin thinks he hears a gentle see you around, Jongin. But he's not quite sure and so he doesn't turn around. Not once.

--

It's May, which means warm, bright days, long fingers of sunshine beckoning students outside and a café full to bursting with customers demanding Iced Americano.

Kyungsoo's still wearing his tight, heavy, ripped jeans and Jongin can't help but wonder if he's sweating under the heavy layers of the fabric.

"Kyungsoo!" Jongin yells over his shoulder, wiping the thin sheen of sweat off his forehead. It's hot by the coffee machine, sweltering even, and the air conditioner doesn't even touch them here. "Kyungsoo, we've run out of lemon."

Kyungsoo appears suddenly from where he was bending down to reach the mini-fridge which sadly only contains pints and pints of milk. "What did you say?"

"I said Kyungsoo...I mean hyung..."

"There it is." Kyungsoo mutters under his breath as Jongin clenches his teeth to stop himself rolling his eyes.

"So anyway, Kyungsoo (I mean hyung)...we've run out of lemon."

Kyungsoo snakes a hand up to the back of his neck and massages it, rolling his head to work the kinks out. Jongin watches unabashedly. He stretches quickly and Jongin's eyes flash down automatically to the tiniest stretch of white belly revealed by the action. He gulps and ducks to the mini-fridge to grab some more milk that isn't really needed.

"Go to the supermarket at lunch?" Kyungsoo suggests, turning to the next customer with a winning smile. Jongin lets out an exhale of air, pushes his warm fringe out of his eyes and starts making some ridiculous double triple chocolate caramel frappucino for the next customer.

--

"Hey, Kyungsoo, I'm going to buy some lemons now. Sorry, I mean hyung."

Kyungsoo looks up at him briefly and nods. They're hiding in the storeroom for their brief lunch break, enjoying the cool air while it lasts. Kyungsoo is reading but Jongin can't work out what the book is and doesn't have the guts to ask him.

"Do you wanna – I mean – would you – would you come with me, Kyungsoo?"

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at him quickly, and Jongin stammers and blushes.

"I mean, would you come with me, hyu-"

Kyungsoo snorts loudly and rakes a hand through his hair. Jongin tries to tell himself this is not extremely attractive and is totally not playing havoc with his emotions. "Just call me Kyungsoo, Jongin."

"Really?" Jongin breathes, a giddy little tremor passing over his stomach at this.

"Yeah, whatever." Kyungsoo says, curling his lip as if to say it's not a big deal. "It's not like you ever really call me hyung anyway."

"Oh." Jongin whispers, trying desperately to wipe the ridiculous smile off his face. "Right. That's cool."

Kyungsoo sighs and stands up. "Are you gonna stand there all day, or are we gonna go?"

"We?" Jongin echoes stupidly, and he really doesn't know why he's come over like this. It must be something about the way Kyungsoo is looking at him, and the feeling of a thousand exotic caterpillars crawling in his belly, hatching out to huge, colourful butterflies the size of fists one by one by one.

Kyungsoo shakes his head at Jongin's daze, a tiny little smile flirting at the corners of his mouth, and pushes on the fire exit, opening it to let the sunshine stream in. Jongin follows him slowly, the brilliant light burning his eyes for a second, and painting everything in a slightly blue haze.

They don't speak all the way there or back, but Jongin glances sideways at Kyungsoo and notices the smile dripping from his mouth. And then he can't really stop grinning himself, and then the silence feels as warm as the afternoon itself.

--

Soojung comes in the next week, her red hair gleaming in a tight ponytail, her body drawing stares in her tight shorts and flowing shirt. Jongin frowns (his faux-brotherly instinct always kicks in around her) and spears a few of the hapless men following her with a glare.

"I didn't know they hired idiots." She says with a raised eyebrow when she gets to the counter, her smile taking all the sting out of her comment. Jongin rolls his eyes and pokes her before getting her the typical iced tea order. They bicker while he fills her glass, the argument eventually ending in Soojung sticking out her tongue. Jongin shakes his head and hands over the iced tea, sending her off with a wave.

"She was pretty." Jongin hears Kyungsoo say next to him, and Jongin feels his stomach sink.

"I don't really notice anymore." He supplies in a monotone, and Kyungsoo flicks his eyes up to Jongin's face. "But I guess she is. She's most people's type."

"She's not mine." Kyungsoo murmurs, and his eyes suddenly feel hard on Jongin's face. He turns briefly to look at Kyungsoo, the light gathering behind him in long rays, and feels the breath catch in his throat.

"No?" Jongin asks faintly, watching emotions flit lightly like rainbows over Kyungsoo's face.

"No." Kyungsoo reaffirms slowly, catching Jongin's eye before staring at the silver pot of coffee in front of him. Jongin's gaze dances over Kyungsoo's face to the silver stud in his ear sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. And then, right there in that coffee shop, he is hit by the most uncontrollable urge to suck on the piercing, to see what noises Kyungsoo would make.

There's a cough at the till, and Jongin spins around quickly with his pre-prepared smile to serve the next customer.

--

There's a feeling Jongin gets when the weather is that hazy, lazy kind of warm, and the afternoon is nearly over, and children are running past outside, shrieking. He doesn't know how to describe it. A kind of restlessness, perhaps, a craving for adventure even. A wish to not go home, to never go home, a wish to go out, to stay out, to discover, to keep discovering. It's a kind of madness that settles upon him in the long evenings of summer.

The café closes up early on Sundays – last orders taken at 8:30 – and Jongin's left alone with Kyungsoo to clean the shop. It's warm still, but the sting has gone out of the day and there's a breeze pouring in from the open windows.

Kyungsoo looks at him. "Home time."

"I don't want to go home." Jongin blurts out, the smell of summer curling under the door and making him mad with it.

Kyungsoo doesn't reply, just looks at Jongin so directly that Jongin feels the stare directly between his ribs.

"I've always thought this is the kind of weather for an adventure." Jongin admits because he has, and he's nothing if not honest.

Kyungsoo continues to regard Jongin with the same stare, looking for all the world as if he's trying to work him out.

"Can I – can I show you something?" He asks softly, and Jongin can do nothing but nod dumbly and follow Kyungsoo out of the door, listening to the bell tinkle behind them.

--

The sun's setting as they weave their way through the park, casting everything in hues of orange and red. Kids fall asleep in their prams, dogs trot past sleepily with their owners and couples walk hand-in-hand with long strides and even longer shadows. The bees buzz quietly along and Jongin marvels at the feeling of quiet in the air, of calm and piece and warmth.

Kyungsoo smiles slightly at him. They're not touching – not holding hands or linking arms – but Jongin wonders if he's ever felt closer to another person. Their steps automatically fall into a natural rhythm as they walk further away from the café.

Eventually, Kyungsoo steers Jongin away from the path and through the grass to a gap in the tall hedge. He smiles back at Jongin with his eyes as he leads the way through their hedge and out into the opening.

It's a garden, with tall trees, long reeds and a tiny flowing pond in the centre. A pagoda sits at one end with a small bench underneath it. The sunset creates long shadows over the surface of the pool.

"How's this for an adventure?" Kyungsoo asks softly as he watches Jongin stare across the garden. Jongin snaps his gaze back to Kyungsoo and feels a long ache in his chest at the way the light is shading Kyungsoo's features. He can't say anything, but he nods gently as Kyungsoo guides him to the bench under the pagoda.

It's cold in the shade and Jongin shifts slightly closer to Kyungsoo, feeling heat radiate from those ripped jeans. He stares out over the pond and watches the ripples spread as Kyungsoo throws a delicate pebble across the pond and lets it skim the surface - once, twice, thrice.

Kyungsoo doesn't say anything, but somehow Jongin knows that this is something special for him. That this is a tiny little part of his heart that he's showing to Jongin. He knows Kyungsoo won't say anything about it, but he's so, so grateful to have it shared with him.

A bird comes to drink from the lake and they both watch it in silence. Jongin smiles and he doesn't even need to turn his head to know that Kyungsoo is smiling with him.

--

Jongin takes to bringing school books to study with in his breaks. There's a comfortable excuse in a textbook, a shield to hide behind and deflect questions in, a warm sense of knowledge that covers completely. Pity Jongin's too wrapped up in Kyungsoo to pay attention to the characters and numbers sliding through him like sand through an hourglass.

"Are you studying poetry, then?" Kyungsoo asks when he finds Jongin curled in the corner of the storeroom, surrounded by crates. (Jongin has always liked to be boxed in, has always loved the safety of being enclosed.)

He starts. Literature steals up behind him sometimes and catches him completely unawares and it is only human contact that can break the fragile cage it weaves around him. "I- no."

"No?"

"I'm not studying. I- I like poetry." With anyone else, he would have blushed to admit it. With anyone else, he would hide it, but Kyungsoo's eyes hold a startling honesty and he finds himself wanting to share secrets with that light in his gaze. He would usually explain himself, but he doesn't think Kyungsoo needs a justification from him.

Kyungsoo smiles, the grin telling Jongin that he knows a secret's just been shared with him.

"What's your favourite poem?" Jongin asks suddenly, surprised by the words as they leave his mouth before realising that he wants to know more than anything. He wants to know what makes Kyungsoo happy. (He wants to know what makes Kyungsoo Kyungsoo.)

Kyungsoo just stares back at him silently, hand still on the door-handle of the supply room, shoulders still pressed up against the wood.

Jongin shakes his head and lowers his gaze to the floor. "Sorry, stupid question. I-"

"-nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals," Kyungsoo begins slowly, his voice deepening to a rich tone, "the power of your intense fragility:whose texture / compels me with the colour of its countries, / rendering death and forever with each breathing." It's not the most beautiful voice for reading, Jongin notes. It doesn't carry the authority and weight of great readings, it doesn't follow the meter precisely. It's always slightly off, slightly wrong, slightly irregular.

Jongin's captivated.

"(i do not know what it is about you that closes / and opens;only something in me understands / the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) / nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands." Kyungsoo finishes, the last notes of his voice swelling like a symphony. He smiles down at his feet and turns to go out of the door.

"Thank you." Jongin whispers. Kyungsoo's back is turned, but he pauses briefly before walking back into the shop, and Jongin knows that Kyungsoo hears him.

--

Kyungsoo ends up taking Jongin to the garden again the next week. There's two cups of Iced Americano going spare at the end of the day and Jongin's fingers go numb from carrying both of them through the park.

He watches the drops of condensation slip down the plastic and over Kyungsoo's small fingers as they sit on the edge of the pond and dangle their feet in the water.

It starts to get cold as the heat seeps out of the day and the shadows lengthen. Kyungsoo tells Jongin of his high school days, of how close he came to going to college. Jongin listens, enraptured. He wonders just quite how Kyungsoo is only a year older than him when he feels insignificant in the shadow of the other man's words.

Jongin discovers he likes Kyungsoo's smile best at this time: it's soft like gentle blades of grass, and easy. He likes how Kyungsoo opens like a flower at night, how he lets the tension ebb from his shoulders and lets himself unfurl in front of Jongin. Jongin likes to think that he's the only one who sees this.

"What about you?" Kyungsoo murmurs, his voice just another note in the delicate symphony of the night. "Jongin? What's your favourite poem?"

The twilight sets in around them and the insects jump like music notes from the pond. Jongin looks down at Kyungsoo's hand, mere inches from his thigh. They're so close and Jongin feels that ache work its way like liquid fire along his chest as he stares at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, who looks so beautiful under the stars spilled out over the sky. Kyungsoo, who relaxes into the moonlight so easily. Kyungsoo, who Jongin thinks might be just about the realest person he has ever known.

"Still looking." Jongin says slowly, and Kyungsoo looks at him like he wants to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

He doesn't, and soon it gets too cold to sit out there with their legs ankle-deep in the still, glassy water.

--

"Who are you taking to prom, then?" Chanyeol asks one day in the middle of June.

Jongin starts. He'd forgotten about that. "I...nobody yet."

"You have someone in mind?"

Jongin thinks about cartilage piercings and ripped jeans and dark, styled jeans. "Maybe. I don't know. We don't- I'm not- we're not like that."

"Who are they?" Chanyeol peers at him, a small smile quirking on his jaw. "Anyone I know?"

"No." Jongin shakes his head. "No. He's my- my- my- well, I don't what he is."

He's my Kyungsoo.

--

They're sitting cross-legged on the grass opposite each other when Jongin finally gathers the courage up to ask Kyungsoo. He threads his fingers through the thin grass and stares down at the laces of his bright shoes next to Kyungsoo's. The sun hangs over them in the sky, glaring down on Jongin like a huge spotlight.

He draws breath.

"Kyungsoo?"

"Jongin?"

"I- I don't really know how to say this. I'm not very good at...that is to say, this is awkward for me...I just don't know if you..."

"Um."

"Kyungsoo, I- I have prom in two weeks. And it's a dumb occasion and it's a dumb thing to ask and I never wanted to go with someone before but then we met and I- I wanna go with you. I really do. Will you come with me?" He finishes lamely, looking up at Kyungsoo. A flash of something passes over those honest eyes and Kyungsoo's whole face seems to shut itself off before he's laughing. He's laughing?

"You're laughing?"

"You can't be serious, Jongin." Kyungsoo murmurs, and there's something about his loud laughter that doesn't quite ring true with Jongin.

"Kyungsoo?"

"Prom, Jongin? Seriously? How old are you?" Jongin hears Kyungsoo say, watching his mouth curl up into a sneer.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Jongin, it's just...prom? I guess I didn't realise how much of a kid you were."

And there they are, those horrible little words painting the summer sky, chipping away at the corners of the perfect day. Jongin swallows.

"I thought you...I thought that we had something." He says, blinking furiously as he hears the stupid words click off his tongue.

"So what do you want from me? A confession? A flower bouquet? A poem? For me to hold your hand at school?" Kyungsoo mocks with a raised eyebrow, and Jongin flinches back, getting up in one quick motion.

"You dick." Jongin bites out, wanting to flick his ammunition at Kyungsoo until he sees a dent in that damned impenetrable armour. "Fuck, I thought- I thought..."

Kyungsoo says nothing, and it's his expression that breaks Jongin right down, that crumbles him to a pile of rubble on the floor.

"Fuck." He says quietly, simply, looking at Kyungsoo one more time before he turns on his heel and lopes away through the crystal clear afternoon. And then, just because he's weak, he turns around. Turns around and watches Kyungsoo with that same blank expression cutting through him like a dead-straight laser beam. Shot right to the heart.

--

"I need to get through." Jongin says through gritted teeth as Kyungsoo blocks the entrance to the storeroom. It's his last day at the café, and the monsoon season is on its way, leaving a dryness in the air and unmistakable feeling of the calm before the storm.

"I need to-" Jongin starts again, before realising that Kyungsoo isn't going to move and pushing straight past him. The sticky air of the storeroom hits him as he moves across the floor in big, long strides.

He stands over the crates of coffee unmoving until he hears a gentle breath behind him. He spins around so suddenly that he loses balance slightly, nearly falling onto Kyungsoo. Strong arms shoot out to steady him, grasping each forearm with surprising intensity.

And there Kyungsoo is, inches away, staring at him with those honest, deep eyes. Jongin feels his breath, like a summer breeze, on his cheeks. His eyes flick to the piercing shining in Kyungsoo's ear and a rush passes through him suddenly, flicking like fire through his veins. A rush which screamswantwantwant and unsteadies him even as Kyungsoo locks him to the ground.

He inhales. He leans just that tiniest bit closer.

Kyungsoo shoves him away suddenly, the force and surprise of the push landing Jongin against the cold wall. Jongin stares and stares and stares at Kyungsoo but can't follow all the paths of emotion over his well-travelled face.

His eyes dart up to the clock. The hands click to eight thirty and his last shift is over.

He doesn't even bother saying goodbye as he sweeps out of the storeroom, out of the café and down the long path out of the park.

--

Jongin doesn't like the ache that now settles in his chest. It's there when he flicks through his lit textbooks before his exams. It's there when he steals some of Soojung's Iced Americano in the hot summer afternoons. It's there when Baekhyun giggles to Joonmyun about prom and Jongin tries not to notice just how close their heads are together.

He doesn't know quite what to call it. Sadness doesn't seem quite right, loneliness is not fitting and incompleteness can't quite cover it. Regret? He's never liked that word.

"Baek, I... I don't need a plus one anymore."

"Are you okay? Jongin?"

Jongin always wonders why it is that someone can be perfectly alright until that one simple question breaks them right down again.

"I'm- I'm...okay. Just a little bruised, I guess."

Baekhyun sits down next to Jongin on the bench on the school field and nudges his thigh into Jongin's. It's a little strange, but it's warm, and it's nice, and Jongin's missed the contact. "Hey." Baekhyun murmurs softly when Jongin stares at his toes, peeking through the well-worn toes of his trainers. "Hey, it's okay."

Jongin smiles a little, and Baekhyun shakes the hair out of his eyes as he gathers up his legs to his chest.

"You're still coming, right?"

Jongin swallows and then pastes a grin onto his face. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

--

Jongin doesn't break a promise, and he's honest to a fault. That's his problem, he thinks as he swings his tux jacket over his shoulders. So he's going to prom whether he likes it or not, partnered or alone.

He looks around his empty room and sighs as he sits down on the bed. Definitely alone, then.

His phone buzzes on the bed.

Meet me by the pagoda in half an hour?

The number's unknown and Jongin tries to kid himself that he doesn't know just who it is as he shoves his leather patent shoes on and starts down the road to the park.

It's nice out, probably one of the last glorious days before the monsoons come, and Jongin loves the smell of the rain hanging in the air. It's quiet out, and the flowers sway gentle in the early evening breeze.

Jongin reaches the formal garden, ducking through the entrance and coming out into the open to see a figure standing under the pagoda, staring at the still water.

Kyungsoo comes into full view, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black blazer with an untied tie snaking around his neck and his legs shockingly covered by unripped black dress trousers.

Jongin gapes.

Kyungsoo looks up.

"I-"

"-your slightest look easily will unclose me," Kyungsoo begins all in a rush, the words streaming out of him like lava flow, his voice that ever so slightest bit hoarse, "though i have closed myself as fingers, / you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens / (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose."

Jongin stares at Kyungsoo, standing so perfectly over the pond, like some kind of vision in a well-pressed suit. He grasps his own fingers and tries to open his lips.

"About now would be a good time to tell me if I'm just an idiot who's wasted too much money on a prom suit or..."

"Or?" Jongin asks, his feet stuck to the spot as he stares at Kyungsoo.

"Not." Kyungsoo whispers with the tiniest of half smiles. "Or not."

Jongin shakes his head slightly as if he is trying to make sense of all this.

"I am an idiot." Kyungsoo begins, and Jongin lets out a half-laugh, half-sob at the sudden truth and unexpectedness of the statement.

"I am a dick." He goes on, and Jongin nods his agreement.

"I am...emotionally unavailable..."

"I couldn't agree more."

"...so much so that I push people away. Good people. People like you."

Jongin says nothing.

"But I- selfishly, I still want you." Kyungsoo says slowly, carefully, handling each word as if it is made of the most fragile glass.

Jongin swallows and takes a step forward. "You do?"

"I really-" Kyungsoo pauses, holding his hand up to his face to shield the sun from his eyes. He swallows, and Jongin can watch him gaining his strength to say what he wants to. "I really like you, Jongin."

And then, Jongin can only really take those final few steps towards him and tumble into his arms. And after that, he can only really kiss Kyungsoo again and again and again, like he's been wanting to do since forever.

"I can't believe you." He whispers as he rests his forehead on Kyungsoo's.

Kyungsoo swallows and pushes Jongin gently back by the shoulders, fumbling in his pocket for something. It's a daisy, small and bright in Kyungsoo's palm. He holds it out to Jongin, looking so stupidly proud of himself and absurdly kissable and perfectly Kyungsoo.

"I- Jongin, would you- what I mean to say is, could we – do you want to go to prom with me?" Kyungsoo stutters out, pressing the daisy into Jongin's warm, large palm and staring at the grass beneath their shoes.

Jongin smiles his stupid grin and leans in to kiss the tip of Kyungsoo's nose, ridiculously happy. "Did you just invite me to my own prom?"

"Ah. I think I must have." Kyungsoo mutters, twisting nearer to Jongin and wrapping his arms around his waist. "Strange, that. Is that a yes? Am I keeping the suit?"

"You're definitely keeping the suit." Jongin growls as he finally, finally, finally gets his lips around that silver piercing. He pulls gently with his teeth and Kyungsoo tries to hide a gasp behind his lips. "Although I think I preferred the ripped jeans."

Kyungsoo snorts. "You just wanted to cop a feel in those."

Jongin doesn't even argue as he pulls Kyungsoo back to him.

And then his phone vibrates in his pocket.

"It's Baekhyun." Jongin supplies with irritation, answering the call with frustration.

"Where you at?" Baekhyun fairly yells down the phone.

Jongin smirks into the phone. "Looks like prom is gonna be bitchin' after all."