Archive of Our Own

“Hey, are you even listening to me?”

Jongin, who had definitely not been listening, jerks in his seat at the bar and looks sheepishly over at his friend. Taemin narrows his eyes at him. “Sorry, what were you saying?” he says, trying to sound as apologetic as possible.

“I was saying that you should buy the next round,” Taemin replies pointedly lifting up his empty glass and Jongin snorts.

“Nice try,” he says, looking back out over the club. A remixed Maroon 5 song is playing and there’s a crowd of people dancing on the floor. Everywhere he looks, it’s packed.

Jongin isn't really the Friday-night, bar-hopping kind of guy. He'd much rather go home after work, curl up on the couch with Monggu, his beautiful poodle, and watch all the Iron Man movies. Sometimes, he'll end up lounging in bed instead with one of his favorite Bernard Werber novels, reading late into the night before passing out. He doesn't come to clubs to get smashed or hook up with someone, not that he finds any of that wrong. It's just not his style.

He likes spending time at home but it's been one of Those Weeks, where everything seemed to go wrong. It started small, spilling the coffee he'd begrudgingly made himself to stay awake Monday morning all over his reports, and ending with being late to an important client meeting that Friday afternoon. The meeting only went downhill from there, or maybe it was just Jongin's nerves and his embarrassment for showing up late, but everyone's beady eyes watching him stumble over his presentation hadn't helped one bit. By the time he’d finished, he'd felt totally defeated and Junmyeon's grim pat on the shoulder only made him feel worse.

He sighs, remembering, and lifts his barely touched soda to his lips. Taemin turns to him with concerned eyes and says, “If you didn’t want to come out, you didn’t have to.”

Jongin shakes his head, not wanting to make it seem like anything was wrong. “I did want to come,” he says honestly. He’s been worrying over the mess he made ever since he got home and he’d been wallowing on the couch with Monggu when Taemin had texted him, demanding to meet up. Usually it’d take longer to coax Jongin away from home, but that night Jongin thought he really needed to get out of the apartment. He figured he could hang out with Taemin and not drink, do something to forget about this terrible week before heading home. It'd be fine.

Except now that he’s here, Jongin realizes he’s even less in the mood for a night out than he thought. “I’m sorry,” he says to Taemin. “I’m not being very good company.”

“Look, I know this isn’t your scene, but you could still try to have some fun,” Taemin says and he gives Jongin a little punch in the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m good for now,” Jongin says, taking another sip of his drink. “So if you wanna do something about that girl you’ve been making eyes with for the past ten minutes, go ahead.”

Taemin splutters but raises his brow at Jongin a little hopefully and Jongin laughs, waves him off. “You’re a good friend,” Taemin says to him seriously, a testament that he’s already halfway drunk, and then he’s off, weaving around the crowd toward the girl with long dark hair, standing off to the side with her friends.

Jongin watches them for a moment, the way Taemin’s smiling at her and how her eyes are bright even if she’s seemingly playing hard to get, and then sighs, turns away. Even though he’s glad Taemin’s having a good time, Jongin can’t help but feel a little lonely now. He sighs, nursing his soda and debating what to do with himself. Reading up on Chelsea's recent matches and upcoming games only takes his mind off things for awhile, and by the time he's finished his drink, Jongin thinks he should probably just text Taemin himself that he's heading home.

Before he even has the chance, someone slides into the seat to his right and a low, soft voice asks, "Hey, could I buy you a drink?"

Jongin almost drops his phone in surprise, not expecting anyone to come approach him, when he's done nothing to warrant the attention, keeping entirely to himself. He shoves his phone into his pocket and looks up into the face of a handsome man. His dark hair is styled off his face and he's got this pretty smile on his lips, and Jongin swallows as he takes him in, uncertain but maybe a little intrigued, because well, this guy is really hot. "Uh, I--" Jongin starts, not sure how to tell this guy that he doesn't really drink alcohol, but also not sure that he wants to turn him down. Jongin did come out to forget about his crap week, so why not let himself enjoy tonight, even a little?

"It's okay if you don't want me to," the guy says and Jongin's struck again by how deep his voice is. It settles warm in Jongin's chest, surprisingly comforting despite not knowing the first thing about this guy. "I just saw you over here on your own and wanted to say hi. You don't see many people come to these places to just stare at their phone."

Jongin laughs a little despite himself. The guy's not wrong. "My friend ditched me," he says, and after a moment's hesitation, adds, "And, sure, you can buy me a drink, as long as you don't plan to ditch me right after, too."

"Not a chance," the guy says, grinning as he waves down the bartender, and he leans back in his stool a little more comfortably, relaxed now that Jongin hasn't rejected him. "I can't just leave someone as cute as you alone when I've finally got your attention."

Flushing, Jongin looks away, thankful when the bartender stops by to get their orders. He turns back to find the man watching him closely, but Jongin doesn't feel too nervous about it. There's something soft in his eyes, and his smile grows wider when Jongin introduces himself without having to be prompted.

"I'm Chanyeol," the man says, and he raises his glass toward Jongin's. "It's nice to meet you."

Jongin smiles back, knocking the neck of his beer bottle against Chanyeol's drink.

"No way would Saitama win in a fight against Goku, come on!" Jongin exclaims, smaking his hand against the countertop and not even registering the sting of pain it brings. It might be because he's had two more beers in the span of however long he's been sitting here talking with Chanyeol, but it might also be because Chanyeol's totally wrong and spouting lies.

"But it's fucking Saitama!" Chanyeol says just as strongly. "His entire character is based off being able to kill with one single punch! If he landed it, Goku would be done for!"

"See! If he did! And who's to say he'd manage before Goku totally just Super Saiyan's his ass?" Jongin huffs, grabbing his drink and downing the rest of it in frustration. "You're way off."

"Maybe," Chanyeol says with a little shrug. "Or maybe I'm just being contrary because it's cute seeing you get so worked up."

Jongin narrows his eyes at him, trying to fight back the heat flooding his cheeks. Chanyeol stares back evenly before he chuckles softly and turns away and Jongin bites his lip to keep from smiling too widely. Jongin's never been good at flirting, but Chanyeol has slipped in more than once how cute or handsome he thinks Jongin is over the past hour or so they've been talking. It might be because Jongin's drunk that he finds he doesn't mind as much he might usually, but he thinks even if he were sober, he would be okay with it because the attention is nice. Chanyeol is nice. And really attractive. And it's been a long time since Jongin's been in a relationship, let alone spent an evening letting a hot guy at a bar talk him up.

Chanyeol's terrible taste in characters isn't even enough to deflect from how hot he is. Not that Saitama is terrible though, Jongin quite likes One Punch Man, but anyone who thinks Thor is cooler than Iron Man is definitely a little unhinged at best. He's trying not to hold it against Chanyeol too much. At least he’s not a DC fan.

Jongin asks for a glass of water when the bartender, who’d Chanyeol introduced as Minseok when he’d gotten their drinks the second time, stops by again, and sips quietly on it, hoping it’ll help sober him up a little. He glances over at Chanyeol who is looking out at the dance floor, nodding along to the remixed version of a Beyonce song and asks, “Do you come here often?”

Chanyeol turns to him in surprise but then his features smooth out into a smile. “Yeah,” he says. “I DJ here sometimes, actually.”

“Really?” Jongin says, sitting up straighter. He hadn’t been expecting that. Chanyeol, dressed in fitted jeans and a nice button-up, doesn’t exactly scream deejay, but then again, Jongin doesn’t really know anything about deejaying to judge for sure.

Laughing, Chanyeol nods. “Is it that surprising?” he asks, but he doesn’t sound offended, just amused. “It’s just something I do on weekends for fun when I have the time or when they need someone to cover.”

“That’s really cool,” Jongin says and feels a little delighted at how Chanyeol’s ears turn pink, even as he grins back, clearly proud. “Are you working tonight?”

“Nah,” Chanyeol says, shaking his head. He brings his glass to his lips and drinks, and Jongin inexplicably finds himself watching closely, the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He looks away quickly and Chanyeol continues, “Jonghyun’s got it covered. I do work tomorrow night though.” He glances sideways at Jongin. “You should come check it out.”

Jongin hums thoughtfully, taking the time to consider, but laughs when Chanyeol pouts at him imploringly. “I suppose I could be persuaded to come back,” he says finally and grins when Chanyeol laughs, too.

“How about I start by getting you another drink?” he offers and Jongin nods, leaning back against his chair comfortably.

This isn’t how he expected the night to go, but he’s having a nice time despite everything. He’s still not sure where Taemin has gone, though he did catch sight of him in the crowd earlier, glad to know he’s alive, at least, and Chanyeol...Chanyeol is surprisingly good company. He’s a far cry from the kind of people Jongin expects to meet in a bar; his flirting has been pretty tame and he hasn’t done anything to suggest he’s interested in more than just spending the night and talking. Jongin likes that. It makes him feel much more relaxed, and, well, Chanyeol’s not so bad to look at either, so that helps.

“If you DJ on weekends, what do you do during the week?” Jongin asks, turning away from the DJ booth in the corner of the bar and back to Chanyeol. “Is it something music-related?”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “I’m actually a carpenter,” he says, and laughs at the stunned look on Jongin’s face. “Everyone always looks at me like that when I say it, but it’s true.” He holds his hands up at Jongin. “See? I even have proof.” He holds his hands out and Jongin tentatively takes one curiously, feels the roughness in his fingertips, the faded scars. “It’s something my grandfather did, building things. I learned a lot from him growing up, and I always really liked it.”

Jongin lets his hands go, pushing aside the way his own hands feel colder for it, and takes up his drink again. “So you decided to follow in his footsteps?”

“Sort of,” Chanyeol laughs. “I originally wanted to be an astronaut, I even studied for it in school, but things happened and it didn’t work out.” He shrugs, like it’s an old wound he’s grown to accept, that no longer aches as it once did. “My granddad needed help with his company and I joined in and ended up taking over when he passed a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says quickly, afraid of having brought up something unpleasant, but Chanyeol just waves a hand at him.

“It’s cool,” he says, smiling softly, and Jongin returns it, settled. “It’s fun, actually, what we do. We mostly work with restoring really old buildings. So I get to work in some fascinating historic places I wouldn’t get to see otherwise.” His smile widens as he talks, and Jongin likes how excited he looks, how passionate his words sound. It’s always something, meeting someone who is so proud of what they do. “Though I have considered taking classes so I could become a luthier,” he adds after a moment, looking pensive. “Then I could make my own guitars.”

Jongin laughs, shaking his head in amusement, though he is impressed. “I can’t imagine that would be easy to do, but you’re clearly good with your hands, so,” he says, only flushing a little at how it sounds.

Chanyeol, graciously, doesn’t comment, just nods. “I like building things,” he says. “It’s fun, and it’s like, therapeutic sometimes? I don’t know, but whenever I’m stressed, I just spend a night in the workshop hammering away at a little toy box or something and I feel better the next morning.”

“It’s good to have something like that,” Jongin agrees, even as his own heart drops in his chest as he struggles to think of what he has that’s the same. At one point, it used to be dancing, but Jongin hasn’t danced like that in so long he’s not so sure anymore. He doesn’t quite think taking Monggu on long walks is the same.

In the end, that’s kind of why he’s here tonight, isn’t it? Trying to let go of the stress from this past week at work by doing something different, something to take his mind off of everything. Maybe if he had something the way Chanyeol has his carpentry, then maybe Jongin wouldn’t have to be here, getting drunk to help himself forget. If that was the case, he also wouldn’t have met Chanyeol at all and that, somehow, is a thought Jongin doesn’t like.

He stares out at the dance floor again, watches people dancing together, the occasional shout of approval when the DJ plays a good song, the melodious laughter of friends having a good time together. When the music switches over to one of Jongin’s favorite songs by The Weeknd he sits up straighter, taps his foot along with the beat, says, “I love this song.”

Chanyeol grins next to him. “The Weeknd is great, right?” he says and Jongin thinks this might make up for his Thor comments earlier. Chanyeol downs the last of his drink and suddenly stands, holding a hand out at Jongin. “C’mon,” he says, “you have to dance if it’s your favorite.”

“I--” Jongin starts, but stops himself, wondering really what is keeping him from going out there. A few years ago, it’d have been impossible to drag him off the dance floor. He looks from Chanyeol’s hand up to his face, his brow raised expectantly and a little coaxing smirk on his lips, and he swallows, nods. He takes one last drink of his beer and then grabs Chanyeol’s hand, only stumbling a little as he slips off his stool. “Shit,” he laughs, dizzy, but relaxes as Chanyeol releases his hand to instead steady him with an arm around his waist. “I’m good, sorry.”

“You sure?” Chanyeol asks, forehead wrinkled in concern, and Jongin has the strangest thought that he’d like to kiss them away. He shoves that to the back of his mind as soon as it comes and nods quickly.

“Yes,” he says, as the room rights itself and he feels like he’s not going to fall right over. “Let’s go.”

Chanyeol, Jongin learns quickly enough, is not a dancer. He’s awkward and stiff and doesn’t seem to know what to do with his body, but none of that seems to stop him from having fun. His grin is as bright as when he’d first approached Jongin and eyes just as bright, and he settles his hands on Jongin’s hips like they belong there, trying to match Jongin’s movements. Jongin only notices now too just how tall Chanyeol is, easily a few inches taller than Jongin, and it’s rather infuriating how it only makes him that much more attractive.

“You’re really good at this,” Chanyeol says after a couple of songs, leaning in so Jongin can hear him over the music.

“I used to dance throughout school,” Jongin says, smiling a little proudly. It’s been a long time, but it doesn’t feel that way, falling into step with the music like it’s second nature.

“Not anymore?” Chanyeol asks, looking curious, and Jongin shakes his head.

“I haven’t really had the chance,” he says with a light shrug. “I don’t know I get so tired after work sometimes, I just want to stay at home and relax.”

“That’s a shame,” Chanyeol says. “You don’t miss it?”

“I do,” Jongin says without having to think about it and he realizes with a start just how much he does, how much he likes being out here on the floor now with Chanyeol, and even if Chanyeol barely matches the beat, it’s still so good to be here, enjoying the music, letting his body move along with every note.

Chanyeol is good at following along with Jongin’s lead, laughing whenever he accidentally bumps into someone or nearly trips over his own feet and Jongin laughs, too, entertained by his brightness, how he doesn’t let his terrible dancing get in the way. He sings along with just about every song that plays and Jongin falls victim to the way his lips move a little too often, the way his hands are warm at his hips, fingertips only barely brushing up against his skin as they dance. Jongin isn’t sure how much time passes like this, the pounding of the music, the heat of the packed dance floor, the throng of people moving together and Chanyeol holding him steady throughout it all, the one too many beers Jongin had earlier--it’s all blending together, blurring any concept of time. He leans into Chanyeol’s touch when he reaches out to brush Jongin’s bangs from his face, fingers gently tracing down his cheek, and Jongin’s eyes drop to his mouth instinctively, thinking if he leaned in even a little he could kiss him, thinks he wouldn’t mind.

He’s caught staring this time, but Chanyeol just smiles, and whispers into his ear, “You want to get out of here?”

Jongin, any other day, might say no, but Chanyeol...he feels good, feels safe, and it’s been a long time since Jongin’s let himself enjoy something like this. He licks his lips and is vindicated when he catches Chanyeol looking, and nods. “Okay,” he says breathlessly, and Chanyeol drops his hand from his face to take his hand instead.

Jongin’s barely gotten his coat back on before Chanyeol’s pulling him away from the entrance to instead press him against the brick wall of the building and kiss him. Warm hands cup his face and Jongin’s gasp of surprise melts away into the surprisingly tender press of Chanyeol’s lips, the heat of his tongue, slick and smooth as Jongin lets him in. He can barely feel the January cold at all, enveloped so completely like this, and he laughs, dazed, when Chanyeol pulls back eventually, grinning before he turns to flag down a cab.

Jongin sits in close beside Chanyeol in the cab, thighs snug against each other and Chanyeol’s fingers lacing through with his own, thumb brushing over his knuckles. It’s soothing, easing out the frantic thump of his heart and lulling him into a light doze against Chanyeol’s shoulder.

When he’s jolted awake again, they’ve arrived in front of Chanyeol’s apartment building, and Chanyeol’s paying the fare to the cabbie as Jongin struggles to find his balance out on the ground. Chanyeol shuffles out after him, settles an arm around Jongin’s waist like it’s natural, and leads him inside. A little of his earlier nervousness trickles back through his veins as they ride the elevator up, but Jongin does his best to push it back, focus on how nice it’d felt to kiss Chanyeol, on how nice Chanyeol has been the entire evening, not asking for anything until he seemed sure that Jongin was truly interested. And he is, even if he’s a little uncertain at the same time.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Chanyeol says grandly once he’s unlocked the door and held it open for Jongin, who just rolls his eyes at the line and lets himself in. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Uh, just some water would be good,” Jongin says and Chanyeol gives his wrist a light squeeze before he disappears into the kitchen.

Jongin pulls off his coat, sets it down on the burnt-orange couch. It’s not something he’d pick for himself, but it seems to suit Chanyeol’s personality to a tee, as does the eclectic art hung up on the walls and the three guitars perched on stands in the corner next to a keyboard. Jongin wanders around with interest, stopping at a bookshelf that is packed to the brim with CDs and novels; the entire Muse discography seems to be present, along with some Beenzino, Jason Mraz and Hyukoh records.

“You like sci-fi?” Jongin asks, excited, seeing a few of his favorite books on the shelves, some by Higashino Keigo. He plucks The Devotion of Suspect X off the shelf and flips through it even though he’s read it many times already. “Have you read Bernard Werber?”

Chanyeol shakes his head, smiling as he hands Jongin a glass of water. Jongin gasps, quickly putting the book away as he says, “You have to, he’s amazing. The Les Thanatonautes series is so good, I reread it all the time when I’m bored. Even when I’m not bored, really.”

“Maybe you should let me borrow it then sometime,” Chanyeol says and he settles down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table and showing off just how long his legs are. Jongin pulls his gaze away quickly, continues his scan around the room. “Or are you one of those book-types who never lets anyone touch their copies ever? Has two of each, one for reading and ruining, one to keep pristine on display?”

He’s teasing and Jongin flashes him a mysterious grin, shrugging. “I could be,” he says, but really he isn’t like that. At least not much. He is very protective of his copies of One Piece, at least. “But maybe I’ll let you borrow them because clearly you need to be educated on true science-fiction.”

“I’m honored,” Chanyeol laughs, his eyes shining as he watches Jongin’s every move. It doesn’t bother Jongin as much as he’d expect, and he’s pleased once again at just how easy it is to talk to Chanyeol, to be here with him.

He stops at the keyboard and presses down on a random note, purses his lips as he tries to play Hot Cross Buns on the black keys, laughing at his mediocrity even as Chanyeol claps for him, delighted. “You can play!” he exclaims and Jongin flushes, shaking his head quickly.

“Nah, my four year old niece taught me that,” he says, giving the keyboard one last poke before dropping his hand. “She’s a genius.”

“Cute?”

“The cutest,” Jongin says seriously, rushing over to the couch so he can set his drink down and pull out his phone, tapping at the screen. He shows Chanyeol pictures of Rahee he has saved, telling him all of the elaborate stories that go along with each one like the time she held a baby bird that had broken its wing in her backyard or how she ended up playing with the boring Barbie dolls instead of the awesome kid’s car Jongin had bought for her, and the time Jongin was made to dress up as Sailor Venus to go along with her frantic wish to be Artemis.

Jongin quickly tries to flip past those pictures but Chanyeol grabs his hand to look, laughing at first at the ridiculousness and cooing at how cute Rahee is, before he goes a little silent at the next picture, the rare selca Jongin had taken in his outfit for prosterity. Now, though, he wishes he’d deleted it, but then Chanyeol turns to him and says, “You make a very hot Sailor Scout.”

“Oh my god,” Jongin says, dropping his phone in favor of hiding his burning face behind his hands. He doesn’t manage it very well as Chanyeol takes his wrists and gently pulls him free, eyeing him with the most intensity he’s done all night.

“Can I--” he starts but Jongin doesn’t let him finish, surging forward to kiss him instead, groaning into it as some sense of relief washes over him. It feels right, this, the way Chanyeol’s arms wrap around him and pull him practically into his lap, the way Jongin’s fingers sink into Chanyeol’s dark hair, keeping him in place as he meets his lips kiss after kiss.

There’s the lingering taste of the whiskey Chanyeol’s been drinking for most of the night on his tongue that he hadn’t really noticed before and while it might usually bother him, he’s enjoying this too much to care. Chanyeol is really good at this, holding Jongin securely in his arms, letting him lead without protest and kissing back as hard as he gets. The alcohol makes Jongin bolder, eager, and he feels hot, stifled in the comfy sweater he’s wearing that when Chanyeol makes to tug it off, Jongin lifts his arms over his head to let him. He only has on a thin t-shirt underneath and it’s much easier for Chanyeol to slip his hands beneath the fabric, pressing flat up against his stomach, and Jongin gasps back into his mouth, shivering from the touch, his own hands falling from Chanyeol’s hair to the buttons on his shirt.

“Let’s--wait, let’s move--” Chanyeol says in between kisses, and it takes a moment for both of them to separate long enough to get off the couch. Chanyeol’s bedroom is just as interesting as his living room, a few band posters up on the walls and another bookshelf, this time filled with manga that Jongin recognizes.

“You have good taste,” he says, and startles when he looks back up and Chanyeol’s rid himself of his shirt. Jongin swallows, letting his eyes slide over the newly exposed skin, and he’s surprised by the definition in his arms that his sleeves had done a very good job of hiding all night.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says, stepping in closer, and Jongin instinctively runs his hands up Chanyeol’s biceps, likes the way he shudders a little under his touch. “Do you have a favorite?”

“One Piece,” Jongin says without having to think about it and Chanyeol laughs, leaning in to whisper, “Me, too,” before he closes the space between them again. With hands back on Jongin’s hips the way they’d danced together at the bar, Chanyeol guides him backwards toward the bed, carefully lowering Jongin down and crawling up after him. Chanyeol slides a hand up under Jongin’s shirt to his chest, fingers passing over his nipples and drawing out a low, pleased sound from Jongin’s throat. He breaks the kiss long enough to yank his shirt off over his head and scoots back on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. He doesn’t get very far before something underneath the haphazardly done covers gets in his way and Jongin feels around for whatever it is and returns with a small Rilakkuma plushie.

“Oh,” he says, looking at it, and then over at Chanyeol, who has turned a sudden red to the tips of his ears and Jongin looks back down at the plushie before he laughs. He can’t seem to stop himself either, laughing louder and harder than he has all night and probably all week, if he could stop and really think about it but he can’t because this, after everything, is just too damn unexpected. “I’m sorry--I just, fuck,” Jongin wheezes, lifting up the plushie to look at it better and doubling over in laughter all over again.

It doesn’t help at all that Chanyeol snatches it out of his grasp, muttering, “Jesus, I can’t believe this,” under his breath as he rolls off the bed to practically throw the plushie into his closet. Jongin is still laughing when he spins around, stopping to stare at him on the bed, his humiliation suddenly fading away into something else, something more wondrous as he looks at Jongin.

“What?” he asks curiously. His face hurts a little from all his mirth and he still can’t manage to stop his lips from twitching into an amused smile, even as he watches Chanyeol return to the bed, eyes soft.

“You should always laugh like that,” Chanyeol says, letting his index finger tap gently at Jongin’s lower lip and now Jongin is the one flushing in embarrassment.

“How can you say things like that so easily,” he demands, but it comes out more like a whine even to him.

Chanyeol shrugs, lounging down on the bed, head propped up on a hand as he looks at Jongin, who lies on his back, stretches out his legs. “I just don’t overthink it, I guess?” he says. “And, well, you really are beautiful so it’s not like I’m lying.”

Jongin lets his eyes roam up Chanyeol’s long legs and over his arms again, the sharp lines of his collarbones and back to his face. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he says and Chanyeol smirks.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jongin replies and rolls over onto his side so he’s facing Chanyeol properly, smiles as Chanyeol steals a quick kiss.

“You know, I was wondering about you for awhile before I went over to say hi,” Chanyeol says and Jongin blinks, a little surprised by the sudden admission but also curious. He pulls one of Chanyeol’s pillows down and snuggles his head against it comfortably, waits for him to continue, “I was like how could someone that gorgeous be here alone? I thought for sure you were waiting for your equally gorgeous girlfriend or something.”

Jongin laughs, shaking his head. Not even close, he thinks. “Then why did you come over?”

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol says softly, and he’s leisurely trailing his fingers up Jongin’s bare arm, and it tickles a little, the unexpected touch, but it’s also nice. Soothing, the way Chanyeol held his hand in the cab ride over. So much about Chanyeol makes him feel good and relaxed and it’s been a long time since Jongin’s felt like this with anyone he’s only just met. “The more I looked over, the more...lonely you seemed to be,” he says and Jongin feels his gut tighten at the words, at how Chanyeol was able to see right through him that evening. “So, tell me,” he says, shuffling a little closer. “What were you doing at the bar on your own?”

“I told you right? My friend ditched me,” Jongin says with a little shrug.

“But you stayed,” Chanyeol points out.

“I stayed,” Jongin agrees, and it still surprises him that he did. That he didn’t just leave the second Taemin went off on his own. Jongin licks his lips thoughtfully, feels how they’re a little swollen from all the kissing, and glances up into Chanyeol’s eyes. He’s always watching Jongin with such intent, like every little word from Jongin’s lips is priceless information and he can’t get enough. It’s flattering, that kind of attention, but Jongin’s not really used to it, looking away again as he says quietly, “I thought I might get fired today.”

The confession is almost freeing, the second he says it. It’s also horrifying, his chest squeezing so tight it’s like someone is curling their fingers around his lungs. The thought, it’s been there all day, lingering at the back of his mind after his miserable presentation, the look Junmyeon had given him when he finished, the staggering silence of his own apartment when he returned home that night, weary and exhausted.

“I fucked up so badly today with this major presentation and the whole week has been hell to begin with so it was like the icing on the fucking cake, so to speak,” Jongin says.

“One bad week doesn’t mean you’re getting fired,” Chanyeol says softly, reassuringly. His fingers have found their way into Jongin’s hair now, and he’s petting him so tenderly it makes Jongin’s heart ache.

“It might be,” Jongin sighs, even though the certainty in Chanyeol’s voice already makes him feel better. “It just really sucked, so when my friend suggested going out, I said yes, because, well, I needed the distraction and I wasn’t doing anything at home other than wallow.”

“Sometimes a good wallow is therapeutic though,” Chanyeol chuckles. “Nothing like spending the night in with a bucket of ice cream, honestly.”

Jongin smiles despite himself, his eyes closing as he curls in a little closer to Chanyeol’s warmth, lets the gentle touch of his fingers in his hair pull him into a comforting sense of security. After this awful week, this is something he didn’t know he needed, this closeness, someone to just...listen to him without judgement, and it’s draining all the tension, the worry from his body. All that’s left is the sleepiness from a night out and the lingering warmth of alcohol in his system, making him even more drowsy.

“I was gonna order a bucket of fried chicken instead,” Jongin confesses, smiling wider as Chanyeol laughs. “It’s my favorite.” He tiredly pulls the pillows under his head a little more comfortably, adds, “I’m glad I came out though.”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol says in a low voice. “Did you find your distraction?”

Jongin curls his fingers around Chanyeol’s wrist blindly and breathes, “Yes,” before the hands of slumber finally pull him asleep.

It’s with a start that Jongin wakes the next morning, jerking around in bed wildly because this isn’t his room, this is--It takes a moment but then everything slowly floods his mind, flashes of last night bright behind his eyes and he groans, putting his head in his hands as his hangover hits him like he’s been struck by a baseball bat.

“Fuck,” he groans, blinking away the tendrils of sleep in his eyes and trying to make sense of where he is. It’s Chanyeol’s apartment. He remembers Chanyeol, handsome, tall, kind Chanyeol, the taste of his kisses and the warmth of his touch, and Jongin feels his face heat up as it all comes back. He glances down at himself, but he’s still half-undressed like he’d been when he passed out, only now tucked under the covers. At the foot of his bed is his sweater and t-shirt, folded up nicely, and his phone resting on top of that. Jongin vaguely remembers dropping it by the couch when they’d kissed.

Moving feels like a terrible idea, what with the way his head is pounding, but he forces himself out of the bed and yanks on his clothes again. His phone is lighting up with missed messages, mostly from Taemin, checking to make sure he’s alive and giving Jongin a very unwanted play-by-play of his successful night. Jongin’s not sure how to explain his own night, so he just sends back a quick message that he’s fine and shoves his phone into his back pocket.

He stops in the bathroom in the hall to freshen up, splashing cold water on his face a few times. It helps wake him up and he takes a few deeps breaths before he steps back out to face the remnants of last night.

Chanyeol is in the living room, lounging on the couch with his legs stretched out on the coffee table the way he had the night before. He has a laptop in his lap and large, headphones over his head, but he looks up and smiles so brightly when Jongin walks in that all his nervousness vanishes. “Hey!” Chanyeol says in a booming voice, only to wince as he remembers his headphones and quickly pulls them down around his neck. “Sorry, I forgot--but hey. You’re up. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, surprisingly,” Jongin says. Other than the headache, he’s fine.

“Good,” Chanyeol says, pleased. He pats the space on the couch next to him and Jongin takes the invitation, pulling the ends of his sleeves over his fingers as he sits. “I kind of got the impression you don’t go out like that very often.”

Jongin cracks a little smile at that. “What gave me away?” he jokes, but then nods. “Yeah, I don’t drink a lot in general, but I needed--”

“The distraction, yes. I remember,” Chanyeol says gently, reaching out to pat Jongin’s knee before pulling his hand away and Jongin swallows down the instant desire to grab his hand back.

“I didn’t say or do anything weird, did I?” Jongin asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for falling asleep like that, too, god, how embarrassing--”

“Jongin,” Chanyeol says, cutting over him, and Jongin starts at the way his name sounds in Chanyeol’s deep voice. “It’s okay. I understand. And no, you didn’t say anything weird. Everything you said...honestly, it made me just like you more.”

It’s too early to blush like this but Jongin can’t help it, not when Chanyeol is looking at him so fondly, too. He finds he can’t look away, finds that maybe he doesn’t want to, even as his gaze drops to Chanyeol’s mouth for a brief second before he looks back up. Everything should feel awkward after last night, but it doesn’t, not really. Chanyeol is every bit as comfortable and reassuring as he was the night before and Jongin…

He leans forward to kiss him once on the mouth, lips quirking in amusement at Chanyeol’s gasped surprise, and even in the light of day, this feels good, feels almost right. That’s too much to think about though, so Jongin will just focus on how he likes it, the way Chanyeol cups the side of his face and kisses him a little harder, deeper, drawing a tiny moan from Jongin’s lips when they part.

“Not that that wasn’t nice,” Chanyeol starts, eyes fluttering open to find Jongin’s, “but I think you should brush your teeth.”

“Fuck,” Jongin groans, hiding his face in the back of the couch. Chanyeol’s laugh fills up the whole room and it’s not mocking, just pleasant, the way he pats Jongin’s knee again.

“I’m pretty sure I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” Chanyeol says and he pulls his headphones off, setting them carefully atop his keyboard and moving his laptop to the coffee table. “Come on--I mean, well, if you want. I don’t know if you have anywhere you need to be or--”

Jongin shakes his head quickly. He could go home but he’s not so sure that he wants to. The fact that Chanyeol isn’t kicking him out helps him say, “I’m free all day.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says and Jongin thinks he lets out a breath of relief. “Because you mentioned you liked chicken last night and I was thinking maybe we could go out for some.”

“That sounds great,” Jongin says, his stomach grumbling at just the thought.

“I can loan you a different shirt, too, if you want,” Chanyeol says, gesturing at him as Jongin follows him back to the bathroom, watches from the doorway as Chanyeol crouches down to search under the sink for his extra toothbrush.

“You don’t have to go through so much trouble,” Jongin protests, even if he thinks he’d feel better in something fresh.

Chanyeol jumps back up to his feet, brandishing a purple toothbrush, still in its packaging. Jongin grins as he takes it from him and Chanyeol says, “It’s no problem. And, well, it’s kind of an incentive, you know. Since you’d have to meet me again to return it, right?”

“Unless I mailed it back to you,” Jongin teases. “Problem solved.”

“Hey,” Chanyeol whines, clearly put out, and Jongin laughs, even if it makes his head hurt a little to do so.

“A shirt would be nice,” he says finally, reaching up to pat Chanyeol’s cheek. Chanyeol’s pout transforms back into a smile and he slips out of the bathroom to find him one, and Jongin looks into his reflection in the mirror, the bright smile on his own face, and doesn’t regret his decision.

“I know this is kind of a sore subject, so you don’t have to tell me, but--what is it that you do?” Chanyeol asks curiously, sitting across from him at a KFC.

Jongin chews quietly around his mouthful of chicken and licks his lips and he considers how to answer. “I work at CUNY as a marketing manager,” he says and laughs at the blank look on Chanyeol’s face. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol says. “I’m not sure what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it.”

Jongin shrugs, smiling a little. “I was recently promoted, actually, because the previous manager moved to Phoenix or something,” Jongin explains. “It’d been going well for awhile. I like what I do, more or less, I started there right after I got out of school and it’s been nice, but…”

“Last week,” Chanyeol supplies and Jongin nods, wiping his hands on a napkin and balling it up in his palm before letting it roll onto the table.

“There’s a lot more presenting and talking with clients than I’m used to,” Jongin says. “I’m not...a very good talker, I guess, so it’s been a struggle.”

“I don’t know, you talked my ear off about Goku last night,” Chanyeol says, grinning widely when Jongin laughs. “I get what you mean though, it’s not easy doing something you’re not used to. And I don’t want to give you like false security and say it wasn’t as bad as you think it was, but...It probably wasn’t as bad as you think it was.”

Chanyeol looks so sincere that Jongin just about believes him. He’s definitely much better at this reassuring thing than if Jongin had told Taemin, who probably would’ve clapped him on the back and told him to forget about it. He likes that Chanyeol’s not telling him to do that, because Jongin doesn’t think he could if he tried. “Thanks,” he says softly. “I hope so, too.” He picks up another piece of chicken and takes a bite out of it, adds after he’s swallowed, “I didn’t get fired yesterday, but who knows? Maybe they’re waiting until Monday.”

Chanyeol lightly nudges Jongin’s foot under the table, frowning. “Don’t think like that,” he chides. “They just promoted you! I doubt they’d let you go that easily. Maybe they’re just realizing you need more assistance, or you’re not ready for this new role, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting fired.”

“I suppose,” Jongin murmurs. What Chanyeol’s saying makes total sense, but Jongin isn’t sure what to believe, isn’t sure he’ll get rid of this anxious knot in the pit of his stomach until he goes into work on Monday and finds out everything is, indeed, okay. “I hope you’re right, anyway,” Jongin adds, smiling at him gratefully.

“I’m always right,” Chanyeol says grandly, pulling a laugh from Jongin. “You’ll see.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Jongin switches the topic. “Tell me more about what you do, it sounds way more interesting than my job.”

Chanyeol takes the bait easily, launching into a recent project he’s had to work on animatedly. Jongin learns all about how one of Chanyeol’s coworkers, Jongdae, had accidentally dropped a hammer onto his foot, and when Amber accidentally installed a set of new windows upside down, or the time they got in an order of new floorboards but somehow came in the complete wrong color and they had to frantically get it returned within their impending deadline. The way he talks is entertaining and heartfelt, and Jongin finds himself laughing and enjoying every minute of every little story, the way Chanyeol’s eyes light up when he talks about his friends, how clearly passionate he is about his work.

“A lot of the stuff in my apartment, I built myself,” Chanyeol says proudly, sitting up a little straighter and looking at Jongin in a way that hopes to impress. “If you’re ever in need of furniture, you should let me know. I’ll give you a discount.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Jongin chuckles and Chanyeol nods, looking satisfied.

By the time they wrap up lunch and head back out into the cold, Jongin’s headache is a dull throb and he feels much more alive than when he woke up. He’s also surprisingly disappointed about having to say goodbye, but there’s nothing else keeping him and he should go home, check on Monggu and maybe take a long, hot shower.

“I had a lot of fun last night--uh, today,” Jongin says, unsure exactly how to define their time together, but Chanyeol just smiles down at him, a little amused, a little charmed. “It probably wasn’t what you expected when you offered to buy me a drink but--”

“It was better,” Chanyeol cuts in and Jongin can’t be sure he really means that, but everything in his voice, and the soft way he looks at Jongin only suggests he’s being honest. It makes Jongin flush, shove his hands into the pockets of his coat and glance down at the snowy sidewalk. “It was really nice meeting you, spending time with you.” There’s the same sort of softness in his voice that was in his eyes and it makes Jongin relaxed enough to look back up at him. He’s surprised to find Chanyeol looking a little bashful, suddenly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he meets Jongin’s gaze and adds, “I’m sure you’re probably sick of me by now, but--well, I’m deejaying tonight, I think I mentioned it before. And it’d be nice if you came to see. I mean, only if you want to, of course!”

Jongin laughs softly, pleased by the invitation, by Chanyeol’s sudden nervousness. This whole time he’s been so calm, collected, and it’s nice to see that even he can be uncertain. “Thanks for the offer,” Jongin says once he’s thought it over, “but I might have to pass tonight. Yesterday was enough of a night out for me.” Chanyeol’s expression drops in disappointment, his smile turning strained at the edges, and Jongin adds quickly, “But another time! Definitely, I’ll come.”

Chanyeol’s face lights back up at that and he nods. “I’m holding you to that,” he says, before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Can I--uh, can I get your number then?”

Flushing a little, Jongin nods. He doesn’t feel weird about this, not really. He wouldn’t mind seeing Chanyeol again. He had a good time with him and he doesn’t know if this is the start of something or if the next time they’ll do exactly what they’d intended last night and forget all about each other after, but he’s kind of curious to find out.

“I’ll see you, Jongin,” Chanyeol says after they’ve tucked their phones away, and Jongin shoves his hands into his pockets, gazing up at Chanyeol with a little bit of longing, like he’s already missing him even though they haven’t parted ways. He sucks in a breath when Chanyeol reaches out to brush away his bangs and leans forward to plant a soft kiss to Jongin’s forehead. He’s beaming when he pulls back, and Jongin can only stare after him a little breathless as he waves goodbye and heads down the street.

By the time he disappears from view and Jongin leaves to go home as well, the smile on his face feels impossible to break down.

Jongin is out on a run with Monggu Sunday morning when he gets a call from Taemin to come over right away. “Bring the puppy, it’s fine. I just want to talk to you,” Taemin says decisively before hanging up and Jongin stares at his phone for a few seconds before sighing deeply.

“Change of plans, Monggu,” Jongin says, reaching down to give him a little scratch behind the ears. Taemin’s apartment’s not too far, so Jongin heads over right away, wondering what the hell this could be about. He does have an idea, sure, because Taemin’s demanded over text to tell him what happened Friday night but Jongin’s been mostly evasive.

Taemin looks somehow both annoyed and pleased to see him when Jongin shows up at his door, ushering him in and wrinkling his nose. “Damn, I should’ve told you to go shower before coming here, now you’ll stink up my whole apartment,” he says, but he laughs when Jongin shoves him hard as he heads for the couch, unleashing Monggu so he can explore at free will.

“I could just go right back home and not tell you anything at all,” Jongin offers but Taemin narrows his eyes at him in a way that if he even tried, Jongin wouldn’t get as far as the door.

“You can’t hide it from me forever, Jongin,” he says. “I did see you talking with some guy at the bar. You looked like you were having fun. I’m sorry for ditching you so soon, especially since I was the one who called you out--”

“It’s fine, I already know you’re a dick,” Jongin laughs, Taemin kicking him from where he’s on the floor with Monggu.

“I was worried, though. I texted you a bunch of times. What had you so preoccupied you couldn’t even tell me you were alive?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Jongin flushes, looking away even though there really isn’t anything to be ashamed of. He’s just not sure how much of Jongin’s night Taemin will even believe.

As it is, Taemin is right; Jongin can’t hide it from him forever. He takes a deep breath and says, “The guy from the bar. Chanyeol. I went home with him. But--” Jongin quickly says, pointing a finger at Taemin who starts to look entirely too gleeful, “it’s not how you think.” He keeps it brief, but he explains what happened, leaving out anything too invasive though he admits they might’ve kissed once or twice. And as he goes back through the night, the following morning, Jongin realizes more and more how much he enjoyed it and how much he liked Chanyeol.

“Seriously? That’s it?” Taemin, as expected, looks disbelieving. “He took you home and you fell asleep?!”

“I was tired! He was really nice and it was comforting and we talked about...things and I don’t know, I just passed out,” Jongin mumbles. He didn’t tell Taemin much about his terrible week at work or how Chanyeol was able to make him forget, reassure him that things will be okay. “Besides, that was the first time in ages I’ve been drunk, it’s not my fault I fell asleep.”

Taemin purses his lips in thought as if he’s deciding whether or not this is a valid reason. In the end, all he says is, “Well, did you have a good time?”

Jongin doesn’t meet Taemin’s eyes as he nods, scratching at the side of his face. “He was really...I don’t know. Comfortable. I liked that he didn’t expect anything from me, even though we went back to his place.”

“Are you gonna see him again?”

“I-uh, don’t know.” Chanyeol hasn’t contacted him since they parted ways yesterday but Jongin has taken out his phone and stared at Chanyeol’s number, wondering whether he should say something but not knowing where to begin.

“What do you know, Jongin?” Taemin asks exasperatedly. “You’ve been so focused on work lately that I’m glad you might’ve met someone. It’s been what? Over a year since your last date?”

Jongin slumps back against the couch, nudges Taemin’s knee sullenly with his foot. “You don’t need to bring that up.”

“I’m just saying,” Taemin replies, holding his hands up in defense even if his smile is wicked. “You had a good time with him, so you should try to do it again. That’s all.”

Jongin rubs at the fabric of his sweats between his fingers, considering. He knows Taemin’s not wrong and he hasn’t forgotten how Chanyeol invited him out again before they’d parted, how disappointed he looked when Jongin had declined. It’s clear that Chanyeol wants to see him again too, but Jongin is a little nervous. He’s never been good at this.

“I’ll think about it,” is all he says.

Monday morning Jongin wakes with a sense of dread in his veins, weighing him down and making him wish he could just burrow under the covers and stay there. All of his worries from the previous week come rushing back, everything that he’d managed to repress, that a night out had helped him forget, it’s all there again, whirling around in his mind relentlessly. He knows he should be braver than this, that he can’t be sure anything bad will even happen, but he can’t ebb the worry, lets it hang over him like a dark cloud as he finally drags himself out of bed to get ready.

He feels somewhat better after a shower, quickly toweling his hair dry and pulling on clothes to look the most presentable he can. If he is going to get fired or demoted or something, he’d like to at least not look like he totally deserves it. Jongin usually tries to get up early enough to shovel some cereal down before leaving but he doesn’t think he can stomach it today, instead putting his laptop into his work bag and the notes he’d brought home last week for his project, willing his fingers to stop trembling anxiously.

When he grabs his phone off the nightstand, he notices a missed message, and his stomach swoops in surprise at Chanyeol’s name flashing on the screen.

Good luck with work, Jongin, the message reads, Don’t fret, okay? You’ll be fine, you’ll see!

Jongin stands there by his bed, reading the message again, and again, disbelieving and yet wholeheartedly pleased. He sinks down onto the edge of his bed, smiling, and mentally berating himself for getting so suddenly choked up, but Chanyeol’s simple message, his kind words, they’ve changed his mood entirely. He feels safe. He feels like he can handle it, whatever happens.

He gnaws on his lower lip as he types up a Thank you in response. It doesn’t feel like enough, but Jongin isn’t sure what else to say, how else to explain how easily Chanyeol’s message has made him happier, braver.

Maybe he’ll figure out a way later. For now, Jongin should head to work while this newfound strength in his veins sticks around.

“Junmyeon, I’m so sorry,” Jongin blurts out when he meets him that morning, hovering awkwardly by the door to Junmyeon’s office. “Last week was really awful, I know it’s no excuse, but that meeting and everything I’m so--”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Junmyeon says, hastily setting his mug of coffee onto his table and waving Jongin into the room. He gestures to a chair for him to sit and Junmyeon rounds his table to perch against the edge of his desk so he can look at Jongin closely instead of peering at him from over his piles of work. “Is this about Friday? You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I...don’t?” Jongin stares at him, unmoving and Junmyeon smiles.

“You don’t,” he confirms, but even then Jongin doesn’t let himself completely relax. “It was a tough meeting, the clients were very particular. And despite you coming in late,” Jongin winces in remembrance, looking away, “you were prepared and you did what you were meant to do. It’s okay, Jongin, that it didn’t end up as planned.”

“Really?” Jongin asks. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

“Have you been worrying about this all weekend?” Junmyeon asks instead, raising a brow, and Jongin flushes a little as he nods. “Look, we all have bad days. It happens. And you were just moved into this position, don’t think I’ve forgotten that. I know it’s not easy. But sometimes things fall through and clients walk out of a meeting unhappy, and we just have to smoothe things over until they’re willing to try again. And the next time is when you have to be ready to take them on, better than before.”

“Of course,” Jongin says quickly, straightening up in his seat as if Junmyeon’s already assigned him to the task should it arise.

Junmyeon laughs softly, holding a hand up to calm Jongin and says, “The thing is, if you feel overwhelmed or out of your element, you have to tell me, Jongin, or else I can’t back you up.” His eyes turn a little serious as he meets Jongin’s gaze. “Do you understand?”

Jongin nods, a little chastised but now, finally, also relieved. He really didn’t screw it up. He’s okay. “I understand,” he tells Junmyeon. “Thank you.”

Junmyeon grins at him, claps him on the shoulder as he stands. “Keep up the good work, Jongin,” he says and Jongin beams at him gratefully before taking his leave.

He feels like he’s floating, he’s so pleased, and he settles down at his cubicle still sporting a wide, wide grin. Sehun, beside him, rolls over on his squeaky desk chair and says, “What’s up with you?”

Jongin shrugs a little nonchalantly and says vaguely, “Just happy.”

Sehun narrows his eyes, gives Jongin a once-over as if his attire will tell him the truth instead, but then rests his gaze back up on Jongin’s face and his expression turns wicked. “If you’re so happy, then you won’t mind buying me lunch today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jongin lifts a leg and pushes his foot against Sehun’s chair, sending him reeling back and laughs to himself as he turns away, even as he makes the mental note to treat Sehun anyway. He is in a good mood, since not losing his job would do that to a person, and he pulls out his phone from the pocket of his bag.

Crisis averted, Jongin sends to Chanyeol, Guess you really were right.

By the time Jongin’s set up his laptop and pulled open the project he needs to work on today, his phone vibrates with a flurry of messages.

I told you so ;)

I am really glad for you, Jongin.

Hope this week is 18237493 times better than the last!!

When can I see you again?

The last one catches Jongin by surprise. After his talk with Taemin yesterday, it’s really all he’s been able to think about, whether or not he wants to see Chanyeol again, wants to see where this...whatever it is will go. Yesterday, he might’ve been more hesitant to reply, but today, he feels good. He feels excited, and he feels like he needs to see Chanyeol again in person, to tell him how happy he is that everything did turn out okay, and to thank him properly for everything he did.

He stares at his phone for a moment, considering, and then types up a response, smiling in anticipation as he sends it off.

When are you free?

Chanyeol’s shop isn’t too hard to find, tucked between a pizza place and a bookstore a couple of blocks from Jongin’s apartment. He stops by on his way home after work on Wednesday, laptop case over his shoulder and the shirt he borrowed from Chanyeol, washed and dried and folded into a plastic bag in his hand.

Justin Bieber’s Sorry is playing in the studio when Jongin walks in, looking around at all the items curiously. It’s a small shop, with just enough space to move between the two aisles, but he finds Chanyeol towards the back by the register, hunched over what looks like a set of coasters that he’s carving. “Hey,” Jongin says softly, and Chanyeol jumps a little in his seat, but his shock at being disturbed melts away instantly when his eyes land on Jongin.

“You’re here,” he says, awed. A second later he seems to catch himself, shaking his head even as his ears turn a little pink, adds, “I mean, I just--wasn’t sure if you would really come. I was hoping you really would and, well, you--you did.”

“I wanted to see you again,” Jongin says, surprising himself with how easily it comes out. The stunned look on Chanyeol’s face makes it even more worth it. “And, besides, I had to return this. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Chanyeol takes the bag when Jongin holds it out for him. “What happened to mailing it back to me?” he teases, though he clearly looks much more pleased that Jongin brought it back in person.

Jongin shrugs. “Too much effort,” he says. “This was on my way home.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says, looking down a little disappointed. “Do you need to head home right away? Have you eaten? The place next door has great chicken pizza.”

“Are you trying to use my weakness for chicken against me?” Jongin laughs and Chanyeol blinks at him mock-innocently.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says loftily. “I’m just hungry.”

Jongin, who was planning to go home and probably eat some instant ramen, thinks pizza sounds really good. He pulls his work bag off, setting it onto the floor against the counter carefully and says, “Well, I guess I could keep you company.”

The responding smile on Chanyeol’s face is bright and beautiful and Jongin laughs as he hastily grabs his phone off the tabletop to place an order for their pizza. Once done, he waves Jongin around the counter. “C’mon,” he says, “let me give you a tour.”

It’s not so much a tour as it is Chanyeol showing Jongin the workshop in the back, where all the equipment is set up. There’s a large whiteboard on one wall, pictures taped up of an older building with lots of notes written down beside it and Chanyeol explains it’s where they keep track of their bigger restoration projects. He shows Jongin some of the equipment, too, tells him what each does, and he’s so enthusiastic about everything that Jongin is intrigued even though he’s never thought about this line of work much before.

“You must spend a lot of time here,” Jongin comments, taking in some of the personal knick-knacks throughout the space, making the room look a little less utilitarian and more homey. There are a few small movie posters on the walls and Jongin laughs when he spots a pad of Rilakkuma post-its on a shelf. “You really like this, don’t you?”

“He’s cute, okay?” Chanyeol huffs, snatching the post-its out of Jongin’s hands. “I like cute things.” He looks right at Jongin when he says it, intense, and Jongin has to look away quickly so Chanyeol can’t see him blush. “You’re right, though, I probably spend way more time here than my apartment most days. If I could set up a place for my music equipment, I’d probably never leave.”

“I’m guessing your meals would then include pizza from next door everyday, huh?” Jongin says as they venture back up to the front of the store, Chanyeol locking the door to the back with a key from his pocket.

“That would be the one thing to get me back home,” Chanyeol concedes. “I was really bad about that in the beginning. It’s just so much easier to order a pie than to go home and make something, you know?” Jongin nods because he definitely does; Jongin’s skills in the kitchen are sub-par at best and all the employees at the KFC near his work probably know his name by now. “Kyungsoo, my friend who works next door, said he’d stop giving me discounts if I kept ordering takeout everyday and he can be really scary so I made myself stop,” Chanyeol says with a sigh. “It wasn’t easy.”

“I’m not undoing all your hard work with what we ordered tonight, am I?” Jongin teases, but Chanyeol shakes his head.

“One cheat is okay,” he says, grinning a little conspiratorially. “And besides, you’re here to eat with me, so I don’t feel nearly as bad.”

That’s a good thing because the pizza they ordered arrives within the next few minutes, brought in by a short man with thick brows and a deep green apron wrapped around his waist. “I thought you were supposed to be cutting back,” he says, walking up to the front and stopping short when he catches sight of Jongin. One of his eyebrows rises curiously and he shifts his gaze over to Chanyeol as he holds the box out, thick lips curving. “You didn’t mention you had company.”

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says, “this is Jongin.”

There’s definite recognition in Kyungsoo’s eyes at that, telling Jongin that Chanyeol’s told him about him in some capacity. He wills back the heat in his cheeks and holds out a hand to shake, says, “It’s, uh, nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Kyungsoo says with a warm smile. “Nice to put a face to the name Chanyeol hasn’t stopped whining about since the weekend.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Chanyeol says, loudly, and Jongin hides his laughter behind a hand, sharing an amused look with Kyungsoo. “Pizza shops don’t close early, you’re always busy. Go make some dough or something.” He waves Kyungsoo toward the door.

“I want to talk to your friend,” Kyungsoo says, not even looking at Chanyeol.

“You could join us for a slice?” Jongin offers only a little hesitantly. He wants to spend time with Chanyeol, but he’s also intrigued by Chanyeol’s flustered reaction, the way a faint blush has settled on his cheeks at Kyungsoo’s comment that he’s talked about Jongin nonstop since they parted on Saturday. He wants to know more about Chanyeol, wants to know what sorts of things he might’ve said, wants to see him blush more like this and Kyungsoo would help with that.

Kyungsoo looks tempted by Jongin’s invitation, but he takes one look at Chanyeol and then shakes his head. “Maybe another time,” he says. “That is, if Chanyeol doesn’t do anything to scare you off before we have the chance.” He eyes Chanyeol critically and stage-whispers, “He doesn’t know about your weird Rilakkuma obsession, does he?”

Chanyeol groans, hiding his face in his hands as Jongin snickers and says, “I found his plushie in his bed over the weekend.”

“And you’re still here?” Kyungsoo says, clearly surprised. “You’ve got a better shot than I thought, Chanyeol.” He reaches over to pat his friend on the shoulder and Chanyeol makes a sound like he’s trying to scare Kyungsoo away but comes across like a wounded animal, and Kyungsoo laughs. “It really was nice to meet you, Jongin. Don’t let him eat the whole pizza.”

“Got it,” Jongin says, grinning. He waves after him as Kyungsoo leaves and only when they hear the door shut after him does Chanyeol let out a long, aggravated sigh.

“I’m going to kill him,” he whines, face red as he lowers his hands and looks at Jongin helplessly.

“He seems nice,” Jongin says brightly, pulling open the pizza box and nearly salivating at the delicious aroma.

“That’s only because he wasn’t trying to ruin your life,” Chanyeol grumbles even as he picks up a slice of pizza for himself.

Jongin, sitting on an extra chair Chanyeol pulled up for him earlier, chews thoughtfully around a mouthful and eyes him as he settles down in his own seat. “So, you’ve been whining about me since the weekend, huh?” he asks, and when Chanyeol almost drops his pizza in his lap at the unexpected question, turning red all over again, Jongin, delighted, laughs and laughs.

“Why do you look so nervous?” Sehun questions, dragging Jongin into the club, their arms looped together. “It’s not a date, is it?”

“No,” Jongin says quickly, shaking his head. “He just--He mentioned he was deejaying tonight and I said I’d come see him the next time he was working so…”

“So what’s the big deal?” Taemin asks as he catches up to them, slinging an arm over Jongin’s shoulders. Cuddled close like this, the three of them make their way toward the bar, Jongin stuck in the middle but finding he doesn’t mind. Somehow the combined hold of his friends is comforting.

“I don’t know,” Jongin admits, pouting only a little.

“Relax, Jongin,” Taemin says, clapping him on the back as they stop at the bar. “This guy, he’s clearly into you already, so you don’t have to overthink it. Just do what you usually do.”

“Yeah, for some reason he thinks you’re cute in all your awkwardness,” Sehun says once he’s ordered drinks for the three of them. “Go with it.”

“I know,” Jongin says and he takes the beer that’s offered for him. He thinks he’ll probably just stick to one drink tonight, doesn’t particularly want to deal with the same hangover he had last weekend again. He takes a slow sip from his drink, turning to gaze out over the rest of the club. In the deejay booth there’s Chanyeol, his height making him even harder to miss. He’s wearing a simple tee with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, showing off his arms and Jongin remembers with a start, touching those arms, the heat of his skin under his fingertips. A spark of want settles low in his stomach as he stares and he grips his drink in his hand a little tighter.

“Is that him?” Sehun asks, nudging Jongin even as his eyes are looking over at Chanyeol, too.

“You weren’t lying,” Taemin says, standing up on his toes a little to get a better look. “He is hot.”

“Stop,” Jongin says quickly, yanking him back down. “You guys have got to keep your distance.”

“We will only if you go over there and talk to him instead of trying to disappear into the bar,” Sehun says, rolling his eyes. Taemin, in clear agreement, gives Jongin a little push. “Don’t make us drag you over there.”

“Okay, okay,” Jongin laughs, holding a hand up in defense. “I’m going.”

“Good luck,” Taemin sings while Sehun raises his glass up at him in some sort of encouragement. Jongin, gripping his beer bottle, takes a deep breath and slips into the crowd, muttering apologies as he squeezes his way through to the deejay booth.

He nearly spills his drink all over himself when someone bumps into him and if he wasn’t so determined to get to Chanyeol he might’ve been pulled into dance with the one or two people who try to catch his attention or his arm. Thankfully by the time Jongin makes it over, Chanyeol is staring over the crowd and he catches Jongin’s gaze almost instantly, a bright smile stretching over his face that rivals the strobe lights in the club. He pulls his large headphones off over his head and sets them to the side, stepping out around the booth to meet Jongin on the floor.

“You’re here,” he says and Jongin laughs.

“Are you always going to be surprised to see me?” he asks, quirking a brow at him, and Chanyeol shrugs a little, even if he does look slightly embarrassed.

“Maybe,” he says, but then reaches out to gently take Jongin’s free hand in his. “C’mon, let me show you.”

Jongin follows him up, and from here he can see the whole club almost perfectly. The dance floor looks even more crowded, like a giant mass of bodies moving at once, and by the bar he can see Taemin and Sehun, chatting with a couple of girls. He’s thankful that they didn’t follow him out here to keep an eye on him or ask Chanyeol upsetting questions. He drags his gaze away from them with a smile and takes in the deejay booth in front of him, the small Mac laptop that Chanyeol has opened up, the pieces of equipment on either side that are lit up brightly.

When he looks at Chanyeol, he’s surprised to find him watching him intently, and lets out a soft gasp. He’s suddenly aware that Chanyeol is still holding his hand but finds he doesn’t mind it. Rather, that he quite likes it, the rough sensation of fingers that spend a lot of time building things or playing guitar, the warmth in the intimate way he squeezes Jongin’s hand, smiles down at him.

Jongin leans in a little closer so he can be heard over the music and says, “So, Mr. DJ, what song are you gonna play for me?”

Chanyeol’s shift lasts until two in the morning but time seems to go by surprisingly fast that night. Jongin spends part of it on the floor, dancing with Taemin and Sehun in turns, and up in the deejay booth with Chanyeol who shows him how to use his equipment in whispered tones in Jongin’s ear to ensure he can be heard over the music. Each time it stirs more of that want in Jongin’s stomach, and he wishes Chanyeol wasn’t working so he could drag him down onto the floor to dance, run his hands up his arms again and feel Chanyeol’s heated touch on his hips.

“You know he keeps watching you,” Sehun says with a smug look on his face, leaning in close to tell him as they dance to a Skrillex song that Sehun had told Jongin to request. “Whenever he’s not staring at his equipment, he’s looking at you.”

Jongin feels himself blush and he glances to the left, just catching Chanyeol’s eyes over the din of people on the floor. He expects Chanyeol to look away but he doesn’t, and so Jongin doesn’t either. If he felt heated before from the crowded club, the adrenaline in his veins from dancing, now it’s even worse, the intensity of Chanyeol’s eyes on him almost too much. He finds he can’t tear his gaze away though and his lips quirk up into a little smirk that has Chanyeol visibly swallowing.

“Are you really gonna eyefuck him from here?” Sehun laughs, shaking his head in amusement. Jongin grins, even though he doesn’t look away from Chanyeol. “Do you wanna give him a show?”

Jongin shoves him, finally looking away to laugh at him. “I’ll be back,” he says instead, and Sehun smirks, gives Jongin a pat on the ass as he heads back up to the booth. He slips up beside Chanyeol, sliding an arm around Chanyeol’s waist. “Hey,” he says, “how’s it going?”

“Good,” Chanyeol says, his voice low and settling warm in Jongin’s chest. “Just a couple songs more to go.”

“Come home with me tonight,” Jongin says and Chanyeol turns to him quickly, surprised. When he seems to notice that Jongin’s serious, his expression shifts, and his eyes drop to Jongin’s mouth. He looks back up a moment later and nods and Jongin licks his lips, says, “Okay. I’ll meet you by the bar.”

Chanyeol smiles at him and his eyes are full of promise and as Jongin leaves him to work, he thinks suddenly that time hasn’t gone by fast enough. Thankfully Taemin is there to keep him company as Jongin calms himself down with some water at the bar while Sehun lets a cute guy with glasses buy him a drink a few stools away. Jongin lets him have his fun even though he knows it won’t go anywhere, since Sehun is hopelessly in love with his boyfriend, Yixing. He glances over at Chanyeol, thinking how he and Yixing would probably get along well, but that train of thought comes to an abrupt stop when he realizes that means Chanyeol would have to meet Sehun and, subsequently, Taemin. He shudders, deciding then and there that he will do his best to not let that happen anytime soon.

So when Chanyeol does show up a few minutes later, weaving his way through the crowd, Jongin jumps up to meet him, calling out goodbyes to his friends before they have the chance to pull Chanyeol in. “Be safe!” shouts Taemin after him and Jongin groans, grabbing Chanyeol’s elbow as he laughs and dragging him out into the winter chill.

“Trust me,” Jongin says when Chanyeol eyes him in amusement, “it’s safer not to meet them right now.”

“But I can meet them eventually?”

“If you want.”

“I do,” Chanyeol says earnestly. “I want to know more about you.”

Jongin is a little stunned by his honesty and he buries his face into the collar of his coat, unsure what to say. At least Chanyeol doesn’t seem interested in a reply, instead focusing on pulling his arm from Jongin’s grasp only to take his hand in his again. Jongin is getting far too used to how nice holding hands with Chanyeol is and he’d probably consider it a problem if he didn’t like it so much.

It’s not a long ride back to Jongin’s place, and even though he invited him, Jongin’s suddenly aware that Chanyeol’s never been here and that Jongin isn’t even sure of the last time he cleaned. He just hopes he didn’t leave any dirty laundry lying around as he unlocks the door and steps in, holding it open for Chanyeol, and Jongin’s barely closed the door behind them before Chanyeol is pressing him up against it and leaning in impossibly close.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a rush and Jongin feels like all the air in his lungs has been knocked out. “Because I’ve only been thinking about it all night and--”

“Yes,” Jongin says quickly, heart pounding, and doesn’t even wait for Chanyeol to follow through, just closes the distance between them eagerly. Chanyeol responds just as enthusiastically, hands coming up to hold Jongin’s face on either side and he presses in even closer until they’re chest to chest, and the doorknob is digging into the side of Jongin’s back. This time feels better than the last because Jongin’s mind isn’t clouded by alcohol but by the slick heat of Chanyeol’s mouth, the solid weight of his body against his as Jongin wraps his arms around his back, pulls him even closer. His head falls back against the door and he moans against Chanyeol’s lips, feels his soft chuckle before he’s drawing Jongin into another kiss, less intense but just as enticing.

He sighs into Chanyeol’s mouth as Chanyeol’s hands gently slide away from his face to instead help push his coat down over his shoulders but Jongin barely has the chance to reciprocate when the familiar sound of Monggu barking cuts through the thick air. Not even a minute later is Monggu running into Jongin’s legs, jumping up and down for attention, and Jongin laughs, slumping against the door and meeting Chanyeol’s eyes in exasperated defeat.

“Hey Chanyeol, meet Monggu,” he says as Chanyeol steps back, hands falling away from Jongin’s body which only makes Jongin want to pull him right back. “Monggu, sit,” he tells his puppy, and Monggu quickly stops scuttering around at his feet to sit still. “Good boy.” He reaches out to pet him and eyes Chanyeol who is looking at Monggu carefully. “You can pet him, too, it’s okay. He’s a really good dog.”

“Oh, I know,” Chanyeol says, waving his hands. “I’m just not sure I should touch him.”

“Are you allergic?” Jongin asks and feels a spark of disappointment, even though he knew Chanyeol had to have a flaw somewhere. “Will you be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Chanyeol says with a nod. “My allergies aren’t too bad, but I’d rather be safe.”

Jongin glances at Monggu and then at Chanyeol, takes in the red of his mouth and makes a decision. “C’mon,” Jongin says, taking Chanyeol’s hand and finally leading him out of the doorway once they’ve both slipped out of their shoes. Chanyeol almost trips over his own feet in his haste to follow and Jongin feels a little bad for having to shut the bedroom door on Monggu who whines from the other side when Jongin tells him to stay.

“You didn’t have to shut him out like that, I’ll be fine, really,” Chanyeol says, but Jongin shakes his head, pulling him toward the bed to push him down onto the mattress.

“That isn’t why,” he says, and Chanyeol gasps, hands flying to Jongin’s hips as Jongin climbs atop of him, settling himself in his lap. “I really want to kiss you again and I’d rather not have an audience.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says and Jongin doesn’t let him say anything more before he presses their lips together again. They both make a low, pleased sound as they pick up right where they left off and Chanyeol wraps his arms around Jongin’s waist to hold him steady when he sits up, giving Jongin the chance to pull his coat off finally. It lands on the floor somewhere behind them as Chanyeol lies back down again, Jongin straddling him comfortably, knees pressed into the sheets as he slides his hands into Chanyeol’s hair and sucks lightly on his bottom lip.

“Do you know how infuriating it was seeing you in this tank top?” Jongin says when they finally part for air. Now that Chanyeol is lying there, free from his coat, Jongin can let his hands wander down from his hair and along the smooth muscles of his arms like he’d thought of doing all night.

There’s a little smirk on Chanyeol’s lips even as he looks at Jongin in wonder, like he didn’t expect him to actually say such a thing. “And do you know how frustrating it was watching you dance with other people and not me?” he says, his own hands making their way under the front of Jongin’s shirt, making Jongin shiver.

“You don’t have to worry about Sehun,” Jongin says, remembering with a start how they’d danced while Chanyeol was blatantly looking. “He has a boyfriend.”

“Good,” Chanyeol says, catching Jongin’s mouth with his again. “Sehun’s the blond one, right? Who asked to play Bangarang.”

Jongin laughs against Chanyeol’s skin, lips moving down from his lips along the curve of his jaw, the slope of his neck. “That’s him,” he says as he softly sucks over Chanyeol’s adam’s apple. “Taemin was the other one.”

Chanyeol makes a low noise of understanding. “You should tell me more about them,” he says quietly, as one of his hands slips free from under Jongin’s shirt to instead weave his fingers through Jongin’s hair, smoothing back his bangs and cupping his nape.

His palm feels warm there, affectionate, and Jongin sighs contently, enjoying this unhurried, gentle exchange of touches. “You want to know?” he asks, making his way back up to Chanyeol’s mouth. This isn’t much different than the last time, really, lying in bed together, talking and trading kisses, but something about it feels better. Maybe it’s how Jongin is even more aware of each lingering touch, or maybe it’s because of a week’s worth of feelings, finally let loose in every deep kiss, every heated glance they share, every breathless laugh.

Maybe it’s how there really is no rush tonight, that there doesn’t seem to be a predetermined goal they’re trying to reach. Clothes still on and hands resting above the belt, Jongin doesn’t feel like he needs to go any further and Chanyeol seems perfectly pleased as well and that, that really might be the best of all.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Chanyeol says, coaxing Jongin with his hand at his neck to pull back enough to meet his eyes. “I want to know more about you.”

Jongin searches his face slowly, the way his dark hair falls across his forehead, the slight dimple in his cheek as his smile grows, the pretty shape of his eyes, and licks his lips before leaning in for another kiss, and another after that. Only when they’re both left breathless does Jongin pull back and slump over onto the side of the bed, lets his fingers dance across Chanyeol’s chest. “Okay,” he says, resting his head against Chanyeol’s shoulder. “What would you like to know?”

Warmth is what wakes Jongin the next morning, an overwhelming sort of heat that has him groaning and blearily opening his eyes. He squints against the sunlight hot on his face and it takes a moment for the lingering dredges of slumber to fade before everything comes back. He turns to the right and there, still sleeping, is Chanyeol, proving that it wasn't all just some dream.

Chanyeol looks a little ridiculous in sleep, his mouth slightly parted and hair a mess, but Jongin finds he's still just as endeared. Just as attracted.

They stayed up longer than Jongin expected, mostly talking, occasionally making out, and it was nice. Really nice. It was almost like a game of twenty questions, except they asked each other about everything and anything from how long they've lived in the city (Jongin, eight years; Chanyeol nearly his entire life) to where they went to school (NYU for Jongin, Penn State for Chanyeol) to whether or not they have any siblings (they both have older sisters, but Jongin has two while Chanyeol has the one). "She lives in LA though so I don’t see her much these days,” Chanyeol had lamented. “Though she mentioned something about possibly getting engaged soon so I’m gonna have to fly over there and see if this guy is good enough, you know?”

Jongin had laughed and told him all about how he’d been the same when his eldest sister got married, but now every time he’s over he’s basically his niece’s servant, doing everything and anything she wants. “She’s gonna rule the world someday,” he’d said proudly and Chanyeol had kissed him, grinning.

Remembering it all now has Jongin smiling widely, too, lying back in bed and quietly stretching his arms over his head. He vaguely remembers letting Chanyeol borrow sleep clothes but isn’t sure anymore which one of them fell asleep first but that now, in the morning sun, he feels well-rested, rejuvenated.

He forces himself out of bed after a couple of minutes, gently moving Chanyeol’s arm from where it’s wrapped around his waist, and leaves Chanyeol to sleep as he quietly washes up. He closes the bedroom door behind him after and Monggu is practically right at his feet the moment Jongin appears in the small living area.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, crouching down to shower his puppy with some much needed love. “Sorry for kicking you out last night. You understand, right?” Monggu yips at him a few times and Jongin smiles, ruffling up his soft fur. “Yeah, I like him a lot,” he says, and he thought admitting that out loud would be embarrassing but instead it just feels right. He smiles even wider as he stands again and adds, “Come on, let’s get you some food.”

Jongin pours out some food and water for Monggu and leaves him at it while he opens the fridge and stares at its contents for five minutes, wondering what he could make. It’s just about lunch time and he could probably just order something for the two of them, but he feels like cooking, even if his skills are nothing special. He pokes around for awhile and figures he can make his spicy tuna dish since it’s one of the few things he’s relatively confident in.

He puts rice in the cooker and pulls out the rest of the ingredients, setting them out on the counter. He has some time until the rice is done before he should really start on the rest, so instead he focuses on quickly cleaning around the apartment, throwing out trash from the coffee table by the couch and picking up all of Monggu’s toys lying around the floor. He puts away a few DVDs resting by the television back on the shelf and suddenly remembers talking to Chanyeol the previous weekend about Les Thanatonautes, scans his collection of novels until he finds the first one and plucks it out. He sets it on the coffee table so he remembers to give it Chanyeol and returns to the kitchen to cook.

Jongin’s finished making the eggs and is cooking kimchi on the stove when Chanyeol finally wanders in, greeting him, “Good morning,” in a deep, rumbling voice.

“I think you mean afternoon,” Jongin laughs, and it’s amusing to Jongin that he’s the one up before Chanyeol when most weekends Jongin barely gets out of bed before two in the afternoon. “I’m making lunch if you want some.”

“That’d be great,” Chanyeol says, coming over to peer down at the pan from over Jongin’s shoulder.

“Be warned though, I’m not very good at this,” Jongin admits but Chanyeol shakes his head, leans in to press a soft kiss to Jongin’s forehead.

“It’s the thought that counts,” he says and when Jongin rolls his eyes, he grins and amends, “And we can always order something if it really is that bad.”

“I’m glad you have faith in me,” Jongin pouts, but Chanyeol has him laughing all over again as his fingers find Jongin’s sides in a little tickle attack. His laughter gets the attention of Monggu, who comes rushing over to see what’s so interesting and paws right at Chanyeol’s legs. “Ah,” Jongin says, remembering, “I’m sure I have allergy meds if you need them.”

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says, smiling at him. “I’ll let you know.” And to Jongin’s surprise, he drops to his knees next to Monggu and pets him gently. “He’s a beautiful puppy,” he says and Monggu seems infatuated with Chanyeol already, eagerly licking at his fingertips. “I’d have like six dogs if I could.”

Jongin nods sympathetically. “My parents have two more poodles, but I don’t have much space for another one,” he says. “They’re hard work.”

“Yes, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Chanyeol says and it takes Jongin a minute to realize he’s talking to Monggu and not him, flushing hotly as he quickly looks away when Chanyeol catches his eye knowingly. Monggu answers him with a delighted bark and Chanyeol grins, giving him one last pet before standing again. He glances at the stove, then at Jongin, and says, “Can I help?”

Jongin directs him to pull out bowls and utensils from the cupboards and drawers as he finishes up the tuna, and together they scoop out rice from the cooker and put together the rest of the meal. Chanyeol keeps telling him it looks great and Jongin is growing nervous about whether the taste will live up to the presentation. They end up in the living room, sitting on the floor on either side of the coffee table and Jongin easily digs into his own bowl, knowing just what to expect but watches Chanyeol closely as he takes a spoonful of his.

Chanyeol chews deliberately slowly, laughing when Jongin lightly shoves him with his foot under the table. “It’s good,” he says with a smile that seems entirely genuine, but Jongin can’t be sure. Clearly his disbelief is on his face because Chanyeol adds, much more seriously, “Really. it’s good. You can stop worrying.” He pats Jongin’s calf with his free hand where it’s stretched out next to him. “I’m not about to stop liking you just because you can’t cook well.”

“That’s good to know,” Jongin mumbles, but he’s pleased, and Chanyeol really does seem like he enjoys Jongin’s dish, asking him exactly what he put in it so he can recreate it himself at home. “Oh, by the way,” Jongin says, pushing the Werber book over to Chanyeol. “It’s the first book in the series I told you about. You can borrow it if you like.”

“Wow, you’re really lending it to me?” Chanyeol teases as he picks up the book and flips through it. “I’m honored. I’ll take very good care of it.”

“You’d better,” Jongin says, “or you won’t get the next one.”

“Now, we can’t have that,” he says, smirking as he closes the book and sets it aside. “Thanks, Jongin.” He looks right at Jongin as he says it, his gaze unwavering, the way it’d been last night at the club, but now it’s also affectionate. Jongin isn’t sure what to say, just grips his spoon in his hand and stares back and watches how Chanyeol’s expression shifts into something more searching, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he seems to consider something.

Before Jongin can break the spell to ask what’s wrong, Chanyeol says, “Can I take you out on a date?”

Jongin, not expecting that at all, gapes at him in surprise, and the only thing his short-circuited mind is able to say is, “What?”

“Fuck, sorry, that’s not how I--” Chanyeol says, setting his spoon in his bowl and scrubbing at his face. He’s turning a little pink in embarrassment when his hands move away, but he looks just as serious when he says, “I really like you, Jongin, and I want to take you on a date. A real date.”

Excitement, happiness, it’s bursting inside of Jongin right now as he takes in Chanyeol’s words, what this means. He hadn’t let himself think too much about it, didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the fact of the matter is that he does like Chanyeol and he does like spending time with him, and he wants to see him again and again and--

“Yes,” he blurts out quickly. “Yes, that sounds great, I mean, I’d really like that. A lot.”

Chanyeol is beaming at him now and Jongin can really only laugh, hiding behind a hand as he feels light and eager, eager for this thing they’re starting. Just a week ago Jongin felt as though everything was going wrong and it was such a low point, but now he thinks he can handle anything that comes his way because there’s Chanyeol, who has turned it all around and made him feel better than he has in a long time.

“Good,” Chanyeol says then, decisively, as he nods. “That’s good.” His face looks a little like it might break, with how hard he’s grinning, but Jongin is the same, can’t get his lips to do anything but smile right back.

He just watches as Chanyeol picks up his spoon and starts to eat again, and slowly does the same, stretching his legs out under the table, letting them tangle up with Chanyeol’s longer ones, curls away when he attempts to tickle his thigh with his toes.

“So,” Chanyeol says after awhile of comfortable silence, “are you free tonight?”

He looks hopefully up at Jongin from across the table, spoon poised midair, and Jongin drops his own to lean over, grab his face in his hands and kiss Chanyeol soundly on the mouth. Chanyeol makes a surprised noise, hastily makes to set his own spoon down without dropping food all over the floor, and then sinks his hands into Jongin’s hair as he kisses back.

“As a matter of fact,” Jongin says brightly, resting his forehead against Chanyeol’s and burning with pleasure, “I am.”