Kyungsoo knows something is amiss the night after his first full read-through of the final episode of the 100 Days script. But it’s not until he comes back to the old dorm where they’ve all started to gather again that it begins.
Preparations have begun extra early for this album comeback and the very first stirrings of it -meetings, pre-production run-throughs, talks with SM in conjunction with China to include Yixing as best they can- have already overlapped what will be the last of the filming. So for the final month Kyungsoo is navigating between occasional stays at the dorm (as they all trickle back in and out from the various side projects that have caused the eight of them to spend more time apart in the last year than Kyungsoo can ever remember happening) and the set in Namyangju. And truth be told it’s exhausting. But it’s nice to see everyone in one place again.
It also means Baekhyun is around at dinner time this particular night and is hounding Kyungsoo over the script as he, Kyungsoo, Jongdae and Jongin are all eating.
“So there has to be a kiss, right?” Baekhyun asks around a mouthful of chicken. “All good dramas end with a kiss.”
Kyungsoo glares at Baekhyun’s noisy chew-talking until he swallows and there’s blessed silence. “Yes,” he finally answers stoically. “There’s a kiss.”
In his peripheral Kyungsoo sees Jongin twitch where he’s seated next to him, spoon clanking against his bowl. Kyungsoo glances and then returns to Baekhyun who is now demanding with much wiggling of his eyebrows to know just how much of a kiss it is.
“There’s lots of heartfelt feeling to be conveyed,” Kyungsoo replies eventually, thinking the scene breakdown over and deliberately not giving Baekhyun the lewd details he’s after. “I know the director will want it to be done well.”
Jongdae takes a thoughtful sip of his drink, motioning with it as he talks. “You know it’s a little strange that we are all going to have to watch you do it on screen. I’ve never even seen you kiss anyone,” he adds thoughtfully.
Kyungsoo shrugs. “There will be rehearsals.”
Beside him Jongin’s usual enthusiastic movements over anything to do with chicken have gone still and silent. Kyungsoo looks to him again. He’s staring into his little bowl of chicken soup, shoulders hunched. Kyungsoo automatically reaches out and taps the back of a finger against Jongin’s knee, just as Baekhyun speaks again.
“So does that mean there will be tongue?”
Jongin jerks to his feet, scooping up his bowl. “I’m going to practice,” is all he says before stalking out of the dorm kitchen. Kyungsoo watches him go, confused and concerned as Jongdae leans across the table to pinch Baekhyun’s ear.
“Don’t ask things like that!”
* * *
Kyungsoo paces the familiar bedroom that he’s back to sharing with Jongin, script in hand, mouthing along with his lines when Chanyeol politely knocks and pokes his head in.
Kyungsoo looks up, glasses dropping askew at the movement. He pushes them back into place. “Yes?”
Chanyeol looks nervous. “Ah, have you… spoken to Jongin lately?”
“Not since dinner.” Kyungsoo flips the thick script closed. “He went to practice. Why? Is something wrong?”
Chanyeol pulls a face that closely resembles a wince. “Oh. Okay. It’s just he seems…” he hedges, fidgeting. “I don’t know. Off?”
Kyungsoo frowns. Jongin’s abrupt exit from dinner had been unexpected and strange enough. Now the one person who could read the mood in the dorm better than any of them had noticed and he hadn’t even been there. “Did you see him just now?” If Chanyeol had picked up something, there was definitely a reason to check in. “Where is he?”
Chanyeol’s look shows plainly that he’s just asked a dumb question. So Kyungsoo looks at his watch. It’s nearly 1am. Where else would a moody Jongin still be at this hour.
Kyungsoo heads for the practice rooms. He doesn’t ask Chanyeol why out of the six other options in the household, he didn’t go to anyone else for help.
* * *
Jongin calls out over the music at the sound of the door opening, “I thought you were finished?”
“It’s not Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo replies, closing the door behind himself. “It’s me.”
Jongin looks up, arms out to his sides like a ballet dancer and his eyes meet Kyungsoo’s through the mirror. The track pants and shirt he’s wearing are covered in sweat and Jongin scowls, returning to finishing a perfect spin. Kyungsoo knows immediately now why Chanyeol came to find him. Jongin looks ragged.
Kyungsoo moves to the recessed nook of shelving and electronics on the far wall and cuts the backing track (which is all they have to practice to at the moment) with a push of a button. The silence that fills the open space seems almost shockingly loud. Kyungsoo turns and expects Jongin to have also stopped but he carries on with the dance stubbornly, following through with the next sequence as if he can still hear the beat in his head. Kyungsoo sighs.
“Are you okay?”
Jongin’s moves have short, angry flicks to them. Energy that he doesn’t need to expend to finish them and he’s far too skilled a dancer to waste his reserves so uselessly. That’s when Kyungsoo realizes that Jongin isn’t practicing for the sake of it -he and Sehun have already memorized the limited blocks of choreography they’ve been taught the fastest out of all of them until they’re muscle memory- he’s burning off energy. Agitated energy by the looks of it. Kyungsoo wishes he knew why.
Jongin finishes the set and begins again. “I’m fine.”
“Clearly you’re not.” Kyungsoo crosses his arms, script tucked under one armpit. Jongin’s eyes track the move through the mirror, having not once looked directly at Kyungsoo since he walked in, yet at the same time never having taken his eyes off him. It’s such a Jongin thing to do.
Kyungsoo is used now to his staring, has built up an immunity to the long, lingering looks that used to send a shiver down his spine at the most inappropriate moments. They’ve both matured together and with time comes strength. Kyungsoo knows how to keep this clingy, affectionate boy at a careful distance, keep things proper between them. They have careers, they have responsibilities. And if Kyungsoo listens to Jongin breathe in the bed across from his at night and wonders what could have been in the time that they’ve wasted dancing around each other, then that’s his own weakness. He doesn’t speak of it.
Nor does he speak of the nights when Jongin still climbs into his bed and falls asleep behind him like they did when they were first trainees. Kyungsoo’s animal may be a penguin in the eyes of the world, but he will always be Jongin’s biggest teddy bear.
Perhaps it’s his own fault then, for being weak enough to encourage all this. For not smacking Jongin’s hand away whenever it slips into his jacket pocket, for not shrugging off all the casual, clingy touches, the hugs, the softest side of all that makes Kyungsoo’s heart beat so fast whenever that sexy, sensual dancer finishes his stage performance and chest heaving, hair slicked back, lips bitten for the cameras, will throw Kyungsoo the biggest, eager smile while waiting for his approval. And Kyungsoo will always give it. Because his stupid, traitorous heart gave itself to Jongin so long ago that Kyungsoo doesn’t remember a time when he wasn’t painfully, wistfully in love with his best friend.
Who is now looking at him with angry eyes. No... Kyungsoo knows him too well for that. A truly angry Jongin is a rare thing. He’s not cross, he’s wounded somehow and like a trapped puppy who knows no better, is giving it all he’s got to try and fix what’s hurting. Which for Jongin, is to turn to dancing. It’s his cure-all. His final solution. And if he’s been here since dinner, he’s been trying that solution now for over five hours.
Kyungsoo watches him twirl. “Did you want to talk?”
Jongin body rolls, cupping his hands to make a diamond symbol that he glides down his chest and hips. “No.”
A moody, hurting Jongin is a stubborn one. But Kyungsoo knows how to wait him out. Of all of them except perhaps Chanyeol, Jongin is the least likely to hold onto negative emotions. It’s not who they are. The pair of them are happy magnets and Kyungsoo figures that once Jongin works through whatever is disturbing him, he’ll go to bed calmer. So Kyungsoo simply leans back against the far wall and takes his script out again, returning to the page he was reading. He hopes his presence will help somehow. Jongin has always sought him out before.
But it appears to have the opposite effect. Jongin’s moves get faster, harder, and as Kyungsoo glances up every now and again from his reading Jongin pushes his body even further, sweat spinning off him as he flings himself from move to move. It takes him back and forth across the length and breadth of the room until Kyungsoo is almost dizzy with it and can’t keep watching. Finally though one close curve brings Jongin back around and, still moving to his silent music, he cuts away mid-step and comes to a harsh, direct stop in front of Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo silently looks up at him over the tops of his glasses. Jongin is drenched, red and panting with the exertion, shaking on the spot as his muscles atrophied. He slicks his damp hair back off his forehead with both hands, eyes fierce and once upon a time Kyungsoo would have had goosebumps at such a sight close up. Now he simply waits patiently, face schooled. He’s wearing a long-sleeved sweater anyway; the goosebumps are hidden. He can pretend he hasn’t got them.
Jongin breathes heavily for a long moment, broad shoulders rising and falling, looking for all the world like he wants to say something vastly explosive and important and Kyungsoo is ready for anything. Shouting (rare). Cursing (even rarer). Anything.
Well… almost anything.
Jongin’s shoulders droop. His spine curves faintly and he slumps, abruptly and fascinatingly becoming the Jongin Kyungsoo would protect against this vast, cold world above all else, tall and fit as he is. Even if Kyungsoo had to stand between that whole world and Jongin, placing his smaller self in harm’s way. He would. Because Jongin right now looks like he’s lost every ounce of courage he had worked up into himself.
He looks Kyungsoo in the eye for a beat longer and then lowers his gaze. Head down, Jongin reaches out and taps a fingertip on top of the script Kyungsoo has been trying (failing) to read.
Kyungsoo looks from Jongin’s bent head, down to the pages and then back again. Jongin drags his finger along the edge of the folded pages and then lets it drop away. His voice is small.
“You could, you know. Um... with me.”
Kyungsoo blinks at Jongin, but he’s hiding behind his hair which has flopped back into place over his forehead. “Rehearse?”
Jongin peeks up from behind his bangs and the tentative look in his eyes does something to Kyungsoo’s heart. He can’t swallow around how dry his throat has suddenly become because surely Jongin doesn’t mean what Kyungsoo thinks his wishful mind is implying. There’s only one episode left to act out. One last big scene with something in it that the actors haven’t tried doing yet that would need… practice.
Jongin’s eyes lower again and one shoulder hikes up, bashful. His lips are flushed like the rest of him and he bites down on the bottom one, gnawing. Kyungsoo’s heartbeat has tripled because he has to be mistaking this. He has to. Jongin isn’t offering what Kyungsoo thinks he is. Jongin pushes and pokes and teases and flirts and vies for Kyungsoo’s attention like no one else but he’s always known unspokenly just as Kyungsoo has that… this… should never be.
Only something has sharply, suddenly pushed his hand. Made him offer—Kyungsoo could slap himself as the thought zooms into his brain from where it’s been lodged behind his ability to understand before now. Jongin. Sweet, kind, playful Jongin…
Of Kyungsoo’s upcoming scene in the drama.
He must take a minute too long to figure this all out because Jongin takes his silence as a refusal and hastily steps back, one hand going to his ear which is possibly the single biggest tell he has that he’s nervous. He toys with the lobe, looking anywhere but Kyungsoo.
“Uh, you can forget it. I didn’t mean-”
“No, wait,” Kyungsoo snaps out a hand, aiming for a touch to Jongin’s upraised elbow but he’s dodged.
“I should—I need to take a shower before bed. I stink.”
And Jongin turns away, scooping up his gym towel that’s hooked over a warmup bar not far away as Kyungsoo is too fucking stunned to make his legs work. Or his mouth, apparently. Because Jongin has fled the room before Kyungsoo can react. The slam of the double doors shakes him out of his stupor and Kyungsoo gapes at the space left bereft of the boy it held moments before.
The boy who just offered to kiss him. To let Kyungsoo kiss him. If he wanted.
One saving thought flicks through Kyungsoo’s rebooting, scrambled brain: thank god he can’t go far. The dorm may be big but there’s only one place Jongin will sleep.
Script crumpled in his fist, Kyungsoo heads back to their room.
* * *
Jongin takes possibly the longest shower in history. Kyungsoo settles into bed and reads -obstinately not his script- as he waits. Not that he’s really seeing the words before him because his mind won’t shut down, keeps focusing on one point like water circling a drain.
Jongin wants to kiss him. Jongin wants to kiss hi—
The door creeks open. Kyungsoo sits up a little higher against his pillows but Jongin walks in, dressed in the thin shirt and soft sleeping pants he favors with a towel over his wet head. He doesn’t look at Kyungsoo, just scrubs at the last of the water in his hair and flings the damp material over the back of a chair before sliding under the covers of his own bed and turning away to face the wall.
Kyungsoo’s heart breaks a little.
He places the book he was uselessly trying to concentrate on onto the bedside table that sits between them, flicks off the light and sinks down, pulling his own sheets up to his chin. The darkness is like an extra thick blanket and Kyungsoo stares up through it to the ceiling that he wouldn’t be able to see clearly even in daylight without his glasses. Time ticks past. Nearby Jongin shuffles under his covers, restless.
Jongin is a terrible solo sleeper. He nearly always needs something to cuddle which is why his collection is stuffed animals is so vast, but if given the choice he prefers Kyungsoo’s company on nights when he’s too wound up to drop off. And right about now is when he’d usually get up and slip into Kyungsoo’s bed behind him, seeking the extra warmth and company. This kind of comfort is the only thing they ever allow themselves and back to back in the darkness where no one else can see, Jongin is usually out like a light.
But it seems like even that is lost tonight. Because Jongin fusses and shifts, legs unable to keep still until Kyungsoo can’t stand it. Jongin is all alone and… yeah. Stuff this. Kyungsoo rolls back his covers and pads silently over, barefoot. They’ve never done it his way before. Jongin is always, always the one who slips across the distance and climbs in with Kyungsoo. But Kyungsoo can’t lie there and hear Jongin’s anxious shufflings and not do something.
His eyes have adjusted enough that Kyungsoo can make out the lump that is Jongin, wiggling and tossing with his back still to the room. Reaching out, Kyungsoo gently taps the highest point -Jongin’s shoulder- to let him know he’s there.
Jongin freezes. Kyungsoo tugs the sheets out from where the end has tangled underneath his back and gets in, settling onto the mattress. Jongin is still perfectly still, coiled like a live wire. This is new and backwards and Kyungsoo can almost hear the gears turning in Jongin’s brain as he tries to figure it out.
Kyungsoo carefully keeps his distance. His quiet words seem more intimate in the dark and he speaks them to Jongin’s broad back. “Did you mean it? What you said earlier?”
Jongin’s frozen outline stays immobile for a heartbeat longer and then he begins to breathe again. Shuffling his head on the pillow, Jongin must realize Kyungsoo can’t see the movement because he finally speaks, voice very small.
Kyungsoo takes a long, slow breath. His pulse has started to climb and he can’t fuck this up. He can’t. “Nini,” he starts and hears Jongin shuffle again, feels the mattress shift under his bulk. “Jagiya,” he switches tack, using the one word they truly shouldn’t because it speaks of too much affection than they’re allowed to admit. It’s the one they swallow the most, the one Kyungsoo itches to say out loud more than any other, the one they have silently promised not to use outside of birthdays and Christmas and which Jongin occasionally forgets and let’s slip in his over-exuberance. He uses it now. “Why did you offer?”
Jongin turns, then. In the shadows and the thin moonlight he rolls over and faces Kyungsoo on the pillow. His cheek squishes against the puffy material and it’s unbearably cute. It’s also incredibly, shockingly intimate to be facing each other like this. Like lovers in a bed. They’ve never laid like this before and as Kyungsoo watches the way Jongin’s eyes dip down to his lips and skitter away, he knows why.
Jongin finally meets his gaze and his eyes are pained. “I don’t want your first kiss to be with her,” he admits.
“Who?” Kyungsoo whispers. “Ji-hyun?”
Jongin nods. His squished cheek accentuates the pout he has going. Kyungsoo covers up his nerves as best he can with a sigh. “You know it’s not real.”
“But it is,” Jongin argues. “It’s a real kiss. The camera will show it and everything.”
Kyungsoo shifts an arm out of the covers because he can see Jongin working himself up again and lays a hand gently on his neck. This at least is something they’ve done a million times before. It feels safe. Touching Jongin always is. “I’m not dating her,” Kyungsoo tries to reassure him.
“I know.” Jongin’s pout is ridiculously big now and Kyungsoo smiles at the childish face he’s pulling.
“It will all be over in one take. I know I can do it well.”
Jongin scowls. “By practicing.”
Kyungsoo hesitates because yes, technically they’re going to have to rehearse it for the director to be happy enough with the scene to commit it to film. But Jongin reads Kyungsoo’s pause and places his hand over Kyungsoo’s own on his neck. He speaks low and fast, eyes earnest.
“So practice with me instead.”
Kyungsoo stops breathing mid-inhale. “We shouldn’t…” he squeaks, trying for sensible, trying for reason. But Jongin shuffles closer, still cupping Kyungsoo’s hand against his neck until they’re nose to nose.
“How does the scene go?”
Kyungsoo closes his eyes. “Jongin…”
“Shh,” Jongin’s nose brushes his own. He waits a beat. “Please?”
And Kyungsoo’s resolve breaks because he always knew they’d end up here. Feared and desired it more than anything else. But it’s the ghost hours of the early morning and no one is awake except the two of them and all of Kyungsoo’s carefully-planned excuses fade away. So he shifts his hand until Jongin lets go of it and wiggles his other hand up until he can carefully lift Jongin’s head off the pillow enough to cup both edges of Jongin’s jaw. Kyungsoo opens his eyes.
“Like this,” he says quietly and leans in.
Jongin’s mouth is warm to the touch and he parts his lips almost immediately so Kyungsoo draws back enough to whisper, “Slower,” before trying again.
He closes the distance and kisses like he had planned in his head while reading the script. He brushes the hinges of Jongin’s jaw with his fingers, feeling the faintest scratch of what will be stubble by the morning (Jongin has to shave far more than any of them and Kyungsoo sometimes thinks he would look so handsome if allowed to grow it).
Jongin makes the tiniest of sounds and holds impossibly still as if moving will bring Kyungsoo to his senses and he’ll stop, but as Kyungsoo pushes closer and releases the faint suction he has going on Jongin’s upper lip to start again, Jongin finally places a hand on Kyungsoo’s waist and holds tight.
“Now,” Kyungsoo murmurs, lost in the warmth and sensation of being this close. “Open for me a little this time.”
And Jongin complies, dropping his lower lip to reciprocate and latch onto Kyungsoo in return. Kyungsoo hums, pressing and shifting the kiss into a constant movement of their mouths against each other and Jongin follows every one, his hands beginning to squeeze where they grip Kyungsoo’s waist until finally Kyungsoo slows the cadence and pulls back, their lips separating with a damp sound.
Jongin, eyes closed, licks his lips as if chasing the taste of Kyungsoo for a moment longer. “That is a very long kiss for television,” he finally mutters reproachfully, jealousy in every word and Kyungsoo laughs, rolling onto his back to cover his eyes and snigger because that’s typical Jongin. His Jongin.
His Jongin who follows, bundling a giggling Kyungsoo over into his opposite side so he can curl up behind him and just like that with no more words, he falls asleep; exhausted from practice and content with his bear as always. The only difference is that tonight there’s an arm slung low over Kyungsoo’s hip.
Kyungsoo doesn’t sleep for quite a while.
* * *
“You should practice more,” Jongin says as he bails Kyungsoo up a day later, making him jump. Neither of them have spoken about their kiss since it happened and Kyungsoo has painfully, achingly wondered if he had misread the situation. So this catches him off guard. He’s boiling rice for everyone’s lunch for god sakes.
“What?” he manages, glancing around hurriedly before lowering his voice. “Now?”
There’s a brightness in Jongin’s eyes as he raises his eyebrows and nods eagerly. Kyungsoo flicks the sticky wooden spoon he has into the sink and darts a final look around the empty kitchen because god help him, he’s actually considering this for a hot second. After thinking that Jongin had written off their midnight kiss, the idea of kissing him again is intensely tempting. Too tempting.
But anyone could walk in. Sehun is just in the next room and Junmyeon had been helping Kyungsoo cut vegetables before he’d had to abruptly take a phone call from their manager. He’ll be back any time. Jongin though, has his hands behind his back and he’s leant forward just slightly into Kyungsoo’s space-
“The height is wrong,” Kyungsoo blurts out, wanting to smack himself as Jongin pauses. “I’m—my character is the taller one.”
Jongin pulls a face. “By about an inch,” he shoots back and Kyungsoo would possibly be stung by that retort if Jongin didn’t sling out an arm and scoop Kyungsoo up, tilting him off balance and closer until he’s forced to step onto Jongin’s feet to stay upright.
“There,” Jongin looks pleased, nose to nose now with a breathless Kyungsoo. “Is that better?”
So Kyungsoo kisses him. Recklessly, right there in broad daylight. He pulls Jongin in and works at his mouth with his own over and over until Jongin is shivering and Kyungsoo realizes with a jolt of horror that they’re still in the kitchen. He pulls back sharply but the room is still empty and Jongin looks a little dazed.
It’s an amazing sight. Right up until he tries to steal some of the vegetables and Kyungsoo has to chase him out with the spoon.
* * *
Jongin crowds close, fiddling with his phone and looking up something on Instagram as the practice room empties several days later in a chorus of tired, happy voices and Minseok’s loud promise to take everyone out for ramen. Finally it’s only the two of them left; Kyungsoo in his jacket and dress pants and Jongin with his little towel around his sweaty neck and his sexy as hell crop top on.
He shyly tugs at one of Kyungsoo’s sleeves. It’s the first time they’ve done a full set in their soon-to-be stage outfits and Kyungsoo privately is fiercely jealous of everyone who is going to be laying eyes on Jongin’s belly button in the coming months.
Without looking up from the sheet music he’s filing for Chanyeol to look at later, Kyungsoo reaches up and tugs Jongin down with a hand to the back of his nape, turning at the last second to kiss him.
Jongin makes a soft sound and inches Kyungsoo away from the music stacks by the open sides of his stage jacket. He presses him blindly against the soundproof wall while they kiss, closing the distance to slot their bodies together. Kyungsoo tugs his head back a fraction as Jongin suckles on his lower lip.
“This isn’t-” Kyungsoo has to clear his throat. “It won’t go like this.”
“Good,” Jongin whispers, silencing Kyungsoo by angling his head with his hands and kissing him again. The change makes everything feel better aligned and Kyungsoo opens his mouth on instinct. Jongin’s tongue slips in, warm and wet and Kyungsoo sucks on it, clutching at Jongin’s shoulders until he comes back to himself.
He pulls them both apart and Jongin looks breathless and possessive. Jealousy is a wickedly good look for him, Kyungsoo realizes with a jolt. But then again Kim Jongin wears everything well.
* * *
“You leave tomorrow morning?”
The words are fragile and Jongin looks across from where he’s sitting on the end of Kyungsoo’s bed. It’s a pointless question really, as Kyungsoo is walking around the room packing a small bag. But Kyungsoo nods anyway.
“The driver will be here before dawn. It’s not a long trip to Namyangju but we’re needed in the trailers early.” He tosses several pairs of jeans into the bag and something nice to wear out in front of the cameras at the post-production party. “There will be events and interviews afterwards though so I’ve been told to expect a couple of days at the least and a week at most.”
Jongin flops back onto the bedcovers dramatically. Kyungsoo pokes a dangling bare foot with his own as he steps around the suitcase on the floor. “I’ll be back in time for our filming.”
Jongin grunts something intelligible from where he has his arm slung across his face, hiding in the crook of his elbow. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes unseen and drops the shirt he’s holding on top of the rest of the items without bothering to fold it. He climbs instead onto the bed, thighs bracketing Jongin’s, who lifts his head when he feels the mattress dip. His eyes are wide.
Kyungsoo settles his palms on either side of Jongin’s head, looking down. He’s on all fours above the larger boy and Kyungsoo gently lowers himself until they’re nose to nose.
“Did you want to make sure I have the scene perfect?”
Jongin blinks up at him, then slowly shuffles his arm down and around so he can reach up and cup Kyungsoo’s jawline. “You’re going to go slowly,” he breathes, and he knows it by heart now that they’ve been sneaking kisses almost every day for a week. Closing that last gap Jongin brushes his lips against Kyungsoo’s top one, capturing it. He gives it a tender kiss and then releases it just long enough to murmur, “Gently,” he fits their mouths together better and Kyungsoo answers with his own, pushing down into the press of Jongin’s soft lips. Jongin suckles and releases in deliberately measured pulses. When he finally lets his head drop back onto the covers his expression is nervous. “With lots of emotion,” he finishes sadly.
“And then?” Kyungsoo asks, watching Jongin carefully. He sees the way Jongin’s face scrunches up in confusion because they’ve never practiced anything further.
“And then… what?” Jongin repeats, puzzled.
“And then,” Kyungsoo smiles sincerely. “I’ll come home. To you.”
Jongin gives the happiest whoop and envelops Kyungsoo, squashing him down on top of him. He rocks them both back and forth until Kyungsoo, laughing, tells him he has to finish packing or they’ll never get to bed. Jongin reluctantly lets him go and as Kyungsoo stands he leans forward, hooking Kyungsoo’s littlest finger with several his own. He glances up from under his lashes.
Kyungsoo squeezes the fingers around his. “I promise.”
* * *