Jongin has always been a weak child.
When they were younger, Jongin used to catch colds with a startling frequency, so much that Chanyeol's memory of Jongin often was of him sniffling no matter what they were doing. The doctor said it could be due to the frequent teleportation putting a strain on the body. Molecules disintegrating and joining back again can take a toll on anyone.
Jongin was advised not to teleport so much, but that was like telling Jongdae to stop short circuiting the lights. Powers can't be quieted or denied.
As a result, Jongin is sensitive to colder weather, always bundling up in layers and layers of sweaters, scarves and fluffy beanies.
It had been a natural development of their friendship when one day Jongin sneezed and 10-year-old Chanyeol scooped him into a hug. Jongin discovered then that fire manipulators had a higher body temperature than normal and started cuddling up to Chanyeol more for warmth.
It was cute then, but now that they're both old enough to start thinking about the future and look for stable jobs, Chanyeol doesn't understand why Jongin still treats him like his own personal heater.
It’s not like he particularly minds, though.
“Where’s your koala?” Jongdae walks into the living room and asks, balancing a bowl of popcorn in one hand and three bottles of coke in the other. Chanyeol always blamed movie nights at the Kims for the weight around his tummy that won’t shake off. Even when they don’t meet up, years of Friday night popcorn and chips has made him peckish when the weekend is about roll around.
“I don’t know, he’s your brother. Why don’t you tell me?” Chanyeol shoots back, lazily letting his head fall back onto the couch so he can look up at Jongdae.
Chanyeol knows exactly where Jongin is. How could he not when his legs are going numb under the weight of Jongin’s body, when there’s a lick of hair tickling Chanyeol’s side. Jongin is snug and hidden under the blanket Chanyeol has thrown across the both of them, and Chanyeol’s not about to give Jongdae the chance to tease them.
“Here, warm the popcorn.” Jongdae pushes the bowl of popcorn at Chanyeol and Chanyeol barely catches it in time.
“I’m not your microwave,” Chanyeol protests, even though it didn’t work the first hundred times. He still cradles the bowl to his chest and ignores Jongdae’s look of triumph.
“No,” Jongdae agrees easily. “Just Jongin’s personal furnace.” He shoots finger guns at the television and it flickers to life, playing the opening credits of Spider-Man. There’s no place on the futon where Chanyeol and Jongin are cuddling, so Jongdae flops onto the carpet instead. The futon always runs too warm when Chanyeol is around anyway. “You play favourites, Park.”
Jongin shifts then, pressing his cheek against Chanyeol’s arm and murmurs, “Always your favourite.”
Chanyeol fights the urge to drop a kiss onto the crown of Jongin’s head and instead cards his fingers through Jongin’s soft hair. “Of course you are.”
Jongdae mumbles something about not wanting tall pyromaniacs as a brother-in-law and Chanyeol just ignores him in favour of sending little pulses of heat around Jongin.
Everyone always thinks that Chanyeol and Jongin are telepaths because they are sometimes creepily in sync. It’s just that through their almost twenty years of friendship, Chanyeol has learned to read Jongin. Jongin is a quiet person by nature and only opens up to people he is closest to, and Chanyeol prides himself for being Jongin’s closest friend.
Chanyeol gets too excited and too loud, sometimes a bit too trigger happy and prone to accidentally leaving burn marks on whatever flammable surface he touches, but Jongin seems to balance him out somehow.
No one indulges him like Jongin does.
When Chanyeol whines about wanting McDonald’s at two am, there’s a knock on his door just five minutes later and Jongin is standing there holding up chicken nuggets.
Jongin was Chanyeol’s personal hype man the summer Chanyeol decided to build the perfect beach body, dieting along with him and experimenting with various chicken breast recipes. Jongin didn’t put in as many hours at the gym as Chanyeol did and he definitely had more cheat days, but he still stayed as long as Chanyeol did, sometimes ending up reading comics on the empty benches as he waited for Chanyeol to finish his reps. They both ended up with an impressive set of abs, enough to draw adoring stares at the beach and Chanyeol teased Jongin about being a chick magnet just to see Jongin squirm in embarrassment.
Even back when they were kids, Jongin has always been there, quietly supporting Chanyeol. Like the time he teleported back with Junmyeon the first time Chanyeol had lost control of his powers and accidentally set a pile of leaves on fire, so that his water manipulator brother could prevent a forest fire. It was the first time Jongin had attempted to teleport with another person as well, and the whole ordeal landed him in bed for a week straight, completely draining his energy.
Jongdae can joke all he wants about Chanyeol being Jongin’s personal heater, but Jongin is Chanyeol’s rock, and maybe that’s more important than anything else.
The summer he turns 20, Chanyeol decides to go to Tokyo for an internship. He’s always wanted to visit Japan, spurred on by a misguided love of anime and a genuine appreciation of the culture.
In the weeks leading up to his departure, Jongin catches another bout of flu, a terrible one that almost has him admitted into the hospital when his fever rages too high. The fever sends his powers into a frenzy and Jongin has trouble staying in bed, sometimes fading in and out of different locations. Only a heavy cocktail of suppressants keep Jongin safely in bed, albeit too drugged out to stay awake for more than minutes at a time.
On a particularly warm night, Chanyeol wakes up to another body next to him and instinctively curls himself around who he knows is Jongin without opening his eyes.
Jongin lets out a little whimper of distress and Chanyeol immediately feels up his forehead, worrying at the warmth. Teleporting is always a strain on the body, made worse by Jongin’s bad condition.
“Have you been doing this all day?” Chanyeol asks and accepts Jongin’s whine as affirmation. He knows Jongin hates taking suppressants, hates the hollow feeling it leaves in his chest after the powers have been muted to a dull buzz.
“You should stay here for a few days,” Chanyeol proposes, holding Jongin closer. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”
Jongin doesn’t teleport again for three days and his fever breaks within 24 hours. Chanyeol faithfully stays by his side, feeding him everything he craves for and indulging Jongin’s every whim.
By the time a week rolls around and Chanyeol is standing by the door with his suitcases, ready to leave for the airport, Jongin looks as healthy as he can be.
The week has allowed them to play roommates, catching up on all the time they can get together before they have to separate for six months. Chanyeol has a strong suspicion that Jongin was healthy enough to go home just two days in, but it’s hard to turn away a cute, clingy friend who is always happy to play more games of Super Mario with him.
“Have a safe flight,” Jongin says, softer than usual. He bites in a cough and Chanyeol gently cups his cheeks, warming them just enough for Jongin to let out a pleased hum.
“I thought you were getting better, Jonginnie.” When he pulls his hands away, Jongin’s cheeks look flushed. “I’ll text when I land.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
That’s the last time Chanyeol sees Jongin for a long while.
When Chanyeol comes back from Tokyo, everything is different. Even in Tokyo, Chanyeol could feel Jongin slipping away from him. Their hourly chats turned to daily ones, and then sometimes Jongin would wait days before replying, then a week, and then not at all.
Chanyeol’s calls went unanswered. His messages unread.
When he checked in with Kyungsoo or Jongdae or even Sehun, they all seemed surprised that Jongin wasn’t responding to Chanyeol, but assured him Jongin was doing fine. He was just busy, they said, but Chanyeol could tell it was a rehearsed answer, lies fed to them by the person Chanyeol loves the most.
But Jongin must have had a good reason, so even as Chanyeol frets and worries for six whole months, he never gives up on sending Jongin regular updates.
Chanyeol goes to the Kim residence first before he even goes home, his body burning so hot that he leaves melted footprints behind him, a trail of snow sludge trailing up to the doorstep.
Junmyeon is the one who opens the door and surprise catches on his voice. “Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol peeks behind him discreetly, hoping to catch a glimpse of messy hair and gangly limbs. “Is Jongin home?”
“Jongin?” Realisation dawns on Junmyeon’s face, which turns into something Chanyeol has come to loathe. Sympathy. “He didn’t tell you?”
Dread is beginning to settle deep in Chanyeol’s chest but Joonmyun pushes ahead with his explanation. “Jongin moved to Busan two months ago to join the Busan Metropolitan Dance Company. Chanyeol,” Worry now etches itself across Joonmyun’s forehead. “You’re beginning to spark. Are you okay?”
It’s a good thing Junmyeon is a water manipulator and his touch extinguishes the flames starting to spread up Chanyeol’s hands.
“I’ll tell Jongin to call you,” Junmyeon assures him, sending him away with a pat on his back and a bottle of soda for the road.
They were best friends, and then they weren’t. Chanyeol can’t help but wonder what he did wrong.
Chanyeol has been waiting for this day for what seems like forever.
When Jongin teleports into his front yard, fresh from the train station and still tugging his luggage with him, Chanyeol is watching from behind the curtains of the living room.
Chanyeol wants to run to him and help him, fuss over the snow in his hair and how he’s not wearing socks with his sneakers, but he doesn’t. Instead he waits by the window, trying to remain unseen and watches Jongin hesitate in front of the door for one, two seconds.
The door flies open before the doorbell finishes ringing.
Jongin stands frozen in surprise, hand still lingering by the doorbell.
"I missed you," Chanyeol says. He meant to say hi, but some words have been lying at the tip of his tongue for a while.
Jongin lowers his chin into his scarf to hide the lower half of his face. "It's just been two years."
Chanyeol tugs the scarf down to scrutinise Jongin, drinking in his features. "What's the point of being friends with a teleporter when he doesn't visit you for a full two years?"
Jongin jerks his head away and chews on the inside of his cheek. "You know how..."
He trails off, and Chanyeol saves him from having to make up an excuse by gently grabbing his hand and pulling him indoors. “It’s cold, hurry up. You’re not dressed warmly enough again.“
The first thing he notices is that Jongin is no longer soft. They were both tall and lanky growing up, more limbs than necessary, but Jongin has bulked up considerably, filled out arms and broad shoulders. It makes Chanyeol feel self-conscious about himself, even though he hits the gym regularly. He can see the minute changes in Jongin’s face too, how his eyebags have mellowed out and his jaw line has become more pronounced. He looks like he finally grew into his features and Chanyeol just wants to openly stare, take in Jongin’s face and the way he worries his lower lip.
He knows Jongin keeps in touch with their other friends because Kyungsoo once let it slip that they have weekly skype video calls. Chanyeol has over 200 unread messages in his Kakaotalk conversation with Jongin.
Jongin has a tendency to let his hair grow too long, his bangs falling into his eyes now, peppered with small white flakes of snow. He looks as handsome as ever.
Chanyeol hesitates for only a brief moment, wondering if he’s overstepping boundaries, but his heart wins over his stubborn brain and he pulls Jongin in closer. Just like old times.
Jongin falters for a split second before he slips his arms around Chanyeol’s waist. Like this, it’s almost as if two years hasn’t passed. Like this, Chanyeol can almost forgive Jongin for leaving him behind.
“How are you?” It’s an odd question to ask a best friend but then again, a lot of things are odd with them.
“A little cold,” Jongin says. He snuggles closer to Chanyeol, burying his face in his chest. “But I’m warm now.”
Just like that, they fall back into a routine.
It turns out Jongin hasn’t improved his cooking skills in the past two years but neither has Chanyeol. Jongin’s onions are cut crookedly in different sizes, but it doesn’t matter when it all goes into the big pot of soft tofu stew that Chanyeol has on the stove.
“Do you think this needs more red pepper paste?” Chanyeol frowns, sipping daintily at the ladle. He scoops out more soup and holds it out for Jongin to taste.
“I used to use mackerel for my stews,” Jongin says, waving away the red pepper paste after giving Chanyeol an okay. “Lived near a fish market in Busan.”
“How was it there?”
“In Busan? A little lonely.”
Then why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you let me know where you lived, so I could visit? “It’s not the same here without you,” Chanyeol says instead. He turns the fire down to low and focuses his attention back on Jongin, hoping to catch his reaction.
“I’m back here now.” Jongin’s smile is so genuine and familiar. Chanyeol thinks he has forgiven Jongin the second he stepped through the door.
After dinner, they lie on Jongin’s bed, settling into a comfortable silence. Chanyeol has many questions but it’s too soon to ask, to break the fragile balance they have now. He’s just happy that Jongin is spread out next to him, his arm thrown across Chanyeol’s chest.
“While I was away, I learned a few tricks,” Jongin says.
“Like what?” Chanyeol asks absentmindedly, fiddling with the bears decorating Jongin’s bed.
Jongin suddenly links their arms together and Chanyeol feels his entire body lurch. When his head stops spinning, Chanyeol registers the smell of the ocean in the air before he hears the crashing of the waves.
There’s sand beneath him and tall buildings in the distance. It’s too cold for beach weather and he can only see a few groups of friends running among the waves. They teleported straight from Jongin’s bedroom so they’re not wearing shoes and Chanyeol bends his toes, digging into the soft sand.
Chanyeol has seen enough pictures to immediately place their location as Haeundae, Busan. It takes him too long to find his voice, his heart still in his throat at the thrill of teleporting. “We’re going to save so much on transportation.”
“Yeah but I can’t do it much, so start planning.”
“Maybe once a month.” Chanyeol wonders what they look like to everyone else, lying in the middle of the beach dressed much too thinly for the weather. Even with the sun out, Busan in winter is frigid cold. Luckily, Chanyeol is a fire manipulator and can create a small flame that floats around them and keeps them warm.
Jongin scrunches up his nose. “Once a year?”
“Can we go to Paris one day? I hear there are dogs everywhere on the street.”
Jongin gets to his feet and pulls Chanyeol up with him.“I’ll bring you anywhere, hyung. But come on, I want to show you my favourite cafe.”
“Please, just go back and get some clothes first,” Chanyeol suggests and Jongin sheepishly grins.
“Wait here. I’ll get our clothes and shoes.” Then he disappears into thin air.
Chanyeol sighs and lies back down, closing his eyes to listen to the waves.
Just when Chanyeol is starting to get restless and worried, Jongin appears again with a bulging backpack, a cupcake in one hand and sparklers in the other.
“For the birthdays I missed.” He explains, setting down the cupcake and pulling out a lighter. “Happy birthday, Merry Christmas, happy new year.”
“Jongin!” Chanyeol cries, feeling his eyes start to water. He tries to hold it in but the dam has burst.
Jongin’s smile softens and he hurries to envelope Chanyeol in a quick hug, careful to not kick the cupcake over. “Oh, baby. Always such a sensitive soul.”
Chanyeol doesn’t even notice the drop in the honorifics, hurrying to cup his hands around the flickering flame on the cupcake, sending pulses of energy to make it burn stronger. “You could’ve just asked me to light it,” he wails, big round tears falling down his cheeks. Now that he’s started crying, he simply can’t stop and the flame flickers along with his emotions.
“Silly hyung.” Jongin presses a kiss to Chanyeol’s temple and together they blow the candle out, two years of missed holidays and emotions blowing away with the wind.
In the end, they decide to rent a room in a cheap motel, Chanyeol not willing to go home so fast. Jongin suggests catching the sunrise the next morning and Chanyeol is more than happy to oblige, not wanting this dream to end.
“We’ve never been on a trip before,” Chanyeol says as they dine in one of the tent restaurants littering the sea. “Just the two of us.”
They’ve never had a drink together either. When Chanyeol left for Tokyo, Jongin was still a minor. Musing that thought, Chanyeol refills Jongin’s soju glass.
Jongin is beautiful under the fairy lights lining the tent, even when he’s tipping his head back to one shot his alcohol. He really does look different after two years, all jawline and deepset eyes. His voice too has deepened and Chanyeol really notes it now, as Jongin smiles and says, “We have lots of time to make more first memories.”
They wake up pressed against each other, Chanyeol tucked in Jongin’s arm.
“Wake up, little spoon,” Jongin whispers into his hair, but he doesn’t make any effort to move and Chanyeol keeps his eyes shut, just a little more. “We’re going to miss the sunrise.”
Chanyeol sleepwalks through freshening up, urged on by an uncharacteristically excited Jongin. He’s barely zipped up his jacket before Jongin laces their hands together and pulls him out the door.
Waking up early is worth it when the sun starts appearing over the horizon. Chanyeol is stunned speechless and he returns Jongin’s squeeze of his hand, both of them content to take in the beauty of nature in silence.
“It’s my first sunrise this year,” Chanyeol says quietly. It just seems appropriate to keep his voice low, not wanting to break the tranquillity of the surroundings. In the distance, he can see couples walking on the beach and he idly wonders if that’s how they look like to other people too.
Jongin’s arms snake around his waist, moving in closer so he can rest his chin on Chanyeol’s shoulder and suddenly, it’s all too much.
"Jongin?" Chanyeol says sharply, breaking away from Jongin and taking a step back.
Jongin widens his eyes, taken back by Chanyeol’s strong reaction. He puts more distance between him, hands falling hesitantly to his side. "S- sorry?"
"No, no, it's okay. You just surprised me."
They had played pretend all week, trying to stitch over the holes in time. Chanyeol had been happy to play along but now he just wants... Something, an explanation or an apology. He’s always wanted, probably since the first time Jongin snuggled into his embrace, he’s always wanted Jongin to be his, first as a friend, and then something more.
The feeling has only expanded in his chest all these years until it’s all he can think about. The past week has been like an oasis after two years of drought, intensifying his craving and now it’s loud, pushing against his chest until he can’t breathe.
"I was cold," Jongin says, voice small.
Chanyeol closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. Ten years of dealing with a clingy Jongin and he still can't stop his heart from going into hyperdrive. "Do you want my jacket?”
"I’m cold." Jongin has his fists clenched by his side, his sweater sleeves falling over his balled fists. Chanyeol realises only now that it’s his sweater that he thought he lost years ago. Seems like it ended up in Jongin’s possession after all.
“Alright, let’s go back to our room...”
"No, Chanyeol, I’m cold now," Jongin pouts, stubbornly shaking his head.
"What do you want me to do then?" His voice comes up sharper than he intends and Jongin flinches, drawing his hand back.
“You can’t just,” Chanyeol takes a deep breath to calm himself down and when he finally speaks, his anger bleeds out of him, leaving his voice just above a whisper, “you can’t just leave me for two years without a word and then come back here expecting me to welcome you into my arms.”
Jongin looks stricken and Chanyeol immediately wants to apologise. But it’s not Chanyeol who has to be sorry. It’s not Chanyeol who has two years of silence to explain.
In the end, it’s Jongin who breaks first. “Maybe we need to talk. But first, let’s go home.”
They trek back to the motel in silence, quickly throwing whatever belongings they have in the small backpack Jongin brought along.
Chanyeol takes Jongin’s outstretched hand when it’s offered and this time, he’s ready for the vertigo of falling through time dimensions.
What catches him by surprise is that they land in Chanyeol’s house, not Jongin’s.
Chanyeol watches as Jongin whips in and out of the living room, dropping more pillows and blankets each time he appears out of thin air. When he finally deems the nest he has built enough, he settles into the mess of blankets and pulls Chanyeol down next to him.
“I found out the reason I kept getting sick,” Jongin says softly, hugging his knees to his chest. “My powers were growing too fast for my body to handle and it was tearing me apart.”
Chanyeol immediately wants to hold Jongin close, wants to tuck him into his embrace like they’ve always done, but he wills himself to hold back.
“Then you left, and my body went haywire. I would wake up in the middle of the night somewhere else, sometimes too far from home for me to even place where I was.” Jongin frowns at the memory, clutching the blanket to himself tighter.
“So I went away to get better.” Jongin continues slowly. “I trained with one of the best teleporters in Busan, learning to control my powers. They told me I was tearing myself apart. When I thought of you, my feelings were so strong it was confusing myself, and it was sending the wrong signals to my brain. My body kept trying to go to you but I couldn’t teleport so far to Japan so it just manifested in sporadic bursts.”
“That’s it?” Chanyeol can feel a flicker of anger mixed in with the worry. It’s not a small matter but in the long scheme of things, it’s not something that couldn’t be solved if Jongin had just told Chanyeol the truth. Chanyeol would’ve kept his distance, saved both of them some loneliness.
He wouldn’t have gone to Tokyo if he had known.
“It was easier not thinking about you,” Jongin admits.
“Was it worth it?” Chanyeol asks, just to be cruel. He knows Jongin’s reasons are valid, but so are his own. It’s not easy to be the one left behind as a result of one-sided decisions. For every day that Jongin kept away, Chanyeol spent many sleepless nights wondering what he did wrong.
“No,” Jongin whispers. “I missed you every single day.”
“I was stupid.”
“You were an asshole for not contacting me for two full years,” Chanyeol agrees, making Jongin wince. He reaches out to hold Jongin’s hand, feeling and seeing the way Jongin visibly relaxes. “Teleporters are known to be good at avoiding things, but no matter how far you go, even if you’re out of sight, I know you’ll come back.”
He leans back, meeting Jongin’s gaze steadily. With a smile finally breaking the tension in the room, he lets the anger drop from his voice. “Let’s start again.”
Chanyeol was never truly angry in the first place.
And as natural as their friendship grows, Chanyeol leans down the same time Jongin lifts his head for a kiss.
Hanging out again is easy.
It’s been a long time coming and they gravitate to each other naturally, touch starved like they are trying to make up for two years of lost time.
“I replied to every one of your texts. I didn’t open the chat but I read them all in the notifications.” Jongin pulls out his phone and launches the Kakaotalk app. In an empty chatroom, Jongin talked to himself, one sided replies to conversations Chanyeol never knew existed.
Lying like this, their legs entwined and their chests pressing against each other, Chanyeol can feel their hearts beat wildly together. He's so overwhelmed with affection that he dips his head down to kiss the crown of Jongin’s head, then readjusts to kiss even lower, Jongin craning his head to chase his lips.
"Do you go around doing this to other men?" Chanyeol jokes lightly, his fingers dancing down Jongin’s face, the feather light touches sending a shiver down Jongin’s spine. “Push and pull, driving them crazy.”
Jongin's eyes dart to Chanyeol's lips again and Chanyeol indulges him, sucking in Jongin’s bottom lip until Jongin’s mouth falls open to give him access.
After years of wanting, Chanyeol can finally taste Jongin and he intends to take until they’re breathless tonight.
"I missed you," Jongin whispers when they finally pull apart for air. He moves his hand up to slide into Chanyeol’s hair, petting him gently and pulling on the curls. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Chanyeol closes his eyes and leans into the touch, too content to move further. “Me too.”
Jongin shakes his head urgently, suddenly looking fearful. His grip tightens in Chanyeol’s hair, almost pulling at the roots before it loosens, resuming a slow stroke through the strands. "I missed you so much. I was afraid- I was afraid I lost you, even though I left you in the first place.”
Chanyeol stills but doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t dare to even breathe.
“I understand if you hate me,” Jongin whispers, his hand slipping down Chanyeol nape and down his back, still so gentle and hesitant, like he’s mapping Chanyeol’s body to memory, leaving a trail of goosebumps with his touch. “I don’t deserve you.”
"Jongin, I’ve loved you since I saw you." It’s the most honest he has been all night. The confession just seems natural and stuns Jongin into silence. “I could never hate you.”
“I’ll make it up to you.” Jongin kisses his promises into Chanyeol’s skin, and Chanyeol really, truly believes him. “I’ll be so good to you from now on.”
The good thing about dating a teleporter is that no matter where they go, you know they’ll find their way back to you.
Jongin wakes up when he feels gentle hands supporting his neck, lifting him up slightly.
"Hey," he says groggily, a smile slipping out naturally. He feels languid, arms falling by his side like liquid.
"You fell asleep on the floor again," Chanyeol says accusingly, shifting until he has a more comfortable hold on Jongin.
"It’s cold and the floor has heating,” Jongin murmurs and loops his arms around Chanyeol's neck to make it easier to be carried. He buries his face in the crook of Chanyeol's collarbone, breathing in.
Chanyeol smells like the office, the stale scent of air conditioning and too many hours cooped inside a room without natural lighting.
"Bed?" Chanyeol asks, lifting Jongin up bridal style and heading towards the bedroom.
Jongin shakes his head and grips tighter. "No, you."
"I’m here," Chanyeol says fondly and carries him to the couch instead, settling them both in.
"Tell me about your day," Jongin says sleepily, tracing a finger down Chanyeol’s face, admiring his handsome boyfriend.
He's only half listening because his mind isn't completely free from the grasps of sleep yet but Chanyeol doesn't need his attention, just wants an audience to listen to his tales about office mishaps and urgent deadlines.
Jongin just likes listening to Chanyeol's deep voice and feeling the rumble of Chanyeol's chest against his cheek as he speaks.
“Mm hmm, and then what did you do?” Jongin tilts his head to let Chanyeol stroke down his back. “A little lower, babe.”
Chanyeol obediently hovers his hand over the tense spot between Jongin’s shoulders, increasing the heat just enough for the muscles to unclench. He continues on with an animated retelling about how his time manipulator co-worker has been slipping his way through deadlines, however illegal it was.
What they have is strange, but it works.
On days like this, Jongin feels like he has all the time in the world to love Chanyeol.