Tranquil as a Forest (But on Fire Within) (1/5)

[kaisooficrec]

Title: Tranquil as a Forest (But on Fire Within) Author: TBA Genre: Romance, Fluff, Travelling!AU Rating: PG-13 Length: ~38,000 words Summary: Kyungsoo, despite being fond of his apartment and lacking in most forms of social skills, is fairly excited to go on a three-week trip to China as a travel blogger in Baekhyun’s place. Or at least, he is until he learns he’s going with Kim Jongin, with whom he shares a...rocky history. A/N: I know the characters are American, but it pained me too much to write Kyungsoo Do. So just ignore the inaccuracies. Also, this is probably not how winning plane tickets works. Sue me. I’ve been to several of the places mentioned in this fic but not all, so excuse inaccuracies pls. As a sidenote, that title is a Mulan reference. I hope everyone got that. Deep in the recesses of the internet, on a little blog with an embarrassingly hipster name and artsy header, under the tab About the authors, is a small paragraph under the words Kyungsoo - writer/editor/photographer/other stuff. It says: Kyungsoo is an old friend of Baekhyun's, who saved him from a life of post-graduation blues and unemployment by recruiting him to write for his blog. He has a BA in History and an eagle eye for grammatical errors, and makes up the dark, broody, and sarcastic half of this blog's leading pair. Although he prefers to stay holed up in his apartment, he occasionally gets dragged along on Baekhyun's wild adventures, takes pictures, writes articles, and provides snarky commentary. Baekhyun's paragraph is above his, splashed across the top of the page, and is, of course, significantly longer and more flattering, because it's his blog and he wrote them. Kyungsoo doesn't really care; who even reads those blurbs, anyway? And Kyungsoo isn't there to become internet famous. He's there half because Baekhyun forced him, and half because Baekhyun pays him, actually quite generously considering most of Kyungsoo's work entails editing Baekhyun's sloppily written blog posts and otherwise doing blog maintenance, replying to comments, keeping track of their finances, emailing people, etc etc. He basically takes care of all the tedious, boring work so that Baekhyun can go out on grand adventures without worrying about things. Kyungsoo likes tedious, boring work, so it's fine. When Kyungsoo was in college, young and wide-eyed and naive, he had not imagined himself working for an artsy, on-a-budget travel blog in ten years. He wasn't even in a relevant field of study. What he had failed to realize, of course, was that history is not a particularly employable degree, and after graduating he would still be working at the same dry-cleaner he'd been hired at in his first year. At that time he hadn't seen Baekhyun in four years, and hadn't picked up a camera in just as long, despite being quite devoted to it before that. Things happened. And then Baekhyun had appeared, uninvited as usual, and dragged him back home to start a new adventure with him. Baekhyun had always been spirited, impulsive—the visionary. Kyungsoo wasn't much good for having wild ideas, but he was good for brunt work, and that's what Baekhyun needed if he was going to really get his blog going. It'd been rough going at first. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo lived together for the first year and a half, along with Baekhyun's boyfriend, which was not a particularly pleasant arrangement. Money had been tight, and it was hard to scrape enough together to send Baekhyun off on trips to write about. They picked up odd part-time jobs where they could, Baekhyun started networking online more, and suddenly things sort of took off. They're still not a huge blog. They're far from being famous in any capacity. But they have a decent following, they make enough money that Kyungsoo was able to move into his own tiny apartment, they're fairly well-known in travel-blogging circles. Baekhyun has an instagram (he never could convince Kyungsoo to get one) and he has several thousand followers. Baekhyun's definitely the face of the blog, the one with all the online friends and fans and charm. Baekhyun’s the one with the photography degree, the one with the complete lack of fear of being alone in a country where he doesn’t speak the language, the iron stomach, the photogenic smile, the ability to get along with anyone. He’s perfectly suited to his job, traipsing around the world and taking gorgeous pictures and writing enthusiastic posts about what he’s seen and how you can see it too, without breaking the bank. And Kyungsoo—quiet, nitpicky, enjoying the occasional jaunt but preferring the familiarity of home—is suited to his. Four years after they start working together, Baekhyun enters a photography contest, where first prize is a pair of tickets to China. Somehow, he wins. The flight is in late May, four months away. It’s the same week Baekhyun gets home from his honeymoon. Both dates are locked down and non-negotiable. As it turns out, not everyone can up and leave for China for three weeks with only four months’ notice. Kyungsoo resigns himself to going almost immediately, with only a little cajoling from Baekhyun, but they have another ticket and no one to give it to. Baekhyun swears up and down that he’ll find someone, in the midst of preparations for his own wedding, and then he leaves Kyungsoo to start planning his trip. Kyungsoo knows Baekhyun loves seat-of-the-pants, spur of the moment shit, but Kyungsoo does not work that way. Two weeks before Baekhyun’s wedding—four weeks before the flight to Beijing—Baekhyun sweeps into Kyungsoo’s apartment unannounced at 3 in the afternoon, looking smug as anything. “I found you a guy.” “If this is another ploy to get me a date to your wedding, so help me god, I will murder you,” Kyungsoo tells him without turning around from where he’s scrolling through Lonely Planet’s page on Shanghai. Baekhyun is silent, and then Kyungsoo does turn around, eyes narrowed. His friend looks torn, then calculating, then disappointed. “No, no, he’s busy that day. Damn. Which is actually how I found him, though, because I was going to ask him to do the video for the wedding, but then he couldn’t. But anyway! That’s not what I meant! I found you a guy to go to China with.” “Really?” Kyungsoo turns around fully. “Who?” “I don’t think you know him, I worked with him once a long time ago when I was first starting out, I took pics for him. He does freelance videography work, like filming weddings obviously, and he also has a YouTube channel? He dances and stuff, and does some wellness shit, I dunno.” Baekhyun waves his hand, like it’s not important. “Anyway, he’s perfect. We talked about him doing all the video and making a little documentary type thing. Wouldn’t that be cool? A different media format, a new face, a new audience.” Kyungsoo shrugs. “What’s his name?” “Kim Jongin?” Kyungsoo’s heart skips a beat. No, no, it can’t be him. There are probably a lot of Kim Jongins in California, right? It’s probably not the same one. “How old is he?” he asks, going for casual. Not that he thinks Baekhyun would pick up on his panic, even if Kyungsoo painted it on his forehead. “Like your age, maybe a year younger?” Baekhyun shrugs again. His lack of attention to detail in anything other than photographs is astounding. “He’s a cool dude, and he was totally willing to do the trip. Said he’s always wanted to travel abroad. He even knows some Chinese.” Kyungsoo swallows hard. “Does he live around here?” If he does, Kyungsoo should be fine. He’ll be fine. Kyungsoo went to UCLA, six hours south. “He does now, yeah. Moved here pretty recently from SoCal. We worked together when I was out there for two weeks trying to convince you to work for me.” He smiles winningly. Kyungsoo is sweating now. “Oh my god.” Baekhyun’s smile vanishes. “What?” “I think I know him.” “Really?” He lights up again, beaming. “Oh my god, Baek. Can’t you find someone else?” And the light that is Baekhyun’s face switches off again. “What? No, he’s perfect. Seriously perfect. He has a background in video, he’s free, he has a big following that will watch his stuff and therefore see our stuff, he’s willing. This is literally a golden opportunity.” “I don’t want to go with him,” Kyungsoo says, skin clammy as he flashes hot and cold. “Oh, come on, Soo. Were you college enemies or something? It’s been years, I’m sure it’s all in the past or whatever. I must have mentioned your name to him, and he didn’t say anything.” Kyungsoo grimaces at that. “Maybe it’s not that same one,” Baekhyun offers. “Let’s look him up.” Kyungsoo opens up a new browser tab with nervous fingers and navigates to YouTube. Baekhyun reaches over his shoulder and awkwardly types out “CallMeKimKai”. A list of videos appear, and Kyungsoo doesn’t even have to click on them, because the first one shows a screenshot of a smiling face and bright eyes and the sweaty column of a throat and fuck. Fuck Kyungsoo’s life, seriously. His stomach drops, but Baekhyun is already clicking on the video—titled Vlog #16 - Life Update + some new choreo—and there he is, Kim fucking Jongin, smiling and chattering about moving closer to San Francisco, where his family lives. Goddamn, he looks exactly like he did in college. “So?” Baekhyun says, craning his neck to look at Kyungsoo’s face. And he must look really stricken, because Baekhyun says, “Uh oh.” “Guh,” Kyungsoo says eloquently, and on his screen, Jongin sets up his camera and backs up to perform thirty seconds of choreography, no music. He’s wearing this awful black wifebeater with a stretched-out neckline, and his hair is damp with sweat, and he laughs awkwardly when he finishes, saying something about having trouble with this or that bit. Hell if Kyungsoo’s listening. “Well,” Baekhyun says. “It’s too late now. We don’t have time to find someone else, and I’m not going to tell him now that he can’t go after I literally just told him the ticket’s his. Plus, he’s coming over in like fifteen minutes.” Kyungsoo jolts in his seat. “You gave him my address?” “Well, yeah, you two are going on a trip together in a month. You might need to plan some things together.” Baekhyun pouts. “I was being responsible!” Kyungsoo groans. This is going to be terrible. Terrible. “You are the worst. I’m never trusting you to choose my travel partner again. I’m never going to trust you with anything again. I might even rescind my acceptance of your offer to be a groomsman. You don’t deserve my presence at your wedding.” “Aw, come on, Soo. It can’t possibly be that bad. This kid is an angel. You should have seen his face when he said he couldn’t film my wedding, because his grandma’s birthday is that day. We barely even know each other, and he looked like he thought I was going to give back his friendship bracelet. He’s a total sweetheart.” Kyungsoo doesn’t answer, because the YouTube video is ending and a new one is automatically starting right after it, and it’s Jongin dancing again, this time on a building’s open rooftop in the rain, wet clothes clinging to the long lines of his body and water sliding down his skin, and everything is just very bad. “Have I told you recently that I hate you?” he says eventually. “Probably. What’s your problem with him, anyway? Like, what could he possibly have done that was so horrible that you’re still holding a grudge, four years later?” Kyungsoo opens his mouth to answer, but he hesitates a second too long, and the doorbell rings. “Oh!” Baekhyun says, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “He’s early. I’ll let him in.” Kyungsoo makes a strangled sound, but Baekhyun is already gone, rushing to answer the door. Kyungsoo stands up just in time as the door opens, and there he is, hair tousled, clothes rumpled like he threw them on in a rush, and smiling like the dawning sun. Jongin spots Kyungsoo over Baekhyun’s shoulder, and Baekhyun obviously failed to mention his name after all, because a look of shock passes over his face. “Kyungsoo?” he says incredulously. “Do Kyungsoo?” Horrible. Even worse than expected. Kyungsoo’s insides twist, and he feels his mouth twist with it, automatic, into something like apathy and vague disdain. “Oh,” he says, and it feels like the words are coming from someone else’s mouth. “It’s you.” God fucking damnit. The problem is, of course, that Jongin never did anything wrong. He never did anything at all, really, one way or another. They met at the beginning of Kyungsoo’s third year of college. He was a friend of a friend—Sehun, an old family friend of Kyungsoo’s and Jongin’s new roommate, introduced them at a Wednesday game night. “Nice to meet you, Kyungsoo,” Jongin said, then 19, smiling bashfully, hair unruly. It was instantaneous. Kyungsoo somehow never expected it, even after years and years of dealing with it. He looked at Jongin, all attractive and charming, and his skin got all clammy, and his throat went dry, and his smile melted off his face, and his posture went stiff. “Hey,” he said, giving the world’s fastest, sloppiest handshake before turning around and wandering away. He wandered straight into the corner, where he belonged, and sat down with a handful of pretzels. “God,” he whispered, appalled at himself. “God, Kyungsoo, no.” “Hyung?” Sehun said a minute later, looming over him with a concerned look. Most of them spoke only English, but Sehun insisted on calling Kyungsoo by the title he’d given him as a child. “What’s up? I think Jonginnie thinks he did something to offend you.” Kyungsoo groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “I know, I’m sorry, I just— This always happens, I can’t help it.” “Can’t help what? Being a jerk to him?” Sehun’s lips twisted wryly. “Yes,” Kyungsoo said emphatically. “Exactly. Tell him— Tell him it’s not his fault. I’m just. Yeah.” “Can’t you tell him?” Sehun asked. Kyungsoo reached out and took Sehun’s hand, very earnest. “No,” he said. “I can’t.” And he couldn’t. Jongin approached him three separate times that evening, smiling and friendly and sweet, and each time, Kyungsoo froze up and turned into the World’s Most Standoffish Asshole. There was always a moment of frozen limbo in between Jongin’s comment or question and Kyungsoo’s response, a moment of panic and possibility, wherein Kyungsoo would hope that maybe this time, he’d give a friendly reply. Maybe this time, his mouth would cooperate with his brain, and he’d say something funny, or flirty, or even just polite. And then his face would close off, and his body would angle away, and he’d say something like, “Hmm,” or, “Oh,” or, “Sure.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Twenty years old, and Kyungsoo couldn’t hold a normal conversation with anyone even mildly attractive who wasn’t an established platonic friend, because god knows what would happen if he acted inviting towards someone who could be interested in him. He might actually get a date. The horror. Kyungsoo knows he’s not alone. He’s read about people like him, cold and aloof towards the main character, with their one-word text replies and permanent frowns and short answers. But no one ever shows their side of the story. No one ever hears about the thought process behind it, the six lengthy texts he writes out and then erases before finally sending back “ok” and subsequently beating himself up about it for hours. No one hears about the endless mental repetitions of “smile, Kyungsoo, maybe he’ll fucking like you if you SMILE and say nice things, he’s going to walk away if you act like you can’t stand him, aaaaand he’s leaving, goddammit.” This is standard crush behaviour for Kyungsoo. You like him? He better never find out. Because for some reason, every time said crush interacts with him, something inside Kyungsoo thinks that that would be the ultimate humiliation. It’s not like he wants to scare every interested party away. It’s not like he wants to be alone forever. But his subconscious clearly does, because every time Jongin comes around, or any other attractive single guy for that matter, Asshole Kyungsoo comes out to play. Sehun never understood. “Why did you say that?” he asked Kyungsoo one day, three months after meeting Jongin, when Kyungsoo responded to Jongin’s cheerful inquiry about what he did during the break with a blunt, uninterested ‘nothing.’ “I know you did stuff. You told me all about it yesterday.” “I don’t freaking know, okay,” Kyungsoo hissed, hunching his shoulders and walking down the hall briskly, away from his failures. “I don’t even know why Jongin keeps trying, because you’re super rude to him.” Sehun jogged to keep up with him. “You should just put yourself out there, you know? It’s really not that hard.” “I. Can’t.” Kyungsoo clenched his jaw, chest tight. “I can’t do it.” And that was it. He just couldn’t do it. The only people Kyungsoo could carry a conversation with were friends he had no interest in dating, and thus Kyungsoo had no chance of ever scoring a date (or at least, not a second date), because if he hit it off with someone, it was because he was completely not attracted to them. Even if he didn’t like them, personally, if he thought they were interested in him or if they were good-looking, Kyungsoo knew he was done for. It was hopeless. Kyungsoo’s only long-term relationship had been in middle school, and they had never gone beyond holding hands, because Kyungsoo had had no desire to kiss him. That was pretty telling of how their relationship would have gone from there. Jongin, bless his heart, didn’t give up as easily as most. Granted, they were forced into each other’s general vicinity on a semi-regular basis thanks to mutual friends, but Jongin continued to approach Kyungsoo occasionally and make various attempts to be friendly and polite. He probably saw Kyungsoo with Sehun and other friends sometimes, and knew that Kyungsoo was not a total asshole to everyone. But Kyungsoo—poor, emotionally stunted Kyungsoo—never managed to not be a total asshole to Jongin, despite his many many attempts to convince himself to act otherwise. Eventually, Jongin drifted and gave up, although they kept seeing each other around, and Kyungsoo continued to have a crush on him from afar. How could he not? Jongin was wonderful. Attractive, talented, smart, sweet. He wasn’t exactly Kyungsoo’s image of the perfect man for himself, but he was totally crush-worthy, and Kyungsoo sighed over him from a distance for two years until he graduated and moved back to northern California. It just wasn’t meant to be, he told himself. If Kyungsoo was ever going to get a man, he’d have to be the bold and brazen type, willing to make the first move and not give up until they got to a point where Kyungsoo could treat him like a normal person. And Jongin was not that kind of person. So Kyungsoo let it go. It wasn’t like he was ever going to see Jongin again. And then, of course, four years later Jongin is standing in his front entrance, looking stunned but not nearly as horrified as Kyungsoo feels. Which is probably good, because they’re going on a three-week trip together in a month. “Wow, long time no see,” Jongin says, breaking out into a smile. The years have been...very kind to him. He looks almost exactly the same as he had four years ago, but slightly less boyish in the face, his jaw sharper, his hair slightly tidier, like he maybe styled it. His teeth are just as blindingly white as Kyungsoo remembers, though. “I had no idea you were the person Baekhyun was talking about.” The socially competent side of Kyungsoo’s brain says, “Wow, hi, it’s great to see you again, what have you been up to?” but he opens his mouth and out comes, “Well, it’s me.” Jongin’s smile falters, but stays up there, and Baekhyun shoots Kyungsoo a confused look. “I didn’t even know you’d moved up here. What are the chances?” “Hmm,” says Kyungsoo vaguely as his heart rabbits. “So…” Jongin shifts awkwardly. “I hear you have a plane ticket for me?” “We still have to register your name,” Kyungsoo says, and turns around to sit at his computer again. Facing away, he scowls at himself darkly, fists clenching before he starts pulling up his email, palms sweaty. “I’ll need your name and passport number and stuff.” It’s silent behind him, and when Kyungsoo turns, he catches Baekhyun and Jongin exchanging shrugs and pained looks. Kyungsoo’s stomach turns. This is not going well. He stays quiet for the remainder of the meeting, only speaking when he has to, and keeping his responses as neutral as possible. He gets Jongin’s information to send to the contest people so they can put it on their tickets, and lets Baekhyun do the rest of the talking, chatting with Jongin about what he’s hoping to see from the trip and the documentary. “I didn’t know you did photography, Kyungsoo,” Jongin ventures tentatively, and Kyungsoo stares at his computer screen and shrugs. “We both did photography in high school,” Baekhyun jumps in. “We took a few courses together back then. He’s taken some more since he started working for me, but he hasn’t gotten a chance to really showcase his skills. This’ll be a good opportunity for him.” Kyungsoo hums, adding in a nod for good measure. “Do you...like travelling?” Jongin asks, the poor guy. “It’s alright,” Kyungsoo says, clicking between tabs aimlessly. “He mostly prefers to stay at home,” Baekhyun says. “He always likes it once he’s there, though. He’s just not very adventurous, so you’ll have to drag him around.” Jongin huffs a small laugh, and Kyungsoo wheels away to his scanner. “Can I see your passport?” he asks. “You need to apply for a Chinese visa.” “Oh, yeah!” Jongin says, scrabbling for his bag. “Here.” Kyungsoo nods, takes it, and gets back to work. “Sorry,” Baekhyun whispers behind him, and Kyungsoo closes his eyes and swallows hard. Later, Baekhyun asks Jongin if he wants to come over for dinner with him and his fiancé on Sunday, and invites Kyungsoo along too. He knows he should say yes. He knows it would be the polite, normal thing to do. But he also knows it’ll go badly, he knows it won’t be any different from today, so he says, “My brother’s coming down that day,” and gives the most apologetic shrug he can muster. He’s not that successful. Jongin leaves around 9:30, with Kyungsoo’s number and email address so that they can continue to plan their trip another day, hopefully not face-to-face. Baekhyun rounds on Kyungsoo as soon as he’s gone, eyebrows furrowed. “What is wrong with you?” he asks, and it’s only half accusing, and half concerned. He knows Kyungsoo well. “What did he do to you? Because I don’t think he’s aware of it. And I know your brother isn’t coming down on Sunday.” Kyungsoo groans and lies down on his couch, turning to face the back so that he doesn’t have to look at Baekhyun’s disappointed face. “He didn’t do anything,” he says. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “You better not talk to him like that in the documentary,” Baekhyun warns. “Because I will kick your ass if you ruin this for us.” “It’ll be fine,” Kyungsoo says, voice muffled in the upholstery. He prays really hard that it will be. The month leading up to the trip are pure insanity. Baekhyun’s going crazy getting ready for his wedding, which means Kyungsoo is going crazy as well, as are all their friends who are also in the wedding party. And then that’s over, and Baekhyun’s gone on his honeymoon, and Kyungsoo is editing his blog posts sent back from Guatemala while simultaneously trying to plan his own trip. Which he does entirely via email and text and Google docs, because god help him, he will avoid seeing Jongin in person for as long as he possibly can. The day before the flight, Baekhyun skypes Kyungsoo all the way from Central America to approve his packing list. “Only bring one sweater, it’ll probably be really warm,” Baekhyun tells him, voice choppy. “I know,” Kyungsoo says, rolling his eyes. “I’m bringing this one.” He gestures to his torso, which is wrapped in his old navy UCLA hoodie. It has a hole in the cuff of one sleeve, but it’s still holding up pretty well, considering he’s had it for six years. “Seriously, Soo? That one?” Baekhyun’s cocked eyebrow is just as potent from several countries away. “It’s my comfort sweater. I always wear this sweater when I’m going through a hard time. And I’m about to go through a very hard time,” Kyungsoo tells him, making a face. Baekhyun snorts. “Sure, okay,” he says. “You have good walking shoes?” “Yes, Baekhyun.” And then the big day dawns, bright and a little chilly, and Kyungsoo double-checks that he has all his things together, his passport and his tickets and his visa, his toothbrush and his deodorant, makes sure everything is in order, and then checks his things obsessively all day until it’s time to head for the airport on the subway. He meets Jongin in the front lobby at 5pm, as planned, and the moment he sees the younger man, he nearly turns around and walks straight back out. Jongin spots him before he can, though, smiling sleepily and then brightening as he gestures between them. “Hey look,” he says cheerfully. “We match.” Kyungsoo tries to laugh, he really does, but all he manages is a smile that probably looks anything but humorous. “Wow,” he says, and briefly considers if he has enough time to go back home and exchange his UCLA sweater for a different one, because dammit, Jongin even has the exact same design, only in grey. Jongin looks infinitely cuter in his, though, all sleepy and rumpled and soft, like he just woke up from a nap, and Kyungsoo is sweating already. He can’t believe he’s going to have to spend three entire weeks with this guy. This is a recipe for disaster. “Aren’t these sweaters, like, unbelievably soft though? I wear mine all the time. It’s like being wrapped in a warm hug.” Jongin laughs, ducking his head bashfully, and curls his fingers around the handle of a huge bag. “Should we get going?” “Sure,” Kyungsoo says, grateful that Jongin has ended his own conversation and given him the opportunity to give a straightforward answer instead. “Did you already print off your ticket?” “Yup.” Jongin lets his backpack fall from his shoulders—enormous and stuffed full, like Kyungsoo’s—and opens the front pocket to dig out his ticket. “I’m actually impressed with myself for remembering. I generally have a terrible memory for this kind of stuff. I’m proud of myself for being a responsible adult.” He shoots Kyungsoo a small grin. “I think I only remembered because I was terrified of disappointing you right off the bat.” Kyungsoo winces. He knows he comes off as intimidating to basically anyone he meets, and this can only be intensified by the way he reacts to people like Jongin. “That being said, don’t be afraid to, like, push me around,” Jongin says brightly. “I give you full rights to use whatever means necessary to make sure I remember stuff. I’m basically a large child, so if the urge strikes you to mother me, please feel free.” Kyungsoo thinks he’d be a lot safer if Jongin wasn’t so adorable in everything he did. “Alright,” is all he says, finding his ticket in his carry-on bag. He nods towards Jongin’s largest duffel, which looks more like a hockey bag or something. “Those your cameras?” “And accessories,” Jongin says, nodding. “It’s all wrapped up and cushioned in there. Gotta get it checked as fragile and all that.” Kyungsoo nods, hefting his own camera bag, which is considerably smaller. Turns out only shooting stills has its benefits. “Let’s get going then.” He leads the way to luggage check, and then through airport security and so on. Jongin trails along behind him, always a few steps back, and Kyungsoo doesn’t mind that. He’d rather take the lead anyway. Despite being chatty earlier, Jongin is silent as they go through the motions, right up until they find their gate and settle down. Then, Kyungsoo looks right at Jongin for the first time since entering the airport and notices how pale he looks. “Are you...okay?” Kyungsoo forces himself to ask, despite all the voices screaming at him that that’s showing too much interest, tone it down, you’re embarrassing yourself. Jongin gives him a small, shaky smile. “I actually, um. Am not a big fan of planes,” he admits. “It just kind of hit me that I’m about to be on one for thirteen hours or so.” Kyungsoo stares at him for several seconds, half of him wanting to scoff and the other half very aware of how terrified Jongin looks right now. In the end, he just says, “Let me know if you need anything,” and then moves to lift the camera he’s taking with him onto the plane out of his bag to snap a few pictures of the airport terminal. “Right, I should do some filming here, shouldn’t I,” Jongin says, fumbling with his own carry-on. “You know, where it all starts and all that. Do I look like a hot mess? The lighting in here is terrible, god.” Kyungsoo glances at him, and yeah, he kind of does look like a hot mess. Emphasis on the hot. (He’s sweating.) “You don’t have to be in the shot,” he says, trying to sound reassuring but mostly just coming across as bored and uninterested in Jongin’s plight. Goddamn. “Film the terminal a bit, us boarding, maybe the takeoff through the window.” “Right, that’s a good idea, you have good ideas.” Jongin laughs nervously, running a hand through his damp hair. “You should be film director, honestly.” “I have no background in film,” Kyungsoo says, turning away and scowling at himself because really. It was a joke. Just take the fucking joke. Jongin doesn’t respond, but a moment later the camcorder is on and recording, and Jongin is taking his advice, getting footage of the bustling terminal around them. Kyungsoo snaps an unnecessary number of photos to distract himself from how soft and human Jongin looks, dressed in comfortable travelling clothes and sweating nervously and looking sleepily at his camcorder screen. Eventually it’s time to board, and they find their seats on the plane and sit down. Jongin takes the seat next to the window first, since that’s the seat specified on his ticket, but as soon as Kyungsoo puts his carry-on in the overhead compartment and settles down next to him, Jongin stands up and says, “Can we please switch? Please?” Kyungsoo looks up at him in surprise, sees how wide his eyes are, and immediately pushes back into the aisle in the midst of passing traffic so that Jongin can shuffle out and Kyungsoo can slide into the window seat. By the time Jongin sits down again, he’s breathing kind of hard and his forehead is shiny with sweat. “Sorry,” he huffs, pulling the neckline of his sweater away from his throat. “I forgot how crowded and tight planes are.” “It’s alright,” Kyungsoo says quickly. “You okay?” “I just need to relax,” Jongin says, sliding down in his seat and closing his eyes, breathing deep through his nose. “Wow. This is worse than I anticipated.” Kyungsoo struggles for several moments to find something to say, something comforting but not too friendly (because they hardly know each other, it would be weird, would it be weird?), and eventually ends up saying nothing because the silence drags on for too long. Jongin does some breathing exercises or something, smiles charmingly at the flight attendant who spots him and asks if everything is alright, and then pats his face dry with the sleeve of his sweater. Since Kyungsoo is now the one next to the window, it’s his job to get the footage of the takeoff (discreetly, since electronics aren’t allowed during takeoff), which Jongin seems happy to leave to him, clutching at his armrests and breathing slow through his mouth. Kyungsoo glances over at him frequently, but Jongin’s anxiety never escalates beyond profuse sweating and shallow breathing, so he doesn’t say anything. “Thanks,” Jongin breathes as he takes the camcorder back nonetheless, the plane stabilizing as they continue their ascent. Kyungsoo just nods, turning to look out the window. “So, I think I’m just going to drug myself up for the rest of this trip,” Jongin says a minute later, tapping out nervous rhythms on his armrest. “With what?” Kyungsoo asks, mildly concerned. “The kind of anti-nauseant that makes you drowsy,” Jongin tells him, sounding somewhat proud. “A staple on any long trip.” “Well,” Kyungsoo says, because he usually just suffers through motion sickness and Baekhyun barely even knows the meaning of the word. “Okay then.” “This better work,” Jongin mutters, and pops two capsules from a little container he fishes out of his bag. Kyungsoo focuses on digging out his iPod and earphones, untangling the latter from his charging cords, and by the time he’s got that all sorted and his music playing, Jongin’s leaning his forehead against the seat in front of him and is out cold. So. Apparently that does work, then. Jongin wakes up again two hours after takeoff, just in time for the flight attendant to come around with their first meal, bleary-eyed and adorably confused. He happily eats the pork and noodles given to him, though, while they make Kyungsoo feel nauseous almost instantly. Just his luck. Jongin is a pretty ideal flying partner, minor panic attacks aside. He’s quiet and he sleeps a lot, and when he’s not sleeping he’s watching movies on the screens attached to every seat, or he’s smiling sunnily at the flight attendants who come by to offer them drinks, or he’s playing games on his phone and listening to music. He seems mostly okay after takeoff, although he occasionally gets up to walk around, taking deep breaths. He’s much better than Baekhyun, who talks constantly and tries to make friends with everyone and makes noises when he sleeps. Jongin does, however, fall asleep on Kyungsoo’s shoulder at one point. And he doesn’t wake up. Kyungsoo is peacefully trying to get a few hours of shut-eye about five long, boring hours into the flight, his seat tilted back and his neck pillow promising some support, when a sudden pressure against his side jolts him out of a doze and he turns his head to see Jongin snoozing against him. Kyungsoo doesn’t move, frozen with surprise and unease. If it were Baekhyun in Jongin’s place, he would either just endure it with equal measures of fondness and exasperation, or he’d shove his head off. But Jongin is not Baekhyun. Jongin is a man that Kyungsoo had a crush on in college and has never been able to carry a conversation with because of it. Kyungsoo doesn’t sleep for the next half hour, tense and anxious, worried about waking Jongin, or about Jongin waking up on his own and feeling embarrassed, thus making Kyungsoo embarrassed, or about Jongin waking up and realizing their position and somehow seeing right through Kyungsoo’s attraction to him. What a nightmare. But eventually Jongin does wake up, on his own, and all he does is blink groggily, yawn, and reach for his iPod. Kyungsoo says several silent words of thanks. About an hour later, suddenly, Jongin sits up and says, “We should film something.” That “something” turns out to be a getting-to-know-you, 20 Questions type of thing, because, as Jongin says, “My subscribers don’t know who you are, and yours don’t know me. If it turns out to be stupid, we can just cut it.” “I guess,” Kyungsoo says, scratching at the back of his neck uncertainly. “But I’ve never been on film before.” “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just act more enthusiastic than you are.” Kyungsoo doesn’t know if that’s a general tip or something specific to him. It’s probably the latter. Then Jongin adds, “You’re probably fine, though, because you’re cute.” Kyungsoo chokes a little. “Um.” “Anyway, microphones, then cameras. Let’s go!” Jongin is all million-watt smiles as he counts down and starts recording, and when he leans in to fit both of them in the frame a minute later, Kyungsoo watches himself visibly cringe away. Damn. “Hey,” Jongin says cheerfully, either not noticing or just ignoring it. “Welcome to our flight. I’m Jongin, and this is Kyungsoo.” “Hi,” Kyungsoo says, trying not to look completely miserable and managing a small smile. “Kyungsoo and I are travelling buddies for the next three weeks, so we figured it’d be a good idea to get to know each other first. Right?” “Yeah,” Kyungsoo says vaguely. Act more enthusiastic, he said, Kyungsoo berates himself silently. But he can’t do it. “So we’re doing it 20 Questions style. I ask a question, you answer it, then I answer it myself. Then you ask a question. Okay?” “Okay.” Kyungsoo starts trying to think of questions immediately. Nothing too personal, nothing that makes him sound too interested… Jongin starts off by asking Kyungsoo his favourite colour, which actually makes Kyungsoo snort before he answers (black). Then Kyungsoo asks his birthday, and he’s surprised when it’s only two days from his. It makes Jongin grin. “We’re almost twins!” he exclaims. “Like with our sweaters. Look, guys, Kyungsoo and I are wearing matching sweaters by accident. Isn’t that super cute?” “We went to the same university,” Kyungsoo says, hoping his cheeks aren’t pink on camera. “It’s super cute,” Jongin answers for himself. “Okay, Question 3.” Most of their questions are simple, innocent. Favourite food, secret talent, number of siblings. Jongin laughs at almost all of Kyungsoo’s answers, even when they’re not funny. Kyungsoo gets embarrassed at how much he smiles, even though smiling is probably the most normal reaction. But then Jongin starts pulling out the big guns. “Thing you’re most scared of?” Kyungsoo cringes. “Embarrassing myself in front of strangers?” Jongin’s head cocks to the side. “In what way?” “Just, like.” Kyungsoo feels his face heat up. “To the point of not wanting answer phone calls from unknown numbers because I might say something wrong or be awkward and feel embarrassed. I really hate that feeling.” Jongin nods sagely, and Kyungsoo feels it, that feeling that he hates. It’s not just in front of strangers. “Mine is really tight or crowded spaces,” Jongin says, in a way that says I can’t judge, except that his is much more valid than Kyungsoo’s, which is just stupid. “They make me kind of panic.” “Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, because he’d noticed. Jongin’s next question is even worse. He gets this nervous little grin on his face, and Kyungsoo’s stomach flips when he sees it in the LCD. “Your first impression of me?” Kyungsoo thinks he breaks out in a cold sweat. “Like when we first met in college, or—?” “Yeah, way back then. The Beginning Of It All.” Jongin looks kind of scared of the answer. Of course, the first words that come to mind are cute. Too cute. Completely adorable. That’s probably all he’d been thinking at the time. Sehun’s roommate was super attractive, with an attractive personality to boot. But Kyungsoo can’t say that. He would never say that. “You go first,” he says, trying to buy some time. “Oh. Okay. Uhhhh...you were quiet, and Sehun always called you hyung, like older brother, so I thought of you as like this cool upperclassman.” Kyungsoo smiles slightly. It’s much better than what he thinks he deserves. Jongin continues, though, and with every word Kyungsoo’s stomach drops a little more. “You were kind of aloof, though, so...I was very impressed that Sehun managed to get close to you.” Kyungsoo does his best not to let it show, how awful that makes him feel. He knows he’s the worst, but he doesn’t love being reminded of it by the people he’s been the worst to. “Sehun’s an old family friend. I had no choice,” he mutters. Jongin gives the camera a small smile, and Kyungsoo hates how forced and unconvinced it looks. “Anyway,” Jongin says. “What about you? Or do I not want to know?” His following grin is cheeky, but his words ring with sincerity. “I thought you were too good for Sehun,” Kyungsoo says, going for dry humour rather than the truth or a blatant lie. Jongin chuckles, surprised, as he shifts his grip on the camera. They’ve already taken turns holding it up to point at them, and now it’s in Jongin’s left hand. “We were roommates, not dating.” “The fact remains,” Kyungsoo says, and even though it’s obviously a joke, Jongin seems pleased. Kyungsoo manages a mostly-genuine smile in response. “Alright, last question. My arm’s killing me,” Jongin says. “Let me take a turn,” Kyungsoo murmurs, taking the camera carefully. Jongin flashes him a bright smile, and Kyungsoo immediately closes off in an instinctive response, jaw clenching and body angling away. Stupid. “Favourite animal?” he asks miserably. Jongin slaps his hands on his knees, and Kyungsoo jumps in surprise. “Pandas,” Jongin says loudly—too loudly for the quiet plane. “I freaking love pandas. They are so cute and round and precious. I’m a huge dog person, but pandas, man. Pandas get me.” He looks at Kyungsoo. “Do you think I’ll see one in China? They live there, right?” “I think they’re endangered,” Kyungsoo says with a quirk of his lips, hopelessly endeared. “Oh, right,” Jongin says, deflating. “So they’re probably really protected, right?” “Probably.” “Damn,” Jongin huffs. “Anyway, what about you?” Kyungsoo bites back a smile. “I was just going to say cats.” “That’s fitting,” Jongin says with a nod. “It’s very like you.” “Yeah?” Kyungsoo can’t help but ask. “They take a while to warm up to people,” Jongin says. Kyungsoo bites his lip, then gives a vague nod. Jongin grins, and Kyungsoo looks away, wondering if this guy could get any fucking cuter. He’d better not. “Anyway, that concludes Questions Time with Jongin and Kyungsoo. JongSoo. KyungIn? No, I like JongSoo better.” He looks at Kyungsoo, who pretends he’s not blushing and shrugs. “We’re about...seven hours into the flight now. Six to go! See you guys later!” Jongin turns off the camera and stows it away with a lingering smile. Kyungsoo sits back in his seat and turns away to stare out the window at the blindingly white clouds, praying that whoever watches this thing won’t be able to tell he still hasn’t gotten over a 5-year-old nightmare of a crush. Jongin is quiet and content for the following hour, and Kyungsoo begins to doze off until, out of nowhere, they hit turbulence and they all start jostling in their seats. Jongin does not like that. Neither does Kyungsoo—he starts feeling nauseous and miserable quickly—but Jongin gets sweaty and tense and jumpy, and after a few minutes he pulls something out of his carry-on. “Is that a Gameboy Color?” Kyungsoo asks incredulously. Jongin shoots him a wan smile. “Yeah. I got it for my 10th birthday.” “You still play it?” “In dire circumstances,” Jongin says. “Finals season. The night before a big interview. When I’m depressed or really upset or trying to get over something. Pokémon Yellow helps. I have a Blastoise I’m trying to level up.” Kyungsoo has to resist the urge to coo, because Jongin looks pale and shaky and his fingers press hard into the buttons as he navigates through the start menu. Finally, he just says, “Oh.” He berates himself for it afterwards—he knows things about Pokémon, he could tell Jongin that Squirtle was his favourite starter back in the day, that he was always too nervous to go into the Pokémon League, but he can’t—but regardless, it falls on deaf ears. Jongin focuses on his game, and Kyungsoo focuses on not throwing up as the plane continues to shake. Kyungsoo decides he hates international travel. One | Two | Three | Four | Five