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Chapter Text

Pschhh…  

Sehun twists off the top of his soda and takes several long gulps as he waits for the train to come. He doesn’t normally drink the stuff, but he’d been parched after work and the vending machine only had this or coffee. Soda is less likely to keep him up all night— especially since he has an early class tomorrow— so it was the obvious choice.

It’s nearing midnight now, the last train making its rounds before resting for the night. The station is practically empty, except for a businessman who looks like he’s had too much to drink and a couple quietly whispering to each other. The boy pulls the girl closer and she giggles loudly, startling Sehun. He takes a few steps away from them, pulling his earbuds out of his pocket and picking a song to drown them out.

Once the background noise has been properly silenced, Sehun returns to his mental grocery list. He has to pick up some food from the 24/7 convenience store by his apartment, as he’s quickly running out of consumable food. Midterms have had him forgoing shifts to study, so money is tight this month, but he still has to eat.

The lights flicker a bit and the girl from before yelps, hugging her boyfriend who looks equal parts terrified and pleased. The businessman is slumped against a pillar, undisturbed.

When the train arrives, however, the man straightens up, looking energized after his impromptu nap, and boards. Sehun follows his lead, making his way to a different carriage. The train is just as empty as the station had been and almost as quiet. Sehun briefly notes how the couple laugh with each other as they move to the next car, hands wandering well before they’ve disappeared.

Sehun passes the next few minutes reading the text on the soda over and over until his stop is announced and the doors slide open.

The walk to the convenience store is short, a dim sign displaying “OPEN” in the window. The bell rings softly as he enters and the young man at the counter looks up from his book, waving lazily when he recognizes Sehun from the neighborhood.

Fifteen thousand won is his budget, at least until he gets his next paycheck at the end of this week. Sehun loads up on snacks and drinks that will keep him just full enough; he can always eat the leftovers from work if he asks the head chef nicely enough. His total after all the items are scanned is only around 12,000 won, so he treats himself to a beer, too.

Once it’s all paid for and safely stored in his backpack, Sehun walks home. The road is quiet in a calming way, nothing but the breeze whistling in his ears. A few buildings still have lights shining through the windows, but they start to shut off as midnight passes. By the time Sehun reaches his apartment building, only dim streetlights are guiding him.

Living on one of the top floors sounds nice, initially. Sehun gets great views of the city lights and people seem to have a good impression of living higher up, as if it’s a literal sign of his status. But the truth is, the building he lives in isn’t some spic-and-span, brand new building. The paint is peeling, hallways musty, the elevator doesn’t work most days, and there’s no air-conditioner installed anywhere in the building. He unlocks his door with a physical lock and key, rather than one of those handy electronic number pads. Once, someone had broken in and stolen his microwave, but at least it had forced Sehun to learn how to use the stove.

He tends to save on heating, luckily. But during summer, he suffers until he can make it out of the apartment and to the campus library, where he lets his tuition dollars cool him down. A friend had come over to study once, despite Sehun’s protests, and had screamed when he saw a cockroach. Concerned, Junmyeon had asked if Sehun wanted to stay at his place until he could get an exterminator.

Sehun had laughed for about ten minutes. As if he could afford it. From then on, they strictly studied on-campus.

Sometimes, Sehun wonders if it’s even worth having an apartment when the only reason he comes back is to change and sleep. Maybe he should just move onto Junmyeon’s couch, as the elder had suggested so many times. But he’s also heard Junmyeon’s roommate snoring and knows he would never get a decent night’s sleep again.

Besides, there’s only one more semester of college. Once he has his degree done with, he can work full-time. Even if it’s not at the job of his dreams yet, he can work longer hours as a server at the restaurant until he can find something more fulfilling.

Or you could move back in with us , his mom’s voice rings in his ears.

Sehun shudders, unlocking his apartment door and stepping inside his home of the past three years. There’s no furniture in the living room, no TV. One of each utensil and dish in the kitchen and an old loaf of bread that he had stored in the freezer to keep it longer. His bed is a thin mattress on the ground and the blanket he had taken from his childhood bedroom. Staying here is better than going back to his nagging parents and elder brother.

Really, Sehun knows they mean the best, but it’s often overshadowed by their zealousness. Things always seem to work around their plans for him and their agendas, and never quite what he wants. Sehun, get married! Sehun, don’t choose a major in humanities! Sehun, become an engineer! Sehun, look at your brother, he’s doing so well .

And on and on.

It’s getting easier to ignore as he gets older, but it doesn’t mean the comments are any less infuriating. At least they serve as good motivation.

Sehun stores his food, ignoring the grumbling in his stomach. He has to be up early and eating will only make it harder to wake up, after all. He takes a quick shower before changing into a pair of sweats and sliding under his blanket. Really, he should try to get ahead on his work, but today has been so exhausting. Just for tonight, he’ll allow himself some rest.

Chapter Text

The next morning is a flurry of instant coffee, not enough clean clothes, and missed buses. Sehun manages to make it to campus minutes before his first class, sprinting to the lecture hall as soon as he gets off the bus (but not without shouting a “Thank you!” to the driver). He slides into his seat just as the professor finishes reviewing old material.

“Took you long enough,” Jongin complains jokingly while Sehun pulls out his notebook and pen. “I had to shoo about twenty girls away from your seat.”

Sehun snickers. “Sorry that I put you in that nightmare of a position. I’m sure you hated it.”

Jongin rolls his eyes playfully, nudging Sehun with his elbow. “Ungrateful. I save you a seat every day and this is the thanks I get?”

Really, it only makes sense that Jongin saves the seats. Unlike Sehun, he lives right next to campus in a shiny new building with a pool and gym and working utilities. It’s only five minutes to walk to campus, compared to Sehun’s nearly twenty minute bus ride. (He doesn’t even want to think about how long it would take him to walk . He’d already sprinted the distance once, in fear of missing an exam, and it had been a nightmare.) Not to mention that Jongin is close to all the best food and nightlife spots in the city. He lives a life of luxury in comparison.

“I’ll buy you a coffee,” Sehun promises. “Now please let me focus.”

Jongin, predictably, does not let Sehun focus. He looks through memes on his computer for most of the class, turning the screen when he finds a particularly funny one. He doodles on the corners of Sehun’s notebook and plays with Sehun’s idle left hand. Near the end of the hour, he leans on Sehun’s shoulder and dozes off, only snapping to attention when the professor calls on him. He has to peek over at Sehun’s notes to answer the question and then goes back to internet surfing.

“You could just pay attention,” Sehun grumbles when the class finishes and Jongin asks for his notes— though there’s no real heat behind it.

“But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to text you when I don’t understand something,” Jongin points out, grabbing Sehun’s arm as they walk out of the hall. He makes kissy noises that turn a few heads their way and Sehun blushes and drags him away.

They both have a few hours till their next class, so they grab some sustenance and head to the library. It’s still quite early in the morning, with most students not yet awake or in class, so the building is relatively empty. Their favorite spot on the fourth floor is blessedly vacant as well, lights flickering on as they walk into the study room.

As soon as the door snicks shut, Jongin drops his backpack on the floor and sprawls into a chair, legs spread as he sips his latte, courtesy of Sehun. “I’m so tired.”

Sehun snorts as he shrugs off his own bag, reaching inside for a book. When it becomes clear that Sehun is too focused, Jongin groans loudly and follows his lead. With the dim glow of the sun peeking through the window and steady buzz of the electric lights, they’re lulled into a comfortable silence broken only by the flutter of turning pages and the scratch of pens against notebooks.

“Sehun,” Jongin whines after only an hour. “Do we have to study right now?”

Before Sehun can respond and shut him down, he’s receiving a lapful of Jongin, straddled with Jongin’s arms thrown over his shoulders. He drops his pen and leans back in his seat as his books are shoved away until all he can see is Jongin.

“Just a quick break,” Jongin whispers, rolling his hips down and curling his fingers in the taller’s hair. He leans forward to brush his lips against Sehun’s. “One kiss.”

And while Sehun would like to pride himself on his self-control, he has little when it comes to this. He sighs like it’s a chore, even as he closes the gap, taking Jongin’s lips between his own, feeling the slick slide of their mouths against each other, getting filthier and filthier with each open-mouthed lick. Jongin returns the kisses with enthusiasm, ass grinding just above Sehun’s quickly-hardening cock and humming in encouragement when Sehun’s hands drift under his shirt.

“You want me to fuck you?” Sehun asks between kisses, thumbing at both of Jongin’s nipples, catching the metal of the barbells with each motion. They had been a pleasant surprise the first time he had discovered them, and it’s impossible to get enough of them when Jongin is so goddamn sensitive.

“Oh god,” Jongin sighs. “Can you? Will you? Please?”

Sehun is already pulling adjusting Jongin so he can pull the other man’s pants and underwear down, giving a quick, appreciative slap to his ass and squeezing the flesh. “It’s only been two days and you already need my cock again?”

They don’t have enough time— nor guarantee of privacy— to fuck, so Sehun ends up jerking Jongin off with the lube Jongin fortunately keeps in his bag. Jongin moans through it, begging for more in a soft, fucked out voice that does nothing to help the situation in Sehun’s pants. It takes but a twist of Sehun’s wrist for Jongin to cum, gripping Sehun’s shoulders as he rocks back on the singular finger pressed against his prostate.

Sehun seizes Jongin’s lips in a kiss to keep him from screaming or making other loud noises in the goddamn library , feeling Jongin sob with pleasure against his mouth, trembling as he kisses back. Sehun keeps kissing, lazily working his hands over Jongin, until he is shivering from the overstimulation. Only then does Sehun pull away to let him calm down, waiting a bit before asking, “Can you grab the wipes in my bag? My hands are dirty.”

Jongin laughs breathlessly, hands loosening their grip on Sehun’s shoulders, and he feels a tinge of soreness. Leaning as much as he can without having to stand, Jongin grabs Sehun’s backpack from under the desk and finds the package, pulling one out for Sehun. “Were you expecting this?”

“Wipes are always good to have on hand,” Sehun responds curtly, cleaning up while Jongin pulls his pants back up and retrieves his phone from his bag. There’s a soft ding from Sehun’s phone in return and Jongin smiles, packing up his things before pressing a kiss to Sehun’s cheek.

“If you’re free after your last class today, come by my apartment,” he says as he withdraws and makes his way out of the study room.

Only after Jongin has disappeared from sight does Sehun check his notifications. The little bubble from his banking app indicates that his account is no longer in the double-digits. The last direct deposit is entitled “From Daddy <3.” He rolls his eyes and sends Jongin a quick text.

S: Stop referring to yourself as Daddy.

The response is instantaneous.

J: Oh, do you want me to call you Daddy instead?

S: I’m not going to talk to you anymore.

J: Should I wear knee socks when you come over later?

J: What do you mean????? You’re talking to me right now???

S: I’m not coming.

J: You definitely won’t be with that attitude.

Sehun sighs. Surprisingly, his erection has not wilted after that exchange, but he doesn’t feel like taking care of it. It’s one thing to jack Jongin off in the library and get paid for it, another to do it for his own pleasure.

Jongin isn’t his boyfriend. In fact, Sehun isn’t quite sure what Jongin is to him. They had started off as nothing but acquaintances, peers. Jongin had been in one of his classes almost a year ago, adorably clueless and more than happy to let Sehun do their group assignments. Sehun hadn’t really thought much of it then, believing that Jongin was true to his character as a spoiled rich kid who would have a guaranteed job at their father’s company upon graduation.

But then, Jongin saw him.

Which, normally, wouldn’t be a problem. If the place he had seen Sehun wasn’t a male strip club. If he hadn’t seen Sehun grinding on the floor and thrusting and body-rolling and, of course, stripping , like his rent was due the next day (which, incidentally, it had been).

It hadn’t taken long for Jongin to corner him, and Sehun still isn’t quite sure how Jongin had convinced security to let him into the staff room.

“How much do you make here?” Jongin had asked. “I’ll pay you twice as much.”

Of course, Sehun had been taken aback— and a little insulted— at first. But the more he had thought about it, the more Jongin had laid out the details of what he had in mind, it didn’t seem so bad. Sehun knew he needed the money and it was more convenient than stripping. It would be like having a sugar daddy, but one who goes to class and studies with you.

And it ends up being a lot less weird than Sehun had anticipated. Because Jongin is pretty and adventurous and relaxed and practically sings when he comes. And when they start spending more time together, he becomes a fantastic friend. So it’s nice, and not weird.

And it’s worked out splendidly so far. Sehun studies with, eats with, and fucks around with Jongin. Jongin pays Sehun ridiculous amounts of money for his time, so that all the coffee Sehun buys feels like a drop in the ocean by comparison.

So, of course, even with his protests over text, Sehun still shows up to Jongin’s apartment that afternoon. Jongin is already waiting for him in an oversized t-shirt and knee socks and a victorious grin. They fuck until the pizza arrives, and then study until the sun is just starting to set.

“I gotta head out,” Sehun says, as 7pm comes and goes. “Restaurant shift at 8.”

Jongin groans from where he’s less studying, more watching Netflix on his phone as he rests on Sehun’s lap. “Do you have to go? I’ll literally pay you four times whatever they’re giving you and all you have to do is sit here and maybe stick your dick in my ass again.”

Sehun’s smile is bittersweet as he packs up his things while trying not to jostle Jongin too much. “As tempting as that sounds, I’d like to have a job to support myself after we both graduate and you leave my ass. And, unfortunately, job security is best kept by showing up on time.”

“How do you know I’ll leave you? I could keep you with me,” Jongin counters, sitting up to allow Sehun space to move. “I’ve even offered to have you stay here.”

He had, which seems to be a common trend with Sehun’s friends. The first time they had hooked up, Jongin had asked “Your place or mine?” and Sehun had to keep himself from laughing out loud. Jongin doesn’t know where exactly he lives, or the conditions of such a dwelling, but he knows it isn’t anything like his own cushy apartment. He had offered the spare bedroom many times, but Sehun is smart enough to know that proximity creates attachment and he’s already toeing the line by being such close friends with Jongin.

“Don’t say that unless you’re planning to put a ring on my finger,” Sehun jokes, nudging the elder’s shoulder as he stands, sliding his backpack onto his shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you finish your paper.”

Jongin groans again, but lets him go. “See you,” he mumbles, waving pitifully.

Sehun only chuckles as he leaves the apartment.

Chapter Text

“You’re so independent in every way,” Kyungsoo muses as he packs up extra stir fry in a to-go box and hands it over to Sehun. “But you still come to me for meals?”

“No one cooks like hyung,” Sehun declares with a wide smile as he accepts it and stores it next to three others in a bag. He had worked till closing today, which meant that leftovers went to him, with a little wheedling towards the head chef.

Kyungsoo gives him a rare smile, eyes crinkling as he pinches one of Sehun’s cheeks. “Don’t think you’ll get any more food out of me by doing that. Half of those aren’t even leftovers, but specially made for you. I don’t want to get fired for sneaking you food.”

“But you’re a co-owner hyung,” Sehun points out with a teasing smile as he leans over the counter. He watches as Kyungsoo quickly washes the dishes and puts them on a drying rack.

“When profits start plummeting, it doesn’t matter who the co-owner is,” Kyungsoo states sagely, untying his apron and hanging it up when the kitchen is neat and orderly again. “Though I suppose Chanyeol has a sweet spot for you, too. You didn’t hear from me, but he was thinking of giving you a position as manager.”

Sehun can’t help the excited grin that spreads across his face. Manager would be great, would mean more pay. He would have to work a little longer, but once he’s done with school, it could work out. “Don’t get me excited, hyung.”

Kyungsoo shrugs, grabbing his jacket and keys as he and Sehun make their way out of the kitchen. Most of the staff has already gone home, but the other owner, Chanyeol, is sitting by the bar with some documents. He looks up when Sehun and Kyungsoo walk out and packs up his papers. “It’s pretty much confirmed; We’re just waiting for you to graduate.”

“Ready to go?” Chanyeol asks as they approach, pressing a kiss to Kyungsoo’s cheek. He glances down at the bag in Sehun’s hand. “You’ve fed your child?”

Kyungsoo winces at the kiss, but accepts when Chanyeol slides his hand into his. “Yes, and we’re giving him a ride home, too.”

Chanyeol grins at that, showing off a million dollar smile as he starts to walk out the back of the building. Sehun trails behind them. “At this rate, people are going to think his promotions are because of nepotism.”

“We’re just a restaurant, not a Fortune 500 company,” Kyungsoo snorts while Chanyeol locks up and leads them to the car parked out back. “And the poor kid doesn’t have any other way to get home. I even get worried when he takes the train… you never know who could be at the station at this hour.”

Chanyeol turns to give Sehun a teasing grin even while addressing Kyungsoo. “You’re right, we can’t lose out on our most hardworking employee.”

Sehun returns it with a laugh. “I appreciate the thoughtfulness, hyung.”

The ride to his apartment is filled with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s loving bickering and Sehun listening to them in amusement. Once they’ve arrived, they wish him a good night which Sehun returns, as well as thanks for the food. It’s another day that the elevator is not working, so he trudges up ten flights of stairs, approaching his door huffing and panting more than usual after the exhausting shift. The food goes in the fridge and Sehun showers to get the smell of grease and smoke out of his hair before he collapses in bed. He spends some time reading until his eyelids begin to feel droopy, but is promptly jolted awake by the ringing of his phone. The caller ID shows Jongin’s name and face.

“It’s almost 3am,” Sehun greets, staring up at his ceiling. The lights of the city cast the barest of shadows on the walls.

“I know, I know,” Jongin’s voice is low. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t fall asleep. Can you meet up? I’ll pay you double.”

The timing really isn’t the problem; Sehun doesn’t have early classes tomorrow. The issue is that the only way Sehun is possibly going anywhere this late at night is by foot, and he knows Jongin won’t want to wait upwards of half an hour for him to show up. He relays as much to Jongin.

“I can come pick you up,” he offers quickly. “Just text me an address.”

Sehun ends up sending him the location of the convenience store near his apartment and Jongin says he’ll be there in fifteen. It’s just enough time for Sehun to tug on a sweater and shoes and jog down the stairs to the store. He spots Jongin’s sleek car rounding the corner and waves him down. Jongin parks and steps out wearing a fluffy sweater and sweatpants, nodding towards the conbini. “Let’s grab some snacks before we go.”

It’s deathly quiet in the store, so much so that the part-timer startles when the bell dings, announcing their entrance. Sehun apologizes, while Jongin grabs a basket and starts filling it with snacks. They’re near the softly humming fridges, deciding between drinks, when the light above them hums and flickers. Sehun turns to see if Jongin noticed, but the other man is still staring at the drinks, face blank and eyes tired and red.

Jongin pays for everything, thanking the worker as they leave. He moves towards the driver’s seat, but Sehun takes the keys from his hands. “I’ll drive.”

Sehun’s suspicions are confirmed when Jongin hands the keys over with no fuss and slides into the passenger seat instead, clutching their purchases between his thighs.

“Your parents?”

Jongin sighs heavily as he buckles in and immediately slouches into the seat. “They’re right about everything, which is the most frustrating part. Can you drive up to the usual spot?”

It’s a park, located in a nice neighborhood at a high enough altitude that it offers a nice view of the city. There’s no playground, but there is a bunch of exercise equipment, which means that no one will be there at this time of night. It’s also just late enough that the usual patrolling security probably won’t disturb them.

Sehun handles the vehicle smoothly while Jongin sets the music— low, sultry songs for their late night drive. He queues up a few more, eyes glued to his phone screen. When Sehun glances over, he finds Jongin’s face bathed in the bluish light, lips pushed out into a plush pout of concentration. His thumbs are flying across the screen, so he must be texting someone now, and it doesn’t seem like a relaxing conversation.

Just as they pull into the parking lot, Jongin tosses his phone aside and puts the bag on the floor of the car. He unbuckles himself and fully reclines the seat as Sehun adjusts his parking and turns off the engine.

Once the car is off, it doesn’t take long for Jongin to undo Sehun’s own seatbelt and bring him into a searing kiss. Sehun can feel Jongin’s frustrations pour from his eager lips and allows himself to be a sponge for Jongin’s raging emotions, as his role dictates.

Predictably, they end up in the backseat, nearly naked, music still thumping to the pace of Sehun fucking into an already prepared Jongin while his hands ghost over brown nipples embellished with metal barbells. They don’t talk except for Jongin’s grunts and whines when Sehun’s hips drive into him and Sehun’s heavy breathing and groaning. Sehun cums into the condom first, nearly choking when Jongin purposefully clenches around him. In retaliation, he wraps a hand around Jongin to bring him to his own release, watching the other man’s spine arch against the leather seats when his cum splatters against his stomach.

“Wipes in the bag,” Jongin mumbles, once he’s come down from his high, splayed lazily over the backseat.

Sehun crawls into the front seat, careful of his head, and finds the small package buried under a bag of gummies, “Learning quickly about the benefits of having wipes on hand, hm?”

Jongin laughs out loud at that; Sehun can’t tell if his stomach is shaking because of the giggles, or the chill of the wet wipe as Sehun cleans. “I saw them while you were picking out chips and thought they’d be useful.”

Once Sehun’s cleaned them up and they are mostly clothed, Jongin pulls up Netflix on his phone and props it on the center console, making sure the bluetooth audio is connected. He brings the snacks to the backseat where they’re both lounging and leans against Sehun as they settle in. It’s almost like a drive-in movie, with the exception of a smaller screen and the city lights twinkling through the windshield.

Halfway through the movie that neither of them are really paying attention to, Jongin looks up at Sehun. “I wish I was more like you.”

Sehun has to stifle an incredulous laugh as he looks down into Jongin’s pretty, hooded eyes. “No you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” Jongin insists, sighing as he throws his head onto Sehun’s lap (narrowly avoiding his dick), staring up at the roof of the car. “You’re actually motivated to do shit. And you have enough courage to tell your parents to leave you alone. I’m still terrified that the second I say something, they’ll cut me off.”

“Because you’re spoiled and used to having whatever you want,” Sehun teases, booping Jongin’s nose, which wrinkles in protest. He traces over Jongin’s lips as he continues contemplatively, “If it helps, sometimes I wish I had stayed under my parents’ wing. Shit wouldn’t be so hard right now, financially. Independence is nice, but it’s a fucking struggle.”

“I just can’t figure out why I’m so scared of being an adult,” Jongin huffs, something in his voice changing as he throws a hand over his eyes. “When I was younger, it was all I could think of. Now that I’m on the cusp of adulthood… I’m fucking scared. I don’t think I’m cut out for a 9 to 5 type of life, or settling down, or following whatever standard society has deemed proper for me. I don’t even know what a mortgage is.”

“I don’t think anyone is ready,” Sehun muses, pulling the hand away. Jongin’s eyes remain closed, but there’s a glint of wetness around his lash line. “No one knows what they’re doing. We’re just animals. Our instincts are food, water, shelter, and fucking. At least you’ve got those down.” Sehun holds up the bag of snacks— now a trash bag for their wipes and empty wrappers and containers— for emphasis.

Jongin snorts at that, turning his face into Sehun’s stomach. “Then why do I still feel so empty? Why does it feel like I’m never doing enough?”

“Capitalism,” Sehun shrugs, absently running his fingers through Jongin’s hair. It’s always so soft, the strands like silk. He makes a note to ask Jongin what hair products he uses, then realizes they’re probably too expensive for him to afford anyway. “I don’t know, Jongin. You’re doing your best, aren’t you? Isn’t that what matters?”

“Am I doing my best?” Jongin asks, and this time Sehun can hear him choke on the words. “Because that’s not what I’m hearing from my family. Even you tell me that I should pay more attention in class and study harder, but I just don’t. I know I should. But I don’t. Is there something wrong with me?”

“Maybe a lack of passion?” Sehun offers. “What do you find yourself enjoying the most?”

Jongin’s face peeks up at him, damp eyes finally open. “Hanging out with you.”

Sehun snickers at that, ruffling Jongin’s hair. “Glad to know I have some job security here, however temporary this is. But actually.”

“I’m serious,” Jongin protests as he scrambles to sit up, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. “I like being around you. Can I turn that into a job? Do you need a househusband?”

Jongin likes to do this sometimes. Convince Sehun that they should just get together. It’s all fun and games, if the way Jongin’s playful smirk grows is any indication. Normally, Sehun would joke along with him, but he’s more worried than anything right now.

“Jongin, seriously.” Firm, but kind, because that’s exactly what Jongin needs.

The other man sighs in defeat, pitching his head forward to land on Sehun’s shoulder. He’s silent for a few seconds, but then says, “I guess I like my visual arts classes… and I’ve always liked dancing.”

“So pursue something along that line,” Sehun suggests, a hand coming up to caress Jongin’s waist encouragingly. “You’re lucky to have monetary support right now to freely explore your options. And if it doesn’t work out, you’ll still have your economics degree to fall back on.”

“I’ll try,” Jongin mumbles into Sehun’s shoulder. “But if nothing else works out, you’re marrying me out of convenience, yeah?”

Sehun snorts. “How is that convenient for me?” Besides the money, of course, but Sehun is trying not to be selfish right now.

Jongin pulls his face out of Sehun’s shoulder to give him a salacious grin. “Where else are you gonna find a piece of ass like mine?”

“Oh my god,” Sehun groans, dumping Jongin off his lap, causing the other to yelp when he falls into the other seat. Sehun takes the chance to crawl back into the driver’s seat. “We are not going another round. It’s almost sunrise and I would like to get a little sleep before class.”

An affronted Jongin peeps up in the rearview mirror, glaring at Sehun as the engine purrs to life. Still, he makes his way into the passenger seat, not forgetting to grab their bag of trash as he readjusts the seat and fastens himself in place. “Okay, well at least stay the night at my place. You can sleep in a little longer.”

“You just don’t want to drive yourself home,” Sehun points out, even as he backs out of the parking spot and makes his way to Jongin’s apartment. “And maybe touch my dick while you’re at it.”

Jongin gasps, “How dare you, Sehun! I care more about your sleep than my dick-touching agenda!”

To Jongin’s credit, he does actually let Sehun sleep when they get to his apartment. But when Sehun wakes up, Jongin wheedles him into a round of sex that has him scrambling to get to class in time, anyway.

Chapter Text

Smoking is an expensive and useless activity, Sehun reminds himself, even as he slides his card across the counter. He doesn’t indulge often, but this week has been particularly hellish, between the quick approach of midterms, grueling hours at the restaurant, and little-to-no time spent with Jongin outside of classes.

As soon as he’s in the privacy of his apartment, Sehun ruffles through a drawer for his lighter, sparking up the first cigarette in the middle of his kitchen and taking a deep, satisfying inhale. When he exhales, it’s in a cloud of wispy, white smoke. The sweet sensation of nicotine rolling through his system is enough to have his shoulders visibly relaxing. He continues standing there, leaning against his counter, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, until he’s finished it off. Then, after a good few seconds of debating, he lights up another and holds it between his lips as he searches for a book so he can start reviewing for his Anthropology class.

In the middle of his reading about supermodernity, Sehun’s phone buzzes across the counter in a familiar ringtone.

“Yes, hyung?” he answers, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and allowing the ashes to fall into the sink.

“I know you said you wouldn’t be able to make it today because you have to study, but Yeri just called and she’s too sick to come in,” Chanyeol sighs. The sounds of shouting and something crashing erupt on his side of the phone. “Kyungsoo is keeping calm, but he’ll snap during the dinner rush by the way things are going. Do you think you can come for just a few hours? You don’t have to stay till closing and I’ll tack on a nice little bonus.”

There’s another loud crash that has Sehun wincing. He looks down at his textbook as he weighs his options. This midterm is next week and if he misses out on tonight’s studying, it’ll set him back at least five chapters, meaning five less chapters he’ll know for the exam. But helping out Kyungsoo and Chanyeol is about loyalty to his friends… and the potential for a little extra cash.

“What time to what time?” he asks, between drags to ease the little bit of anxiety building up in his chest, as he closes the book with a final, wistful glance at the pages.

Chanyeol releases a grateful exhale. “As soon as you can get here to eleven, maximum. Thank you, Sehun.”

“Anything for Kyungsoo hyung,” Sehun teases. “But you owe me.”

“You little shit,” but the tone is affectionate. “I’ll see you soon.”

It only takes Sehun twenty minutes to get to the restaurant, going around the back to enter. He’s greeted to a chaotic kitchen: a few other servers running in and out with orders and plates, the dishboys overwhelmed by the sudden stack of dishes, cooks yelling as they make their way around each other. Kyungsoo’s wide eyes take in every detail as he multitasks between cooking, tasting, commanding, and explaining. When he sees Sehun enter, his entire body visibly relaxes.

“Wash your hands and get an apron on,” he yells over the cacophony. “Minhyung and Jisung were handling section A, but they’re falling behind on other tables.”

Sehun nods once, following Kyungsoo’s instructions. He catches the other servers and takes over for them smoothly, introducing himself to each table with a practiced smile. He makes a mental note of any requests in a way only someone who had been working here as long as he could, and delivers on them with efficiency. The other workers fall back into some semblance of order with him around, and the workflow smooths out to the point where Sehun can comfortably make conversation with guests.

Though, he still has to stifle his irritation at the customers who mistake his politeness for an invitation to touch him. A girl who seems to have had one too many shots of soju brushes her hand against his every time she talks, even grabbing him at one point with blushing cheeks and garbled words about how handsome he is. Sehun disengages her and thanks her for the compliment, but reminds her that he’s working. Her blush only deepens and Sehun spends the rest of the night finding any excuse to avoid that table.

Luckily, someone’s boomer dad complains that his meat is overdone. Sehun has to refrain from patiently explaining that if he ordered it well-done, it would be well-done , and goes to fetch him another order instead. He takes a second to drop the bill off to the girl’s table, wishing them a good night and refusing to go back until after they’ve paid and left.

He’s fortunate enough that the annoying moments are balanced out that night by relatively well-behaved tables and the thought of the extra cash he could earn from tonight’s shift. Sehun muscles through the last hour by glancing at the clock in the kitchen and counting down the minutes until 11pm. By then, the restaurant is starting to clear out a bit and there are more than enough employees to take care of the slow bustle.

Sehun passes by the kitchen on his way out and Kyungsoo gives him a thankful smile and waves a little bag. When Sehun approaches to take care of it, Kyungsoo says, “A little good night and thank you gift.”

Sehun sniffs it and feels his heart swell when he recognizes the scent of fried chicken. “You didn’t have to, hyung.”

“Nonsense,” Kyungsoo grins, pinching one of Sehun’s cheeks. “It’s the least we can do since you agreed to help without payment. Chanyeol was so grateful.”

Sehun’s grip unconsciously tightens around the bag, but he doesn’t let his expression falter. “Yeah, of course, hyung.”

Once Kyungsoo has gone back to managing his kitchen, Sehun doesn’t leave through the backdoor, beelining to Chanyeol’s office down the hallway. As he nears, he catches sight of Chanyeol at his desk, perusing papers with a strained expression, and knocks on the open door. Chanyeol startles but then gives Sehun a smile when he sees him. Sehun keeps his face neutral.

“Sehun! Hey, thanks so much for coming by on such short notice. I already made a note to add today’s hours to your paycheck for this week.”

Sehun’s face remains stony. “Why does Kyungsoo think I did tonight’s shift for free?”

Immediately, the color drains from Chanyeol’s face. He looks behind Sehun and then motions him to come in and close the door. “Listen, I want you to know that I would never stiff you out of money you earned. You absolutely will be paid for tonight. It’s just…” Chanyeol takes a second to collect his words, looking anywhere but at Sehun. “I’m telling you this because I trust you, Sehun-ah. But… finances aren’t looking great right now. Kyungsoo kind of knows about it, but not the extent. He didn’t want me to bring anyone in tonight if we couldn’t afford to pay them. He claimed that he could handle it on his own. But I told you I could see how close he was to breaking, so I told him that you volunteered to help. And with your help, I’m sure we earned enough tonight to be able to pay you. I just didn’t want Kyungsoo to worry too much. I’m sorry if I got you worried about the money.”

Sehun feels the bag of food crumple between his fingers and thinks about how Kyungsoo hyung smiled at him fondly when handing it over. “That’s not the main issue; you shouldn’t lie to Kyungsoo hyung. If there are financial troubles, you need to be upfront and honest. He’s your boyfriend and your business partner. You can’t keep him out of this.

“As for tonight, you… you don’t have to pay me. This meal, and all the others thus far, have been enough. Just please talk to him honestly.”

Chanyeol’s wide eyes get wider. “Sehun, I can’t do that… you deserve—”

Jongin’s face flashes behind his eyes briefly. “I have another job on the side,” Sehun cuts in. “I’ll be okay.”

His boss seems conflicted, but eventually nods. “Okay. But if you need the money, you ask for it, you hear? You’re practically family to us.”

Sehun gives him a bittersweet smile. “I know, hyung.”

On his way out, Chanyeol peeps around the doorway and calls out for Kyungsoo— now cleaning up as they prepare for closing— and they disappear into his office. Sehun watches the door shut before waving goodbye to the rest of the staff and heading out the back door. He digs around in his coat pocket for the loose cigarette and lighter he had stowed away for the journey home and sparks it up. It’s not exactly legal, but this area isn’t near a main road, so he can definitely finish one off before heading to the train station.

Turning into an alley, he slouches against the wall and enjoys himself. Speaking to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had been a little nerve-wracking, not to mention hearing about the financial situation. If things didn’t get better, Sehun could potentially lose his source of long-term income. Jongin wouldn’t be around forever to help pay bills. He would graduate and get a job at his dad’s company, or get sent abroad to manage an international branch. Probably get married to a shareholder’s daughter. Have an upscale home in Gangnam. Get a dog and two kids. Forget about Sehun’s dick and— as an extension— Sehun himself.

Sehun’s brows furrow, lips twisting as his eyes water from the smoke. Huh. That’s new. He takes another puff, but nearly chokes on it because he inhales weirdly. An uncomfortable heat prickles at the back of his throat. Staring at the cigarette as if it had personally offended him, Sehun tosses it to the ground and crushes it under his heel. Waste of money, but his persistent coughing says it’s probably for the best.

It doesn’t solve the problem of the itch, though. The itch of uncomfortable talks with your boss-cum-friend and his significant other. The itch of financial instability because the job you planned on working for the next few years might not exist. The itch of wondering if it all really was worth it. If he would have to face his parents after graduation and beg them for money or a place to stay, until he can figure shit out.

For the first time, Sehun reaches out to Jongin first.

It takes twenty minutes for Jongin’s car to appear around the corner of the alleyway. Only twenty seconds for Sehun to step inside and pull Jongin into a fiery kiss.

When they separate, Jongin’s pouty lips are slick with their saliva, bitten red, as his eyes droop into a dangerous smoulder. “So, my place?”

Jongin drives a little haphazardly, both because of his excitement and because Sehun has a hand on his thigh that will not stay still. He pulls into his spot in the parking garage with a moan and jolt of the brakes as Sehun’s hand grazes over his erection. Within seconds, they’re in an empty elevator, Jongin’s back pressed up against the mirror, legs wrapped around Sehun’s waist, and sobbing at the slow grinding of Sehun’s hips into his.

“Y-you’re so… excited today,” Jongin huffs out between stimuli. “Any special re— ah!— reason?”

“Been too long,” Sehun grits out. “Thought you might have forgotten about me… gotten yourself a new boy toy.”

Jongin bursts out laughing at that, warm and unguarded. As his giggles dissolve, he manages to pull Sehun into a slow kiss. Their lips slide languidly over each other’s, tongues dip into each other’s mouths, hands tangling in the hair at the nape of their necks. When they pull apart, Jongin’s honey eyes look at him with so much fondness that Sehun forgets where he is, what he’s doing. He can only think about how he might drown in those eyes if he doesn’t look away, but it’s hard to when they crinkle playfully and Jongin says, “You’re the only one I need and the only one I can afford. You think money grows on trees?”

“No, but the way you drop cash makes me think you do,” Sehun teases back, just as the elevator dings for Jongin’s floor. He sets Jongin down as they take the short walk to his door, Jongin unlocking it and pulling Sehun inside to continue their makeout.

“On the subject of money, do I still have to pay you for this, even though you requested it?” Jongin ponders, pointer finger tapping on his chin. “I feel like this should be a freebie, no?”

A weird chill goes down Sehun’s spine. “No more talk of free work tonight,” he sighs, eyes closing and hands retracting from Jongin’s body. At Jongin’s questioning silence, he relays what had happened not an hour ago at the restaurant.

“I’m honestly worried. I mean, I want to be confident that things will get better, but I don’t know the extent of the problem. I don’t want to end up unemployed and broke— or, more broke, I guess.”

“It’s a valid concern,” Jongin comforts, a hand on Sehun’s shoulder. “And you know you can come to me, right? I can help you out, as long as you need. Even without the sex. Like, if you really need it, I’m here for you.”

Sehun doesn’t mention that Jongin would probably be unavailable after college, considering his family background. “Thanks, Jongin. I’ll keep it in mind, but I do want to find something else in the meantime.”

“Of course, of course. And I have no doubt that you will,” Jongin declares. His hand drifts to trace patterns on Sehun’s chest, dragging the material of his shirt around in little waves. “Just…  the option is here, okay? For you and me.”

There’s something off about that statement, but it flies out of Sehun’s mind the second one of Jongin’s fingers locates a nipple and teases it. He watches Jongin’s face as he concentrates on how it stiffens beneath the fabric, lips slightly parted, eyes hooded as he peeks up at Sehun through his lashes. “Consider it?”

Chapter Text

Somehow, Sehun wakes up early enough that morning to drag them both to a class they almost forgot they had, on account of Jongin’s mouth around Sehun’s dick, first thing in the morning. It’s only after a shuddering orgasm has passed through his body that Sehun looks at the digital alarm clock by Jongin’s bed and starts rushing them out of the apartment. Jongin complains about not getting an orgasm in return the entire way there, and then a little bit more between lecture slides.

“I still can’t believe you couldn’t at least give me a handjob.”

“Can anyone explain the main question of last night’s readings?”

Sehun ignores Jongin, raising his hand to state, “Auge questions if the shift to so-called ‘supermodernity’ has redefined how we create and use places. He points out that places are created and made significant by their function, rather than for their meaning, or the human interactions that take place within them.”

“Good description, Sehun. As Mr. Oh mentioned, many places in today’s world are significant because of their specific need and not because people have an emotional connection to them. Auge and Appadurai refer to these as non-places, or transitory spaces. There is little human-to-human interaction within them, as they are designed with function in mind. Now can anyone give me an example of such non-places?”

Someone else raises their hand and, when the professor's attention returns to them, Jongin nudges Sehun in the ribs. “Really? Ignoring me by being a teacher's pet?”

“At least my participation grade is secured,” Sehun shrugs, extending one arm over the back of Jongin’s seat, ruffling his hair as he goes. “Let me know if you want to sound smart, I’ll let you look at my notes.”

“I am napping through the rest of this class and you’re covering me as retribution for this morning,” Jongin declares, bunching up his sweatshirt on his desk to use as a pillow. They’re far enough back in the lecture hall that the professor probably won’t see him, so he might as well get comfortable.

“I’m pretty sure this is gonna be on the midterm,” Sehun sing-songs, a little annoying on purpose.

Jongin turns his head ever-so-slightly to glare up at Sehun from the desk. “Then please take good notes for both of us.”

Sehun snorts, but flips his pen between his fingers a few times and goes back to taking notes. Jongin snoozes peacefully through the rest of the lecture, secure in the knowledge that Sehun will teach him whatever he needs to know. He awakens bright and more alert and ready to follow Sehun to the library for the next hour or so, until he has his next class. Somehow, they actually manage to get some studying done. Sehun suspects it’s because he wore Jongin out last night and grins to himself with something akin to pride.

Just as Jongin is packing up his bag to leave the study room, he catches Sehun’s attention.

“Can we meet up to study for the shit we covered in class today?” he asks. “When do you have time this week?”

“All my time is yours if you’re paying for it,” Sehun jokes, typing the last few words for his sentence before swiveling to face the other man. “But if it’s strictly for studying, then I have a free evening on Thursday.”

“I don’t even pay you based on time; I pay you depending on how well you get me off,” Jongin points out as he throws the bag over one shoulder. “Quality over quantity, or whatever. Anyway, Thursday evening won’t work; I have dinner with a friend that night. Can we do Friday?”

Sehun catches one of Jongin’s zippers still open and reaches out helpfully to fix it. “I have a shift at the restaurant till closing, but if you’re up to meet after and study at night, I’m okay with that.”

Draping himself over Sehun’s shoulders in an almost-hug, Jongin nods. “Okay, I’ll just come there for dinner and then we can head back to my place to study together?”

“See you then,” Sehun sing-songs as he feels Jongin’s weight lift off his shoulders. Jongin echoes the sentiment back to him before disappearing around a corner.

Just as he’s turning back to his study guide, ready to take advantage of the rest of his free day and grind out the next few chapters, Sehun hears loud footfalls approaching and a panting Jongin is sliding back into his previously occupied seat.

“I forgot to ask,” he begins by way of explanation. “You remember the convo we had in my car that one night when I was upset right? When we were trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me?”

Sehun raises an eyebrow in amusement. “I would word it differently, but yeah, I think I know which night you’re talking about.”

“You remember you told me to pursue something I like, right?” Jongin presses, leaning forward eagerly in his seat. When Sehun nods in careful confirmation, a grin spreads across Jongin’s face. “Well, I did! I got in touch with a dance team on campus! They aren’t holding tryouts right now, but said I should record me dancing to one of their routines and send it to them so they can get a sense of my experience and keep me in mind.”

Sehun feels his own heart swell at Jongin’s excitement. He reaches out to ruffle Jongin’s hair as he says, “That’s great to hear, Jongin! When are you planning to record it?”

Suddenly, Jongin’s plush bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he looks up at Sehun with bedroom eyes and a cock of his head. He leans in close and breathily whispers, “Actually, I was thinking I could dance for you after we study on Friday? You could help me record… and give me some pointers. I seem to recall you having a background in dancing, hm?”

Sehun can feel the flush traveling up his neck as he looks down into Jongin’s gleaming eyes. There’s nothing innocent about the look on that face, so when Sehun hums his confirmation, the adorable sound that escapes Jongin is jarring. The dark, tempting look is immediately replaced by genuine, child-like excitement.

“You’re actually the best,” Jongin gushes, rising to finally go to class. “Friday night for dinner, studying, and dancing, then.”

“See you then,” Sehun chokes out once he’s gotten over the abrupt change in behavior. And then startled promptly back into silence when Jongin presses a kiss to his cheek.

When he looks up to Jongin in bewilderment, Jongin smiles softly for a second before giggling devilishly. “You were blushing and I wanted to see it get worse.”

And then he’s bounding away, disappearing around the corner before Sehun can yell at him. It works because it takes Sehun a second to realize that Jongin is gone. A distant part of his brain reminds him that he should be working, so he turns back to his computer, but none of the words on the screen make any sense. All he can think about is the tingling in his cheek from where Jongin’s full lips had pressed into them.

He chuckles to himself in disbelief. Jongin really is ridiculous, sometimes. His mind keeps replaying the moment and, soon, his cheeks start hurting from how hard he’s trying not to smile. The ridiculous moment distracts him for a good minute, before he shakes himself out of it enough to refocus on his paper. But even as he types the final sentence of his conclusion, he can’t stop hearing Jongin’s laughter in his head.

Chapter Text

The sound of laughter from the bar seating area catches Sehun’s attention in the middle of his shift. He finishes attending to the table he is at before heading over. Jongin is sitting on the edge of one of the barstools, fully leaning over the counter as he talks animatedly with the bartender. Minseok mixes drinks with a practiced ease as he entertains Jongin’s conversation.

“Ah, looks like he found you,” Minseok comments when he spots Sehun approaching.

Jongin immediately spins around in his seat, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes. He doesn’t say anything until Sehun is standing right next to him and taking a sip of his drink.

“Hey!”

“You’re not supposed to drink on the job,” Minseok reminds helpfully as he himself takes a shot of top-shelf vodka.

Sehun ignores both of their protests, licking remnants of the drink from his lips. “That’s good. Did you eat?”

“It’s mostly juice, and not yet,” Jongin says, once he’s snatched his glass back. “I was going to ask if we should get takeaway and eat while we study.”

Sehun nods, “That’s fine, but you should eat something while you’re here. You want some chicken wings? I can ask Kyungsoo hyung.”

After Sehun promises to bring the bill to Jongin, rather than wheedle free food out of the chef, he heads back to the kitchen. They’re just starting to close up, but there are some lingering tables, so Sehun spends the last hour cleaning as much as he can and attending to customers until the last few trickle out. In between, he drops off some appetizers to Jongin. Each time he approaches, him and Minseok pause their deep conversation to glance up at him. Jongin gives him a thankful look when he sets down a plate and Minseok’s eyes dart between them, a curious smile on his lips.

Eventually, the tables start clearing up. Sehun collects the bill from his last table, bidding them a good night, and heading back to the kitchen when he spots Jongin leaning against the wall next to the double swinging doors. His arms are crossed, his coat draped over them as he looks at Sehun with an indecipherable expression.

“Almost done,” Sehun promises, taking a quick glance at his watch. It’s half an hour till midnight, but the beauty of studying on a Friday is the flexibility of one’s bedtime. “Just need to take care of this and grab our food from hyung.”

“Hm,” Jongin responds, still staring at Sehun thoughtfully. “I can go warm up the car for us.”

He pushes himself off the wall, passing Sehun to head out the front doors, but then stops and backtracks. When Jongin is standing in front of Sehun again, they’re closer, close enough that Jongin can lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. “See you in a bit.” And then he walks out, leaving Sehun to take care of his business and join him ten minutes later in a blessedly heated car.

Jongin kisses him again once he’s settled in, this time on the lips. “Do you need anything from your place?”

“Just a toothbrush and some clothes,” Sehun mumbles against Jongin’s lips. “Also, I have a load of laundry that needs to be done.”

Jongin chuckles. Sehun has been using his in-unit washer for as long as they’re arrangement has gone on. At first, Sehun had snuck in a few clothes at a time and mixed them with Jongin’s, but once Jongin had caught on, he started just bringing his entire hamper over. It had saved him a decent amount of money, but now he just does it because it’s more convenient than lugging his hamper to the 24/7 laundromat and having to sit there to make sure no one steals his clothes.

Luckily, Sehun’s place is on the way. Instead of requesting him to park by the conbini, Sehun allows Jongin to drive up to the actual entrance of his building.

“You can just wait here and I’ll be back,” Sehun says, pulling on his jacket before opening the door. “Give me two minutes.”

“You’re not gonna invite me in?” Jongin teases, eyeing the decrepit building before him. “I feel like you know my place like the back of your hand; I didn’t even know you lived in this neighborhood.”

“Your pretty face couldn’t handle it,” Sehun teases right back, one foot out the door. “But if you really want to see…”

It doesn’t take much more for Jongin to throw the car into park and turn off the engine. By some miracle, the elevator is working today, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t smell like piss. Sehun glances over at Jongin a few times throughout the ride and the short walk down the hallway, but he only seems excited, despite the condition of the building. He watches Sehun unlock the door with his key and swing open the creaky door.

“Home sweet home,” Sehun states, without much enthusiasm. He watches Jongin step inside, take in the bare furnishings, peeling paint, scuffed floors, grime that won’t disappear no matter how much Sehun scrubs at it, cigarette butts in the sink from the last time Sehun had smoked, and a bed that’s really just a glorified mattress.

“Are you regretting coming up here, yet?” Sehun asks— not nervously— while Jongin wanders around. He spots his bag on the floor, covered by a sweatshirt, and picks up both. Concealed behind his toiletries and cleaning supplies in the bathroom cupboard is his laptop locked up tightly in a safe— the two precious things he had splurged on, for education’s and safety’s sake, respectively. He retrieves the computer and turns to Jongin who almost looks mad at him. “What?”

“It’s not what I’m used to, but that doesn’t mean I’ll make fun of it or of you, Sehun. It’s the place you live and you’re doing what you can. Why would I try to make you feel bad about that?”

Sehun laughs at that— again, not nervously. “No… yeah… no… I wasn’t trying to say that. It’s just that it really is terrible.”

Jongin hums noncommittally, now looking out the window. “You have a nice view, huh?”

An expert change in topic, one that Sehun appreciates greatly. He follows Jongin’s gaze out the busted windows and catches the city lights twinkling in the distance. “Yeah, that is nice.” It suddenly seems like a pity that Sehun does not appreciate this view more often. He’s usually so exhausted by the time he gets back home that he just showers and collapses into bed. The few times he has looked out the window, his eyes catch the split wood of the frame, too. And then all he can think about is if the landlord would ever get the maintenance crew to come in and fix it.

“We should hang out here, too,” Jongin comments, eyes still taking in the Seoul skyline. “It feels a lot more peaceful out here.”

Sehun chuckles, “You say that because it’s not daytime and you haven’t had to deal with no air con.” He catches Jongin’s expression and quickly adds, “But if you really want to, we can.”

Jongin tears his gaze away from the view. “I do. In fact, why don’t we just study here tonight?”

“Absolutely not,” Sehun declares, pointing at a pop-up hamper in the corner of his room. “I’ve been waiting to do my laundry at your place so I don’t have to spend money. We are going to your place tonight; you can stay here another time.”

Jongin follows the line of his index finger and bursts into laughter. “Okay, okay. My place tonight.”

They toss Sehun’s things in Jongin’s car and argue for entirely too long about who should drive. Eventually, Jongin wrestles the key from Sehun’s grip and forces him into the passenger seat. Sehun pouts about it, but is glad for the chance to rest once he’s seated. He dozes off, despite Jongin’s somewhat haphazard driving, and wakes up when he hears the engine turn off.

The elevator takes them up several floors, soft jazz music drifting through the speakers. Sehun catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, only to realize how dead he looks: dark circles under his eyes, hair mussed, back hunched. He is truly the embodiment of an overworked college student.

So, it’s no surprise that once they get into Jongin’s apartment and get Sehun’s laundry going, they only get through ten minutes of studying before Jongin shuts his book decisively. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“Am not,” Sehun protests, not sleepily.

“I asked you the same question three times and you didn’t respond once,” Jongin huffs, standing up from his seat on the floor. “Let’s take a break. I’ll make us coffee.”

After one cup of black coffee for Sehun and one drip of coffee in a mug of milk for Jongin (“It’s a latte,” he insists), Sehun isn’t sleepy anymore, but he still looks and sounds like death.

“Okay, so the main idea of this journal is that…” Sehun’s raspy voice trails off as he stares at his notes. “Uh… can you read this?”

Jongin raises an eyebrow and snaps his book shut. “Okay, that’s it. We’re going to bed.”

“No! I’m not tired!” Sehun claims, immediately sitting up straighter. “My handwriting is just messy here.”

“And you think I would do a better job deciphering it?” Jongin scoffs. “You’re exhausted, Sehun. We can save studying for tomorrow morning.”

Sehun shakes his head indignantly. They haven’t done anything that Jongin had planned for. Even the dinner had gone straight into the fridge because Sehun had been too exhausted to even chew. He vocalizes his disdain to Jongin, ending with a plead, “You can at least show me your dance? I promise I’ll be awake enough to get a good recording of it.”

Despite Jongin’s doubtful look, he gives in pretty easily, especially because the energy from Sehun’s coffee has seemed to make him extra persuasive.

“Fine. Give me a second to get it set up.”

While Jongin puts on clothes more suited for dancing and queues up the music, Sehun grabs a few things from his bag, stuffing them in his pocket as he steps out onto the balcony. He waits till Jongin is out of sight and then digs out the loose cigarette and lighter. The surge of nicotine might just give him the energy to stay awake for the next hour or so.

He’s halfway through the cigarette when Jongin peeks his head through the sliding door. “Still alive?”

Sehun turns his head away to blow out the smoke from his last inhale before turning back to face Jongin. He lifts the cigarette between his fingers, having given up on hiding it when he’s been caught in the act anyway. “Yeah, just give me a sec.”

Jongin makes a face but nods, sliding the door shut and leaving Sehun to finish.

Jongin’s place has a good view, too, but most of his windows face the campus, which isn’t extremely exciting to look at. Though, if Sehun leans over the edge enough, he can get a better look at the skyline, twinkling, shimmering. He can’t help but laugh to himself a little; he probably pays a tenth of what Jongin does for rent. The irony of having the better view from a worse place is not lost on him.

Sehun finishes off the cigarette to the very last puff, stamping it out on the railing and bringing it inside to toss in the trash. Jongin isn’t in the living room, but the light in his bedroom is on. Sehun collapses into the couch, cursing the soft cushions as he fights to keep his eyes open.

The couch dips beside him. “Are you sure you don’t wanna sleep?”

Sehun opens his eyes to find a concerned Jongin sitting beside him, one hand cradling his face. Jongin’s thumb drifts across Sehun’s cheek and the sensation fills Sehun with an unexplainable warmth. At this angle, the lights shining through the balcony seem to glow behind Jongin’s head like a halo.

“‘M good,” Sehun insists, sitting up a little and readjusting. The action jostles Jongin’s hand off his face and he finds himself missing the touch. “Just a quick power nap.”

Jongin shakes his head, standing up. “Let’s just do this tomorrow. Come on.”

“No, no!” Sehun shakes himself into being more awake. Fucking useless cigarette and coffee. “Come on. Let’s do this. Do you wanna record on your phone?”

Jongin gives him a look, but Sehun doesn’t relent.

“Yeah, the phone is fine, but I wanna get some feedback first, so just watch this one.”

Sehun nods, blinking rapidly when Jongin isn’t looking to clear his eyes and refocus. Jongin. Dancing. He can’t fall asleep during this. It could break Jongin’s confidence.

Jongin hits play on his computer and, suddenly, Sehun isn’t too worried about breaking Jongin’s confidence. Or falling asleep.

Because when Jongin looks over his shoulder, he’s nowhere near his normal playful attitude. He’s in his sex mode: all coy looks and sultry eyes and… god, was Jongin always this graceful? Sehun swears that this can not be the same guy he saw spill coffee all over his counter a few weeks ago. He maneuvers himself from motion to motion like it’s second nature, like the music flows through every limb and muscle and cell in his body to move him just right. And when he finishes the short routine, he’s panting, but his expression never falters as he looks deep into Sehun’s eyes.

Sehun’s out of breath, too, but from holding it, so as to not miss a single moment. His eyes feel a little dry. When he blinks to moisturize them, they water and a tear rolls down his cheek, out of his control.

“Was it that good?” Jongin questions, pausing the music and then sliding onto Sehun’s lap to brush the tear away. “Or are you just that tired?”

Sehun looks at the face in front of him and is hit with the sudden realization of how beautiful Jongin is. Not that he had ever doubted that; it was part of the reason he had been willing to start their agreement in the first place. But the fact that, even now— even sweaty and out of breath and a little flushed from the sudden exercise at ass o’clock in the morning— he’s still breath-taking.

“Not tired at all; could never be after that,” Sehun shakes his head, still looking into Jongin’s smiling eyes. “That was beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

The tint on Jongin’s cheek deepens. “Glad you thought so. Are you still up to take the video for me?”

Sehun stays wide awake as he records the routine— and other things later, when they’re tangled in Jongin’s sheets.

Chapter Text

Jongin really wasn’t kidding about wanting to study at Sehun’s place.

Two days before their midterm, Jongin corners Sehun after his last class and firmly loops their arms together.

“Listen, I know you don’t have work. And I need some damn help. So we’re gonna get food, go to your place, and study until my head hurts, okay?”

There isn’t much Sehun can say in retaliation to that, so he allows himself to be dragged to the nearest grocery store by Jongin’s insistent pulling.

It’s just starting to get dark, with the usual hum of the city dwindling off into a calm quietness that would be unusual if it weren’t a weekday. Cars and bikes and people are sparse by now, and the streetlights flicker somewhere between on and off as the sun creeps off to bed, under the horizon. If Sehun squints enough, he can just start to see the twinkle of stars in the sky and the moon cradled between clouds.

Even the store is relatively vacant, neon signs flashing on, tube lights casting an artificial glow over rows and rows of plastic packaging and fruit and vegetables. It’s just a little too late for people to be shopping for essentials, probably dinner time for people who truly have their shit together. It feels a little strange to be wandering the aisles when there are few others doing the same.

Jongin doesn’t seem to care, grabbing a cart and using it to skate down the aisles. He comes to screeching stops when he finds something of interest, and throws it into the cart without hesitation. Sehun lingers behind him, comparing prices and picking out the cheapest alternatives until Jongin sighs and declares, “I’m paying.”

After that, they start breezing through the aisles and, since Sehun isn’t busy doing mental calculations, Jongin picks up the conversation.

“The team really liked my video,” he mentions while tossing a bag of cookies into the cart, which Sehun intercepts and replaces with granola bars.

“Did you have any doubt that they wouldn’t?” Sehun asks in amusement, turning to face Jongin with a cheeky grin. “I thought my response was enough to convince you it was good. You were practically scre—”

Sehun censors himself as someone wanders past their aisle. They dip in for a second to check for something and then leave when they don’t find it. Just as they round the corner and disappear, Jongin giggles and leans past Sehun to grab the confiscated cookies and throw them back in the cart.

“ Anyway , they want me to come back after midterms and start practicing with them,” Jongin states proudly, slapping Sehun’s hands when he tries to remove the cookies again.

Sehun rubs his wrist in mock hurt, pouting just a little. “Even less reason to put cookies in the cart. You gotta eat healthy, Jongin.”

“Are you kidding me? This is my reward for working so hard,” Jongin protests, shaking the package violently. “And also our sugar high to get through our study session. We don’t need a repeat of sleepy Sehun; you’re annoyingly stubborn when you’re tired.”

“You can just dance for me again,” Sehun suggests with a nudge as they maneuver themselves into the next aisle.

Jongin stops pushing the cart, putting his hands on his hips indignantly. “We need to study today!” His voice drops, “And my ass is still really fucking sore from last time.”

Sehun raises an eyebrow and corners Jongin between himself, the cart, and the shelf. “You? Telling us we need to study? Refusing sex? What have you done to the real Jongin?”

Jongin whines and pushes at Sehun’s chest. “I can be productive! And shouldn’t you be more proud of me for wanting to do work? And for pursuing my interests? You’re the one who gave me the advice in the first place.”

Sehun supposes that’s true enough, so he keeps his mouth shut and allows Jongin to drop whatever his heart desires in the cart. They check out their items soon after, filling up their backpacks and the one reusable bag Jongin had brought along, and make their way to the train station.

Jongin cracks lame jokes and Sehun tries to hide his laughter behind his sleeves, but Jongin prods at him until they’re both giggling like a bunch of kids. It’s pretty much dark by the time they’re at the station, waiting for the train to Sehun’s neighborhood to arrive. Jongin’s right hand is occupied with the grocery bag, but the left one slides into Sehun’s cold palm and interlaces their fingers, swinging between them as they talk and laugh. There’s only a few other people nearby, but they’re all too absorbed in their own worlds to pay attention to them.

A light flickers above Jongin and he yelps, clutching Sehun’s hand more tightly and scooching closer to him as he looks around suspiciously.

“For someone who watches horror movies alone, you sure are jumpy,” Sehun snickers, glad that Jongin hadn’t noticed his own flinch.

“It’s late,” Jongin insists. “And I don’t take the train that often, so I’m wary. People can be weird.”

“Amen,” Sehun huffs, thinking back to his stolen microwave. He misses that stupid machine, as old as it was. Why anyone would choose to steal it is a mystery. But better that, than his more valuable items.

The train arrives and Jongin makes a point of choosing an empty carriage because they can. And when they’re seated next to each other, he takes the liberty of resting on Sehun’s shoulder as he asks him questions about the midterm.

“I’m still a little confused about the concept of non-places,” he muses, playing with Sehun’s fingers. “Like, are they just empty places?”

Sehun shakes his head. “Non-places are arguably some of the most populated places. Like airports and hospitals and movie theaters. And they’re heavily populated because their functions are so important to modern society. But outside of that, they aren’t really all that necessary. It’s not like a park or community center, where you’d go specifically to interact with other humans.”

Jongin’s brow furrows. “So, like the grocery store could be a non-place?”

“Yeah. You only really go for a specific purpose, without the expectation of human interaction. Now there’s even stores with self-checkout,” Sehun reasons. “Another thing about non-places is that there’s, like, a strict order that you follow, and that order is the same for everyone. Like you go to the theater and have to buy a ticket, get snacks, have your ticket checked, and then you can sit down. As a society, we’ve become obsessed with the need for control and security, so more and more places follow this kind of model.”

Jongin nods slowly. “Okay…”

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it,” Sehun continues, quickly getting lost in his thoughts, as he’s bound to when he starts thinking about school stuff. “Our relationship would be a good example.”

And if Sehun weren’t so distracted by his train of thought, he might have noticed Jongin stiffen beside him. “Huh?”

“Like, our professional relationship,” Sehun continues, looking out the window and tapping the fingers of his free hand against his chin. “I mean, we are friends, obviously. But, the way you get your physical needs fulfilled while I get my monetary needs fulfilled, without any of the weird romantic attachments. And we have a set order of doing things, to make sure it runs smoothly and efficiently. Does that help conceptualize it a bit better?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

Sehun smiles in satisfaction at his example, turning back to Jongin. “That’s one more thing you’ll know for the test, then. Any other questions?”

Chapter Text

Sun, shining. Birds, chirping. Coffee, iced. Midterm, aced.

It’s rare that Sehun ever has such a happy day. Not to say that his days are usually terrible; they’re simply unremarkable. Good, sure, but not fantastic.

Today is a fantastic day.

He had walked into that anthropology midterm and made it his bitch, literally smiling the entire time he jotted down his answers. Absolutely crushed it. There was no way he was getting less than a 96. The answers had practically flown out of his pen and onto the paper without having to think about them. He had been one of the first done and got that smug satisfaction of feeling everyone’s envious eyes on him as he turned in his test and walked out with a spring in his step. Jongin had finished twenty minutes later, along with most of the other zombified students as they poured out of the lecture hall, some in tears. They had chatted about the answers for a bit before Jongin had to head to his next class, with promises to meet Sehun later in the day.

Sehun sips his coffee and leans back in his seat, outside of the coffee house. He watches other students hurry by, studying or promoting their clubs or simply trying to get to class. Not him, though. Today is the one day he’s not going to study at all. He’s going to enjoy his next two hours of free time and do absolutely nothing . And every second of it is going to be fantastic . And then, he’ll meet up with Jongin to grab food and— hopefully— fuck, until they get hungry again and order a pizza.

Grinning with the straw trapped between his teeth, he kicks his feet up on an empty chair and whips out his phone to scroll aimlessly until Jongin shows up. He’s midway through a video about a kitten raised by a dog when he gets a text from Chanyeol.

Automatically, his brows furrow and his stomach swoons uneasily. He really, really hopes Chanyeol isn’t going to call him in. As much as he likes the elder, this is Sehun’s one free day in a long time, and he would rather not sacrifice it with a shift at the restaurant.

Reluctantly, Sehun opens the message, only to find those dreadful words staring up at him:

Hey Sehun. Hope you’re not in class right now. Can you call me when you’re free?

Sehun almost argues to himself that he’s not free, not today. This day has been booked full by relaxation. Chanyeol will have to try again during regular business hours.

He looks down at the message again and feels his heart clench. A sigh escapes his lips as he comes to a mental compromise: he’ll see what Chanyeol needs and, if he can’t manage it, he’ll just say he’s busy. Easy peasy. He hits the call button.

The phone only rings twice before Chanyeol picks up. But there’s something odd about his tone from the moment he greets, “Hey, Sehun. Hope you’re not busy, right now?”

Sehun shakes his head as he responds, even though Chanyeol can’t see it. “Nope, just finished a midterm. What’s up?”

There is a pregnant pause. Chanyeol’s voice cracks when he speaks again. “I, uh… there’s some bad news. It’s regarding the restaurant… we, uh… well, we’re getting shut down.”

As soon as the words are uttered, a sense of overwhelming dread takes hold of Sehun’s body. He hears Chanyeol say something about running behind on payments, that he was offered a bailout in the form of some businessman who wanted to erect a building on the land. That Sehun would get his cut of the money to make up for the whole unemployed situation. That he and Kyungsoo plan on moving to Goyang to live with Kyungsoo’s family until things get sorted out for them, financially. And that he’s so, so sorry he couldn’t give Sehun a notice in advance.

As Sehun half-listens to all of this, stuck in an unexplainable daze, he half-wishes Chanyeol had called him into work instead.

He does not even realize his hands are shaking until he runs one over his face to try to refocus. He quietly tells Chanyeol that it’s okay, even as he’s panicking, because he can only imagine how much more difficult this must be for the couple. Chanyeol tells him he’ll send him his final paycheck within the week— and that there are a few bars hiring where he can put in a good word for Sehun— before saying goodbye. Sehun wishes the couple luck for their future and notes down the names Chanyeol recites on a scrap paper with still trembling fingers.

When Jongin shows up, Sehun has been sitting in silence for 5 minutes, still trying to process everything, trying to calm his beating heart and take deep breaths.

“Sehun? Are you okay?” Jongin asks, as he slides into the seat previously occupied by Sehun’s outstretched legs. He drops his backpack on the table and leans forward to catch Sehun’s eye. “Hun?”

Sehun doesn’t know where to begin, so he simply says, “I lost my job.”

Jongin inhales sharply, and a brief, tense silence hangs over them before Jongin dares to break it. “Oh… oh, Sehun, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

Sehun relays the details as best as he can, not looking up to see Jongin’s pained expression throughout the story; he can feel its weight well enough. His words start to rush out of him in a panic as he tries to end his story, to stop those pitying looks, but each word sends him further into his spiral of worry.

“Yeol gave me a few places to apply to, but who knows when they’ll get back to me? And I’ll have to work my way from the bottom all over again no matter where I end up. I was supposed to get the manager position and be a little more steady for the coming years… fuck, my next rent payment is due soon. And I still have one more semester of tuition… oh god. I’m fucking screwed.”

Sehun feels wetness drip down his cheeks as he speaks, and the shaking in his hands returns with a vengeance. He feels like everyone’s eyes are on him. Watching him break down in public. He can only hope they think it’s because of midterms stress.

Suddenly, Jongin is patting his face dry with the sleeve of his Gucci sweater and sliding the other hand into one of his. “Shh… it’s okay, Sehun. I told you I’m here, right? You can move in with me and I can cover your living expenses while you find a new job, right? It’ll be okay.”

There isn’t necessarily anything wrong with what Jongin says. But something about it hits a nerve in Sehun’s already upset psyche and causes his forehead to crease. The reminder of the differences between them morphs into an irritation that has venom spilling from his lips before he can stop himself.

“You really think things will be fixed so easily?” Sehun scoffs in disbelief. He feels Jongin’s hand clench in his, for a moment. “You think you can just throw your money at me, and I’ll, what? Be thankful to you? While I have to keep owing you for every little thing? And how long will your help last, Jongin? What happens when your dad gives you a job in his company and sends you off to marry some girl? Will I still have financial support then? Without any strings attached?”

“Of cou—”

“And what about when the next best thing comes along?” Sehun spits, ripping his hand away from Jongin’s. He knows he’s getting too loud for a public space, but he can’t help himself. “When you find someone who you actually like and care about, and I can’t be your manwhore anymore? What the fuck am I gonna do then?”

“Sehun!”

“Let’s face it. You can’t just throw daddy’s money at every problem, especially when they’re not even your problems,” Sehun rages on, a strange pain clutches and claws at his heart. “What happens when your dad looks at your bank account, huh? What do you tell him? That you’re working on a charity case? Because that’s not me. I got along just fine before you, and I can do it now without you.”

“I’m not—!” Jongin exclaims, with a volume that rivals Sehun’s, but his voice cracks.

Sehun meets his eyes just in time to see tears streaming down Jongin’s face. Something aches in his chest at the sight, but he can’t help but think, Why is he crying?! It’s my life that’s a mess!

But before he can say anything more, Jongin leaps up and runs away. He’s sobbing messily into his sweater as he rounds the corner of a building, before disappearing from sight.

Sehun watches him go, chest heaving, hands clenched into fists. When he calms down enough, he glances around and notices a few people looking between him and the spot where Jongin had escaped. Ignoring their curious looks, he swings his own bag over his shoulder and storms off in the opposite direction, towards the nearest bus station.

When he arrives back in his apartment, his anger has tamped down to exhaustion. He throws his belongings on the floor and immediately goes for the smallest drawer in his kitchen. Five loose cigarettes roll around when it opens, bumping into each other and his lighter. He smokes while laying down on his mattress, flicking ashes into a paper cup until it burns down to the butt, and goes to sleep.

Chapter Text

A single week passes without Jongin contacting Sehun.

Sehun had expected as much, given the nasty words he had unthinkingly flung at Jongin. And even after just a few hours of his nap, the anger had dissipated into immense guilt for raising his voice so unexpectedly. As much as Jongin’s idealistic words had upset him, it was completely uncalled for when all he had been trying to do was help alleviate Sehun’s stress.

But after the first couple of days, Jongin’s silence starts to grate at Sehun’s subconscious. It’s not like they haven’t spent long periods of time apart before, but the context is completely different from the usual. It leaves an icky feeling in Sehun’s stomach when he realizes Jongin’s texts stop popping up on his phone, or when he watches Jongin intentionally sit as far as possible during lectures.

But something keeps him from approaching Jongin first, because— barring that one incident— Sehun has never been the initiator. And he doesn’t know if Jongin will think of his apology as selfish, as a way for Sehun to reopen a source of income because his funds have started to run low again.

So, naturally, he throws himself into the one thing that comes easily, instead: work. He focuses on his studies, while contacting the restaurants and bars Chanyeol had recommended to him. He goes to interview after interview, and stretches his budget to its barest in the meantime. But the hours are either too strenuous, or they’ve already hired enough staff.

He takes a part-time shift at the convenience store in the meantime, mostly for the perks of free food after his shifts. And his landlord is kind enough to listen to his begging to compile the rent for this month to next month’s billing instead.

Three weeks without contact from Jongin and he’s still surviving, calculating this month’s expenses in the margins of his notes as he half-listens to a lecture that he already read through the other night. Truly, the only reason he had come to class today was for information on the next midterm, even leaving his backpack at home so he could go to his next interview uninhibited. It’s for a brewery that is most popular on weeknights, so the hours are less than ideal, but not impossible. The place is closer to campus which means he won’t have a chance to go home and freshen up between school and shifts, but negotiating over small luxuries is not a choice he has. If he gets the job, he’ll take it, simple as that.

The interview goes fine, and they say they’ll contact him by the end of the week to confirm their decision. Sehun hops on the first bus home just as the sun is starting to set and gets to his apartment by following the slowly brightening streetlights. The elevator carries him upwards, unhurried as its walls creak and groan, and grinds to a halt at his floor.

When Sehun approaches his door, he slides his key into the lock, only to frown when there is no telltale click of the door unlocking. He could have sworn that he had locked the door before leaving this morning.

A strange emotion starts in his chest, sinking down to his stomach as he pushes the door open and takes in the chaos of his apartment.

With every step deeper into the space, it is clear what has happened. Drawers and cabinets have been flung open, more of his clothes litter the floor than usual, the few pieces of furniture are tipped over, old papers litter the ground. And the split wood of his window frame has completely given way, leaving shards of glass all over the floor by his bed and allowing unfettered access into his apartment by way of the stairs of the fire escape.

He’s been robbed.

And, at first glance, Sehun isn’t entirely worried; he’s been hit with a robbery before. and all he really lost was his microwave. This time, he doesn’t even have that . The robbers must have been disappointed.

Until Sehun wanders into the bathroom and sees the cleaning supplies littered over the tiles, instead of neatly and methodically stacked in the bottom cupboard. So that they would hide his safe, in which he had left his computer.

Except there’s no safe. And that means, there is definitely no computer.

Sehun does not even realize when he has fallen to the floor, staring blankly into the space where his safe is usually nestled. He feels like he should be panicking more. He has some important documents on that computer, as well as school work and personal items. Whoever stole the computer in the first place probably would care less about the information and more about wiping it clean and reselling it. And, of course, most of it is backed up to the cloud, so it’s all still accessible, if he gets another computer. Even if he can’t afford one right now, he can just work in the campus library in the meantime, since he spends most of his time there anyway. And for everything else, he could just work off of his phone.

But for every solution that he offers to himself, Sehun still can’t shake the fact that he will need a computer eventually. And that he doesn’t have a job. And that he still has rent and utilities and other bills to pay.

And, most importantly, that he simply can’t be safe in this apartment anymore. He was lucky enough to not be in the flat the past two times that it was robbed, but that doesn’t mean he’ll fare any better if there’s another attempt, especially if he is inside.

Or maybe he just keeps telling himself these things as an excuse.

As a way to rationalize his presence at Jongin’s door, right now.

The bus ride had been filled with trepidation, and he’d nearly turned back several times to uphold his fragile pride. And then, when he’d arrived at the front desk to record his name in the visitor’s log, he’d nearly expected the receptionist to turn him away, to say that Jongin had taken him off the visitors list. But she’d recognized Sehun’s face and simply waved him up, and he took it as a sign that he was still allowed to be here.

Sehun scoffs; he can scarcely believe himself. After snapping at Jongin and insulting him, just for trying to help him out, he’s now crawling back for the very charity he had rejected so thoughtlessly. So stubborn in his ways. So set in his beliefs, that his way is the only correct one.

Sehun’s finger wavers over the doorbell.

He shouldn’t be here. He made his decision and he should stick with it. And how can he even be sure that Jongin will allow him in? Maybe he had just forgotten to take Sehun off the list.

Is this too presumptuous? Is he using Jongin? Most likely, yes, his mind replies.

His hand clenches and withdraws to his side. Sehun takes a step back, then another, and another, until he’s back at the elevator. Pressing the button to call the lift is so much easier, and he feels lighter doing it. After all, what right does he have? To come back and expect all to be forgiven? He should at least make amends before asking more of Jongin. (Not that he will; he’s too much of a coward for that.)

The doors slide open as Sehun stares at the ground and examines the carpet he’s seen so many times, but never actually seen . And a thought begins to form in his head of how metaphorical it all is, when he’s pushed hard in the chest.

And when he stumbles— wide-eyed— trying to gain his balance, he sees Jongin in front of him, silently seething.

“What are you doing here.”

For a minute, all Sehun can do is stare, all words lost because— wow. It has been entirely too long since he’s seen Jongin’s face this close. And he’s missed it. The strong jawline that fits so perfectly in the cradle of his palm. Those normally plush lips, currently pressed together in distaste, but that always call out Sehun’s name in a honey sweet voice. Gorgeous brown eyes that hold the stars and the universe in their depths, even as they brim with unshed tears… as they do now.

Another glare, a harder shove. “Answer me!”

“I’m sorry,” Sehun chokes out, not because it’s difficult, but because he’s useless when Jongin looks at him like that. Useless when Jongin looks at him at all. And all of his guilt comes crashing down on him with such vengeance that he can't think of anything else. “I… I was mad. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Especially not when you were trying to help me. I get it if you can’t forgive me, but I… I am sorry.”

As the words leave Sehun's lips, Jongin’s shoulders droop, and the lines of his face shift from frustrated to tired. “But some part of you meant it all, right?”

Sehun blinks twice and Jongin continues, “That I’m taking advantage of your situation and keeping you attached to me until I get bored and move on? Sehun, if you were having these thoughts, you should have told me. Because I would have reminded you. Reminded you that you’re my friend before everything else; before the tutoring, before the money, before the sex. You’re always my friend first . And I would never turn my back on you, especially not if you need me. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear eno—”

“No,” Sehun interrupts, quickly reaching out to hold one of Jongin’s hands. “Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. I was just… being stupid. Everything is fine with this, with us.”

Jongin sighs and a small tear escapes his eye and slips down his cheek. “I introduced the idea of this whole setup. I should have just helped you out without asking for anything in return.”

“You knew I was too proud to accept that,” Sehun corrects, squeezing Jongin’s hand. “I wouldn’t have gone through with it, so don’t try to blame yourself for that.”

Jongin chuckles sadly. “Whether you acknowledge it or not, I had a part in creating your anxieties. So, I am sorry. And if I can do anything to prove them wrong, I’ll do it. If you still need help with anything at all, I’ll happily do it, no hidden clauses or exceptions.”

Even though he’s practically delivering it on a golden plate, Sehun can’t bring himself to ask for the very help Jongin is offering. The insecurities from moments ago rise up again, clogging up his throat. What if Jongin starts thinking that Sehun had only shown up to apologize because he needed the favor? Or they have an argument and he starts tallying up everything Sehun owes him in retaliation? Or—

“Hey,” Jongin’s soft voice interrupts Sehun’s racing thoughts, and he realizes that he’s been staring at the carpet with a blank look. When he blinks and brings his eyeline back up to Jongin’s, the shorter’s face breaks into a reassuring smile. “Do you want to come inside?”

Sehun nods, because actions are much easier than words right now, and allows Jongin to gently tug on their joined hands until they’re at his door. He punches in the number with his other hand and the door clicks open. Jongin doesn’t let go of his hand, even when they’ve taken off their shoes and sat on the couch and Jongin has snuggled up to him like nothing ever changed at all.

After a spell of silence— where Jongin clearly expects him to say something, but Sehun cannot find his words—  Jongin gently asks, “Do you want anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

Despite his dry throat, Sehun shakes his head. His mind is still reeling, but Jongin’s solid warmth helps to distract from his more intrusive thoughts. Jongin studies him for a brief second before nodding in understanding and going back to resting his head on Sehun’s shoulder, as if silently saying, Talk whenever you’re ready.

Five, agonizing minutes pass. Sehun is starting to feel bad about not speaking up, but he doesn’t know how to start explaining his plight without sounding desperate and selfish. Jongin ends up going to the kitchen to bring them both water, setting the glasses on the tables. As he repositions himself on the couch, Sehun finally finds his voice, but it doesn’t come out nearly as eloquently as he had been planning for the past five minutes.

“The job… and university. And my place got broken into. And my computer. It was stolen. But I don’t… feel safe. So, I came here. But not just for help! I really, really wanted to apologize too, but I just didn’t know… what would be a good time. Or if I was even allowed, after everything.”

It all kind of comes out in a mumble. But when Sehun looks up, Jongin has a comforting look in his eyes and a kind smile on his lips, as if he had already known , but wanted to let Sehun say it himself so that he would know that Jongin isn’t angry, or frustrated.

“I’m sorry to hear about that,” Jongin whispers. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Sehun swallows roughly, and it quite literally feels like swallowing his pride. “Can I… do you mind if I crash on your couch for a while? Just until the end of the school year, latest?”

Jongin’s hand slides from Sehun’s, up his arm, onto his shoulder, to the nape of his neck where he massages the hairline soothingly. “Of course. You can stay as long as you need; I plan on staying here for a while after graduation. And I have the office room… we can set up a bed in there for you. Do you need me to help you move anything from the apartment?”

Sehun shakes his head, twisting his hands together. “I just have some clothes.”

“Okay. We’ll drive over in a bit to pick it up. You’ll be able to settle things with the leasers?”

Sehun nods, his body shaking a little from the way Jongin is talking to him. With so much care and patience and understanding. It feels so strange to have Jongin caring for him in a way that isn’t financial, when it’s usually the other way around for moments like this. “I have a really flexible contract with them, given the… state of the building. I just have to pay them the last couple months’ rent and maybe next month’s to account for their losses.”

“Let me know if you need me to pitch in.”

“I have enough for that; don’t worry about it,” Sehun insists. Affording another computer might be pushed back a little, but at least he won’t have to worry about rent after that.

Jongin nods slowly, trailing his hand down Sehun’s broad back and wrapping both arms around his waist and nuzzling into Sehun’s neck. “Okay, I trust you… You know, I’m kind of excited to have a roommate. It gets lonely around here.”

That pulls a broken laugh from Sehun. “Glad I can provide you with some company.”

“Mm,” Jongin hums, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. “We’re gonna have to keep away from the sex stuff, so you don’t keep feeling like you owe me something. You’re gonna be a true, boring roommate. We’re gonna have to do stuff like… assign chores, and coordinate laundry schedules, and get groceries.”

Jongin bursts into peals of laughter as he says it, and Sehun can’t help but laugh with him, shaking shoulders jostling Jongin a bit. When he calms his giggles and responds, it’s sincere.

“I look forward to it.”

Chapter Text

One week into living with each other, Jongin none-too-subtly mentions that he has an unused laptop sitting around since he made the switch to a tablet for a majority of his schoolwork. Sehun accepts it somewhat begrudgingly; Jongin’s pout is too hard to say no to.

Two weeks into living with each other, Sehun secures a job at another bar in the area. Jongin celebrates by treating him to take out that they eat on the couch, sitting respectably on either end and keeping their hands to themselves.

At three weeks, Jongin starts visiting whenever Sehun is working the later hours and walking back home with him. His knuckles sometimes brush against Sehun’s as their hands swing between them, but they recoil quickly.

Four weeks in, Sehun manages to pay whatever was due for the old apartment. It’s around then that a desk and bed get set up in the guest bedroom, too, and Sehun makes his move off the couch. They celebrate the couch’s newfound freedom by drinking beer and playing video games. Sehun is on a winning streak and boasting about it; Jongin is pouting and demanding rematch after rematch. Eventually, when Sehun has milked his victory enough, he unthinkingly presses a kiss to the side of Jongin’s head.

It’s something that he’s done a thousand times before, when they were still in their little arrangement. But Jongin recoils as if Sehun’s lips had been smeared in poison.

So, the next weekend, in the middle of dinner, as Jongin tells a story about the dance team and how much he loves dancing with them and how glad he is that Sehun encouraged him to go for it, Sehun asks the question plaguing him:

“Are we okay?”

Jongin snorts lightheartedly from where he’s peeling and chopping carrots, “Okay, way to change the topic.”

After giving the pot one cursory stir, Sehun turns away from the stove to lean against the counter. “I’ve just been thinking about it. After I got mad at you that day, I don’t know if I ever apologized properly.”

“Oh my god,” Jongin groans, setting down his knife and pivoting to face Sehun with an expression of disbelief. “Do not. If I had actually been super mad, I wouldn’t have helped you. And you cracked sooner than I thought you would.”

Three weeks , Sehun’s subconscious notes derisively.

“So you’re not mad?” he clarifies instead.

“Not mad,” Jongin confirms, turning back around and picking up his knife. “You’re my best friend, Sehun.”

A comfortable silence settles around them for a minute, only interrupted by the noise of the knife on the cutting board. Sehun goes back to stirring the curry, but the longer he watches it swirl around in the pot, the more an uneasy feeling settles over him.

“I mean, were we ever just friends?”

Jongin faces Sehun again, bottom lip caught between his teeth, hands crossed over his chest, but doesn’t say anything for a long minute. The silence only interrupted by the bubbling of the curry.

“I… yes, of course. We’ve always been friends. Friends who have had sex with each other multiple times, but yes, friends,” Jongin finally replies, but he doesn’t sound very convinced of it himself. Like he’s holding back.

Sehun drums his fingers against the countertop, thinking about the last few weeks. The last few months. “I just feel like… some of the things I do with you, I don’t do with my other friends.”

“Like have sex with them?” Jongin offers, like he’s trying to ease the weird tension that’s building up around them by cracking a joke.

Sehun shakes his head. “I mean, yes, but… even after we stopped that. Like the way I talk to you, and you talk to me. And the way we spend time together. And the way I think about you. Do you feel that too?”

Another long pause. Sehun catches Jongin fidgeting in his periphery. When he speaks, his voice is tiny. “I guess it depends: what do you think about me?”

I want to kiss you, Sehun thinks immediately, and is taken aback at how suddenly and desperately he wants it. I want to hold your hand. I want to give you all my time, every second of every day. I want to wake up and see your face. I want… I want to…

“I just like spending time with you, a lot more than with anyone else. And when we aren’t together, I feel like I should be trying to be with you again.”

He could say so much more, but his tongue feels heavy and his throat too dry to spit out the words. Instead, Sehun watches as Jongin leans against the counter and hugs his arms around himself tighter.

“What do you want me to say, Sehun?”

The lump in his throat persists, so Sehun does not say anything. Just watches as Jongin’s eyes dart around the kitchen. The way his teeth have moved on to gnawing his poor bottom lip, only releasing it when he clears his throat and starts talking.

“You bring me a lot of happiness and inspiration. You make me want to be better. But you also make me so confused. We know so much about each other, but it sometimes feels like I don’t know anything at all,” Jongin says, so low it’s almost a whisper. “You take care of me and I like it, but it’s an uphill battle when I try to do the same for you. I approached you because I wanted to get to know you better, but you were so closed off. And when I found out you were stripping to pay your bills, I selfishly thought that I could have a bit of your attention if I paid for it. It felt shitty to monopolize your time, but you were mine in those moments. And it felt nice because you treated me like a friend, and sometimes more. You opened yourself up.

“But then, that day at the train station, I realized how much of a transaction you thought our relationship was. You couldn’t see beyond a mutually beneficial arrangement. But that’s not us. When you sit next to me to study or eat, or when you kiss me, or ask me about my life or talk to me about my future, that’s all human-to-human interaction, no matter the terms that started this relationship. It’s all so intimate, no matter how much you might want to contest otherwise.”

Jongin pauses for a second, fiddling with the frayed edges of an old kitchen towel. “You can’t just cling to this idea that you don’t care about me in a way that’s special, or vice versa. I know your relationship with your family scares you from thinking that anyone else could ever love you without it being conditional, but that’s simply not true. And your continued denial is not fair to me and my feelings to you, and it’s definitely not fair to you.”

Sehun is stunned speechless at Jongin’s confession, arms crossed in front of him as if they’ll protect him from every truth Jongin flings at him. Because it feels like Jongin has taken the knife and sliced through his skin and laid bare all of his insecurities, everything he has been too afraid to put into words since meeting Jongin, all the ways he’s suppressed himself and his emotions. And more than that, he’s ashamed and how much Jongin must have been hurting to have known all this and kept it inside of his heart while Sehun was none the wiser. Or perhaps, simply stifling it all because he’d backed himself into a corner with his own anxieties.

There’s no use contesting Jongin’s words, but his insecurities still gnaw at him. “What about your family? And your responsibilities—”

Jongin stomps his foot and gives Sehun a glare, but it’s less heat and more exasperated. “I just confessed to you and you’re still worried about all of that? For god’s sake, Sehun, I’m saying that I LOVE you. That I care about you! I want to spend the foreseeable future with you! If my family has a problem with that, then I don’t need them! I only need you!”

Sehun has never heard Jongin raise his voice quite like that and— if it were any other situation— Sehun might have laughed. Instead, he takes an unsteady step forward, acutely aware of Jongin’s eyes on him.

“Oh my god,” Jongin snaps when Sehun lingers for a second too long, leaping forward. Sehun just barely catches and steadies him as Jongin presses their lips together impatiently and threads his fingers through Sehun’s hair. Sehun can do nothing but kiss back and hope that his actions convey what he cannot. His hands naturally find their place at Jongin’s waist, tracing the outline of his muscles over his shirt as he kisses and kisses like he’s craved. Like Jongin is his own personal oasis in this dry, ruthless world. His resting point, his comfort… simply his .

“You know,” Jongin pants when they’ve separated for air. “For someone so fucking dedicated to being smart, you’re an idiot. I almost hit you on the train that day when you compared us to fucking non-places , but I gave you the benefit of the doubt. If I had known that it was up to me to be the responsible one, I would have yelled at you a lot sooner.”

Sehun doesn’t feel like it’s his place to laugh at that, as much as he wants to, so instead he says, “I’m sorry.” I was suppressing it all. I wasn’t thinking. I was too worried about losing everything else that I forgot to worry about losing you.

“You could never lose me,” Jongin snorts, voice lower now. And it takes Sehun a second to realize that he had been speaking out loud. “I’m infatuated with you. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me. Unless you tell me that you actually don’t want this, that I’ve read everything all wrong and that I’m being a clingy, emotional idiot right now.”

There is no way Jongin could read him wrong. Just like Sehun knows how to take care of Jongin, Jongin knows how to take care of him. Jongin is… there are no earthly words he could use to explain it. Special , maybe, but that still doesn’t feel like enough to convey the feeling Sehun gets when Jongin is with him. And he’s infuriated that all his years of education have given him years of knowledge but no way to identify the beautiful connection and affection he feels towards Jongin.

“I think I love you, too.”

The usual anxiety has no chance to curl up in his chest. Not when his words are met by Jongin’s earth-shattering, sun-rivalling, angel-bearing smile, right before he brings Sehun into another kiss.

Maybe he doesn’t need some special word to define their relationship. Maybe he doesn’t need to push and give without pulling and taking himself. Maybe there is this special place, right next to Jongin, where everything said, and unsaid, is understood. Where he doesn’t have to worry unnecessarily because Jongin gets it, gets him .

Maybe it is simply enough to live and love (and be loved) by Jongin.