#185: Perceptions of Right, Wrong, and What Really Is. (1/3)

[lordchen]

Prompt: #185
Title: Perceptions of Right, Wrong, and What Really Is.
Pairing: Chen/Lu Han side! Baekhyun/Zitao, Chanyeol/Kyungsoo, past! Chen/Yixing,
Rating: NC-17
Words: 87k
Warnings: supernatural elements (soul mates), slight angst, very minor infidelity, sexual content, sass,
Summary: Jongdae has spent his whole life waiting for this, so it kind of sucks when things aren’t at all what he expects.
Notes: I kind of took the prompt and ran with it~ I hope you like it!

Ever since he was young, the soft faint line around his wrist intrigued him. It wasn’t that it looked ugly or was painful, but it was just interesting to him, something that all the other little boys and girls his age had but was absent from the wrists of his mother and father.

“Why don’t you have one?” Jongdae had asked his mother one day, holding onto to the ropes of the swing his mother had been gently pushing him on. “Why don’t you or dad have one? Why is it me and Jongdeok? Is it a kid thing?”

His mother had laughed and reminded him that she and his father were meant to be together, that they were perfect for each other. She’d smoothed the hair back from his face, fussing with the little part in the back that sticks up sometimes, and smiled beautifully. “You’ll find yours one day, and then you’ll be just like your dad and I and have a soul mate of your own.”

A childhood spent sneaking into his brother’s room to steal from his stash of candies and hiding in a tent made of blankets, Jongdae would curl up in pillows with books open on his lap. Books about fantasy, about true love and about finding the one who was perfect; his dream. The other boys read other books, and Jongdae read those too, but he always ended up pulling the same books down into his lap, fingers poking at the perfect princesses and knights in shining armor.

“When am I gonna meet them?” Jongdae asked his dad like he did every day, watching the small circlet mark around his left wrist get darker than it had last year. He knew it got darker, because he watched it every day, waiting for it to turn red and for his other half to smile back at him with a matching vibrant red line around their wrist. “Am I going to meet them tomorrow? It’s getting dark, look at how dark it is, I think I’ll be married this year.”

His dad would laugh, ruffle his hair, and tell him to be patient. “You can’t rush these things, Jongdae,” he’d say with a wide smile and eyes that crinkled, just like Jongdae would watch his own do in the mirror. “You’ll find your soul mate soon. Just give them time and be patient”

Jongdae waited, lying in the grass with his friends or alone and wondering into the lulls of silence what his soul mate would be like. Jongdae developed standards after the girls in the schoolyard fell over each other flirting with the other boys, staining their wrists red with ink and giggling. The girls would find something they liked, and may even break the mold, settling for the ‘cool’ boys or forget their worth.

Forget the idea of who it was they were supposed to be with while clouding it with ideas of people ‘cool’ and ‘popular’ at the time.

Jongdae was sure he’d find someone, just around the same time everyone else did, feeling nervous every time he met someone new and checking his wrist anxiously for the flash of vibrant red.

In Middle school his best friend came to class with a dark scarlet line around his wrist and Jongdae watched him smile shyly at the soft-spoken transfer boy in the cafeteria and felt a chip take away at his heart.

In High School, his brother called him and told him how he’d met the most amazing girl in his life and talked for two hours before asking Jongdae how his singing contest had been. Jongdae sat and listened with his teeth worrying his lips raw and feeling another chip fall away.

In University, Jongdae watched all his friends link hands with fading marks of pink around their wrists and happy smiles on their faces, eyes in love and leaving Jongdae behind. Chips at his hardshell heart were replaced with sarcasm and quips as his eyes strayed to the perfect people he’d been so sure of but when he met them, the mark of brown was just as dark and the note of fear trembled just a little stronger of ever finding the one for him.

“Where are you?” Jongdae sometimes asked himself, fingers running along the now dark brown around his wrist as the various images of the handsome boys with warm hands and pretty soft girls who smiled and were the world flashed through his mind. “Where are you?” he’d ask when he stood in a room of people in love and felt alone and cold, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around himself and hold.

It got harder when a shuddering heart jumped for people who were everything and his breathing caught and he thought maybe there was something wrong. It wasn’t just finding the person, but maybe he’d already found them and the mark was mistaken.

After all, how hard could it be to find his soul mate?

“The whole point of dating is to figure out who you’re gonna be with,” Kyungsoo said, leaning back and frowning at the book he’d been grinding through the past hour. “You meet them and find out if they’re good for you.”

“Or you have a soul mate and don’t worry about it,” Baekhyun had added and been, as usual, unhelpful towards Jongdae’s predicament. “Though you could just go out and fuck around if you really wanted.”

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo shot back in warning as Jongdae sighed, fingers running over the dark brown line around his wrist subconsciously. It had long become a habit for him to let his fingers drag over the skin, waiting for the moment when it wouldn’t be brown and he’d find that shock, the Pull and the reaction that was electric and into his heart.

“He’s the one that’s whining,” Baekhyun shot back with a wave. “I’m offering alternatives to whining about this and instead whining about other things.”

Kyungsoo frowned and Jongdae thought of how many times he’d met people who felt so perfect and it just, according to everything, wasn’t.

“Maybe you’re just defective,” Baekhyun pondered before laughing as Jongdae threw Kyungsoo’s book at him from across the room, earning a loud protesting yell from Kyungsoo as his book earned more damage than it caused.

Maybe…

Time clicked on and the more hearts that were taken, the more Jongdae’s shook in apprehension of where he’d be when there were none left.


๑


A low moan pulls up from the back of his throat, ending in a breathless whine that feels like it’s being pulled from his very core. Spidering over his oversensitive skin in waves of pleasure, Jongdae’s fingers dig and cling for purchase over sweaty skin as he chokes out “more.”

The building feeling that seems to be taking forever, hovering at the shores of pleasure and sensation rocks him to shivers, limbs shaking as his breaths come hard and ragged. The rhythm between them begins to increase, pushing the air a bit from Jongdae’s lungs as he’s fucked into again, the hard cock’s faster pace pressing deeper and directly into where he had been worked open earlier, sending waves of pleasure through him, making him gasp.

Panting, and heady with the burn that’s been hovering in the center of his groin for a while, Jongdae feels a nudge at his chin and turns. His eyes close, drinking in the press of lips to his own and trying to drown in it, trying to let himself slip into the feeling of sex, of being connected in the most intimate way. The angle shifts, pressing deeper, the hands that slide over his skin, holding his hip and the back of his knee pressed back so he’s splayed open, and he moans.

Jongdae moans because it feels good but it’s been teetering at the edge of feeling ‘good’ for about the last ten minutes of fucking and Jongdae is getting tired.

Snaking a hand between them, Jongdae lets his back arch as his fingers wrap around his cock, still hard and slick from spit and precum. Sighing into the mouth still open against his, Jongdae rocks back, hips rolling as his hand moves to match the snap of hips into him.

It helps. Significantly.

“I’m close,” gasps against his mouth and Jongdae just nods, letting out a gasping moan as his hand moves faster, the added stimulation shoving him fast towards climax.

Jongdae is all for sex, for sitting on a cock and searching for that deeper connection that he’s been trying his whole life to find and begun to think that maybe he hasn’t been taking a proactive enough role. It’s just he and Yixing have been fucking for nearly an hour.

Jongdae knows because he checked the clock. Multiple times.

No one should ever feel inclined to check the clock during sex unless they have a valid reason for doing so. Like fucking during work breaks or before the family gets home from shopping.

It’s just not normal.

With the combined pressure of Yixing’s hips snapping into him, angling occasionally to hit his prostate and push that pleasure just a bit higher, Jongdae moves his hand faster. Panting as he nears his climax, mind fogging, he hazily can hear Yixing let out a low groan right before his hips stutter. Yixing’s harsh breaths fan against the heated skin of Jongdae’s neck as he focuses on his hand moving fast over his dick. The coil winds tighter and Jongdae can tell he’s moaning from the soft kisses Yixing is pressing into his collarbone, fingers replacing his cock to knead against his prostate and get him off.

Jongdae cums in a white haze of breath stopping in his throat as his back arches and the flood of release spreads through him fast. Breaths calming and feeling his body relax, heartbeat returning Jongdae blinks open his eyes to the feeling of Yixing’s weight atop him and his lips against his chest.

“Hey,” Yixing says, giving him a lazy smile and blinking slowly. His hair is pushed off his face and his eyes have the fogged afterglow of sex and Jongdae waits for the surge in his chest of emotion.

“Hey,” Jongdae replies, the stick in his mouth from dryness making his tongue heavy. Jongdae waits for that surge in his of affection, of love, of something strong and humming under his skin.

Yixing kisses him and Jongdae’s eyes don’t close as he’s waiting.

Yixing is of all kinds of perfect, with slow sweet kisses he’s thoughtful and funny and courteous and gentle and kind. Yixing is cute and sweet and jokes and is quiet and talented and everything. He’s understanding and hadn’t really said any form of protest when Jongdae had finally asked him out a few months ago, heart shaking in his chest from nerves as he waited for Yixing to ask him ‘why’.

Because Jongdae still had a brown line around his wrist to match Yixing’s.

It was being proactive, because Yixing was so handsome and cute at the same time and Jongdae figured ‘fuck it’ and thought maybe he had to take matters into his own hands to try to find his perfect soul mate.

“Are you alright?” Yixing asks him, just like he always does because he’s so nice and caring after having just fucked Jongdae for a good hour before either of them found relief.

“Fine,” Jongdae tells him and he’s been waiting for the latent soul mate bond to activate, for the line around his wrist to turn red like Yixing’s had a few weeks ago. But it’s still brown, and Jongdae’s still waiting for that surge of affection and after an hour of sex where Jongdae checked the clock five times, he knows when to stop. “You?”

Yixing kisses him, soft and warm full lips with a small bite to finish to Jongdae’s lower lip.

Jongdae really wants a shower.

Yixing showers first, because Yixing is hygienic about his body and offers for Jongdae to shower with him. Shaking his head, Jongdae ends up gathering up his sheets and tossing them into the hamper, the fabric dirtied enough that as tired as Jongdae is, there isn’t a chance in hell he’s sleeping on them.

It’s thinking time, where Jongdae looks at the mark on his wrist and the absent feeling of space in his chest that he knows other people can find without their soul mate and he wanted to find. Except it’s still a space and Yixing was supposed to be perfect.

Yixing’s wrist is completely unmarked when he emerges from the shower and Jongdae looks at it instead of Yixing’s face when he says “I think we should stop.”

“Showering?” Yixing asks, a towel over his shoulders and stark naked in the doorway.

“No,” Jongdae amends, making a sort of vague hand gesture, as if swatting a bug. “Dating.”

“Oh,” says Yixing and stops toweling his hair.

“Oh,” Jongdae mimics and there really isn’t much else to say when Yixing’s hand drops and he stands there, staring and kind of hollow. It’s ripping the bandage off. “Sorry,” he says, because he kind of is, and tries for a smile.


๑


“You broke up with him after fucking him?”

“Well,” Jongdae speaks around a mouthful of fries. “Technically, he was the one fucking me.”

“Oh, excuse me for the lack of clarification,” Kyungsoo says drolly, sitting back from the table and fixing Jongdae with a frown. “You broke up with him after letting him pound into your ass for an hour under the pretext of a fully functional relationship.”

“It’s amazing how you say all of that with a straight face,” Baekhyun says, pointing a fry in Kyungsoo’s direction and earning him no change of expression as Kyungsoo shifts his gaze to him. “Is that how you dirty talk Chanyeol? How does that even work? It’s like a nature documentary, which is the opposite of arousing.”

Kyungsoo begins to glare.

“Is that why you’re so easily pissed off?” Baekhyun continues as Jongdae sighs and puts down the fries, his appetite zapped as Baekhyun begins to ruin yet another conversation. His stomach is twisting anyway, the whole breaking up thing and also still needing a full time job thing and how all his friends are dating thing finally getting to him. “Sexual frustration. I understand it all now.” Baekhyun is now patting Kyungsoo on the back of the hand in what could be mistaken as sympathy if it were anyone but Baekhyun. “I completely sympathize. I wouldn’t want you dirty talking to me in monotone either, poor Chanyeol.”

“I’m going to cut your balls off with dull scissors,” Kyungsoo tells him evenly and Baekhyun flinches his hand back with a nervous too big smile. Then Kyungsoo is looking back at Jongdae. “Why did you break up with him again?”

It’s been about two weeks since Yixing put his pants back on and kissed Jongdae one last time, assuring him with a smile that it was no hard feelings. We aren’t soul mates anyway, I guess had hurt a lot more than Jongdae wants to admit. Not because he thinks Yixing meant it cruelly, but because Jongdae had thought that maybe, this time, they could have been.

He’d managed to avoid Baekhyun for a week, and Baekhyun had been distracted enough with his fiancé that he hadn’t noticed if Jongdae was a little quieter. But then two weeks passed and Chanyeol’s regular daily texts began to jumble and Kyungsoo finally called him and demanded to see him and confirm he was still among the living.

So, now he gets to sit here and feel odd man out among the couples again and try to explain why he broke up with his not-soul mate because his real soul mate apparently isn’t going to show until he’s in his nineties. If he’s lucky.

“It just wasn’t working,” Jongdae says and tries to shrug.

“Excuse me,” Chanyeol says, arriving and slipping into the seat beside Kyungsoo with a raise to his eyebrows. “You broke up with the perfect guy that you talked about because he was clearly the one you were supposed to be with because fuck this whole thing you were going to make your own soul mate and everything was perfect, perfect boyfriend? You broke up with him?”

“After having sex with him,” Kyungsoo adds and Chanyeol frowns a bit.

“Immediately after having sex with him,” Baekhyun adds helpfully and grabs more of Jongdae’s fries, patting the victim of the conversation on the shoulder a bit too hard.

“It wasn’t working out?” Jongdae says and feels like maybe, maybe he shouldn’t have broken up with Yixing when he did but it seemed as good a time as any. Yixing didn’t exactly make a big deal out of it.

So far, no one has really made a big deal out of it, simply stating ‘maybe next time it’ll work out’. Whether it’s a hopeful interaction that turns into a one night stand or Jongdae going out on a limb.

“He was too perfect for our Jongdae,” Baekhyun says sagely, nodding his head and patting Jongdae a bit on the shoulder. He smiles in that sympathetic consoling way that makes Jongdae want to punch him in the mouth. “You know what you need?”

“An attitude adjustment,” Kyungsoo says and Jongdae frowns at him. Kyungsoo makes no expression back, which is almost more frustrating, especially when Chanyeol’s arm is draped over Kyungsoo’s shoulders like it’s given purpose is to be there.

“A job?” Chanyeol suggests instead and Jongdae frowns at him instead. He’s trying. He can’t help it that he’s holding out for something better than a shit entry level position because he knows he’s worth more than grunt work. “Because you can’t live off the dregs of side jobs and Kyungsoo’s generosity.”

“Your generosity,” Kyungsoo corrects and Chanyeol smiles a little appeasingly at his boyfriend. “I refuse to let him abuse my humanity any more. You, on the other hand-”

“A man,” Baekhyun declares louder than the others, and hits Jongdae on the back. Hard.

“Ow,” Jongdae says pointedly. “I don’t need abuse, I need advice.”

“I provide both,” Baekhyun tells him with a delighted smile. “But yeah, a job is also important. You should get that so I don't have to hear you whine about how mean the utility bill is every month.”

“I don’t whine,” Jongdae says emphatically.

“You’re whining right now,” Kyungsoo interjects and Jongdae sighs, sitting back in the chair of the small diner they’d cornered him into today. “Eat your fries. They’re all you have now that you’ve dumped your perfect boyfriend.”

“There’s a job fair in a few weeks,” Chanyeol provides, pulling out his phone and searching through the mass of shit he keeps on it. “I think it’s in the center of the city, and should have a lot of opportunities.” He glances up. “I can sign you up if you want.”

Jongdae frowns, the idea of being stuffed into a suit and circling around tables of companies, trying every second to impress everyone not exactly appealing to him. He’d almost rather stick with working in cafes and standing behind bookstore registers if they didn't make him feel so suffocated.

“It’ll be a great place to meet people,” Baekhyun says cheerfully, patting Jongdae again on the shoulder, nodding and smiling.

“Or a job,” Kyungsoo adds.

“Someone nice and decent and boring, just like you,” Baekhyun continues.

“Or a job,” Chanyeol says, giving Jongdae a pointed look.

“I think I might try to find a job on my own,” Jongdae begins, trying to shake off Baekhyun who is now rubbing weird circles into his back and looking thoroughly aware that he’s being annoying. Aware and extremely pleased by it. “You know, drop off some resumes again and try my luck.”

“Great,” Chanyeol says and smiles. “So I’ll sign you up then. Both days?”

“Oh, come on,” Jongdae sighs, throwing down the fry he just picked up. Jongdae is okay with meeting people, he really is, but being shoved in a stuffy room full of business people and explanation booths with too many pamphlets? Jongdae could go without the anxiety attack. “It’ll be like Hell.”

“You’re going,” Kyungsoo says, one eyebrow raising in definition. “In a suit.”

“At least I look great in a suit,” Jongdae concedes, though he still frowns.

“Excellent, so you’ll look great when you meet someone,” Baekhyun says, and finally pulls away from half molesting Jongdae’s back to answer his phone. “First impressions are important. Be yourself, but not embarrassing, so kind of be yourself but without the bad stuff. Or just look nice.”

“And you can get a job easier if you look nice,” Chanyeol cuts in and smiles reassuringly as Baekhyun leans away to answer his call. “Just, you know, don’t fuck up.”

“Your faith in me is so reassuring,” Jongdae says and leans away as Baekhyun begins talking loudly over the phone.

“Good luck,” Chanyeol tells him, and gives him a thumbs up with a smile as Kyungsoo smiles at him in a less enthusiastic manner but which is still reassuring.

“You’re not going to let me off on this, are you,” Jongdae says and Chanyeol smiles wider as Kyungsoo’s smile mimics his boyfriends, spreading his mouth into the cute heart shape.

“Nope,” Kyungsoo says and leans back into Chanyeol’s arm. “Not a chance.”


๑


In perhaps the slightly less desirable area of the city, on the fourth floor of an apartment building, the light turns on to a single apartment and flickers into life. With a sigh, Jongdae drops onto the couch in his living room, the shoulder bag from work hitting the floor with a dull thud.

It’s been a long day, and his mouth is dry and sticky with exhaustion, feeling spread too thin. Work was long today, and the extra phone call from his parents on the way home the check up, see how he was doing, asking what he’d been up to lately, had made his stomach twist. Reaching later and later into his twenties, Jongdae knows it’s getting closer to reaching the edge. Most everyone is supposed to find their soul mate by this time, and most everyone he knows has.

It’s general knowledge that by the time people hit thirty, they’ve found or met their soul mate, the person they’re going to be with for the rest of their lives, and Jongdae is twenty seven and pushing forward fast.

Jongdae’s parents had met in college, and it had been easy for them to just move into it and were married by the time his mother was twenty five. His brother had met his fiancé in university as well and all around him, his friends have been pairing off as he watched and waited. There are exceptions in all cases. Yixing had supposedly met his soul mate while he was dating Jongdae, the day when his wrist marked red and then faded, still sticking in Jongdae’s mind, as if the breath that had caught when he’d seen it had never returned.

It’s hard to ignore especially when his best friend, Baekhyun, had met Zitao when he was in middle school and the two have been together since those first shy smiles and held hands. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had met in the years right after university but it had been like stepping into comfort for them, and Jongdae can’t help but feel a twist in his stomach every time he thinks about it.

Finding a soul mate is something everyone does, something they’re supposed to do, the marks on their wrists indication of it, just the slow count down with a progressively darkening color until they meet the person they’re supposed to be with.

Almost everyone Jongdae knows has a left wrist bare of any mark and someone to call theirs and hold onto, that jerk in their system telling them as much as the sudden red color against their skin.

Letting out a sigh and too tired to even make dinner, Jongdae lies back, sprawled over the couch of his living space (different from the sleeping space on the other side of the room and the cooking space in the corner). Frowning, he raises his wrist and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the dark brown line wrapped around his wrist like one of Yixing’s many bracelets, almost black in color and feels a twist in his heart. It’s like every day, it gets darker and darker but never changes.

“It’s perfectly normal,” the doctor had told him when Jongdae had a moment of panic after Yixing’s wrist had flashed red and his hadn’t. “You’re just a late bloomer, nothing to worry about.”

Except he does worry about it, the anxiety making his mind wander between work shifts and making his smile tight when he meets new people, nervous as to if this is it.

Even if it never is.

From his bag, his phone lets out a small muffled quack at him, alerting him to a text message. Rolling over a bit, he digs it out, opening up the flip phone to read.

Chanyeol: I signed you up! Next Weekend! Two day convention! Make sure to ask your boss to get the time off this time. ^◡^*

Dropping his phone onto the floor, Jongdae groans and rolls over, snuggling into the couch, the idea of going to a job convention for three days the least appealing thing on his mind right now. Sure, it will probably beat standing behind a cash register of a bookshop and listening to his old boss wheeze about all the war novels that the youth today don’t appreciate, but it doesn’t make the prospect any more appealing.

Though, he supposes as he burrows a bit more into the couch, trying to find a stable job where his boss doesn’t put the wellbeing of his science fiction section over his employees might not be a bad idea.

The smile on Baekhyun’s face drifts into his mind, and he thinks of his best friend suggesting that he might kill two birds with one stone and find someone as well as find a job.

Peeking at the line around his wrist, Jongdae lets himself feel that nervous rush of excitement and the small little voice in his heart whispers what if?


๑


The worst thing about situations like this isn’t the suits, the fluorescent lights, or the standing and waiting with anxiety creeping up everyone’s back so torturously it’s like slowly being inserted on a pole. The worst part is all of that on top of the people who try to act like they’re not all stuck in a stress torture chamber for almost ten hours. All of them, standing around in suits that get too hot in the stuffy air of the atriums, smiling like they have a dead animal in their pocket and are trying not to let on it’s there.

The worst part is standing in line with all of these people and contemplating if they consider you a potential friend and buddy to commiserate with or a severe threat among a competition for a decent salary and working conditions. Jongdae can’t decide if he’s more worried about the woman in front of him who keeps mumbling introductions over and over under her breath or about if he printed out enough resumes. Primarily, he just hopes that the organizational unit of the event didn’t mess his name up.

Jongdae already spend one college orientation with Jungday Kim written on a name tag. He doesn’t want a repeat, especially not when he’s trying to find a job and hoping to impress future employers.

His phone vibrates against his leg with a soft duck quacking sound and Jongdae reaches into his pocket, digging it out. The low budget flip piece of shit phone flashes a notification light that he has a new message. Or a few, considering he’s been ignoring it for the past half hour and the woman in front of him jerks to look back every time his phone quacks.

Kyungsoo: I sincerely hope you didn’t switch back the edits I made before you printed out copies of your resume and cover letters.

Jongdae briefly considers typing back “copies?!?!!?” just to piss Kyungsoo off but instead settles to flip to the other messages, knowing no reply at all will annoy Kyungsoo more. He finds a message from Chanyeol, which is essentially ‘Good Luck’ and an enthusiastic assortment of emoticons, and a few messages from Baekhyun telling him to ‘get a job! or a man! Go big or go home(less)’.

your support is touching, Jongdae types back to Baekhyun, pressing send and then stuffing his phone into his pocket, fingers tightening around the handle of his slightly beat up briefcase. Well, his dad’s briefcase, considering Jongdae can’t afford shiny new things.

Which is why he’s here to get a job. Jobs are important, just like bathing and singing the national anthem at sports events.

His phone quacks with another reply and this time the woman in front of him turns around, looking directly at him instead of glancing over her shoulder. Jongdae settles for smiling as nicely as he can, hoping to avoid too much assessment as a potential target, or worse, threat. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae answers casually, straightening his shoulders and trying to look ‘friendly’.

“Is it quacking?” the woman asks, one eyebrow arching up slightly as the man behind Jongdae begins murmuring to the woman beside him something about name tags and pins.

“Yeah,” Jongdae says, feeling self conscious about his phone alarm for the first time in his life. His phone has quacked since he was in High School and Baekhyun and he had switched ringtones daily for a week before settling on ‘quack’ and ‘neigh’. Jongdae smiles more. “It’s a duck.”

“Why is your phone a duck?” the woman asks and the eyebrow goes higher, though there isn’t hostility in her voice. Jongdae will take that as a plus.

“You mean all phones aren’t ducks?” Jongdae replies without thinking and the woman stills, full on staring at him.

If Jongdae had expected a reply, he doesn’t get one, the woman turning around and ignoring him with a straightened back that says ‘do not communicate with’ in volumes.

When Jongdae finally gets to the front of the line, his collar feeling a little tight, he gets handed his nametag on a lanyard and a big canvas bag with giant comic sans font writing. The woman in front of him grabs her bag and nametag as fast as she can and walks swiftly and determinately into the atrium ahead of him, leaving Jongdae to look down at the nametag in his hands reading JONG DAE KIM and feeling a nervous laugh bubble somewhere above his pancreas.

This is clearly the start of a good day for him, sarcasm and all.


๑


After wandering around to the various company show booths, all with mild degrees of competent decoration, Jongdae finally sits himself down into an interview chair opposite a pretty well dressed woman and another young man feeling nervous but hopeful.

“Good morning,” the woman says, and sounds nice and cheerful to both him and his companion. “I hope you two young gentlemen are doing well today.”

“Fine,” Jongdae says and smiles. Smiling is important.

“I’m lovely, though not as lovely as yourself,” says the other man and gives a confident but pleasant laugh at the responding smile the woman gives him. “How are you doing?”

Jongdae tries not to look at the other man. So far, he’s managed to appear smarmier than Baekhyun, which Jongdae didn’t think was possible. Yet here he sits corrected.

“Okay,” the woman says, looking between the two of them. “First question.” Jongdae takes in a deep breath, the nervous flutter starting in his chest. “Why do you think you’re the best person for this job and what do you think you can offer this company?”

Jongdae sits, his mind zapping blank as the woman stares at him patiently. “Well,” he says, sitting up a little more and wetting his lips. “I’m a very positive and hard working person.” Jongdae knows he had more to offer when he looked over potential answers the previous night.

“I see,” says the woman and writes something down. Jongdae tries to smile, tries to remember how to run a proper interview when his nerves begin to jump up and down under his skin and the guy beside him begins to smile like a creepy man in a bar. “What was your biggest accomplishment and failure at your previous job?”

Jongdae thinks of the time a bookshelf fell on him as he tried to deflect a wasp two weeks ago and then thinks to when he managed to get a cat unstuck from between two sheets of greenhouse plastic in a home and gardens center two years previous. How to work either of those stories to his advantage though has Jongdae drawing a blank.

The woman writes something down.

Interviews are the worst.

Walking out of the small tent area where the interviews are held and feeling lead sinking into his lungs, Jongdae lets out a long suffering breath right before it’s half knocked out of him as a hand slams against his back. Coughing and turning around, he sees the other man, who had swooped in with outstanding answers and qualifications for the job, grinning at him. “Nothing to feel bad about,” the man says and winks at him. “All interviews are meant to be scary, especially for first timers.”

“I’ve done interviews before,” Jongdae says. It’s 9:24 and he’s already exhausted.

“Wait, really?” the man says, and then has the courtesy to laugh in Jongdae’s face. “Could have fooled me.”

Jongdae takes it back, this is the start of the shittiest day of his life.


๑


As it turns out, interviewing at companies all day isn’t what Jongdae thought it would be.

It’s worse.

There comes to be a point when walking around the various information booths and scanning down the requirements and opportunities for working at these large corporations where the overall feeling of soul crushing despondency consumes his typically optimistic attitude.

How’s it going? Kyungsoo texts him after interview number sevenfuckingteen and Jongdae doesn’t even know what he qualifies for anymore aside from ‘perpetually confused.’

Murder me and make it look legal Jongdae texts back and then pockets his phone, closing his eyes and sighing once before squaring his shoulders, trying to prepare himself for the next round of potentially awkward questions.

So far, Jongdae has met a large assortment of people as he slowly navigates his way around the atrium and siphons off the resumes and cover letters he’d printed out to various companies in hopes that they might hire him for something decent. People who take themselves far too seriously, people who look more terrified than him, one girl who spoke no languages Jongdae recognized from Earth, and a very wide variety of assholes in all shapes and dispositions.

Some of them were cocky, some of them were tall and cocky, some of them wore glasses and were educated and annoying, and there were a few entitled sexists as well, just to add a bit more variety from the typical brand of ‘douche ho’. To top it off, all of them apparently felt the need to socially attempt to engage him and Jongdae has had enough assholes to last him the rest of his life, possibly even longer.

If Jongdae had a dollar for every asshole he’d met today, he’d be able to pay his apartment bill but still be just as pissed off.

A tap at his shoulder has him turning around, wishing that the giant clocks on the main walls were moving faster and he could give himself the excuse to take lunch now. He could possibly get severely ill so he can leave. Or he could choke, that might work.

“Hi?” Jongdae says, blinking at the pretty young woman in the gray blazer behind him.

She smiles, tilting her head to the side as her nicely styled hair bounces just above her shoulders. “Hi, are you waiting in line for the interview?”

Someone nice. Thank the stars.

“I am,” Jongdae says, smiling as he turns and feels a small glimmer of relief at the friendly smile. “Are you going in as well?”

“And praying for the best,” she says with a little laugh. Her smile is cute. “Who knows, maybe we’ll be lucky and get to be co-workers in the future.”

“Who knows,” Jongdae says and laughs back. It’s nice, in the atmosphere of all the tension, to find someone who isn’t comparing themselves with him and telling him about how overqualified they are for all these jobs. “What are you interviewing for?”

“Entry level,” she says and tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “What are you interviewing for?”

Anything. Jongdae knows he’s supposed to choose a field and interview for it but after reading through the list of jobs needed at DF Electric Jongdae is pretty sure they just need someone who is sober and breathing. “Probably the financial division.” The young woman laughs, and doesn’t try to hide it at all, making Jongdae laugh as well, though not exactly in humor. “What?”

“Nothing, I just thought you’d be going into something where they saw your face,” she says. She makes a vague motion at her mouth. “You know, because you have a smiling mouth. The edges go up like a kitty.” Jongdae hasn’t really thought much about it before and she starts laughing again. “What happens when you try to frown? Do you smile then too?” Jongdae isn’t smiling any more. “I bet people get confused when you frown at them and they think you’re smiling. I’ll bet that’d be so awkward.”

“I should just go into customer service then I guess,” Jongdae says. Never mind, he doesn’t like talking to people at all anymore. “I’d probably be great there.”

“At least no one could tell if you were pissed,” the woman says and then promptly bursts out laughing. Jongdae frowns and she still laughs and goes “oh my god, you’re trying to frown right now!” and at least five people turn to look at them.

As luck would have it, right then the representatives of DF Electric choose that moment to look to them for their interview.

“Hi,” Jongdae says to the woman who looks amused but surprised and the man who appears to have a lemon stuck in his teeth from the look on his face. “I hope you’re having a lovely day.”

“She certainly looks like she is,” the woman from DF Electric says with a nod to the young woman still laughing at Jongdae every time she looks at him.

“Yes,” Jongdae says, giving up. “Apparently my face is funny.”

“Must be the receding hair line,” the man from DF Electric says right before looking down at his clipboard of paper as if he hasn’t just said something potentially very rude.

The young woman in the gray jacket lets out a new peal of laughter behind him and gasps out “Oh my god, he does have one!”

Remember that time Tao accidentally punched me in the face and off a ledge into a lake?

That was hysterical Baekhyun texts back as Jongdae walks away from DF Electric with the confidence of a squashed ant. why?

This is worse. Jongdae texts back and gets a cheer up, kitten lips in return.


๑


By the time lunch time finally hits, Jongdae has figured he may as well just settle for bookshops and small restaurant side jobs and getting cats unstuck from greenhouse plastic if it means he never has to deal with this. It’s been possibly the worst day of interviews he’s ever had.

Interviews themselves are always horrible, designed to terrify and make the subject feel a lesser person, and after a whole morning after them, even the sympathetic smile of the woman behind the temporary deli hadn’t lightened Jongdae’s mood much. The sandwich he’s halfway through eating does little to really boost him either, mostly dry and bland, like the rest of his life.

this was a terrible idea Jongdae texts Baekhyun, knowing at least Baekhyun will try to distract him whereas Kyungsoo will probably try to be practical and remind him that ‘he has to face the world some time.’

Honestly, you don’t have to have a big fancy ‘real person’ job quacks back on his phone right before another message pops up on the screen. you don’t have to get a grown up job like Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. Do what you want to do.

Jongdae has no idea what he really wants to do. He has a lot of ideas, but so do seven year olds. The bad part is Jongdae sometimes feels like seven year old have better ideas than he does. For example, this job convention thing was a terrible idea for him. No seven year old would ever subject themselves to this.

Have you met anyone exciting?

Interesting? yes. Decent representations of the human race? No. Jongdae sighs as his mind flashes over all the people from the morning. The woman he met at first. The guy in the first interview. The perpetually surprised man Jongdae almost gave a chance before he started preaching gospel and his friend smacked him in the neck with his phone. And, of course, the laughing girl and the hot interviewer who pointed out the fact that his hairline may be a bit higher than others (but never receding).

So no one up to Jongdae standards then. Meaning ‘perfect but also impractical as fuck. Baekhyun texts back.

I refuse to sod!?>jhbkrwaiofnd0-708lkv@%*0eq)

That text never sends to Baekhyun, mostly because just as Jongdae is typing it, a sudden waterfall of extremely hot brown liquid with the clear intention to scald his lap descends upon him. With a yelp that is more of a shriek (he will deny later), Jongdae rockets out of his chair as the scalding liquid finds it’s intended target of his crotch and is upsettingly painful.

“Holy Shit!” Jongdae half yells, dropping his phone as a jolt shocks through him and he tries frantically to brush the coffee from himself. “What the fuck!”

“Oh damn!” pipes up a voice directly behind him and Jongdae snaps to the new voice, ready to administer a tongue lashing but a little distracted by the still burning liquid seeping against his thighs. “Wow, my bad, man,” says the man just behind him holding a now empty Styrofoam cup and not looking nearly apologetic enough for Jongdae’s liking. “You okay?”

The man winces as he looks Jongdae up and down, half of his face scrunching up as Jongdae scrambles out of his seat, trying to get away from the coffee that is now also pooling in the seat of the chair. “No,” Jongdae snaps, sparing a brief glare at the man before looking back down at his ruined pair of pants. “No, I am not okay.”

His skin is burning, hot embarrassment rushing through him and he can feel his heart racing from the shock of being poured coffee on. Great, just great.

“Here,” says the other man as Jongdae grabs the semi-used napkins that had come with his sandwich. Their hands brush as the other guy reaches for the napkin dispenser on the table and Jongdae flinches back, the touch smarting and unexpected. “Let me help you out. It was my coffee after all, so-“

“Do you make it a habit of pouring coffee on all the people you meet?” Jongdae grumbles, glancing up only once to frown very pointedly at the other man before he tries to mop himself up. His pants are black, which is good, but Jongdae also looks like he questionably wet himself, which is decidedly not good. His skin is still buzzing at the horrible feeling of wet fabric and still stinging coffee burns.

The other man lets out a laugh, shaking auburn bangs from his face as he crouches down, pressing a napkin to Jongdae’s thigh and looking up at him with a weird sort of smile to his lips that is pretty in a way and has Jongdae’s mind stuttering. And then the man looks back at his pants and his hand with the napkin presses right into the inner portion of Jongdae’s groin and that’s far more intimate than Jongdae is ever prepared for after someone’s just poured coffee on him.

His brain whirs, clicks and Jongdae steps back as fast as he can. It’s kind of like being burned again, but more along the lines of Jongdae wanting to get away from the man who’s just been patting his dick. In public. With a creepy as fuck smile. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jongdae demands, temper rising.

To be honest, there was very little between Jongdae and his temper so giving into it now seems as good a time as any.

“Well, I was helping you dry your pants, but now I’m just squatting here awkwardly,” the man says and shrugs at him. The nerve. “How about that?”

The gears in Jongdae’s brain work faster. “You did that on purpose,” he says and feels his temper boil over at the man half crouched in front of him.

“What?”

“You’re one of those coffee perverts,” Jongdae snaps, now legitimately angry. He’s heard about these guys before, who go around and spill drinks on unsuspecting people to give the illusion of helping them as they feel them up. Horrible disgusting freaks. “You were trying to feel me up!”

“For the record,” the guy says. “I cared a lot about that cup of coffee.” His face does something that Jongdae is too affronted to process right now. With everything else today, he also now has a coffee pervert to deal with. And stained pants which will now, probably, chafe. “I had no intention to spill it on you.” Jongdae can smell the bullshit coming off him like a sharp tang at the tip of his tongue as his face heats in anger.

The sounds of the atrium are all still loud. There are people still staring at them, some of them turning to whisper together, probably about them. Jongdae has coffee on his pants, looking like he’s wet himself, and has just been felt up by a pervert.

The pervert sighs, and shakes his bangs from his face again. He has a nice face in all honestly. It’s a shame it has to be wasted on a pervert.

“Look, I’m sorry for sacrificing my coffee to your lap,” the pervert says and Jongdae bristles as his nerves sizzle hot under his skin. “In all honesty your lap should be honored, I was really looking forward to that coffee.” He sighs and Jongdae can’t tell if he wants to yell incoherent swears or punch him. “You know, seeing as my coffee is now given to the benefit of your pants, you could buy me a new one.”

Jongdae doesn’t know the coffee pervert. Though, he considers he is definitely validated for punching him in the face.


๑


I fucking hate everything.

Kyungsoo: is this the normal hating of everything or should I actually be concerned?

Jongdae sighs and buries his hand into his hair, tugging at it in frustration and upset, biting down on his lip as his knuckles still smart. He feels exhausted, like he’s just run a marathon, and his pants are still damp and smell of strong coffee. tell your boyfriend I hate him. A lot.

Kyungsoo: bad day?

Jongdae is pretty sure what he wants to say won’t fit in a text, but the prospect of calling Kyungsoo comes with the threat of accidentally choking up. I give up. he types back instead. I’m going on welfare and adopting a cat.

Kyungsoo’s number flashes on the screen, calling him, and Jongdae sighs before closing his phone, putting his head in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s not been a good day, and the last thing he needs is to get verbally upset over the phone because of a coffee pervert and a swarm of assholes outside.


๑


The first thing Jongdae wants to do when he gets home is lie down on the floor and never get up again. The actual first thing he does is shuck the coffee stained pants and the rest of his clothing to get a proper shower.

He’d managed to last through another few hours of the convention after his pants had dried to the point it didn’t look like he’d wet himself. He’d done a few more interviews which hadn’t gone as terribly as the morning had, which was fortunate. He glimpsed the coffee pervert a few times, but made sure to keep himself hidden, the tremor in his chest of residual anger driving him to avoid at all costs.

All in all, a basic summary of the day would be ‘terrible’. Horribly, upsettingly, terrible as a whole experience.

Jongdae still has tomorrow to look forward to, but doubts he’ll get any calls tonight from prospective companies wanting to hire him for anything. He may as well not go.

Scratching a hand through his hair, he lumbers into the bathroom, tired and aching and very much wanting to wash away everything until he can’t remember the day. He barely glances at his reflection in the mirror, taking in the mussed up styling he’d spent too much time on this morning, to the tired lines under his eyes and the red line around his wrist-

Jongdae stops.

Jongdae stares.

Jongdae ceases breathing.

“Fuck,” Jongdae spits out as he drops his hand from his hair and grabs his wrist.

There, bold and bright against his skin, is the same line that he’s always had around his wrist standing in vibrant deep scarlet, practically a beacon. Heart hammering in his chest and something that feels like a zoo trying to get out of his stomach, Jongdae stares at the line that has finally, after all his waiting, turned red.

Meaning today is the day he met his soul mate.

“Oh fuck,” whimpers out of his mouth as his hands begin to shake, all of the faces and people he met today flashing through his mind from the job convention. “Are you kidding me?” he asks his wrist. His wrist sadly offers no answer to him, the red line just there and reminding Jongdae just in case he forgot what today is. “Now?”

Today was horrible. Today Jongdae had been too distracted getting ready with a long sleeve shirt and a proper blazer to interview all day to glance at his wrist this morning. Today Jongdae had stood in a stuffy atrium all day not once thinking to check and see if the mark around his wrist had changed. He had enough on his mind with interview questions and resume copies.

It’s been so long Jongdae is just used to the mark being the same, always the same, and always waiting.

Yet apparently today, when Jongdae hadn’t even been paying attention, he’d met his soul mate. Of all days for this to happen.

The breathing in his chest hastens to a near frantic rhythm as the reality of the situation sets in.

Jongdae met his soul mate, the person he’s been searching for almost his whole life and waiting to meet, and he has no idea who it is.

As if a nerve snaps, Jongdae is stumbling from the bathroom, nearly tripping over the door jam as he hurtles towards the couch and his briefcase, digging for his phone.

“Baekhyun!” Jongdae manages to sound frighteningly like a wheezing cat.

“Jongdae!” Baekhyun answers. “Can this wait? I’m a little busy. Tao is here and-“

“I met him,” Jongdae cuts him off. Jongdae doesn’t give a fuck if Tao and Baekhyun are in the middle of fucking, this is important. “Or her. Whatever! I met the person!”

“You met who?” The confusion is unacceptable.

“I met my soul mate,” Jongdae says quickly, the brief rush of that admission making him giddy before the crushing drop of not knowing who it is drags him back into the pits of panic. “Oh fuck.”

“Really?” Baekhyun sounds too optimistic and delighted for Jongdae’s current upset state. “Congratulations on your life. What’s he like?”

“I-“ That panicked knot clenches until Jongdae feels like curling up into himself. He has no idea. He’s met his soul mate and he doesn’t know who it is. His mind flashes over the people from today, the stress on everyone’s faces and stretching over shoulders and all the dick bags of people he encountered. He lets out a soft whine. “I don’t know.”

There is a silence that Jongdae really doesn't need right now because it sounds like judging disbelief. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t know!” Jongdae repeats with a snap and a yell. “I don't know, Baekhyun. I met my goddamn soul mate and I have no idea who it is. Why did we all have to wear suits?”

“Oh,” Baekhyun says as Jongdae gives up and just lets his shaking breathing take over, pressing the heel of his hand into his closed eyes and collapsing onto the couch. It isn’t until his bare ass hits the cushions he remembers he’d been about to take a shower. “Well, that’s kind of frustrating.”

“Why today?” Jongdae squeezes his eyes shut. No one, no one he met today was even remotely anything like the kind of person he could ever imagine being soul mates with.

Yixing was someone who was like a soul mate.

Li Yin was like a soul mate for him.

Joonmyun, before he got married, was who he’d seen as a soul mate.

Not the woman who snubbed his quacking phone and the jerk at the first interview or the girl who laughed at his smile and the man commenting on his hairline. He thinks of the coffee pervert and lets out a dry sob.

“Why did it have to be today of all days?” It’s like a horrible twist of fate, where Jongdae is the protagonist in a terrible satire and has no idea how to get off stage. “What do I do?”

“You’re asking me for advice?” asks Baekhyun, the surprise so stark in his voice it has Jongdae opening his eyes. Jongdae is currently naked on a couch and attempting to have a coherent conversation while his internal dialogue is primarily a stream of profanity. He pulls his hand from his face, staring at the thin line that for his whole life had been deepening shades of brown.

The red is so vibrant and strong it’s almost like it pulses with the beats of Jongdae’s frantically beating heart, heavy in his chest.

“Yes,” Jongdae says, and swallows with difficulty. Everything sticks. “I am.”

Baekhyun sighs over the line, it coming across as crackly and static. “You really are something, Jongdae.”

“Not helpful,” Jongdae grumbles at him, eyes tracing the line of the mark. Over twenty seven years of waiting and this is the climax. “What kind of best friend are you?”

“A best friend who denies a blow job to listen to you be upset,” Baekhyun replies easily. “Look at it this way, if you met them at the convention today, you can probably meet them again if you go tomorrow.”

Jongdae thinks about today, about all the ‘lovely’ people he met and lets out a long rising whine as he flops onto the couch.


๑


It’s fifteen minutes to nine in the morning and Jongdae is standing in line again, wearing a different shirt and a different pair of pants, but feeling no less nervous. It’s fifteen minutes to nine in the morning on a Sunday and Jongdae only has a few copies of his resume. His phone is in his pocket fully charged, and the nervous buzzing under his skin is completely unrelated to name tags and job interviews and has everything to do with the now clearly visible red line circling his wrist.

His phone beeps and Jongdae reads a message from Kyungsoo saying Good luck and remember, breathing is important.

The previous evening had seen no calls from companies interested in asking him back for an interview, instead silent repetitions of the people Jongdae had met at the convention, trying to hold onto the fleeting images of faces. The previous evening had been an hour and a half conversation with Kyungsoo after a very long shower and Jongdae trying to figure out a game plan.

Today is Jongdae not looking for a job at all as he stands in line praying that the people he met yesterday are all here again.

If Jongdae is optimistic, he met about twenty people yesterday. If Jongdae is pessimistic as he stands with a slightly jumping heart in his chest, he met over one hundred and his soul mate may not even be here today. At ten minutes to nine in the morning, Jongdae’s fingers cross in his pockets as he hopes that his soul mate is here and maybe even looking for him as well.

The girl from the previous morning isn’t standing in front of Jongdae in line, nor is she anywhere around him when looks for her, and none of the faces around him are the faces of people he remembers from yesterday. Jongdae gets his nametag from the from admissions and slips the lanyard around his neck, letting out a short breath and placing a hand over his chest, trying to keep his fluttering heart steady.

He looks down at his wrist, bared plain and easy to see today, and takes another breath, trying to let the air ground him. He has to find him today. Or her.

Jongdae doesn’t know, he just knows he has to find his soul mate.

With that thought, he steps through the doors into the Atrium again with only a few resumes in his bag and praying silently to find a wrist to match his own and the spark of a touch.


๑


Jongdae finds the woman who stood beside him in line the day before and frowned at his quacking phone. She has no line around her wrist, instead a ring on her finger and a frown on her face. “I’m getting married next month,” she says flatly and Jongdae offers her a weak congratulations before she stalks off.

Jongdae finds the man he first interviewed with, just as greasy of a smile and a playful edge to his eye. His wrist is bare, the mark vanished, but apparently he’s open. “We’re not serious,” he tells Jongdae. “Open relationship, see?

Jongdae finds some of the boring assholes who insulted and were condescending to him while he sat nervously for interviews. Only one of them has a mark, and it’s still brown, and he’s still in University. “Fuck,” says Jongdae when the young man sees his mark and starts laughing.

“You found her and lost her?” the young fuck wheezes at him, his suit looking obnoxiously good on his tall figure.

Jongdae considers throwing back a remark, but the presence of the other men and women around the young shit having him turning away, pushing down the crawling feeling in his throat.

The clock on the wall ticks closer to noon and Jongdae’s time slips through his fingers as his heart seems to shake in his chest. The mark around his wrist isn’t as red and he begins to randomly say various select profanity under his breath as he looks for familiar faces and sees none.

“Wow, language,” says a voice behind him and Jongdae turns sharply, the motion sending a spike of pain up his neck and he winces. “See? That’s what you get for swearing.”

“You!” Jongdae unfortunately doesn’t know the young woman’s name. But he remembers her face, the cute pretty face which had smiled so nicely right before laughing at his smile-inclined mouth and then hairline. She smiles now, her hair pulled back from her face and in a white blouse, replacing the blazer.

“Me,” she says and laughs. “Hi. Are you here for a second day of interviews? I hardly doubly they’d appreciate such colorful language, even from forever smiles.”

“Well,” Jongdae begins, and his eyes stray to where she’s holding her shoulder tote bag , wrist bared at her shoulder. “I didn’t get any interviews,” Jongdae finishes, his tone drooping as his brief rush of suspense dwindles rapidly upon seeing no mark around her wrist. Just a simple silver bracelet.

Now he’s seen the laughing insulting girl, he’s seen just about everyone he met the first part of his day. And they’ve all been absent of a matching mark around their wrists, leaving him shaky inside and anxious.

It’s one thing to be anxious about job interviews. Being anxious about losing his soul mate is an entirely different kind of anxiety, because the other one he could manage, and this one Jongdae feels like he’s going to fall apart.

“Nice bracelet,” Jongdae says, waving to it vaguely and stepping back.

The girl’s eyes widen before she catches on and she looks down and lets out a small lilting laugh. “Oh! This,” she says, shaking her wrist. “I got it from my boyfriend.”

“Pretty.” Jongdae is talking to a college grad girl who has already found her soul mate and Jongdae apparently found his but didn’t know. Jongdae has today to find them, and so far has had no luck whatsoever.

“You okay?” the girl asks, but Jongdae is walking away, that clenching around his chest getting worse as he digs his phone out of his pocket. The clock on the wall reads past noon now but the last thing Jongdae wants to do is put something in a stomach that is writhing horribly.

“Damage report,” answers over the phone in Kyungsoo’s easy tone as Jongdae walks away from the food area. “I haven’t heard from you all day after that text and you haven’t yelled excitedly yet.”

“I can’t find him. Her. The person.” Jongdae’s steps are faster, his breathing hastening as well as he brushes past the people by the company booths and feels panic begin to curl in his stomach intensely. “I can’t find my soul mate, they’re not here, I’m never going to find them.”

“Okay, breathe,” Kyungsoo tells him, words slow.

“I can’t, I’m having a panic attack about being single forever and dying unfulfilled and alone,” Jongdae snaps through the phone, nearly bumping into people as he makes for the bathrooms as fast as he can. Jongdae has never really thought about what would happen if he got to his soul mate day and then didn’t know who it was, if he missed them, like now.

The whole thing being ripped out from under him is overwhelming. He’s had so much stuff he’s let just slip by, undecided and waiting for this moment, just in case, and now he’s fucked up the one day he never wanted to go wrong.

“Don’t have a panic attack, you’ll hurt yourself,” Kyungsoo tells him, though there is a definite note of worry in his voice now. “Where are you right now?”

“Walking,” Jongdae says and ducks past another person. “Walking to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says and Jongdae turns to see no line for the men’s restrooms. “Just get there and sit down and keep talking. And breathing.”

“Your demands are too high,” Jongdae says as he steps into the restroom and ducks into the nearest stall. The writhing in his stomach peaks, and he chokes, putting out a hand to brace himself on the wall. He feels like he’s going to be sick. “Kyungsoo, what if I can’t find him? Her? Him?”

“You’ll find him,” Kyungsoo says. “Just take a moment, close your eyes and trying to focus on breathing.”

His stomach turns, skin feeling hot and the shake in his heart is getting worse, but Jongdae closes his eyes. He tries to breathe in, a deep breath to fill his lungs and concentrate on it, block out the panic and the building anxiety.

“Good,” Kyungsoo says over the line and Jongdae breathes out. “Feel better?”

“No,” Jongdae bites back and squeezes his eyes shut as his throat clenches horribly. He feels tight and shaky and cold and hot all at once, as if he’s just shuffled a very long distance on a shag carpet and has enough static charge to power a computer. “God, I feel like I’m gonna fall apart.”

“Did you see all the people you properly met yesterday?” Kyungsoo asks, and then adds “keep breathing.”

Jongdae’s mind whirs, going over all the people that he’d come away with the faces in his head of, the people who he remembers meeting. He’s seen almost all of them, aside from the interviewer who told him his hair was receding and his female companion. There was the woman at the food court.

And the coffee pervert.

Jongdae groans, his stomach turning again as he thinks over the incident yesterday and the horrible experience before he thinks of the last few people he met, who were vague, but better. Though, Jongdae considers, anyone would seem better after a coffee pervert.

“Who’s left?” Kyungsoo asks. “And I don’t hear deep yoga breathing.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t do yoga,” Jongdae grumbles and leans his head against the stall, resting his weight against the cool metal and keeping his eyes closed. Breathing feels like a task in and of itself, his skin still tingling and feeling too hot even if he didn’t wear the full suit today. “Only a few.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says slowly. “So you only have a few more to look for.”

“But what if they’re not there?” Jongdae’s stomach turns, hard and making him wince, the rise at the back of his throat nearly making him gag. He’s never been this anxious before, and this is a whole new level of Hell. This makes yesterday look like a walk in the park. “What if they’re not there and I go out there and can’t find them? What if I never end up actually meeting my soul mate? I blew it and they’re gone and I’m never going to find them, and we’ll never know we’re supposed to be together and I’ve fucked it all up?”

“Okay, okay, stop,” Kyungsoo says and Jongdae realizes he’s been almost shouting, his voice hurting and breaths harsh. “First of all, they may also be looking for you. You’re not the only one who discovered they missed their soul mate yesterday, so remember that. Also, even if you don’t find them today, then remember that there are people who end up with someone who isn’t their soul mate and are happy and can fall in love and-“

“But I don’t want that,” Jongdae cuts Kyungsoo off, the tightening in his chest making his voice crack. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to find my soul mate because they’re mine and I’m supposed to be with them and they’re my match and balance and perfect for me. It doesn’t work like that.”

There is silence on the other and Jongdae almost thinks he’s accidentally hung up, his panting breaths meeting unbroken silence. He pulls his phone from his ear to check and sees the call still connected and then feels his breathing stop. “Kyungsoo?”

“Then you will find them,” Kyungsoo’s voice floats back to him, slightly distant as if Kyungsoo is far away from the phone. “Jongdae, if you feel this strongly, then you will find them. So get off the phone with me and stop wasting your time and his or her time.”

“But-“ Jongdae begins, not feeling confident at all. He’s pretty sure he’s sweating, probably looks a bit of a mess, his stomach is in such knots and he still feels so shaken that he doesn’t exactly trust his legs. “Kyungsoo-“

“Good luck!” Kyungsoo half yells over the phone and, to Jongdae’s horror, hangs up. The phone stares at him as he gapes at it, the device making a soft dial tone back at him as his heart thumps in his chest erratically.

Swallowing and trying to force down the stone of panic in his throat, Jongdae closes his eyes, squeezing them shut and trying to control the writhing in his stomach. He flips his phone shut, ending the dial tone, and breathes in as best he can through his nose.

Opening his eyes, Jongdae looks at the red line still around his wrist, and lets out the breath in a shudder.

If he met his soul mate yesterday, then it goes both ways.

“Looking for me,” Jongdae mimics, thinking back to what Kyungsoo said. With fumbling fingers, Jongdae opens the stall door, shaking himself slightly and stepping out with surety to go and fi-

“Ow!” yells a voice as Jongdae walks directly into someone and smacks his head into theirs, jerking his whole system.

It’s like being hit with an electric shock, the sudden jolt through him making the hair rise on his skin as his stomach falls out of this dimension. Losing his balance, Jongdae ends up grabbing onto the other, his head spinning as his eyes go out of focus and the touch of his fingers to skin feels hot, red hot and he gasps. “Shit,” falls out of his mouth as he gets plunged into vague vertigo and his heart pounds hard in his chest.

Jongdae has heard of this, and suddenly, as hands wrap around his arms to steady him with a loud intake of air from the person he’s grappling with, he realizes what this is.

The Pull.

“It’s you,” Jongdae chokes out, trying to shake the fog from his head as he looks at the man who he’s just collided with and is half holding him up. “It’s you!”

The man blinks, his face clearing of the haze and showing wide bright surprised eyes, a pretty pink mouth, and a slight smaller nose, light blond hair and-

Jongdae’s stomach falls back out of the fourth dimension back into this and plummets his brief moment of happiness into despair. “Fuck!”

Skin almost burning and still feeling jittery, Jongdae’s legs wobble as he clings onto the coffee pervert who is looking at him in shock. “Oh!” he says and his grip tightens on Jongdae’s arms, holding him steady. “It’s you again.” He blinks and Jongdae’s whole world begins to fall down around him.

This can’t be happening. Anything but this.

“No,” whimpers from Jongdae’s lips as he lets his knees give out. Of all people to feel the Pull for, it’s the worst person Jongdae can think of.

The coffee pervert’s hands keep him up though, holding him steady as the asshole goes “whoa there, Right Hook, you okay?”

“No,” Jongdae moans and opens his eyes to look at the coffee pervert. “No, I am not okay.” He looks down, at his right arm where the coffee pervert is holding onto his bicep with his left hand and, sure enough, Jongdae can see a bright red line wrapped around the other man’s wrist. “I’m the worst I’ve ever been,” he declares as another pulse of feeling surges through him and he can feel how close the coffee pervert is to him. Hyper-sensitivity, awareness, nausea and vague bodily distress all symptoms of the Pull.

“Are you sick?” the pervert asks. “Do I need to let go? Don’t throw up on me. We’re not that close. And you already punched me.”

“Why does it have to be you?” Jongdae spits, the surge of the Pull once more hitting him and he refuses because this is wrong. Jongdae has just spent the whole morning looking for his soul mate, the person he’s supposed to be with, for the rest of his life. The one for him.

His soul mate can’t be the asshole who poured coffee on him yesterday to feel him up because he’s a goddamn pervert.

He can’t be.

“Why does. . .” The other trails off, stilling slightly and then he breathes in sharply. Jongdae waits for the laughter, for the touch to tighten, for the hands to vanish. They don’t. “So,” says that damn voice, light and casual. “Looks like we’re supposed to be a thing.”

Jongdae has never heard anyone refer to soul mates so lightly in his life. He opens his eyes to glare and is met with a poorly placed smile and teasing amusement.

This can’t be happening.

“Soul mates,” Jongdae snarls between grit teeth, suddenly hating the word. It feels like a curse now. Jongdae has spent years thinking of the person who would be his soul mate, the person he would be with who would be perfect for him and everything he needs and wants. Jongdae has a coffee pervert and skin tingling telling him yes, this is his own personal grade of hell.

“Yeah,” the stranger says. “That.” Jongdae stiffens, bristling and wanting to be let go, now. The hands holding him up feel too hot, and his skin begins to crawl. “I’m Lu Han.” Jongdae doesn't give a shit. Coffee Pervert Lu Han waits only a moment for Jongdae to answer him before his smile falters and his grip shifts. “Have you been tested?”

Jongdae’s anger boils.


๑


Pervert: 9:24 - Just to clarify I wasn’t being serious when I asked if you were tested.

Pervert: 11:07 - Are you free on Friday? We’re should hang out or something :)

10:42 - I’m busy.

“You’re not busy,” snorts from over his shoulder and Jongdae jerks, nearly smacking the back of his head into Chanyeol’s nose. Chanyeol grins at him instead of acknowledging that he’s barely avoided having his nose broken. “You never have stuff to do on a Friday.”

“What do you know?” Jongdae grunts, quickly closing his phone with a snap as he looks at Chanyeol, seated beside him on the couch. He’s still not entirely sure why he gave Lu Han his phone number. He figures if anyone asks, he’ll just tell them he was in shock when Lu Han had laughed and told him they should probably exchange numbers in case they lose each other again before shaking his wrist in front of Jongdae’s nose.

“I know you’re either crashing Baekhyun and Zitao’s dates or here, stealing food,” Kyungsoo says, walking into the room and immediately frowning when he sees Jongdae’s feet propped on the coffee table. “And ge-“

“Off!” Jongdae says, raising his legs high in the air and holding up his hands in defense, not wanting a heel in his stomach by an irritated Kyungsoo. “And I thought you loved having me here.”

“We do,” Chanyeol says, smiling as he sits back and looks up at Kyungsoo, as if searching for agreement. Kyungsoo’s frown softens, but not by much. “Our grocery bill, however…”

“Hates you,” Kyungsoo finishes. “It wonders if you even eat when you’re not here.”

“I eat,” Jongdae defends himself and his adult autonomy. Frozen dinners are entirely adult. “I just happen to like your cooking more than my own.”

“That’s because your version of cooking is mini hotdogs and rice,” chimes in from the entrance hall. Jongdae turns to see Baekhyun smirking as he walks into the apartment, eyes dancing as they land on him. “Everyone’s cooking is better than yours.”

“You say as if you’re some great cook yourself,” Jongdae sighs back, arms crossing over his chest as he sinks back into the couch. “Besides, cooking isn’t everything.” Chanyeol turns to him with an eyebrow raised as if severely skeptical. “I have many other amazing qualities as well.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t count as a quality, only a pestilence,” Kyungsoo says, reaching down and snatching Jongdae’s phone from his hands. This earns a squawk as Jongdae reaches up to try to grab the phone back and has to settle for sighing as Kyungsoo shoots him a patronizing look. “I thought you refused to talk to this pervert of yours.”

“I do,” Jongdae says, crossing his arms over his chest and staring pointed at the television, which is decidedly off. He presses his lips into a line, trying to flatten out the automatic smile as his mind buzzes against his will. He doesn’t want to be thinking of backed up texts and a few missed calls that spanned over the first half of this week. He doesn’t want to think about how his soul mate is a weirdo who looked almost as bad as Chanyeol when he laughed.

“And that’s why you gave him your number,” Kyungsoo says, glancing up to look at him in a pointed manner. “I see.”

“I was bullied,” Jongdae shoots back, hugging his arms closer in a cross over his chest.

“In which case, I approve of this guy,” Baekhyun says, flopping down into the only arm chair (Kyungsoo’s) and grinning widely. “Anyone who can bully you is fantastic in my book. He’s probably fantastic for you, a match perfectly made this soul mate of yours.”

“Except not,” Jongdae shoots back. “You weren’t there. You don’t know how bad he is.” Stupid lecherous face looking up as he felt up Jongdae and then insulted him.

“He can’t be that bad,” Kyungsoo says, offering a weak sympathetic and possibly attempted reassuring smile. “Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot.”

“Exactly,” Chanyeol says, reaching over and patting Jongdae’s knee. “Or, technically, hand, considering you say he tried to feel you up.”

“See? It could be so much worse really,” Baekhyun chimes in, grinning. “You could be soul mates with Chanyeol for instance.” His grin widens into a laugh as Chanyeol’s face scrunches up in distaste at the comment.

Rather than laughing though, Jongdae doesn’t really find it particularly funny. To him, this isn’t a laughing situation. This is a mistaken situation. “Maybe it went wrong,” Jongdae says, ending in a sigh as he leans forward and puts his hands over his face, blocking out the light. “Maybe the Pull was wrong and maybe I’m not supposed to be soul mates with him.”

“Yeah, because that’s happened before,” Baekhyun scoffs. Jongdae cracks his fingers enough to shoot an unappreciative glare at his best friend from across the living room. His best friend, unhelpfully, shrugs at him. “Why can’t I just choose?” he sighs, dropping his hands to glare at the tidy coffee table, magazines perfectly arranged on the glass top, just as Chanyeol and Kyungsoo like them. Because they’re good together, they work together, they’re happy and comfortable; real soul mates. Gravitating together because they work well, balance and sync.

“You mean like you kept trying to do before finding this guy,” Kyungsoo says, sinking down onto the couch beside Chanyeol, fingers slipping between Chanyeol’s larger ones with an ease of familiarity. “Which was such a roaring success, if I remember well.”

“Was he just sarcastic?” Baekhyun asks, eyebrow raised as he looks between Chanyeol’s smiling face and Kyungsoo’s unsmiling one.

The times before when Jongdae had met people wonderful and kind and supportive and gently sweet and the vision of that strived perfection, the one he should be with. All the times his heart swelled and his hands shook with trepidation and the line around his wrist remained dark brown. It’s fading pink, just like a faint scar now, and his feelings sour as his eyes catch on it.

The almost smiling face of Lu Han, the coffee pervert, flickers in his mind and his mouth curves down as his eyes remain on his wrist. Lu Han is nothing like what Jongdae thought his soul mate would be. He’s good looking, sure, but everything else is wrong, feels like Jongdae’s being rubbed against a washboard of emotional nausea rather than smoothed out and content.

It’s wrong.

“What if soul mates are just a suggestion?” Jongdae begins, the words almost absent as they drop out of his mouth. It’s like molasses of out-loud contemplation crawling out of his brain and into speech. All his life Jongdae thought of soul mates as being the one, his endgame and the final ending of his story, the happily ever after. Nothing about Lu Han is happily ever after. “Like, it’s not absolute and I don’t have to be with him.”

It takes Jongdae a moment before he realizes the silence and looks up. His three friends are staring at him with varying degrees of expression on their faces and he blinks, surprised. “What?”

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol says, voice calm and soothing in its lower tones. “You’re an asshole.”

Jongdae frowns, that old feeling of a curl in his chest returning as Kyungsoo gets up and drops his phone into his lap as he walks past, scowling, to the kitchen.

Jongdae has two new messages on his phone. He feels sick.


๑


Whatever Jongdae had expected when he finished his afternoon shift at the bookshop, it hadn’t been someone waiting outside for him.

It has been with two weeks of careful vigilant effort and only sparse reply to text messages with minimal reveal of information that Jongdae has been able to avoid Lu Han and the reminder that they’re suppose to be together. Or something. All that time comes to a grinding halt when the man leaning against the wall outside of the bookshop looks up at him casually.

“Hey,” Lu Han says, pushing off the wall. He’s smiling as Jongdae’s reflection shines in the other man’s sunglasses, Lu Han’s hair pushed off his face today. He reminds Jongdae of the college boys he used to know when in school years ago. It reminds Jongdae he has no idea how old Lu Han is, but considering his nonchalance and smooth skin, he’s probably young. Maybe younger than Jongdae.

Jongdae always liked older men, more mature and it just makes the stone press deeper in his chest to crush down the wriggling curl at the center that’s been getting worse as the days pass.

“What are you doing here?” Jongdae demands, stepping out of the doorway and making to walk down the steps to the main street, away from Lu Han.

“I was waiting,” Lu Han says, stepping beside him easily and still smiling.

“The apocalypse passed in 2012, you’re a little late,” Jongdae says, trying to walk faster and frowning as Lu Han keeps up without any problem. Lu Han doesn’t say anything and when Jongdae looks at him, he’s got a sort of semi-smile to his lips. “How did you even know where I worked?”

“I make a point of stalking all people relevant in my life,” Lu Han says flippantly and Jongdae stumbles as the statement startles him. Lu Han is grinning when he looks up. “That and you told me a week ago.”

Jongdae remembers no such thing. Rather than push it though, he’ll just add ‘stalker’ to the ‘pervert’ label he already has for Lu Han, right along with ‘obsessive’ and ‘too many questions.’

“So, why are you here?” Jongdae asks, wondering how he can walk to the train station without having Lu Han follow him and remain in public view. So far he’s managed to keep conversation with Lu Han limited to small text messages, and only when he is bored enough to sift through them on his phone. Considering Jongdae is in between work and odd hour shifts, he has unfortunate amounts of free time to do this.

Lu Han shrugs, steps a little closer and Jongdae moves away in tandem. His wrist looks naked now, just continuous skin and no mark at all. Jongdae almost wishes he still had the dark brown line and no one flooding his phone at random hours asking if he could be a constellation, which one would it be? Capricorn or the Pleiades?

“Well, we’re soul mates,” Lu Han says. Jongdae’s jaw clenches at the word. “Which kind of means we should hang out, at least.” Lu Han smiles and Jongdae doesn’t when he chances to glance at him. “I feel like we kind of got off on the wrong foot. Me spilling coffee on you accidentally.” Jongdae’s frown tightens. “You punching me, probably not accidentally.” Lu Han shrugs again, and pushes his sunglasses up his face to rest on top of his head, offsetting his auburn hair. “Not the best first impression.”

Lu Han still smiles, eyes crinkling up a bit in good humor or spirits or something Jongdae doesn’t feel in return. He pushes the heavy feeling in his chest over the incessant curl and doesn’t smile. “You know,” he says and Lu Han’s eyebrows raise to indicate attentiveness. “Most people’s first impressions are pretty accurate.” Lu Han’s smile falters. “Yours was.”

The smile slips as the glint in Lu Han’s eyes flickers a bit. “My devilish charm was that strong?”

“No, but the asshole attitude sure was,” Jongdae throws back, skin prickling as Lu Han’s smile slips further.

“It was an accident,” Lu Han says.

“Sure,” Jongdae scoffs and turns away. Lu Han is too close, his steps too easily matching his own and Jongdae has that rumpled feeling of clothing put on backwards.

Soul mates are supposed to fit, to be comfortable and that easy progression. Nothing about how Jongdae feels right now is comfortable.

“Tell you what,” Lu Han says, and his elbow knocks against Jongdae’s as they turn a street corner, jolting him. “Let’s start over.” Jongdae lets out a small hiccup of a gasp as Lu Han grab his elbow, tugging him around and to a stop. Lu Han is smiling again, holding out a hand. “Hello,” Lu Han says with a smile Jongdae doesn’t return. “I’m Lu Han. It’s nice to meet you.”

It’s like some horrible cliché scene from one of those B movies that the cinema shows at odd hours. “You still spilled coffee on me,” he replies and Lu Han drops his hand with a sigh. “And felt me up.”

“Neither of those things was intentional,” Lu Han says and Jongdae half bristles. He then almost smacks himself because who gets offended when someone tells them they wouldn’t feel them up even if given the perfect chance to feel them up? Apparently, Jongdae.

But yet here he stands, refusing to shake hands with Lu Han in a pitiful reintroduction and feeling offended because Lu Han the coffee pervert stalker wouldn’t like to feel him up. “Thanks,” he says, sounding far too bitter, and stepping back.

“Unless you wanted me to, of course,” Lu Han says, and then smiles that same overly bright and slightly teasing smile that makes Jongdae’s skin itch just like it had when he’d met Lu Han for the first time. “I’m all for consensual mutual feeling up. Considering we’re soul mates, I imagine that might factor in at some point.” He smiles, eyes in crescents like this is all a big joke.

Jongdae isn’t laughing. Nothing about this is funny.

This is serious. His soul mate is important, someone who should be there for him, support him and he in turn supports. A lover, not someone who laughs and jokes around and teases him like this.

Everything about Lu Han is wrong.

“Why are you here?” Jongdae asks him, not walking away. The station exit is a few blocks over. He doesn’t want Lu Han following him there. He doesn’t want Lu Han knowing where he lives. Lu Han already knows where one of his jobs is, and that’s bad enough.

“Supposedly to live, procreate, and die,” Lu Han says and his mouth twitches as Jongdae sighs, closing his eyes and temper slipping. “But I wanted to see if you’d be up for dinner.”

At home in his fourth floor apartment in the slightly less desirable area of the city, Jongdae has four cans of tuna and a carton of milk for his prospective dinner. There is also maybe salt, but it’s doubtful.

Before him, smiling and looking all for the world better dressed and possibly better paid than himself, stands Lu Han, a coffee pervert and Jongdae’s soul mate, offering dinner.

“Busy?” Lu Han asks, his hands slipping into his jeans pockets before he shifts his weight. “I know I kind of threw this at you unexpectedly.”

“First coffee, now dinner,” Jongdae says and Lu Han lets out a laugh that Jongdae doesn’t participate in.

“I haven’t thrown dinner on your lap,” Lu Han says, his smile flashing white teeth as his eyes shine. “Yet.”

The tone has Jongdae’s skin prickling all over, as if salt water is drying too fast from the beach. His stomach growls and, swallowing down a sticky throat, Jongdae decides just once. For the sake of food.


๑


A week ago, amid a series of texts from Lu Han, lies a text with the name of the bookshop Jongdae works at. It was sent while Jongdae was at work, which might explain why Jongdae may have sent it accidentally. He’d probably been distracted.

Just like he had been distracted by coffee when he first met Lu Han. He’d thought back on it, later, when his head had been clearer, and he remembered that he hadn’t initially felt the Pull. It was with dismay when he realized he had, he just hadn’t registered it. The racing over his skin, the burn when they touched, and the feeling of being thrown, dizzy, had all been under his anger and the scalding of coffee in his lap.

He never asked Lu Han if he had felt the Pull then. He doesn’t really want to know, feeling sickened and tired when he remembers Lu Han and what that Pull means.

The phone quacks gently in his hands. Jongdae frowns at it, the tiny screen illuminated in the darkness of his apartment.

A new message flashes on his screen.

Pervert: 10:13 – Thanks for dinner~ Sleep well!

Jongdae doesn’t answer it, instead dropping his phone onto his bedside table and flopping into bed to curl up in the blankets, forcing thoughts of Lu Han out of his head before they raid his dreams.


๑


The television is terrible, blaring loud and obnoxious over the room and Jongdae does his best not to glare at it. Honestly, it’s doing him a favor, seeing as it is distracting most of the room from the conversation he’s in the middle of. It’s just hard to be grateful of a talking machine box that heels telling him how badly he needs athlete’s foot cream and has to go buy some right now.

“Jongdae,” is said sharply as fingers snap in front of his nose and Jongdae blinks, going slightly cross eyed as he looks at the hand in front of his face. Beside him, as if this is the most tiring thing in her life, Soojung sighs heavily. “Are you even listening?”

“I’m always listening to you,” Jongdae tells her, leaning in to try to keep his voice down so Baekhyun and Zitao don’t get distract and try to make the conversation worse. “I just have to keep you guessing to keep you sharp.”

Soojung’s look of judgment would make song contest critics weep. “I’m already sharp enough to catch on that you’re full of bullshit, so don’t bother,” she says and pokes him in the side, earning a squirm and a wince. “Besides, you already told Baekhyun about this, and I’m personally offended that you left me out of it.”

“How do you know Baekhyun knows?” Jongdae frowns, glancing over at Baekhyun as he appears enthralled in the television and is squashed in the only single chair with Zitao.

“Zitao told me,” Soojung says and Jongdae frowns more. Soojung rolls her eyes. “Oh come on, like Baekhyun doesn’t tell Zitao about everything. I’m pretty sure Zitao could tell you the intricate details of Baekhyun’s bowel movements.”

“I’ll choose to never ask,” Jongdae says with a grimace, looking away from his best friend and his fiancé.

“Don’t,” Amber says, leaning in over Soojung’s shoulder and giving him a pointed look. “We’re not exaggerating.”

“Eavesdropping is a terrible vice,” Jongdae tells her.

“So is excessive sarcasm,” Amber fires back and then grins widely. “I accept you anyway.”

“When were you going to tell me that you finally met your soul mate?” Soojung asks, shaking her long hair from her face and poking Jongdae again. It’s a horrible habit she’s picked up lately and Jongdae doesn’t appreciate it in the slightest. He was on a long shift at the breakfast diner the other day and thinks he pulled a muscle in his side from all the trays he carried. “That’s kind of important news, you know. What happened to me being the first to know about this sort of thing?”

“I was pausing for dramatic effect,” Jongdae tries to wave off, sinking a bit further into the couch as Soojung huffs at him. “And, you know, I’ve been busy.” Avoiding said soul mate.

Amber smiles, leaning over until she’s resting on Soojung’s back, her arms circling around the younger girls waist as she settles. “He’s keeping you that busy?”

“Why haven’t you introduced him?” Soojung asks, her eyes lighting up as she accommodates Amber’s weight on her. “You should have brought him over today! Then we could have seen who finally ended up with our-“

Baekhyun lets out a loud laugh, starting the conversation and making Jongdae’s already rising nerves twang. “He didn’t bring him because he doesn’t like him,” Baekhyun unhelpfully informs the room and Jongdae closes his eyes, grimacing.

It’s a pause before Amber says, “What?”

“You mean to tell me,” Soojung says, another finger jab in Jongdae’s shoulder. “That you, after years and years of whining and pining and wistful sighing at me that you met your soul mate and are now, what, avoiding him?”

“Would you please stop jabbing me, it hurts,” Jongdae says, leaning away from Soojung and away from her attacking fingernails. “I have my reasons.”

“Oh, this better be good,” Soojung says, her tone indicating that Jongdae will have to either tell her Lu Han is a convicted criminal or Jongdae’s dead to her.

“He’s a coffee pervert,” Baekhyun says just as Jongdae opens his mouth to explain the situation.

“Do you mind?” Jongdae tries not to growl, turning to look at Baekhyun as Amber suddenly snorts into laughter, making Soojung flinch violently.

“Not at all,” Baekhyun says, smiling as Zitao watches Amber with a vague look of concerned intrigue on his face. “I’m delighted to mind actually.”

“A coffee pervert,” Soojung repeats, tilting her head that tells Jongdae the skepticism is reaching critical levels. “What the hell is a coffee pervert?”

“It’s a person who spills coffee on your lap so they can feel up unsuspecting strangers,” Zitao chimes in, finally joining the conversation as Jongdae, yet again, is cut off mid-almost speech. “Jongdae met Lu Han at that job fair when Lu Han spilled a latte on his crotch to get the good.”

“Sounds like a perfect catch for you,” Amber manages between laughs and Jongdae frowns at her as Soojung slowly arches one eyebrow. “He must have really thought you were hot to spill coffee on you. Jongdae, you man magnet.”

“Man magnet,” Soojung repeats, looking at her girlfriend as Amber continues to laugh blatantly at Jongdae’s miserable reality. “Really?”

“He’s a persistent pervert too,” Baekhyun adds. “Jongdae’s had dinner with him, what, two times now?”

“Once,” Jongdae corrects with a glare at Baekhyun, the secret spiller. Zitao smiles calmly as Baekhyun grins back at him, clearly pleased with himself. “And that was just because I didn’t have anything myself. And because he bullied me into it.”

“Bullied you,” Soojung repeats as she turns away from Amber and frowns. “He bullies you?”

“He’s terrible,” Jongdae adds, frowning as he thinks of how Lu Han badgers him for dinner again and again, mentioning how their soul mates and asking when Jongdae is free. How Lu Han texts him that he didn’t see him at the bookstore that day when he stopped by and Jongdae just wants to pull his hair and tell him to go away because he still feels annoyed at how the last time Jongdae had seen Lu Han. Lu Han had laughed and noted how they both had so much in common before indicating Jongdae’s ass and pointing out how his was also sadly small.

“He can’t be that bad,” Amber says, finally recovering herself.

“He bullies Jongdae, I love him already,” Baekhyun adds and Amber grins as if in agreement. “It takes a special breed to bully you, I think he’s good for you.”

“You put your best friend in the hands of a pervert,” Jongdae grumbles, squashing himself back into the couch as he looks at Baekhyun with an indifference he knows will irritate him. “You’re horrible.”

Baekhyun just grins wide.

“Maybe it was actually an accident though,” Amber proposes optimistically. “Like, he didn’t actually mean to spill his coffee on you and has just been, I dunno, trying to act like a normal person.”

Jongdae presses his lips together as the image of Lu Han flashes through his mind. Nothing about Lu Han says ‘normal’ nor does it say ‘good dating material’ to him, let alone ‘soul mate material’. “Even if,” Jongdae begins. “And the if is a very strong if, he didn't’ mean to, it’s just weird. He’s strange and uncomfortable and rude and everything about him feels wrong.”

“You know,” Zitao chimes in, frowning a bit as he leans into Baekhyun’s side and looks at Jongdae keenly. “For someone who has been waiting for his soul mate for so long, you’re not really giving Lu Han much of a chance.”

“Exactly,” Amber says, smiling and Jongdae’s skin crawls with discomfort.

“You’ve been waiting for a soul mate for as long as I’ve known you,” Soojung says, crossing her arms over her chest as she fixes him with a look. “What gives? I thought you’d be happy about this.”

Anger and irritation spike and Jongdae can’t help the sharp gesture he makes before he flops back into the couch with an annoyed cry. “I have been waiting forever,” he grinds out, hands coming to rest over his face as his frustration mounts higher and higher. “I’ve wanted to meet my soul mate for so long it’s just-“

“Just what?” Soojung cuts in before Jongdae can finish his dramatic pause.

Fingers slipping down his face so he can look at the occupants of the room, all looking at him as the television is still too loud in the corner, Jongdae wets his lips. “I just didn’t think it would be…”

Lu Han’s slew of text messages and weird jokes and mannerisms in the rare moments when he catches Jongdae at the tail end of work, making Jongdae’s responses stick in his throat. The way he laughs and shrugs thing off and doesn’t talk when he’s supposed to and is nothing like anything perfect or what Jongdae thought of when he imagined a soul mate.

Jongdae has spent the last twenty-seven years thinking about his soul mate.

Lu Han is anything but Jongdae’s soul mate isn’t one of them. He can’t be.

Everyone in the room is still staring at him, waiting as the television continues on and ignores the significance of the moment.

In the pocket of his pants, Jongdae’s phone buzzes and quacks faintly. “Him,” Jongdae finally finishes as his stomach twists uncomfortably.

Finding his soul mate is supposed to be happy, a time where he feels relieved and excited and where he wants to spend time with his other supposed half. He’s supposed to be out right now, with the person who he’s been waiting for his entire life, heart swelling in his chest with hope and promise.

Instead he’s sitting in the living room of his friend’s apartment watching afternoon talk shows and feelings sick with too much, his insides twisting even worse every time he thinks of Lu Han.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be at all. It’s all wrong, and it all draws back to Lu Han, because Lu Han is wrong.

“Jongdae,” Amber finally says and breaks the silence. Soojung is frowning at him, her lips pressed together as Baekhyun appears to be struggling with something to say for once. Amber is frowning, but not in disapproval. “Is it so bad to give him a chance?”

“Yes,” Jongdae says immediately, his hands dropping and the tips of his fingers brushing over where his phone is. “It is.”

“Why?” Soojung asks, and cocks one of her eyebrows.

“Yeah, Jongdae,” Baekhyun chimes in, sinking back into the arm chair and squashing Zitao into the cushions. “What’s the worst that could happen? He already spilled coffee on you, felt you up, and slapped your tiny butt. I’d say there isn’t really much place else he can go except up.”

Baekhyun’s grin isn’t meant to be comforting or encouraging and Jongdae knows that as Baekhyun’s eyes glint in mockery.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll give him a chance and he just might surprise you,” Soojung says, reaching forward and poking him, albeit with a bit less ferocity and a soft hidden smile to her lips.

His phone quacks again and Jongdae’s stomach twists in response, mind filled with molasses tar as he frowns and thinks about the mess that he’s in.

“After all,” Zitao adds, and his lips curl up in an encouraging smile. “You are soul mates after all. What if you do just end up working out?”


๑


Those words curl around and around in Jongdae’s mind over the next few days as he goes between his weird hour of part time jobs and randomly replies to random text messages when he sees fit. They stick at the back of his thoughts and poke into him as he tries to get to sleep. They blaze in bright letters as Jongdae walks out of the bookshop in the afternoon and his phone quacks in his side bay and he digs it out.

His phone quacks again with a message Jongdae never reads before “Pervert” is flashing on the screen and Lu Han is calling him.

For the first time, Jongdae answers his phone. “What?”

There is a silence which may or may not be shocked before Lu Han says “you answered,” like he is genuinely surprised.

“That’s what you’re supposed to do get a call,” Jongdae says, squinting up and down the street for signs of Lu Han, just in case he’s lurking around and living up to his stalker label. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to know if you were done with work,” Lu Han says, still sounding surprised. “You know, I thought we could-“

What if you two just end up working out? sing-songs across Jongdae’s brain, almost a mockery, and in a way he wants it to shut up and prove it wrong. “What are you up to?” Jongdae asks, cutting Lu Han off.

“What?”

“Are you busy tonight?” Jongdae asks, the sudden creep of nervousness strange.

“Well, I had plans,” Lu Han says and the tone of his voice has Jongdae painting a picture of his teasing face. “But I’m-“

“We should get dinner,” Jongdae says. Get it over with. “Together. Can you?”

There is a soft laugh over the line, and Jongdae can’t tell if it’s amused or disbelieving. “Oh really?” Lu Han asks as Jongdae begins to walk towards the station. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yes,” Jongdae doesn’t see any reason to beat around the bush. “We’re supposed to be soul mates, so I’m asking you out.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Lu Han drawls as Jongdae turns a corner and nearly runs into someone, jerking in surprise and stepping back. He looks up and his eyes widen as he sees Lu Han standing there, eyebrows raised right before he grins widely at him. “I guess I’m free,” Lu Han speaks into the phone, and Jongdae hears it in two places at once. “How thoughtful of you to ask me on a date.”

That tease is still there, the joking and playful edge to his words as Lu Han pulls his phone from his face and Jongdae snaps his shut. “Shut up,” Jongdae grunts, and Lu Han, rather than looking put out, just smiles more. “We’re getting Mexican.”

This seems to throw Lu Han, but fuck Jongdae’s been wanting Mexican food for so long he may as well enjoy something on this date. “Really?” Lu Han asks, eyes wide and the surprise looks whole, genuine as he falls into step with Jongdae. “Mexican?”

“What about Mexican?” Jongdae asks, glancing to Lu Han with a small frown. So far, no one he knows would pass up dinner recommendations.

“Isn’t it,” Lu Han’s lips twist as he watches Jongdae’s face, studying with those bright eyes, “supposedly the kind of food you don’t get on dates or something.”

Jongdae stops walking, turning completely to Lu Han and that irritation that is so often skittering over his skin rises. He doesn’t know what it is, what about Lu Han that continues to irk him so much and get under his skin, but it does, like he can’t get past those sparkly pretty eyes and the strange smile that looks like he’s hiding everything. The way nothing about him matches. Of all things Jongdae expected Lu Han to say, it wasn’t that.

“I just want to eat Mexican,” Jongdae says, honestly because, well, he does. It doesn’t matter if he’s on a date or sitting at home in his underpants, he wants to have Mexican. “Does it really matter?”

For a moment, Lu Han looks at him in an almost quizzical manner. Then, just when Jongdae is about to tell him to forget it, Lu Han smiles and the moment is gone, Lu Han back to his smiles and his easy posture and Jongdae feels unbalanced by it. “You’re not like most people,” Lu Han says instead, a small hint of a laugh to his voice as his smile brightens.

He never answered Jongdae’s question but when Jongdae resumes walking, so does Lu Han beside him. He doesn’t press too close, like he had for the first few times he randomly popped up, but if he moved just a bit their arms would brush.

“Is that a problem?” Jongdae asks, raising one eyebrow and putting a bit of frost to his tone.

Instead of stepping back or faltering, Lu Han smiles brighter, his eyes crinkling up as he looks back and his teeth flash bright in the sun. “Not at all,” Lu Han says, and something about his smile makes the irritating buzz quiet if only for a moment. Like Lu Han means it, and rather than being insulting, is pleased.

Like Lu Han doesn’t care that Jongdae may not be exactly like everyone else, and considers that a good thing.

That tiny crawl in Jongdae’s chest does something that doesn’t feel so much like a crawl, but a flutter.


๑


Lu Han is still strange and Jongdae still doesn’t really feel comfortable through the whole dinner, but it’s less… caustic. Jongdae has to keep reminding himself with the flashing of Zitao’s words that appear to have seared them into the side of his brain to try ‘what if’.

It’s a little disconcerting how distractingly strange Lu Han looks when he smiles unexpectedly, apparently just as unprepared for the full impact of his smile as Jongdae. He doesn’t really seem to care though if his face which looks pretty and young manages to do things that it shouldn’t logically be able to.

It turns out Lu Han also really likes Mexican, and has no boundaries with stealing some of Jongdae’s food during dinner and flashing him smiles and teasing questions and looks through the meal.

And…

It isn’t torture.

“You survived,” Baekhyun says over the phone when he picks up.

“Some people say hello,” Jongdae tells him, glancing at the clock and wondering how dinner lasted over an hour without him wanting to strangle something.

“Yeah, well, they’re boring people,” Baekhyun snorts back and Jongdae grimaces. “How’d it go? Are you still hatin’?”

“Well, I survived, like you said,” Jongdae begins and then stops because he isn’t entirely sure where to go from there. It wasn’t a good date, but it wasn’t a bad date. It could have been a lot worse, like Lu Han making good on his once comment to throw dinner in Jongdae’s lap.

“Clearly,” Baekhyun says and chuckles. “When are you going to see him again?”

“I never said we were going on another date.” Jongdae frowns as he drops his shoulder bag onto his beat up armchair, flopping into the couch a moment later with his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, okay,” says Baekhyun. “You’re seeing him tomorrow or next week or he’s there right now?” Jongdae can hear the humor rising in Baekhyun’s tone. “If you brought him back to your place, I give both of you a gold star. You for opening your mind and him for not running away immediately upon seeing where you live.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Jongdae says, leaning back and letting his head rest against the pillows of his couch, looking up at the ceiling. Absently, he runs his hand over his stomach, full and content from dinner.

“You may be right,” Baekhyun muses for a second. “I’m probably funnier.”

All through dinner, Lu Han had chatted, asking him questions as they ate through the meal and telling a bit about himself. Jongdae ended up telling Lu Han far more about himself than he learned about Lu Han, which had been more than he ever intended to do. While before, in those first moments he might have sooner have told a murderer the answers to those questions, something about the look in Lu Han’s eyes had him talking.

Jongdae isn’t sure how long he talked, or how much he said, but dinner lasted over an hour. Between Lu Han’s strange jokes and facial expressions that suggested as much as teased, Jongdae had lost track of time and forgotten that he didn’t want to be there.

“So how is your soul mate doing?” Baekhyun asks, jumping Jongdae back out of his thoughts. “Still being everything you don’t like or have you finally decided to give him a shot?”

“He steals food,” Jongdae says, thinking back to how Lu Han kept sneaking bites of his dinner and then offering his own for Jongdae before taking it for himself cheekily. Jongdae had ended up fighting off his plastic fork for a while until victorious, though it was short lived when Lu Han stole his soda. “And he asks strange questions.”

“A food stealing coffee pervert boyfriend for my best friend,” Baekhyun muses, as Jongdae checks the time. He has the early shift tomorrow at his other job and it’s getting late. “And you’re sure this guy isn’t perfect for you?”

“I need a soul mate who is able to make food or help me make food not steal the food I have,” Jongdae replies and Baekhyun snorts.

“Well, you two can take cooking lessons then,” Baekhyun says cheerfully. “Both of you sucky cooks can learn to suck less together and them hopefully both of you will live happily ever after and not starve.”

“Like you and Zitao have done,” Jongdae comments and hears a muffled cough.

“Exactly,” Baekhyun says and it doesn’t sound joking at all, a sudden shift. “Who knows, you two might learn how to not burn eggs together and you’ll realize he’s been what’s missing in your life.”

Lu Han’s stupid grin when he’d shot question after question swims in Jongdae’s mind and he shakes his head. “Hardly,” he says, not really sure how the idea of taking a class with Lu Han could be any less appealing. Half the time he talks to Lu Han, he can’t tell if Lu Han is teasing him, insulting him, or just making conversation.

“Hey, I thought you were being optimistic about this now,” Baekhyun chides and Jongdae sighs, keeling over on the couch. “You know, actually giving him a chance and not being morose just because he’s not your absolute prince charming.”

“I asked him out, didn’t I?” Jongdae points out.

“Yeah, and your evaluation of that was ‘I didn’t want to die’,” Baekhyun laughs back. “That wasn’t giving him a chance, that was being slightly less pessimistic.”

“And you know so much more than I do about dating,” Jongdae quips back.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Baekhyun tells him, tone not joking much at all now. “You somehow forget that I’m the one getting married in four months and you’re the one who’s had consistently failed relationships.”

“Yeah, but you found your soul mate when you were fourteen,” Jongdae says. “You and Zitao have had it easy.”

There is a soft scoff on the other end of the line and Jongdae sighs, wedging the phone to lie on his ear. Usually, it helps to talk to Baekhyun, get some of the steam out and joke around with him, but at the moment, it somehow digs at him. “No relationship is easy, Jongdae.”

Except how Baekhyun has never had to sit with the horrible creeping worry of when and who his soul mate would be. Baekhyun met Zitao when he was so young, and they fell together so easily, syncing up and being the stable lasting couple early on. They never had to worry about this or go through the horrible grind of suspension like Jongdae has done.

It’s been easy for them, and Jongdae really wishes that he knew someone who was in the same situation as he is.

“Thanks for the advice,” Jongdae ends up cutting out, his stomach twisting as his thoughts being to run. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“You know, Lu Han probably didn’t expect you to be his soul mate either,” Baekhyun says and that stabs hard.

“He’s lucky to have a soul mate like me,” Jongdae snaps back, now irritated.

“Really?” Baekhyun asks just as Jongdae hangs up. It leaves him gaping at his phone, irritation coursing through him and he almost calls Baekhyun back.

Breathing a few times through his nose to try to calm down, Jongdae closes his eyes instead, letting the hand holding his phone fall back to bump against his forehead. Taking in a deep breath, he tries to push down the annoyance that talking with Baekhyun had stirred up.

He breathes in and forces himself to think about Lu Han. Almost immediately, Lu Han’s face flickers into his head, a mix of mutating expressions on his features and the barest hints of his voice flitting in and out of focus, his laugh ringing. Jongdae isn’t used to him at all, never expected to meet someone as confusing as him, as strange and slightly irritating and different from what he’d expect as a soul mate.

Lu Han doesn’t treat him with courtesy, polite and caring and with the attentiveness that Jongdae would muse over in absent hours. Lu Han instead teases him, jokes about everything and laughs at so much even when it may not be funny. Lu Han isn’t serious and secure, he’s instead spontaneous and jolting, stepping too close and skipping away and Jongdae can’t predict what he’s going to do next.

It makes it hard for Jongdae to feel like he will ever get to know him at all, let alone trust him. The first inclination Jongdae had upon meeting him was intense dislike after all, and trying to step back from that is not easy.

In his hand, his phone quacks loudly and vibrates, making Jongdae jump. Flipping it open, he reads a new message from Lu Han.

Pervert: 10:46 - Hey soul mate. Did you make it home or are you dead?

Alive. Jongdae texts back, having forgotten a bit about how Lu Han had wormed out of him how he lived in a less secure area of the city.

Pervert: 10:47 - Just making sure. Otherwise I’d ask a friend if they were busy on Friday. As you were my first choice, I am thus relieved.

For a moment, Jongdae bounces his phone in his hands, staring up at it as he lies on his back. There is nothing doting about Lu Han, nothing that coddles or makes him feel particularly special. Even comments like this don’t have his heart fluttering like it had when Yixing had held his hand and told him how he felt so happy they found each other.

That had made Jongdae’s heart flutter, the soft sweetness in Yixing’s voice.

Lu Han feels like being prodded in the center of the chest with an elbow followed by a teasing laugh. If it were Baekhyun doing this, Jongdae would laugh and throw back an insult. With Lu Han, he isn’t quite sure.

Your poor friends Jongdae ends up typing back, pushing out his lip in contemplation. He hits send when he decides he doesn’t care if Lu Han thinks it’s rude.

His phone quacks just as Jongdae lowers it to drop onto his stomach. Pervert: So I’ll see you on Friday?

Jongdae stares at the message, pressing the pound key on his phone again and again every time the screen fades to black to read it again. He frowns, thinking over everything, about how he’s supposed to give Lu Han a chance, about how he’s always wanted this, how Lu Han makes no sense and how he still feels like he’s unbalance.

He thinks about how no one else understands, not Kyungsoo, not Chanyeol, and certainly not Baekhyun.

Pressing the pound key again and reading the text, Jongdae bites his lip when he realizes maybe the only person who may be able to understand this at all is the last person he wants to really talk to about this.

Typing in quickly to his phone, Jongdae hits send, and rolls into the back cushions of his couch, stomach beginning to twist all over again.


๑


Jongdae is less ready for Friday when it actually arrives. As it is, he ends up finishing his morning shift at the breakfast café he works at later than usual, meaning he’s late for the tail end of the bookshop shift and he gets glares from his manager for two hours after clocking in. By the time he leaves, he’s tired and wants to just give up on leaving his apartment after getting in.

Instead, he gets a quacking message from Lu Han that is a cheerful see you in an hour! and Jongdae feels vaguely ill among the lack of motivation.

Lu Han, at least, looks nice. Rather that what Jongdae has shown up in (which is a casual hodgepodge of basic colors and scuffed shoes), Lu Han actually looks like he’s dressed up for a proper date.

“Hi,” Jongdae says, taking in the laid back form of Lu Han standing outside the restaurant they were supposed to rendezvous at. Lu Han in gray slacks and a white button down is far more impressive than Lu Han in interestingly patterned shorts and a regular tee shirt. He also looks comfortable, an easy welcoming smile on his face as he sees Jongdae.

“Hey,” Lu Han says, striding up and Jongdae faintly flinches away, expecting Lu Han to try to throw his arm around him or something. Lu Han simply blinks, his smile faltering slightly as he settles at Jongdae’s side, smile still in place. “How are you? I’ve barely heard from you all day.”

“I was working,” Jongdae answers curtly, glancing up at Lu Han and then away, the way Lu Han’s eyes seem to so easily fix on him making him feel oddly observed. “I had a long day.”

The smile slips and Lu Han shifts, tongue poking out to wet his lips. “If you’re too tired, we could have rescheduled or-“

“It’s fine,” Jongdae snaps. They’re on a date. They’re doing what people who are dating are supposed to do and they’re soul mates or something and he’s trying and giving Lu Han a chance. It’s fine.

Jongdae is doing the thing where he gives Lu Han a ‘chance’.

It appears for a moment as if Lu Han is going to say something, his smile slipping and brows tightening together. It has a nervous rise in Jongdae’s stomach, but then Lu Han laughs, and the moment is gone. “Whatever you say,” he says and steps away, leading the way for Jongdae to follow him. “Hungry?”

So far, none of Lu Han’s dates really make much consistent sense. A lot of the dates Jongdae has been on have all been very typical standard dates. Since Jongdae started the whole attempt to try to find someone in hopes that being proactive might do something to help his lack of soul mate two years ago, he’s been on a number of dates.

Most of them were all the typical date and setting that he’s used to seeing others follow. Dinner, movies, walks places, coffee shops, and a few shopping excursions being the majority of the activities before it turned into ‘couple activities’ which were less structured and more ‘hanging out’.

Lu Han takes him to random dinner locations and settings, chatting and spending more time invading Jongdae’s mind and space and catching him off guard than he does trying to keep a date setting. They’ve been out to dinner or something like that about four or five times, usually at the point where Jongdae has been with Lu Han for over an hour before it truly occurs to him this might be a date.

Lu Han takes him to random dinner locations and settings, chatting and spending more time invading Jongdae’s mind and space and catching him off guard than he does trying to keep a date setting. They’ve been out to dinner or something like that about four or five times, usually at the point where Jongdae has been with Lu Han for over an hour before it truly occurs to him this might be a date.

The restaurant tonight is far more of a typical date that Jongdae is used to, the hostess at the door, the black and white dressed waiters and the just comfortable chairs that make it so you don't get too distracted from the person you are with. This is more like what he's familiar with, and it feels a little strange being here with Lu Han when he's used to grabbing Mexican and Lu Han tugging him to grab some food before chowing down in the park.

It's an actual date, and Jongdae feels suddenly more uncomfortable than he has yet with Lu Han.

It doesn't help that Lu Han looks completely at ease, even offering him a teasing smile when he swaggers forward and gestures the waiter away so he can hold out Jongdae's chair for him. Wrinkling his nose, Jongdae takes the other, muttering "you don't need to act like a gentleman," under his breath and almost missing the sudden falter in Lu Han's usually bright expression.

"Okay," Lu Han says, probably more to himself than Jongdae as he takes the seat he had pulled out and accepts the menu the waiter offers him. He just barely glances up after opening his menu at Jongdae, but he smiles again as he does so. "Let me know what looks good."

Jongdae doesn't say anything, just humming agreement as he tugs his lower lip between his teeth and looking over his menu. The prices stick at his vision more than the foods listed and he feels a twist in his stomach.

"I can't afford any of this," Jongdae says, looking up from his menu. Jongdae works two jobs and spends more time figuring out how to penny pinch between shifts to make sure he gets his bills paid than he does on nutrition.

"Good," Lu Han says, barely looking up from his menu. "Because you're not paying." Jongdae opens his mouth to snap at Lu Han, to tell him that he doesn't need Lu Han to cover for him, but then Lu Han is speaking again. "I work at a small company down town that does a lot of technical design and commission work. I can afford it." He looks up to Jongdae, eyes dancing as if he's sharing a joke Jongdae can't understand. "You never asked," he says.

It shouldn't feel so strange, that Jongdae has seen Lu Han over the last month and a half and yet didn't even know that. It seems like a pretty basic thing.

"But," Jongdae says, frowning. "I met you at a job fair." It's kind of hard to forget how they met, but if Lu Han has a job then why was he there at all?

"I'm trying to branch out," Lu Han says, closing his menu slowly. "I figured I wanted to find a more stable job, considering the job right now was just an internship that turned long term." His smile turns teasing. "I didn't find a job, but I found you."

The line should be cheesy, something that Jongdae would expect Chanyeol to tell Kyungsoo and his normal reaction would be to scoff at it and laugh, but instead it has him numbing, feeling heavy and warm and uneasy. The way Lu Han says it wasn't teasing, despite how his expression suggests a joke, and Jongdae can't tell if he was being serious or teasing and after so many weeks of this, it feels like his head is spinning from it.

"Well," Jongdae says, after a pause that is too long to be unnoticed. "Then I'll thank you for dinner."

It falls flat, and he hides behind the menu to keep the discomfort from showing so blatantly.

He's trying. He's supposed to be trying he's giving Lu Han a chance despite how Lu Han makes him uncomfortable and nervous and how when he thinks of Lu Han, it's a jumble of annoyance and confusion. Glancing up, Lu Han has returned to looking over his menu. He has a small furrow between his brows and his bottom lip drawn between his teeth as he reads. He doesn't look joking or bright, and Jongdae finds he doesn't feel the surge of annoyance that he's come to just accept as part of being around him.

Instead, he feels uneasy, and there isn’t a reason he can conjure up to explain that.

Jongdae looks away before Lu Han looks up again, eyes curious and Jongdae fixates on the entres and what he wants.

It's hard to pin point it at first, but when their food finally arrives at the table, Jongdae understands what it is that makes him feel so much more out of place tonight than usual. It had been easier on all the other occasions he saw Lu Han to ignore it, get lost up in the teasing jabs and how Lu Han looked like he'd fallen into his closet and rolled back out with whatever latched onto him. It had been easier when he'd been too distracted by how undefined and easy things had been to not think about what Lu Han is to him, and how they could be technically dating.

Even when he'd asked Lu Han out, it hadn't felt like a date. It had been more like Lu Han leaning into his dinner and teasingly stealing food from his dish and sneaking touches. It hadn't been a date, it had been annoying and distracting and Jongdae had told him about his high school vocal competitions without thinking about it.

This though, this is an unmistakable date and it leaves Jongdae feeling suffocated.

Lu Han looks put together and handsome despite the small bit of scruff he's missed at his right sideburn. He's composed and makes normal conversation without the typical prodding and teasing (though Jongdae can see it there, just under the surface) and the whole thing feels so formal, so finite it pushes the air up in Jongdae's chest so it's hard to breathe.

It might be the long day, which has him feeling on edge, it might be the way the chair is just a little but uncomfortable to have him focusing elsewhere than his seat, it might be that he feels dramatically underdressed and out of place in such a nice restaurant, but it feels like it's all shoved at him. Both of them here, Lu Han looking like Jongdae might have envisioned how he should have looked in his mind if he thought of a soul mate except how he knows Lu Han isn't this.

It's like a big joke all set up to grind into him that Lu Han and he are wrapped up in a bond that so many treat as seriously as marriage. It's like even despite his efforts to perhaps give Lu Han a chance, it all sticks here to how he doesn't know if he wants to.

Lu Han who rubs him in all the wrong ways than Jongdae wants, a surprise and a twist and none of the ease he envisioned. Lu Han, who isn’t his missing puzzle piece but a completely different puzzle.

"Are you okay?" Lu Han asks, startling Jongdae from his tumbling thoughts and the encompassing weight in his chest, pressing down on the writhing that just gets worse. When Jongdae looks up at him, Lu Han isn't teasing, he's frowning and looks concerned.

"Fine," Jongdae says a bit shorter than he might usually if it was anyone else. "I'm fine, Lu Han." It feels sour and sweet and the food in his mouth is sticky when he has to look away from Lu Han.

He feels sick, tightness in his chest that he's not used to and a jump in his stomach when he looks at Lu Han. It's a little like the Pull, the same warmth and numbness and it makes him frown when he looks at his soul mate and just feels boxed in.

He never wanted to feel caged, just held.

Lu Han is still looking at him, stopped eating when Jongdae glances up at him. "What?"

"If you aren't feeling well, we can stop," Lu Han tells him and it's so serious it catches Jongdae off guard. Lu Han's face tightens for a second, like he's about to frown or say something more and then he sighs, shaking his head a bit. "I can take you home if you feel like you can't make it on your own. Or want the company." He smiles and the returning tease has Jongdae's nerves twanging again, buzzing drastically.

"I'm not at that point yet," Jongdae replies and it isn't as strong as he wishes it had been, Lu Han's eyes glinting as he watches him for another moment.

"Well, feel free to let me know when you are," Lu Han tells him, and Jongdae jumps a bit when he feels something bump into his foot under the table. He doesn't wait before jerking back, kicking at Lu Han's foot and wincing when he connects with the table leg. "Careful," Lu Han tells him, voice laughing and it's unnerving to see him like Jongdae has become so used to seeing in him tennis shoes and casually uncaring now dressed up, handsome and mature.

"You started it," Jongdae snaps back. It sounds so childish, but Jongdae kind of feels childish. He's out of place, and Lu Han doesn't help.

Jongdae never asked for this, and when he looks up again after being met with silence, Lu Han's smile has faded to almost nothing.

It, if anything, makes him even more uncomfortable.

It is, by far, the worst date Jongdae has been on with Lu Han. It's the worst not because Lu Han screwed it up or the food was bad or it was dreadfully dull, but because absolutely nothing went wrong. It was the worst because it was so blatantly a date and it had Jongdae's nerves buzzing the whole time, washing back and forth. Lu Han has been impossibly polite, teasing less than usual, and the contrast has Jongdae almost reaching out to shake him and tell him to stop the act.

Because Lu Han isn't perfect. He's not a composed and put together person who pays carelessly for a dinner that is Jongdae's grocery bill for over a week.

Jongdae jumps when Lu Han's hand brushes his, the feeling almost electric and he practically curses. He's never heard of the Pull lasting this long but he still feels so on edge, skin tingling and with Lu Han standing so close he can smell the faint hint of cologne. It makes him a little dizzy amid the general exhaustion from the day and he pulls away almost instantly.

"What now?" Jongdae asks, looking just past Lu Han's shoulder rather than at him. The night is a little warmer than he thought and he can feel the extra weight from the day pressing into him just as Lu Han's eyes fix on him, his gaze the heaviest thing of all from today.

"Nothing," Lu Han says, and the sudden new tone in his voice has Jongdae finally looking at him full on.

"What?"

Lu Han always has something else to do, something up his sleeve, and a teasing quirk to his lips that makes Jongdae brace for impact.

None of that is there right now.

None.

Lu Han instead looks tired, unsmiling and his eyes don't read at all, shadowed in the evening. "I don't want to push you," he says, and this isn't right either. Lu Han is always pushing Jongdae, stepping into his personal space and grinning mischievously.

Jongdae opens his mouth to say Lu Han isn’t pushing him, and stops.

Lu Han isn’t pushing him. At all. He hasn’t been pushing since Jongdae was late to meet up and all night it’s just been still and the curling anticipation of Jongdae waiting for Lu Han to get too close.

For Lu Han to screw up.

Lu Han lets out a soft sigh, his head dipping briefly as his hands slip into the pockets of his slacks. Lu Han doesn’t speak for a moment and Jongdae doesn’t know any words to say to him, thrown off guard never having seen Lu Han look like this. “If you didn't want to come out tonight, you could have just told me,” Lu Han says and the words hit hard into Jongdae’s chest. Lu Han lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head and squinting, looking anywhere but at Jongdae. “Ah, that came out a bit harsh.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae says, feeling a sting in his chest where that weight gets worse. Lu Han won’t look at him, instead anywhere but. “It was a bit.”

“Well, touché,” Lu Han says, and he doesn’t laugh at all. “What I guess I want to say is, if you really don’t want to come out and meet with me, then just tell me no.” Lu Han doesn’t look at Jongdae and the weight in his chest tightens like a winding spring,

“What?” The anger in Jongdae’s voice isn’t supposed to be there, but at the same time he feels a little justified by it. He may not have been perfect company but…

But he never has been.

Baekhyun’s voice from the other week drifts into his mind as he sees Lu Han shift a bit, staring over his left shoulder and not at him.

You know, Lu Han probably didn’t expect you to be his soul mate either.

The writhing in his stomach makes him sick, the food from dinner twisting along with a flare of guilt that he isn’t prepared for.

“Just tell me no,” Lu Han says, and finally looks at him. He doesn’t look serious, instead just shrugs and casual, expect his eyes are the deadest Jongdae has ever seen.

It’s like being completely cut off from Lu Han, his life pulled away and making Jongdae feel cold.

In the past few months, Lu Han has pursued him avidly, meeting him after work, surprising him when he’s free, taken him out for dinners and teased him. He’s acted interested in him and learned about him.

Jongdae just learned for the first time tonight what Lu Han’s job is.

Looking at him now, Jongdae can hear and see his friends, staring at him with various expressions on their faces all asking what’s so bad about Lu Han that Jongdae won’t give him a chance. That even after Jongdae said he would, he’s still been holding back and viewing everything Lu Han does with skepticism.

Lu Han doesn’t feel right, but right now Jongdae realizes that, at the moment, Lu Han isn’t the one who’s an asshole.

He is.

Jongdae has never seen Lu Han look like this, and Lu Han has been the one whose been learning about him and paying attention over the last few weeks, not Jongdae. Jongdae could very easily just nod and walk away, telling Lu Han no, and be done with it.

Thinking of Lu Han and the soul mate Jongdae expected would push him to do just that, the verification for all his behavior. Facing Lu Han now though, the chance right there to turn and end this and never have to see Lu Han again, Jongdae feels hollow.

Because Lu Han isn’t anything like the soul mate Jongdae wanted or thought he’d have and fell in love with before he met him. Lu Han is everything that is just out of place among that image.

Lu Han is also funny in a way that catches Jongdae off guard, weird but proud of it and speaks his mind and under all his jokes and mischief, he is kind.

The twisting in his chest gets worse as Jongdae realizes he doesn’t want to tell Lu Han no. It rises to a pitch when Lu Han sighs and shakes his head, turning away, showing Jongdae his back.

Jongdae doesn't want him to go, and he can’t explain exactly why, but he’s not ready to let go.

“But,” he says, the word falling out of his mouth ungracefully as Lu Han turns to look back at him. Jongdae doesn’t know how to read Lu Han, and he swallows, trying to think of what to do as the seconds being to stretch. He throws caution out the window as Lu Han’s expression begins to falter and says, “then who am I supposed to ask to pay for dinner?”

It’s lame, so very lame and stupid and Jongdae knows it. Lu Han knows it too, one eyebrow raising before he scoffs a bit. But he doesn’t walk away.

“I guess you’d just starve,” Lu Han says, shrugging.

“And you’d have to miss my fantastic company bitching at you through dinner,” Jongdae’s heart feels like it’s beating too fast in his chest, watching Lu Han closely.

Lu Han laughs, finally, and the sound is like a warm washing wave over Jongdae. It’s then he realizes Lu Han hasn’t laughed at all much all evening. It breaks the tension, and Jongdae feels almost weak as relief replaces the anxiety.

“You’re not always so bad,” Lu Han says, and some of the glint is back as he stays still, just a few feet from Jongdae.

“That’s not a very good compliment,” Jongdae tells him, his exhaustion returning and feeling much stronger now the writhing nerves in his belly have faded.

“That’s because it wasn’t a compliment,” Lu Han says and laughs when Jongdae frowns at him.

Tired, and trying to work through the tangled web of new revelations and thoughts in his head, Jongdae pushes it to the back of his mind. It’s a Friday, and he’s just had a very long day and a date that could have been enjoyable if he hadn’t chosen to be unhappy. “Do you like coffee?” he asks, figuring he may as well salvage some of this.

Lu Han’s eyes widen marginally, before a smile slowly spreads over his face. It’s a real smile, not one full of tricks and mischief and stretching his mouth too wide. It’s handsome, something that is a little hard to fully admit, but it is true. “I do,” he answers, and the life that has seeped back into his voice is warm.

“Okay,” Jongdae says and reaches out to brush his fingers to Lu Han’s arm, just hinting at following him. “I know a place.”

It’s uncharted waters, and Jongdae has no idea if he’s happy with his decision, but the fact remains that he’s not unhappy when he feels and hears Lu Han following him.

He doesn’t flinch away when Lu Han’s hand brushes his and it’s him asking the questions over the next hour over the coffee that he paid for. Lu Han argued, but looked softer in giving in when Jongdae shot him down.

When Jongdae gets home, it only takes him fifteen minutes before he remembers to dig out his phone and types a quick message.

Home. Not dead. Jongdae pauses for a moment before adding Thank you for dinner tonight. and pressing send.

He sees a message blinking on the alert light when he wanders from the bathroom a few minutes later, toothbrush stuck in his mouth.

Pervert: 10:47 – You can just treat me to dinner next time and we’re even. Sleep well~

For a moment, Jongdae considers calling Kyungsoo and asking him if he’s being stupid, but then realizes Kyungsoo will just tell him yes. It’d be easier to talk to Kyungsoo later, when he’s slept a bit and had some time to process.

When he’s had some time to let the shiver in his chest calm down.


๑


His phone barely has time to quack before it’s snatched out of his hands by an eagerly grinning Baekhyun.

“Do you ever ask?” Jongdae sighs as Baekhyun flops back into Zitao’s side and tries to unlock his phone. “Seriously, how does Zitao put up with you?”

“Miracles,” Zitao says over Baekhyun’s head with a wide grin. Baekhyun slaps him on the thigh before he returns to trying to unlock Jongdae’s phone, tongue between his teeth.

“You’ll probably do better to just let him check the message before taking it from him,” Chanyeol points out, sitting down after returning from the bathroom. Kyungsoo sits up a bit to accommodate for him in the booth of the restaurant as Jongdae’s phone quacks again. “Then he’ll have done the work for you.”

“Stop helping him,” Jongdae drawls at Chanyeol, getting a grin as Chanyeol pulls his cola towards him. “I don’t need Baekhyun doing any more than he’s already done with this whole thing.”

“Whole thing?” Kyungsoo says, eyebrow raising. “You mean your relationship with Lu Han?”

The relationship that has Jongdae checking his phone more often, sending messages rather than just replying to them and letting himself smile at jokes. The relationship that has had him out on two more dates since that tense restaurant evening as Jongdae reminds himself that he wants Lu Han there.

It’s becoming rarer and rarer that he has to tell himself he wants him to be there, and the more he’s finally listening, the more Jongdae is stuck thinking with Chanyeol-voiced optimism.

Tonight is one of the first Friday’s in a while that Jongdae is out with his friends rather than hunkering down or finding himself meeting up with Lu Han. It’s different, but he doesn’t find himself disliking it.

“We lost him,” Baekhyun comments, knee jabbing into Jongdae’s painfully. “He’s off in thoughts about letting Lu Han touch him inappropriately.” Jongdae levels him with a look that speaks of no amusement. Baekhyun simply laughs.

“Hardly,” Jongdae responds, keeping his voice light. Baekhyun is only half right. He has a lot on his mind at the moment. His jobs, his paychecks, conversation at the moment, Lu Han, the laundry he has to do, Lu Han, how he still has to figure out what kind of job he wants to look for, the electric bill… and maybe Lu Han.

“Then what were you thinking about?” Zitao asks, craning a bit to look over Baekhyun’s head. Baekhyun is still frowning at Jongdae’s phone. The password has been changed more times in the past few weeks than usual, considering Lu Han has the same habit as Baekhyun in randomly snatching it from him.

Though, unlike Baekhyun, who reads all his emails and uses up his data, Lu Han instead tries to take ‘manly selcas’ for Jongdae to look at later and remember him by.

Jongdae had told him that was stupid. Lu Han had told him they could take the pictures together and Jongdae had been a bit shocked to find himself giving in and making a face as Lu Han leaned in close.

“Work,” Jongdae says instead of how many blurry pictures of his shocked face besides Lu Han’s he has on his phone. He has been thinking about work a lot lately, in all honesty. Considering he’s not thinking about finding his soul mate anymore, he ends up having a lot of brain space to think about other things. Like jobs, which he hadn’t realized until now is a significantly underappreciated aspect of his life. “You know, real adult things.”

“Really?” Kyungsoo actually looks impressed by him for once and he suddenly has Chanyeol’s complete attention. “What brought that on? Last I heard you were moaning about living among the books you shelve and sell.”

“I thought it was sinking to the depths of those dishwasher things,” Zitao says, frowning in confusion.

“Hobart?” Baekhyun prompts and Zitao gasps and nods enthusiastically. Baekhyun just grins and looks at Jongdae, his grin glinting a bit. “I told you Lu Han was good for you.”

Lately, Jongdae’s stomach has taken to crawling around a bit at the thought of Lu Han. Not because he’s got ‘flutters’, but it’s less uncomfortable spending time with him. It’s different, Lu Han not being as forward, but that kind of helps. Being around him now, even if it’s back to those casual dinners and walks and random suggestions of things to do, Jongdae doesn’t feel as caustic.

It helps as well that he’s pulling back himself, remembering that he wants to keep seeing Lu Han, to date him and spend time with him even if he’s unsure and feels dubious of Lu Han’s intentions more often than not. He remembers that, keeps telling himself that, and somehow each time he tells himself, he finds the need to decreasing steadily. The more he’s just begun to forget what made him uncomfortable in the first place.

“What makes you think Lu Han has anything to do with my thinking about a job?” Jongdae asks. He doesn’t even bother reaching for his phone as Baekhyun tosses it between his hands. If Baekhyun drops it, he can just buy Jongdae a new one when it breaks.

“Because he just texted you to see if you had a date for that interview or not,” Baekhyun says with a grin and the jump in Jongdae’s chest has him lunging forward for his phone.

Laughing, Baekhyun curls back into his fiancé, Zitao letting out a shriek as Jongdae tries to wrestle his phone back. Opposite them, Kyungsoo just stares in disapproval as Chanyeol watches with varying degrees of interest on his face. “You have an interview?” Chanyeol asks as Jongdae tries to snatch his phone away before Baekhyun passes it to Zitao and it’s a lost cause.

“Lu Han knows you have an interview before we know you have an interview?” Kyungsoo asks, sounding even more shocked than Chanyeol had.

“Since-“ Jongdae grunts finally managing to grab his phone. Zitao smiles, having taken pity on him and pinned Baekhyun easily, finally giving him an opening. “Thanks,” Jongdae says and Zitao nods as Baekhyun turns to pout at him. “Well, maybe. He’s probably just checking dates.” Jongdae sighs, flopping back into the booth, phone in hand. “To see if I’m free or something.”

“You have an interview and you didn’t tell us?” Kyungsoo repeats, surprise full in his voice now. “Who are you?”

“I know, right?” Baekhyun says, grinning around the straw of his cola. “I told you I liked this guy. I’ve never met him and I totally approve of him. You should accept that you’re supposed to be together. The whole fickle princess thing you’ve been playing has been really dumb. Just give in and embrace him and his perverted nature.”

Baekhyun grins widely, even as Jongdae wants to bristle and throw back he’s not giving into anything. Then he thinks of Lu Han smiling as he casually suggests a new training school for music that opened up downtown, or how the galleries might be looking for new staff. How Lu Han’s eyes flicker with promise and Jongdae doesn’t mind the proximity as much anymore and how Lu Han treats personal space like it only exists when he feels like it should.

“Sure,” Chanyeol laughs, leaning back and into Kyungsoo slightly, his arm slipping around Kyungsoo’s shoulders easily. “Just give in and embrace it. You can be like Baekhyun and Zitao over here.”

Jongdae simply raises an eyebrow at Kyungsoo’s overzealous boyfriend. “You mean fuck on other people’s beds?” he asks, watching as Chanyeol nods before he’s finished talking and Kyungsoo’s face goes a face pallid shade of ‘fuck no’.

Chanyeol is still nodding complacently when he begins to say “yes” and realizes what Jongdae has just said, which results in him ending in a yelped “no!” and Baekhyun snorting a laugh so violently he convulses. “No,” Chanyeol attempts to compose as Baekhyun continues to laugh avidly and Zitao is red and giggly, neither of them denying what Jongdae has just stated. “Not like them in that regard.”

“I like Jongdae dating Lu Han so much, he says even more fun shit now,” Baekhyun states jovially, raising his soda to cheers in Jongdae’s direction as he sags into Zitao as if he’s earned the privilage to.

“I thought you stopped doing that in college,” Kyungsoo says, looking extremely disapproving from across the table at Baekhyun and Zitao.

“It’s fun when you think things like that,” Baekhyun tells him. “It makes me so happy to see your face when you realize you’ve been wrong all along. It’s these little things in life that just bring me such joy.”

Kyungsoo’s expression threatens pain and premature wrinkles.

“But I promise we haven’t touched your bed,” Zitao launches in before Kyungsoo can attack his devilishly grinning fiance. “We know better.”

Jongdae doesn’t ask, doesn’t really want to know if his bed has been touched. In all honestly, he’s pretty sure they have some sort of unspoken contest with some of their friends, but Jongdae has made the wise decision to never press the subject.

“Good,” Kyungsoo says firmly, his fingers tightening around a fork. “You two are an example Jongdae shouldn’t follow.”

“Except how we’re a happy couple and getting married,” Zitao points out, looking a bit haughty as Baekhyun lets him take over the conversation, knowing once the relationship topic is brought up, Zitao wins. He wins every time. “And are basically a model for all of those who know us about a true loving pair-”

“In all regards to the term,” Baekhyun interjects with a grin.

“- that most would dream to aspire to considering,” Zitao finishes, lacing his fingers with Baekhyun’s and holding them over Baekhyun’s stomach. He turns to Jongdae, and the smile on his face is the same one that has Jongdae usually trying not to engage Zitao in deep romantic discussions that always used to end up teary. “I hope you and Lu Han do end up as happy as we are,” he tells him, and something twists hard in Jongdae’s stomach. “I hope you both can have what Baekhyun and I have.”

“Lots of sex,” Baekhyun says and earns a roll of eyes (which is somehow affectionate) as Zitao scoffs and slaps him, shoving him off to go back to his meal. Baekhyun just laughs, hands on his fiance as Kyungsoo makes a point to breathe through his nose and Chanyeol watches with a soft smile on his face.

Apparently no one is aware of how Jongdae isn’t hungry anymore, and how he isn’t sure if he wants to grab his phone and go through the messages and to calm himself down or make a small mountain out of the remainder of his food. After all, the others at the table aren’t inside his head and listening to the jumbled stream of thoughts in his head.

“So you have an interview?” Chanyeol manages to pull back the conversation from bickering Baekhyun and Zitao as Kyungsoo gets increasingly exasperated with them both. He’s smiling brightly at Jongdae, offering him a way out.

“Yeah,” Jongdae grabs onto the topic like a lifeline, because even if Lu Han maybe is part of why he has the interview, this isn’t about Lu Han. “I do.”

“That’s great!” Chanyeol says, and his smile is wide, creasing his face and genuine as he looks at him across the table. “I hope it works out for you!”

Jongdae smiles back, even as his stomach maybe does do that annoying flutter thing as he remembers Lu Han’s reaction when he told him and how his smile had been just as impressive. How Jongdae told himself he was excited about the interview, and that’s why his breathing hitched.

That’s why.


๑


For once, Jongdae feels slightly nervous standing outside of the subway station exit. Saturday dates aren’t unfamiliar at this point, usually Lu Han and himself making plans for the weekend fairly early in the week to make sure that things didn't get messed up (and probably as a result of Jongdae’s initial avoidance of interaction), but today he has literally no clue what they’re doing.

Before, this was just something that annoyed him, but since he finally pulled back and has been making a significant effort to not be an asshole, most of the dates he’s had with Lu Han have been them making plans together. So when Jongdae asked what Lu Han had in mind for Saturday and Lu Han just cocked his head to the side with a mischievous grin and said nothing, Jongdae felt his stomach jerk in an all too familiar fashion.

Now, it’s currently doing a series of exercises at random moments, Jongdae checking his phone and wondering what the hell Lu Han actually has in mind for day. Jongdae is pretty sure if he actually flat out told Lu Han to tell him, he probably would, but a part of him, the part he’s still getting used to, is kind of excited and curious to see what Lu Han has planned.

It’s a dramatic turnaround from the first times he would meet up with Lu Han, the twist in his stomach still jittery but for different reasons. It fades slightly when he catches sight of Lu Han, hair pushed back from his face carelessly and sunglasses in place, looking at easy and smiling as he walks out of the station to him. Seeing Lu Han and not feeling more nervous is a nice change, but the comfortable ease is still something he’s getting used to feeling around Lu Han.

“So,” Jongdae says when Lu Han draws level with him. “What are we doing on this date of yours?”

Date. It’s gone from making him cringe and want to step back to waiting for something to happen, for Lu Han to step closer and begin pushing that line again. He hasn’t, and Jongdae isn’t sure if he’s annoyed at himself for wanting him to, or because he knows the reason Lu Han hasn’t is because he told him not to.

“Stuff,” Lu Han says, eyebrows raising behind his sunglasses. “And then probably eating before more stuff. Date stuff, you know, ‘coz we’re dating.”

“That would be the point,” Jongdae says, eyebrow raised as Lu Han walks on, glancing back with indication for Jongdae to follow.

“Besides, what’s the fun if I can’t see the look of surprise on your face when you see what we’re doing?” Lu Han’s grin is wide, and Jongdae is sure if he could see his eyes, they’d be glinting.

“Seeing my happy expression when I am not contemplating the possibility of you taking me to a sleazy bar,” Jongdae suggests.

“I could happily change up our plans for that,” Lu Han says, head cocking. “If you’d prefer we go to a sleazy bar, that could definitely be arranged.”

“Pass,” Jongdae says. It’s taken a bit of getting used to, but the banter between them has stopped getting under his skin. In some ways, it reminds him of how he talks to Baekhyun, while it also is so definitely just his and Lu Han’s interaction. Just them. “Save that for next time,” he adds absently and Lu Han’s laugh has a small smile wanting to creep over his mouth.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lu Han says, pushing his hair back from his face. He looks good today, not over dressed but just casual. Comfortable. “And I promise we aren’t going anywhere scary today.” His mouth twitches, as if he knows of a joke Jongdae has yet to hear the punch line for. “Hardly scary at all, really.”

Jongdae just raises his eyebrows in reply and Lu Han’s smile spreads full.

“Promise,” Lu Han says, stepping close and Jongdae doesn’t step away in time before Lu Han’s shoulder knocks his gently. Rather than being annoying or invasive though, he just is left feeling oddly amused, the teasing smile still on Lu Han’s face finally pulling his own smile out.

It ends up being far less of anything that Jongdae might have expected when he sees Lu Han turn towards the establishment which is apparently their destination.

“Seriously?” Jongdae asks, looking around in genuine surprise at the extremely chinky looking mini-golf.

“When was the last time you went mini-golfing?” Lu Han asks, unfaltering as he walks up to the counter and angles himself so he’s still talking to Jongdae. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Jongdae severely doubts this, considering mini-golf feels like one of the lamest things to do on a date. Maybe for kids, it's a fun experience, but he grew out of it about ten years ago. Lu Han steps ahead, talking to the staff teenager behind the register as Jongdae watches and feels horrifically conspicuous.

It looks mostly deserted, the area about fifteen holes and scattered with a few ‘traps’ and ‘obstacles’. From here he can see one windmill and one wishing well, but other than that, it mostly just looks like weird lawn ornamentation and grass turf.

“Yo,” startles him out of his judgment along with a nudge to his shoulder. Turning, Jongdae is met with Lu Han smiling at him and holding out a golf club to him.

One of the child sized bright orange plastic golf clubs that is barely longer than his forearm.

“Ha ha,” Jongdae says dryly. “I’m not that short,” he says but then his derision dies as Lu Han holds up his own bright green plastic kiddie sized golf club and waves it, his smile broadening. “You can’t be serious.”

“So very serious,” Lu Han says, waving the golf club in front of his face before stepping back. “C’mon, let’s see if you can beat me.”

“How do we even putt with these things?” Jongdae asks, trying to cough down the sardonic laugh at the situation.

“Don’t worry,” Lu Han says, reaching up and patting Jongdae a few times on the back, his hand lingering for only a moment. “I’ll teach you.” He grins wide before flashing the score card. “What does the winner get?”

Jongdae almost snaps back “nothing” but it sticks in his throat, his eyes falling briefly to Lu Han’s mouth before rising back to where Lu Han’s eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses. “Loser has to buy whatever is next,” Jongdae says instead.

For a moment, it looks like Lu Han wants to protest, but then he just nods firmly and steps back. “All right,” he says and his hand falls away completely, leaving the place it had rested on Jongdae’s shoulder slightly cold.

Apparently, mini golf is serious. At least that’s how Lu Han introduces it with a stone face as he pushes his sunglasses up his face before stepping up to the putting plate with his bright green golf ball and nearly bends in half. Bent over, elbows crooked, and childish miniature putter fitting behind the golf ball, Lu Han looks entirely ridiculous.

“Lookin’ good,” Jongdae can’t help himself from saying as Lu Han lines up the shot, looking back and forth between the first hole (which is literally a straight shot from the putting plate to the hole) and his golf ball.

Lu Han looks back at him, pausing, before he reaches up with one hand to pull his sunglasses down slightly so Jongdae can see his eyes. When he grins and wags his eyebrows suggestively, Jongdae laughs, having to look away as Lu Han’s smile widens and he gives his hips a little wiggle.

“Watch closely,” Lu Han tells him, leveling him with a pointed look. “This is an important strategy. There will be a practical exam later.”

“Of course,” Jongdae says, giving up as Lu Han wiggles his hips again, more exaggeratedly this time. Despite looking completely ridiculous, when Lu Han finally makes the putt, he gets a hole in one.

Straightening up, Lu Han tosses his bangs from his face, cocking his head to the side and adopting a cocky swagger to his walk as he strides back, swinging up the kiddie putter to rest on his shoulder. Walking directly back to Jongdae, he nearly leans into his personal space before sweeping around him, offering a haughty “your turn,” into Jongdae’s ear.

It leaves Jongdae feeling a bit warm as he walks up to the putting plate, not entirely sure if he should be throwing back a snarky comment or a smile or hitting Lu Han with his plastic golf club. When he glances back, wondering at how to putt when he’s using a mini putter and feeling stupid, Lu Han is watching him with a softer smile on his face.

It catches Jongdae a little off guard, to see Lu Han’s face relaxed like that, and somehow it doesn’t make him nervous. Lu Han catches his eye, and his smile turns a bit, one eyebrow raising and Jongdae feels like he falls into place. “Don’t get too cocky,” he tells Lu han, late on the uptake. “I’m a champion at mini-golf.”

Well, he used to be, when he played against his family and Jongdeok was about as dedicated to mini-golf as the earth is at breaking the mold and orbiting the moon.

Just now Jongdae isn’t the right size to crawl through the trick tube and to hold the child putter. Despite that, after a bit of deliberation and finally just deciding ‘screw it,’ Jongdae and ended up shooting a hole in one himself.

If he ended up stretching his legs as far as they would go and nearly falling over, that would be something that didn’t need to mention. If he ended up using the putter to push himself up before Lu Han, laughing, came over and pull him up, arm slipping around his waist for a moment and fitting snug, Jongdae also won’t mention that.

Or how he smiled without thinking when he saw Lu Han’s still laughing face.

“See?” Lu Han says, leaning a bit close and jerking his chin towards the next hole (this one has a few weird bumps in the grass turf and a lot of garden gnomes scattered around). “Not that hard after all.”

“Especially for a champion,” Jongdae says, raising himself just a bit, finding himself looking up at Lu Han and it makes his stomach jump, skin tingle.

“And definitely not for a master,” Lu Han replies, and presses just gently to the small of Jongdae’s back, pressing him forward. “Should be some hard competition.” When Jongdae looks at him, he’s got a slight glint in his eye. It reminds him of other random comments Lu Han has made that jerked into Jongdae, expecting them from Baekhyun who makes anything sound suggestive and never quite sure with Lu Han.

Coffee Pervert filters in a lame half hearted wiggle though Jongdae’s mind, but it takes almost a frighteningly small amount of effort before he’s shoved it back. Stomped it down. Because he isn’t even if Jongdae’s skin still tickles when Lu Han’s fingers linger too long on his arm, his waist, his wrist, or brush the back of his neck faintly.

It keeps happening, and Jongdae waits for them now, the soft touches and gentle nudges from Lu Han, slipping back and around him. It’s a bit strange, to try to learn how to interact with Lu Han (which Jongdae has been doing) and realize Lu Han is doing the same with him. Except Lu Han keeps smiling wider and his eyes shine a little brighter and Jongdae feels nervous with jelly wiggling in his belly.

On hole number nine, he’s unable to make a proper putt as Lu Han ends up romping around the obstacles (three twisty loops that Lu Han attempts to prop himself on and does a spectacular job of failing at).

On hole number twelve, Jongdae gets him back for being distracting by lounging on the wishing well. He smirks as Lu Han screws up his face, obviously finding the shot harder than usual with his butt stuck out and his eyes flashing up to Jongdae more than the actual course.

“Don’t miss,” Jongdae tells him, swinging his mini putter in front of the hole Lu Han has to get his golf ball through. “Don’t want to mess up that perfect record of yours by missing a hole.”

“I rarely miss,” Lu Han says and as Jongdae catches his smirk he feels himself flush with the implication there.

Lu Han doesn’t make the shot. Jongdae’s face feels a little hotter as, instead of even attempting to get a good score, Lu Han instead just whacks away at the golf ball until finally slapping it into the hole after putt thirty.

“I think you lost,” Jongdae tells him, marking down a curvy thirty three on their score card.

“No, I think I’m doing pretty well,” Lu Han says, leaning in and smiling still.

Jongdae swallows but doesn’t tell him no. He stiffens a few moments later when, instead of screwing around the course when it’s Jongdae’s turn, Lu Han quietly waits beside him, watching Jongdae struggle to line up the shit. He jumps when something, or, more specifically someone, presses against his back.

“You need to give it a soft nudge,” Lu Han says, leaning against Jongdae’s back and practically wrapping around him. Jongdae keeps in the gasp in his throat as Lu Han shifts, chest pressing to his shoulder blades and hands brushing against his arms as his breath ghosts against his ear. “Don’t force it.”

Jongdae wants to turn around and snap at him to stop, but also wants to turn around and forget the game of mini golf all together, which makes him just conflicted and the shot even harder. Lu Han’s breath ghosting against the shell of his ear as he practically wraps around him but doesn’t properly touch has Jongdae missing the shot entirely.

Lu Han doesn’t laugh, but his smile is probably for more than victory on making Jongdae mess up. “That was sabotage,” Jongdae tells him, brandishing his putter.

Raising his own putter like a sword, Lu Han just grins. “I play to win,” he says with a bite to his lip and a raise to his eyebrows.

The mini golf course would typically take a person about twenty minutes to go through entirely at a normal pace. It takes Jongdae and Lu Han, who have completely forsaken the concept of playing by the rules by halfway and just try to screw up the shots and goof off.

At the last hole, Jongdae is breathless with laughter, giddy and with a score card with a picture of an octopus for one of the tallies. “We’ll just say I won,” Lu Han says. Jongdae forgoes protesting as he lines up for the prize shot and shakes his hair from his face before smacking the ball as hard as he can when bent in half.

Neither of them get a prize, and the final score on their card ends up being written as LU HAN OVER 9000 in crappy pencil. He doesn’t mention a prize, though it sticks in the back of Jongdae’s mind as he wonders if it will come up.

In all honesty, if Jongdae lets himself think beyond the banter and the light conversation and the way the sun feels pleasant against his skin in the later evening, he’s having fun. A lot of fun. He honestly can’t remember the last time he went on a date like this, or did something like this, where he stopped thinking and just was, well, silly.

And when he turns to see Lu Han watching him, Jongdae doesn’t feel unsettled and annoyed, but nervous and kind of teasing himself. “What?”

“Your smile,” Lu Han says, and his hand brushes against Jongdae’s gently, making his skin tingle again. It keeps doing it, and Jongdae tries to push down the voice wondering if it’s real or a latent Pull. “I really like seeing you smile like that.”

Jongdae blinks. “Like what?”

“Like you’re really having fun,” Lu Han says, and his voice is a little softer. “I like seeing you happy. And your face gets all wrinkled so you look like an old person when you smile; it’s cute.”

Jongdae’s words stick in his throat, because Lu Han isn’t teasing him and he isn’t joking making fun of him. “Thanks,” he says, because Lu Han has just complimented him in an ambiguously insulting way in the same manner as commenting on the weather.

Lu Han just smiles himself, and Jongdae feels that writhe in his chest that pushes just a bit too tight.

Lu Han doesn’t tell him where they are going next either, instead just asking absently if Jongdae had done anything with his interview advice. Lu Han is in the middle of transitioning to another company, absently talking about it, laughing about how his coworkers tell him they’ll miss him for the company soccer games. Laughing that that’s probably all they’ll miss him for.

Jongdae watches him as he talks, noticing the way his eyes light up or dim and how his mouth tugs in a smile when he thinks of something fond. Jongdae watches how Lu Han will steal glances at him, how he holds himself tall but not too cocky. They walk at the same pace, a faster walk than a stroll and Jongdae wants to reach out to Lu Han’s unpierced ear and tug at it, until Lu Han stops talking and just looks at him.

It scares Jongdae a little how he wants to do this, because he can’t explain why he wants to do this, just that he does.

“Your turn,” startles Jongdae out of his thoughts about Lu Han’s ears when Lu Han’s hand brushes his elbow and he looks around.

It’s kind of one of those large open markets, the ones he sees with Kyungsoo and Baekhyun and just hanging out, the scattered stalls all filled with random goods and odd trinkets. He’s seen them, and remembers going as a kid, but hadn’t expected to come again, and especially not now. Lu Han is watching him, carefully waiting.

“My turn for what?” Jongdae asks, tearing his eyes from a woman apparently selling various scented creams to look at him.

“To buy,” Lu Han says and jerks his head to the side of them where a man is watching them looking curious and hopeful under a sign that says ‘Ice Cream’.

“You really planned everything out didn’t you?” Jongdae asks, glancing up at Lu Han as he steps forward. “First mini golf and now open markets and frozen dairy confections.”

“I’ll have chocolate,” Lu Han tells him, grin not faltering and his eyes dancing. Always dancing today. “Please,” he adds, voice softer, and somehow it makes him feel his cheeks heat.

Somehow, though Jongdae has gone to stores and spent more time joking and fooling around with them than he has mini golfing, it’s more subdued. He finds himself actually getting interested in the stalls, Lu Han pushing him along, the two of them quietly going between chatting and eating. Jongdae doesn’t notice until he looks up and can’t find Lu Han how used to having him right next to him he is.

Before he can open his mouth though, a hand slips around his and Lu Han’s voice is coming from beside him, saying “here,” and Jongdae’s heart flutters. “What’s up?”

Jongdae almost fumbles, forgetting what it was he wanted to show Lu Han before he shakes himself and looks down to the trinkets, and calls Lu Han’s attention to them, earning a smile.

It isn’t until they’re three booths away that Jongdae realizes Lu Han never let go of his hand, instead fingers slipping around his lightly and holding him. Allowing for him to pull away. He realizes it when he goes to grab a hat and shove it on Lu Han’s head, grinning in preemptive amusement and the sudden loss has him pausing.

Lu Han laughs though as Jongdae pushes the hat on his head though, Jongdae joining in and choking to a stop when Lu Han puts a headband on his head in return with large pink fluffy ears. “Pink suits you better,” he says.

“It’s my favorite color,” Jongdae says, and Lu Han doesn’t scoff, instead just smiling as he pulls the hat from his head.

When Lu Han reaches for him again, Jongdae thinks it’s to take the headband back, the smile on his lips amused. He freezes when instead, Lu Han’s finger shoves at his mouth and swipes, leaving him sputtering and stepping back as Lu Han gives him an amused look. . “You had some ice cream still there,” he says.

Jongdae wets his lips without realizing it, frowning and feeling a little thrown by Lu Han reaching out and wiping food from his face so casually. Like it was just something he did on a daily basis. “So you just let me walk around with food on my face for the last half hour without telling me?” Jongdae asks, glancing at him as he pulls the headband from his head.

Lu Han lets out a chuckle, stepping back and waiting for Jongdae to join him as they walk from the booth. “Yeah, basically,” Lu Han says, slipping into his side, his personal space, like he belongs there. It’s… comfortable. “It was kind of funny, not going to lie.”

“Glad I can count on you,” Jongdae grumbles, making to shove Lu Han back and it ends up half hearted. He tries to fight down the smile at Lu Han’s laugh and brief jump away, but it doesn’t quite work. Jongdae ends up smiling anyway, ducking his head a little because it’s… fun.

“You can,” Lu Han says, and Jongdae looks up to one of those softer smiles, like the one he caught on Lu Han’s face back at the mini golf course. He doesn’t pull away when he feels Lu Han’s hand brush his as they walk again, instead tentatively hooking their fingers together. Glancing to the side, he sees Lu Han’s smile widen a bit, and it’s nice.

Lu Han doesn’t let go as they stroll through the market, laughing and chatting and hands held warm together. Jongdae doesn’t really want him to, instead still smiling as Lu Han grimaces as he shows him strange things they find and they goof off. It’s fun, and Jongdae doesn’t realize how much time has passed, that it’s dark, until Lu Han tugs him to dinner with their connected hands.

It’s a little like being breathless, but also like nothing at all. Certainly, Jongdae isn’t being swept off his feet into the fairytale if his dreams, Lu Han by far the strangest adaptation of prince charming ever, but the skips in his heart and the smile still on his face have him wondering.

When Lu Han’s hand leaves his as they go to a small restaurant for dinner, nothing elaborate just good food, Jongdae misses it. When Lu Han offers him part of his own dinner only to laugh and pull it back, Jongdae doesn’t feel strange kicking him under the table and grouching at him.

Instead, it’s a kind of settling of the nervousness that Jongdae had expected to feel around Lu Han. It’s like the jump against his skin only happens when he’s waiting for something else, and instead it starts to feel more like warmth and contentment. He doesn’t understand all of Lu Han, still stumbling over some of his jokes, but he likes him.

Jongdae likes him.

“You’re warming up to me,” startles Jongdae from glancing out at the small street their restaurant is on. Lu Han is watching him, sitting back in his chair and one of those softer smiles on his face.

“I’m what?” Jongdae asks, frowning a bit as the previous crawl in his chest instead settles in a warm hum. He wishes it would make up his mind.

“You’re,” Lu Han screws up his face for a moment before he leans forward, reaching over just a bit so his fingers land a few inches from Jongdae’s. “You’re more comfortable around me. You weren’t at first, and I thought-“ Jongdae watches as his lips press together, eyes flickering between his own. “But it’s nice. You being all not prickly. Warming up, I guess.”

That warmth, the soft humming contentment that both is breathless and comfortable begins to spread though Jongdae as Lu Han’s fingers tap against his, as if asking permission. “Yeah well,” he says, before clearing his throat, trying to keep the jump from his voice. “Don’t get too excited though.” He fails in fighting down his smile as he lets their hands lace together.

He fails at holding back his smile when Lu Han’s own beams at him and his heart does a bouncy thing he’s sure it hasn’t done before.

It does it again when, an hour later, Lu Han doesn't take him home quite yet, and instead leans over as they walk and pauses, looking more nervous than Jongdae has seen him before. “What?” he asks, even as he thinks he knows and involuntarily holds Lu Han’s hand tighter.

Lu Han’s left hand with his right hand and the pads of his fingers tingle gently as his eyes flicker to Lu Han’s mouth, open slightly.

“I have some stuff I need to get done this week for work,” Lu Han says, and doesn’t pull back. “I’ll be busy.”

I won’t be able to see you Jongdae finally realizes he’s saying and it feels like another slip into place in a puzzle that he didn’t think fit. Maybe he’s not looking at a puzzle at all.

“Oh,” is all Jongdae ends up saying, which leaves him feeling a little lame. “That’s fine.” Chanyeol’s words, Amber’s words, even Baekhyun’s words swim back to him, telling him that things go two ways, to give him and let himself fall into this and give in despite how parts of Jongdae look at Lu Han and are displaced, odd.

Like now, looking at Lu Han, Jongdae isn’t sure if he wants to turn and walk away and get air or step closer and see what would happen.

The idea of not seeing Lu Han for over a week both fine and also making his skin itch and his stomach drop down too low to still exist in his body. Not seeing Lu Han when he’s become so used to him, when he’s been so distracted today by enjoying himself and Lu Han that he forgot that the reason he’s here with Lu Han at all.

Because they’re soul mates.

Because he likes Lu Han.

Because…

“What about next weekend?” Jongdae asks, and it feels too fast, but maybe Lu Han is right. Jongdae is warming up to him, and likes spending time with him, and wants to hold his hand and a part of him wishes that the winner of the mini-golf game got a kiss rather than had to pay for the next event.

When Lu Han looks back at him, it’s warm, and relieved, and it somehow makes Jongdae even more nervous, a quivering in his chest. “If you’re free.”

“I’ll see what I can do with my schedule,” Jongdae says, a default reply as he pushes down the shudders in his tummy. “You know, I have so much going on usually.”

Lu Han laughs, and it’s soft and does nothing to help with the whole situation going on in Jongdae’s tummy. “I know,” he says, and Jongdae stops breathing as he reaches up, leaning too close, to brush Jongdae’s hair from his forehead.

So close.

Jongdae can practically see the pores on Lu Han’s skin and the patch of hair he missed shaving that morning and can’t breathe as his heart bounces in between his lungs and renders them temporary disabled.

That night, Lu Han doesn’t kiss him, instead making to pull back and continue about the date that hadn’t felt so much as a date as just a mash of fun things Jongdae enjoyed far more than he’d admit.

Instead, Jongdae leaned forward and briefly pressed his lips to Lu Han’s and held his breath as nothing happened and there were no fireworks at all. It was just a kiss.

A kiss that ended quickly and got a surprised but not displeased look before Lu Han smiled and his fingers tightened around Jongdae’s and didn’t repeat as they parted.

A kiss that stuck in Jongdae’s mind and had him flopping into his couch as per standard after getting home and burying himself in the cushions as he told himself it was just a kiss.

His phone quacks and Jongdae checks it as he drags his shirt off and sighs, trying to calm down the tingle in his fingers and the urge to touch his lips. Jongdae is nearing thirty, not thirteen.

Pervert 9:23 I hope you got home alright. Today was fun. And you should know, in those jeans, you look like you actually have an ass. Xoxo

Jongdae doesn’t smile and look giddy when he type back well then at least one of us has an ass to show off and presses send.

Jongdae definitely touch his mouth a few times before going to sleep. He doesn’t think of Lu Han before falling asleep.

He tells himself this as he falls asleep with the lingering feeling of Lu Han’s hand in his and that soft sweeter smile ghosting through his head and ponders if maybe he’s more than just ‘warmed up’.

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Perceptions of Right, Wrong, and What Really Is. (2/3) →