PT.5||Chosen One

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It wasn't as if they had anything. It was just a one night stand. And the date was just...Jongin didn't actually know what it was. Maybe this time Kyungsoo expected him to pay. He didn't even know if he could afford it if he did. He spends Friday night going through his bank statements, eventually deciding that he does have enough, but he'll have to buy a few less groceries until the next payday. He ends up banging his forehead on the kitchen table in frustration and cursing Kyungsoo for even existing.

Saturday arrives leaving a strange, uneasy feeling in his stomach, which he refuses to believe is nerves because if it were he would have to admit that Kyungsoo actually affects him. He showers in the late afternoon and then showers again half an hour before Kyungsoo's meant to arrive because he's sweating so much. After that, he paces, cleans his already immaculate apartment, distractedly tries to watch tv but ends up pacing again.

Seven o'clock rolls around and every noise in the hallway outside makes him stare expectantly at the door. Seven fifteen comes and goes and Jongin begins playing with his phone, double checking the date and time of the date info stored in the calendar, but it's definitely the right day. At seven thirty, Jongin starts wondering if it's all been a joke and he's been played monumentally. Seven forty-five finds him anxious and at eight o'clock he's changing into an old t-shirt that's more comfortable than the crisp button up he'd originally chosen, just in case they'd gone anywhere a little fancier than the small hotpot restaurant a few blocks down, where every server knows his name and order by heart. At eight fifteen, he's out the door on the way to said resutrant, needing to eat because he hadn't planned on making dinner and, thus, has no food.

It's a cool night out, but the restaurant is warm and inviting and it helps soothe his stinging pride for a little while. The food is delicious and the service amiable, but he can't stop from checking his phone every few minutes, just in case there's a message from Kyungsoo. It remains silent and by nine o'clock he's full and satisfied, but no closer to knowing the truth. He finishes his soda, pays the check, and wishes the waitress a good night before leaving.

It's even colder now and his breath fogs as he tugs the collar of his coat up and strolls slowly down the street. People pass him, dressed up for a night out, smiling and laughing and far happier than Jongin feels after being stood up by a hooker. He slips his hands into his pockets and keeps his head down, blending into the background and avoiding the start of the coming nightlife.

He's only a block away from his apartment when he hears heavy footsteps behind, as though someone's running towards him, and he has the brief thought that he's about to get mugged before a hand catches his elbow and halts him.

"Jongin!"

Even out of breath and gasping for air, he'd recognise that voice.

"Kyungsoo?" He turns to face him, taking in the sweat on his brow as though he's been running for some time. "What are you doing here?"

Kyungsoo places his hands on his knees and bends over, drawing in ragged breaths and Jongin thinks about putting his hand on his back to help steady him, but doesn't move a muscle.

"I'm sorry," he says, straightening back up to meet Jongin's gaze. "I was working overtime and seven o'clock kind of snuck up on me. I tried to call, but my battery died before it could go through."

Jongin pictures Kyungsoo with another man's cock jammed down his throat and he has to look anywhere except Kyungsoo's face.

"Oh," he says quietly. "I didn't know you could earn overtime."

Kyungsoo looks confused for a moment before it seems to register.

"Not that job," he says, sounding faintly exasperated.

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