Highlight (oneshot)
Pairing: Kai/Sehun
Word count: 3000
Genre: AU, Romance
Summary: Jongin's one true love was painting. He thought nothing could be more fulfilling than art. But that was before he met Sehun, who, if he doesn't stop being his funny, quirky, dorky self, just might make Jongin fall in love with him. Written as a fill for this prompt on exopromptmeme.
Jongin paused mid-brushstroke to consult the photo he was painting from. The area around the horizon wasn’t coming out right; the sky still had slightly too much of a greenish tint even though Jongin had carefully mixed the color several times. He looked away for a moment and his eyes projected orange and pink after-images of sky and trees onto the white walls. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Maybe he’d been staring at the picture a little too long.
“You know that’s upside-down, right?”
Jongin almost fell out of his chair at the sudden breach of silence. He took a calming breath as he realized that he recognized the voice that had spoken, turning slowly around to face his visitor. “Hyung, how long have you been standing there?” He eyed his friend, Kyungsoo, who was standing by the door with his arms folded and half of a teasing smile on his face. He should have known he’d regret telling Kyungsoo the location of his spare key.
“Long enough to notice that your painting is upsid--”
“Yes, it is. Intentionally, I might add,” Jongin said before turning back around to squint at the landscape again. “All art students learn this...Holding your work upside-down defamiliarizes the objects in the painting, forcing you to view them as exactly that--objects, shapes. You think you know what a tree looks like, but what about this tree? The shadows, the angles of the branches, they’re all unique. If you want to paint realistically, you have to paint what you see.”
Kyungsoo blinked and Jongin felt his cheeks warm slightly, not having meant to launch into a long explanation.
“Anyway...what are you doing here?” Jongin asked.
“Well, you weren’t answering any of my calls or texts and I felt it was my duty as your friend to make sure you weren’t dead.”
Jongin laughed. “Aren’t you being a little paranoid?”
“No, actually, I don’t think I am,” Kyungsoo said, striding over to the fridge, opening it, and inspecting its contents with a critical look on his face. “When was the last time you went grocery shopping? When was the last time you even left your apartment?”
Jongin rested a cheek on his fist as he watched Kyungsoo check the inventory of his cabinets like a concerned parent. “Are we really going to start this again?”
Kyungsoo crossed the tiny kitchen into the living space, flopping onto the couch crammed up against the wall close to the desk Jongin was sitting at. “Chanyeol and his sister invited us and a few other people over to her house tonight. Please come.”
“Why?”
Kyungsoo looked at him incredulously. “Because, believe it or not, Jongin, you have friends--although sometimes I’m not sure how--and we miss you.”
Jongin shook his head, smiling. “Thank you for those sentiments...but I didn’t mean why should I come, I meant why are they having people over? Is there an occasion?”
Kyungsoo shrugged. “It’s Friday.”
“Is it really?” Jongin murmured with some disbelief, accidentally loud enough for Kyungsoo to hear.
“See??” Kyungsoo said. “You’ve been cooped up in here so long you’re losing track of the days, now please, Jongin, I implore you, please come tonight.”
Jongin glanced at his painting one more time, determining that since progress had more or less ground to a screeching halt about two and a half hours ago, taking the rest of the night off wouldn’t hurt. “What time?”
“Now? You can get ready, I’ll wait.” Kyungsoo tapped his fingers on the back of the couch and waited for Jongin to shower and dress.
He emerged from the bathroom 15 minutes later lazily tugging on a shirt, droplets of water still clinging to his hair. He rubbed his hair furiously with a towel and ran his fingers through his bangs a few times. “Okay, ready.”
Kyungsoo eyed his still-damp locks but got up from the couch anyway.
Jongin unclicked his seatbelt as Kyungsoo parked his car on the street by Yura, Chanyeol’s sister’s house. “So who else was coming?” he asked.
“I think just me, you, maybe Baekhyun, and a few of Yura’s other friends. I know I’ve met them all before but I’m not sure of their names.”
“Oh,” Jongin said as they walked up the short driveway and knocked on the door.
Someone opened it a crack and Yura’s voice reached them. “Whoever you are, I’m really sorry, but we only meant to invite a few people and we’re really not set up for--oh, it’s you.” She had opened the door all the way and stopped talking as she realized it was Kyungsoo and Jongin standing there. She sighed. “You guys can come in...if you still want to, that is.” She looked over her shoulder at the crowded areas of the house behind her, almost every available space filled with people talking, laughing, or rushing back and forth and up and down the stairs.
Jongin turned confusedly to Kyungsoo. “I thought you said--”
“I’m really sorry,” Yura said again before he could finish. “It really was supposed to be just you guys and a couple of my other friends, but Chanyeol invited more people and then they invited their friends, who invited more friends, and now...I think half the city might be in my house. If there is so much as one thread of carpet out of place by the end of the night, I’m going to kill my brother.”
Thinking that was almost inevitable given the amount of people here treading carelessly over the floor, Jongin feared for his friend’s life.
“Where is Chanyeol anyway?” asked Kyungsoo once they stepped inside.
“I think he might be downstairs. Last I saw him he was--hey!” She gasped, rushing off toward the living room. “Don’t put your glass down on that table! Use a coaster!!”
Almost immediately upon entering the madhouse that was the finished basement, someone was shoved almost directly into Jongin. Jongin leapt aside, narrowly avoiding the collision by practically tackling Kyungsoo instead, but he didn’t escape the wave of beer that sloshed out of the person’s glass onto Jongin’s white button-up.
“Sorry dude,” the other apologized and Jongin waved him off.
He turned back to Kyungsoo and sighed, inspecting the damage to the fabric. “I guess I better go try to rinse some of this out.”
Kyungsoo nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna try to find Chanyeol.”
They separated as Kyungsoo disappeared into the throng and Jongin started off in search of a bathroom. He came to a closed door slightly hidden from the main layout of the room and knocked. Hearing no reply from inside, he tried the knob and it swung open easily.
He promptly stumbled forward and got a face full of something fluffy--a towel? before he lost his balance further as someone walking by slammed the door shut from the hallway. The door smacked him on the back of the ankle and he toppled over into complete darkness, finding that the walls were a lot closer together than he had anticipated.
He straightened up and felt around him for a lightswitch, finding only some more fluffy material (a stack of towels, then? and possibly some blankets) and something significantly warmer and covered in a denim-like fabric.
“Um...hello there?” said a male voice in his ear and Jongin retracted his hand lightning-quick, not having expected the thing he was touching to talk. Apparently Jongin was not alone.
“Oh, um...sorry...I thought this was a bathroom.”
“Oh, nope, closet. I think you want the next door on the left.”
“Oh ok, thanks,” Jongin said, ready to push the door back open and leave, but his curiosity held him back. “Um. What are you doing in here? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I’m hiding from my friends,” the other said as if it that was a completely ordinary reply. “They keep trying to set me up with Yura and it’s just really awkward, honestly. I’ve known her and Chanyeol forever and I don’t think they get that I don’t like her like that. And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t either. Like me like that, I mean. And who says I want to be set up with anyone. Geez.”
“I understand,” Jongin said, finding himself chuckling along with the other’s monologue. “My friend insisted I come out tonight because I’ve been somewhat of a social recluse for a few days working on a project at home, but...I think that’s where I’d rather be right now, actually.”
“Seems like we’re kindred souls,” the other said. They both laughed. “Hey, I kinda want to see who I’m talking to, if that’s okay.”
Jongin nodded before he remembered that the other couldn’t see him, but he seemed to take the silence as assent.
“Let me see if there’s a light...” His body brushed against Jongin’s as he stepped forward, feeling around the walls for a switch. “Aha.” There was a click and a weak bar of light flickered to life above them.
It wasn’t much of an improvement, but Jongin could finally make out the other’s face awash in the dim light and his breath caught a little.
Despite the delicacy of his thin, oblong face and soft milky skin, he had a well-developed Adam’s apple, a sharp jaw and chin, and strong brows. He had a head of thick hair, dyed lighter than natural, and long bangs that fell over his forehead in a feathery arch. Fine little creases defined his eyelids and his big brown irises twinkled at Jongin in the low light. He had a tall, stately nose and small, pretty lips and Jongin wanted nothing more at that moment than to place a kiss on them...except for maybe to paint them along with the rest of his handsome features.
They both looked away quickly when they realized they’d more or less been staring at each other in silence for nearly thirty seconds. Jongin felt suddenly self-conscious of his unstyled hair and beer-soaked button-up.
“Ah, I’m sorry for staring,” Jongin felt like he should say and the other man looked back at him, but he said nothing; he was simply watching him with a tiny smile on those pretty lips. The silence made Jongin feel like he had to keep talking to fill it. “I’m an artist, so I’m really, uh, visual,” Jongin said, and inwardly cringed at how he was making himself sound weirder and weirder with every word.
The stranger raised his eyebrows and Jongin tried desperately to mold his self-explanation into something remotely normal-sounding. “Therefore...I look at things really...intensely. I guess. So...yeah. Sorry.” He forced himself to stop talking after that, lowering his eyes a little in embarrassment.
In doing so he noticed a beauty mark decorating the stranger’s neck just beneath the shadow of his jawline and Jongin found himself wanting to press his lips to it.
“Interesting. What kind of artist?” The other man’s voice drew Jongin’s eyes back up and his face burned a little at the fact that he had just been imagining kissing his lips and now his beauty mark. How creepy. He took a moment to appreciate that his thoughts were private.
“I paint,” Jongin answered, thinking it best to say as little as possible from now on.
“That’s cool,” the other responded. “I’m Sehun,” he added after a short pause.
“Jongin,” said Jongin.
“Nice to meet you, Jongin,” Sehun said. “And...for the record...it’s okay. I’m pretty sure I was staring at you for just as long.” He looked at him thoughtfully before adding, “And I’ve never held a paintbrush in my life.”
Jongin smiled, a little surprised by how flirtacious that had sounded.
Then Sehun asked, “Think it’s safe to get out of this closet now?”
“I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer, actually.” Jongin regretted opening his mouth again as he realized just how many ways that could be interpreted. The words had him practically holding his breath hoping he wasn’t coming across like a pervert until Sehun laughed. Jongin instantly relaxed at the light-hearted sound.
At that moment the door to the closet swung open and Chanyeol appeared in front of them, shock all over his face. “Oh my. I didn’t know we were playing 7 minutes in heaven. Carry on.”
He started to close the door again but Jongin wedged himself between the space between it and the frame. “Oh, no, we’re not, uh...” Jongin tried to explain, but Chanyeol had already disappeared off somewhere and Kyungsoo replaced him in Jongin’s line of sight.
“Jongin, there you are. So, Yura’s about to kick everyone out,” Kyungsoo told him, gesturing to the crowd of people around them. “‘Cause this is getting ridiculous.” Sehun popped out of the closet behind him and Kyungsoo looked past Jongin’s shoulder at him. “Oh? Who’s this?”
Jongin opened his mouth to speak but Sehun simply introduced himself, sticking out his hand for Kyungsoo to grasp. “Oh Sehun, born April 12th, 1994, childhood friend of Chanyeol and Yura, university student, and newly minted hallway closet connoisseur.”
“Right,” Kyungsoo said, looking like he was trying very hard to control his facial expression before turning back to Jongin.
“Is Yura really freaking out?” Jongin asked him. “Should we go?”
“No no, you guys at least have to stay, you’re some of the only ones she okayed me to invite in the first place,” Chanyeol said, suddenly appearing behind them again. “Oh, and I see you three met each other.”
Everyone smiled rather awkwardly, unsure what else to say.
“Well, don’t let me interrupt, keep talking,” Chanyeol said. “My friends should know everything there is to know about each other.” They stared at each other for another few seconds before he urged, “Speak! Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
Sehun was the first to actually say something as they followed Chanyeol upstairs. “Jongin was telling me that he’s an artist.”
Chanyeol turned to him. “Oh yeah, Jongin’s painted some really amazing pieces for us. Do you want to see?”
Sehun nodded enthusiastically and Jongin felt suddenly compelled to lower his expectations. “They’re really not that good..” he started to say, but they were already approaching the painting he had given to Chanyeol’s family as a Christmas gift one year hanging on the wall.
Chanyeol made a “ta-da” motion as they stopped in front of it, large hands framing the painting of a brilliant red and gold phoenix in flight.
“Wow, you really painted this?” Sehun asked, inching forward to study it closer.
“Um...yeah,” Jongin admitted sheepishly. “I know, it’s kinda--”
“Amazing,” Sehun finished for him and Jongin looked at him in surprise.
“Do you really think so?”
Sehun nodded, giving him that same little smile he had studied him with in the closet.
“Thank you,” Jongin said, smiling back.
“Oh!” Kyungsoo said as if he suddenly remembered something. “Jongin, I forgot about the beer on your shirt, did you want me to get my stain remover wipes from the car because I will definitely go get them right now, don’t worry.”
Jongin resisted the urge to laugh; Kyungsoo would carry those around with him. “Um, it’s really okay, hyung, I’ll just--” He had barely opened his mouth to reply before Kyungsoo was already rushing off.
Chanyeol looked at Jongin briefly before his eyes followed Kyungsoo. “I’ll go with you!” he called after him and trotted away also. Jongin blinked in confusion.
“And then there were two,” Sehun said, turning back to look at the painting again. “How long have you been doing things like this?”
“Well, it’s been many years,” Jongin answered. “I’m not sure exactly.”
“You’re really good.”
Jongin smiled shyly. Plenty of people had complimented his paintings--his friends did all the time, but hearing it from Sehun felt somehow...different. Jongin’s friends and family and teachers probably felt obligated to be nice or at least constructively helpful, but he had just met Sehun and yet he seemed so fascinated.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Sehun asked after a minute of silence.
Jongin shook his head and looked down, feeling a blush spread over his face. “I’m not thinking about anything interesting.”
“I am interested regardless.”
“I don’t know why,” Jongin chuckled.
Sehun shrugged. “I don’t really know why, either. You are interesting.”
Jongin could only stare, lips parted slightly before he realized he probably looked ridiculous and closed them.
“Has no one ever told you that before?” Sehun asked, seeing that he was clearly struggling to think of something to say.
“Just you, really,” Jongin said quietly.
Sehun laughed, but he looked a little more serious than Jongin had seen him yet. “Well, what then, do I not count?”
Jongin only smiled, still unsure how to reply.
Sehun took a tiny step closer that would be almost imperceptible if Jongin wasn’t already aware of every move the other made. He seemed so graceful.
“Has no one ever made you want get to know them? Made you feel comfortable with them? Even though you just met?”
Jongin thought for a moment before replying, “Just you.”
He met Sehun’s eyes and at first he immediately began mapping out how his features would look on paper again. The shadows just below his lips, the highlight on the bridge of his nose, the way his dark eyes reflected the light, Jongin knew how they could all be well-rendered in a work of art, but somehow he didn’t feel that painting what he saw would be satisfying enough. He wanted to learn what it felt like to place a hand on his cheek, to have his lips on his neck.
Jongin loved beginning a new painting, gradually building up the image in his mind from nothing more than shadow, highlight, and color. He loved the way his paintbrush felt in his hand as he guided it across the paper, but the way Sehun’s fingers fit in his felt even more natural, and their lips moved against each other’s more smoothly than a brush gliding on canvas.
Word count: 3000
Genre: AU, Romance
Summary: Jongin's one true love was painting. He thought nothing could be more fulfilling than art. But that was before he met Sehun, who, if he doesn't stop being his funny, quirky, dorky self, just might make Jongin fall in love with him. Written as a fill for this prompt on exopromptmeme.
Jongin paused mid-brushstroke to consult the photo he was painting from. The area around the horizon wasn’t coming out right; the sky still had slightly too much of a greenish tint even though Jongin had carefully mixed the color several times. He looked away for a moment and his eyes projected orange and pink after-images of sky and trees onto the white walls. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Maybe he’d been staring at the picture a little too long.
“You know that’s upside-down, right?”
Jongin almost fell out of his chair at the sudden breach of silence. He took a calming breath as he realized that he recognized the voice that had spoken, turning slowly around to face his visitor. “Hyung, how long have you been standing there?” He eyed his friend, Kyungsoo, who was standing by the door with his arms folded and half of a teasing smile on his face. He should have known he’d regret telling Kyungsoo the location of his spare key.
“Long enough to notice that your painting is upsid--”
“Yes, it is. Intentionally, I might add,” Jongin said before turning back around to squint at the landscape again. “All art students learn this...Holding your work upside-down defamiliarizes the objects in the painting, forcing you to view them as exactly that--objects, shapes. You think you know what a tree looks like, but what about this tree? The shadows, the angles of the branches, they’re all unique. If you want to paint realistically, you have to paint what you see.”
Kyungsoo blinked and Jongin felt his cheeks warm slightly, not having meant to launch into a long explanation.
“Anyway...what are you doing here?” Jongin asked.
“Well, you weren’t answering any of my calls or texts and I felt it was my duty as your friend to make sure you weren’t dead.”
Jongin laughed. “Aren’t you being a little paranoid?”
“No, actually, I don’t think I am,” Kyungsoo said, striding over to the fridge, opening it, and inspecting its contents with a critical look on his face. “When was the last time you went grocery shopping? When was the last time you even left your apartment?”
Jongin rested a cheek on his fist as he watched Kyungsoo check the inventory of his cabinets like a concerned parent. “Are we really going to start this again?”
Kyungsoo crossed the tiny kitchen into the living space, flopping onto the couch crammed up against the wall close to the desk Jongin was sitting at. “Chanyeol and his sister invited us and a few other people over to her house tonight. Please come.”
“Why?”
Kyungsoo looked at him incredulously. “Because, believe it or not, Jongin, you have friends--although sometimes I’m not sure how--and we miss you.”
Jongin shook his head, smiling. “Thank you for those sentiments...but I didn’t mean why should I come, I meant why are they having people over? Is there an occasion?”
Kyungsoo shrugged. “It’s Friday.”
“Is it really?” Jongin murmured with some disbelief, accidentally loud enough for Kyungsoo to hear.
“See??” Kyungsoo said. “You’ve been cooped up in here so long you’re losing track of the days, now please, Jongin, I implore you, please come tonight.”
Jongin glanced at his painting one more time, determining that since progress had more or less ground to a screeching halt about two and a half hours ago, taking the rest of the night off wouldn’t hurt. “What time?”
“Now? You can get ready, I’ll wait.” Kyungsoo tapped his fingers on the back of the couch and waited for Jongin to shower and dress.
He emerged from the bathroom 15 minutes later lazily tugging on a shirt, droplets of water still clinging to his hair. He rubbed his hair furiously with a towel and ran his fingers through his bangs a few times. “Okay, ready.”
Kyungsoo eyed his still-damp locks but got up from the couch anyway.
Jongin unclicked his seatbelt as Kyungsoo parked his car on the street by Yura, Chanyeol’s sister’s house. “So who else was coming?” he asked.
“I think just me, you, maybe Baekhyun, and a few of Yura’s other friends. I know I’ve met them all before but I’m not sure of their names.”
“Oh,” Jongin said as they walked up the short driveway and knocked on the door.
Someone opened it a crack and Yura’s voice reached them. “Whoever you are, I’m really sorry, but we only meant to invite a few people and we’re really not set up for--oh, it’s you.” She had opened the door all the way and stopped talking as she realized it was Kyungsoo and Jongin standing there. She sighed. “You guys can come in...if you still want to, that is.” She looked over her shoulder at the crowded areas of the house behind her, almost every available space filled with people talking, laughing, or rushing back and forth and up and down the stairs.
Jongin turned confusedly to Kyungsoo. “I thought you said--”
“I’m really sorry,” Yura said again before he could finish. “It really was supposed to be just you guys and a couple of my other friends, but Chanyeol invited more people and then they invited their friends, who invited more friends, and now...I think half the city might be in my house. If there is so much as one thread of carpet out of place by the end of the night, I’m going to kill my brother.”
Thinking that was almost inevitable given the amount of people here treading carelessly over the floor, Jongin feared for his friend’s life.
“Where is Chanyeol anyway?” asked Kyungsoo once they stepped inside.
“I think he might be downstairs. Last I saw him he was--hey!” She gasped, rushing off toward the living room. “Don’t put your glass down on that table! Use a coaster!!”
Almost immediately upon entering the madhouse that was the finished basement, someone was shoved almost directly into Jongin. Jongin leapt aside, narrowly avoiding the collision by practically tackling Kyungsoo instead, but he didn’t escape the wave of beer that sloshed out of the person’s glass onto Jongin’s white button-up.
“Sorry dude,” the other apologized and Jongin waved him off.
He turned back to Kyungsoo and sighed, inspecting the damage to the fabric. “I guess I better go try to rinse some of this out.”
Kyungsoo nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna try to find Chanyeol.”
They separated as Kyungsoo disappeared into the throng and Jongin started off in search of a bathroom. He came to a closed door slightly hidden from the main layout of the room and knocked. Hearing no reply from inside, he tried the knob and it swung open easily.
He promptly stumbled forward and got a face full of something fluffy--a towel? before he lost his balance further as someone walking by slammed the door shut from the hallway. The door smacked him on the back of the ankle and he toppled over into complete darkness, finding that the walls were a lot closer together than he had anticipated.
He straightened up and felt around him for a lightswitch, finding only some more fluffy material (a stack of towels, then? and possibly some blankets) and something significantly warmer and covered in a denim-like fabric.
“Um...hello there?” said a male voice in his ear and Jongin retracted his hand lightning-quick, not having expected the thing he was touching to talk. Apparently Jongin was not alone.
“Oh, um...sorry...I thought this was a bathroom.”
“Oh, nope, closet. I think you want the next door on the left.”
“Oh ok, thanks,” Jongin said, ready to push the door back open and leave, but his curiosity held him back. “Um. What are you doing in here? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I’m hiding from my friends,” the other said as if it that was a completely ordinary reply. “They keep trying to set me up with Yura and it’s just really awkward, honestly. I’ve known her and Chanyeol forever and I don’t think they get that I don’t like her like that. And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t either. Like me like that, I mean. And who says I want to be set up with anyone. Geez.”
“I understand,” Jongin said, finding himself chuckling along with the other’s monologue. “My friend insisted I come out tonight because I’ve been somewhat of a social recluse for a few days working on a project at home, but...I think that’s where I’d rather be right now, actually.”
“Seems like we’re kindred souls,” the other said. They both laughed. “Hey, I kinda want to see who I’m talking to, if that’s okay.”
Jongin nodded before he remembered that the other couldn’t see him, but he seemed to take the silence as assent.
“Let me see if there’s a light...” His body brushed against Jongin’s as he stepped forward, feeling around the walls for a switch. “Aha.” There was a click and a weak bar of light flickered to life above them.
It wasn’t much of an improvement, but Jongin could finally make out the other’s face awash in the dim light and his breath caught a little.
Despite the delicacy of his thin, oblong face and soft milky skin, he had a well-developed Adam’s apple, a sharp jaw and chin, and strong brows. He had a head of thick hair, dyed lighter than natural, and long bangs that fell over his forehead in a feathery arch. Fine little creases defined his eyelids and his big brown irises twinkled at Jongin in the low light. He had a tall, stately nose and small, pretty lips and Jongin wanted nothing more at that moment than to place a kiss on them...except for maybe to paint them along with the rest of his handsome features.
They both looked away quickly when they realized they’d more or less been staring at each other in silence for nearly thirty seconds. Jongin felt suddenly self-conscious of his unstyled hair and beer-soaked button-up.
“Ah, I’m sorry for staring,” Jongin felt like he should say and the other man looked back at him, but he said nothing; he was simply watching him with a tiny smile on those pretty lips. The silence made Jongin feel like he had to keep talking to fill it. “I’m an artist, so I’m really, uh, visual,” Jongin said, and inwardly cringed at how he was making himself sound weirder and weirder with every word.
The stranger raised his eyebrows and Jongin tried desperately to mold his self-explanation into something remotely normal-sounding. “Therefore...I look at things really...intensely. I guess. So...yeah. Sorry.” He forced himself to stop talking after that, lowering his eyes a little in embarrassment.
In doing so he noticed a beauty mark decorating the stranger’s neck just beneath the shadow of his jawline and Jongin found himself wanting to press his lips to it.
“Interesting. What kind of artist?” The other man’s voice drew Jongin’s eyes back up and his face burned a little at the fact that he had just been imagining kissing his lips and now his beauty mark. How creepy. He took a moment to appreciate that his thoughts were private.
“I paint,” Jongin answered, thinking it best to say as little as possible from now on.
“That’s cool,” the other responded. “I’m Sehun,” he added after a short pause.
“Jongin,” said Jongin.
“Nice to meet you, Jongin,” Sehun said. “And...for the record...it’s okay. I’m pretty sure I was staring at you for just as long.” He looked at him thoughtfully before adding, “And I’ve never held a paintbrush in my life.”
Jongin smiled, a little surprised by how flirtacious that had sounded.
Then Sehun asked, “Think it’s safe to get out of this closet now?”
“I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer, actually.” Jongin regretted opening his mouth again as he realized just how many ways that could be interpreted. The words had him practically holding his breath hoping he wasn’t coming across like a pervert until Sehun laughed. Jongin instantly relaxed at the light-hearted sound.
At that moment the door to the closet swung open and Chanyeol appeared in front of them, shock all over his face. “Oh my. I didn’t know we were playing 7 minutes in heaven. Carry on.”
He started to close the door again but Jongin wedged himself between the space between it and the frame. “Oh, no, we’re not, uh...” Jongin tried to explain, but Chanyeol had already disappeared off somewhere and Kyungsoo replaced him in Jongin’s line of sight.
“Jongin, there you are. So, Yura’s about to kick everyone out,” Kyungsoo told him, gesturing to the crowd of people around them. “‘Cause this is getting ridiculous.” Sehun popped out of the closet behind him and Kyungsoo looked past Jongin’s shoulder at him. “Oh? Who’s this?”
Jongin opened his mouth to speak but Sehun simply introduced himself, sticking out his hand for Kyungsoo to grasp. “Oh Sehun, born April 12th, 1994, childhood friend of Chanyeol and Yura, university student, and newly minted hallway closet connoisseur.”
“Right,” Kyungsoo said, looking like he was trying very hard to control his facial expression before turning back to Jongin.
“Is Yura really freaking out?” Jongin asked him. “Should we go?”
“No no, you guys at least have to stay, you’re some of the only ones she okayed me to invite in the first place,” Chanyeol said, suddenly appearing behind them again. “Oh, and I see you three met each other.”
Everyone smiled rather awkwardly, unsure what else to say.
“Well, don’t let me interrupt, keep talking,” Chanyeol said. “My friends should know everything there is to know about each other.” They stared at each other for another few seconds before he urged, “Speak! Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
Sehun was the first to actually say something as they followed Chanyeol upstairs. “Jongin was telling me that he’s an artist.”
Chanyeol turned to him. “Oh yeah, Jongin’s painted some really amazing pieces for us. Do you want to see?”
Sehun nodded enthusiastically and Jongin felt suddenly compelled to lower his expectations. “They’re really not that good..” he started to say, but they were already approaching the painting he had given to Chanyeol’s family as a Christmas gift one year hanging on the wall.
Chanyeol made a “ta-da” motion as they stopped in front of it, large hands framing the painting of a brilliant red and gold phoenix in flight.
“Wow, you really painted this?” Sehun asked, inching forward to study it closer.
“Um...yeah,” Jongin admitted sheepishly. “I know, it’s kinda--”
“Amazing,” Sehun finished for him and Jongin looked at him in surprise.
“Do you really think so?”
Sehun nodded, giving him that same little smile he had studied him with in the closet.
“Thank you,” Jongin said, smiling back.
“Oh!” Kyungsoo said as if he suddenly remembered something. “Jongin, I forgot about the beer on your shirt, did you want me to get my stain remover wipes from the car because I will definitely go get them right now, don’t worry.”
Jongin resisted the urge to laugh; Kyungsoo would carry those around with him. “Um, it’s really okay, hyung, I’ll just--” He had barely opened his mouth to reply before Kyungsoo was already rushing off.
Chanyeol looked at Jongin briefly before his eyes followed Kyungsoo. “I’ll go with you!” he called after him and trotted away also. Jongin blinked in confusion.
“And then there were two,” Sehun said, turning back to look at the painting again. “How long have you been doing things like this?”
“Well, it’s been many years,” Jongin answered. “I’m not sure exactly.”
“You’re really good.”
Jongin smiled shyly. Plenty of people had complimented his paintings--his friends did all the time, but hearing it from Sehun felt somehow...different. Jongin’s friends and family and teachers probably felt obligated to be nice or at least constructively helpful, but he had just met Sehun and yet he seemed so fascinated.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Sehun asked after a minute of silence.
Jongin shook his head and looked down, feeling a blush spread over his face. “I’m not thinking about anything interesting.”
“I am interested regardless.”
“I don’t know why,” Jongin chuckled.
Sehun shrugged. “I don’t really know why, either. You are interesting.”
Jongin could only stare, lips parted slightly before he realized he probably looked ridiculous and closed them.
“Has no one ever told you that before?” Sehun asked, seeing that he was clearly struggling to think of something to say.
“Just you, really,” Jongin said quietly.
Sehun laughed, but he looked a little more serious than Jongin had seen him yet. “Well, what then, do I not count?”
Jongin only smiled, still unsure how to reply.
Sehun took a tiny step closer that would be almost imperceptible if Jongin wasn’t already aware of every move the other made. He seemed so graceful.
“Has no one ever made you want get to know them? Made you feel comfortable with them? Even though you just met?”
Jongin thought for a moment before replying, “Just you.”
He met Sehun’s eyes and at first he immediately began mapping out how his features would look on paper again. The shadows just below his lips, the highlight on the bridge of his nose, the way his dark eyes reflected the light, Jongin knew how they could all be well-rendered in a work of art, but somehow he didn’t feel that painting what he saw would be satisfying enough. He wanted to learn what it felt like to place a hand on his cheek, to have his lips on his neck.
Jongin loved beginning a new painting, gradually building up the image in his mind from nothing more than shadow, highlight, and color. He loved the way his paintbrush felt in his hand as he guided it across the paper, but the way Sehun’s fingers fit in his felt even more natural, and their lips moved against each other’s more smoothly than a brush gliding on canvas.