A Million Ways to be Cruel (4/4)
Jongin fucked up.
“You fucked up.”
“I know that, asshole.”
“You. Fucked. Up.”
When Sehun’s grin is a smug one, you can feel it. Not like with normal people where you just see it or sense it. Sehun’s special brand of smugness fogs the air.
Right now, Jongin’s too frantic to care. “Are you done yet? I seriously need to know where Baekhyun went, so please stop fucking wasting my time, Sehun, you have the rest of the summer to prance around wearing your Asshole smile.”
“I don’t know where he went,” Sehun says. “And let me have my moment, jackass, I just won myself and Aston Martin! This is one of the happiest moments of my life. I could cry.”
“You haven’t won yet.”
Sehun rests his chin on his hand. “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re in denial.”
Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes spent on an entirely non-helpful conversation with Sehun, and Jongin had a feeling it wouldn’t have gone anywhere, anyway, so he has no one to blame but himself. It’s a compulsion; being around Sehun makes Jongin crave that sort of torture.
So he’s at a thirty-minute disadvantage when his Aston finally rips through the driveway, turning the rest of Seoul into a blur beyond his windshield. He thinks about Baekhyun, about how this is a total waste of time, anyway, because it’s not like Baekhyun is going to come running into Jongin’s arms when he sees him. Jongin wonders how well-equipped he is right now to handle a kick to the crotch.
Thinking about Sehun’s voice, a chorus of You. Fucked. Up, only makes Jongin step harder on the gas.
He finds Baekhyun, with all of his lugged and a keyboard case almost as big as he is, standing at a bus stop. Jongin’s fingers grow cold on the steering wheel. He can’t hide, because his is the only Aston Martin for miles, which is what he liked most about owning one, but it’s a pain in the ass on the days he’d rather go unnoticed.
He’s meters away when Baekhyun spots the car.
Baekhyun’s expression doesn’t change, although Jongin’s not sure if he saw the corner of his lip quirk up a little.
The problem with bus stops is, is that you can’t just stop at one at anytime, and Baekhyun could’ve made this easier for the both of them by walking over to the car, but no, he stays exactly where he is.
He’s still there when Jongin jogs up to him minutes later. Jongin belatedly realizes he’s left his sunglasses at home, and now he feels kind of naked.
When Jongin gets close enough, notices that that’s definitely a smile on Baekhyun’s face this time. “How’d you know where to find me?”
“As far as lost tourists go, predictable ones grab a taxi and drive off to the airport. Dorky ones find a bus stop and go wherever they feel. With a keyboard strapped to their back.”
“I was always crap at the whole running away thing,” Baekhyun says. “With you, anyway.”
“Lost tourists never stand a chance,” Jongin teases. “Stop trying.”
“Why’d you look for me, though?”
Jongin picks up both of Baekhyun’s suitcases. “I know what I want. I figured it out, and I’m finally sure of it this time.”
Jongin can feel his heart banging in his throat.
It’s a first. Normally, in these situations, the only thing throbbing is his dick. He often takes mental photographs to know what details to put into his diary later - innie or outie, level of drunkenness, how many inches - but as he watches Baekhyun unbutton his shirt in front of him, he doesn’t see details or descriptors or adjectives. He only sees Baekhyun.
Jongin is tongue-tied and it’s obvious, because there’s no background music to hide behind this time, no bottle of wine. He didn’t plan this one out.
So he stands there, every muscle tensing with the desire to reach out and touch, but paralyzed by the fear that once he does, he won’t be able to stop. Then all of Baekhyun’s clothes are pooled on the floor and Baekhyun steps closer to undress Jongin. Baekhyun’s hands aren’t shaky at all.
“Jongin,” Baekhyun says.
“Yeah.”
This whole thing is scary and new, not because Baekhyun trusts him - Jongin can make anyone trust him, it’s part of the whole pretty face thing - but because Baekhyun knows him, and he’s giving himself to Jongin anyway. Jongin hasn’t been with anyone who’s known him beyond his good looks, designer clothes, and father’s money before. There are at least eight different ways this could destroy him.
When they know you, you’re all out of options.
His breath comes out in stops and starts when Baekhyun curls his fingers around the waistband of Jongin’s boxers. He slowly drags it down and Jongin steadies himself on Baekhyun’s shoulders while stepping out of them.
Baekhyun stands up. He places a palm on Jongin’s upper arm and leans up to kiss him, and Jongin realizes it’s okay to touch, so he does. He deepens the kiss and lets his hand run through Baekhyun’s hair, trailing down his spine, the skin warm and smooth under Jongin’s chilly palms.
What Jongin likes about deflowering boys was how nervous they usually were. Jongin used to feed on that fear, relish the sense of control it brought him.
But Baekhyun isn’t nervous. Baekhyun pushes his tongue in deeper; it’s tentative, but he wants this. It knocks Jongin off his axis in a way he thinks he likes.
He can feel Baekhyun, fully hard, the tip of his cock pushing against Jongin’s thigh. Jongin holds him by the hips and turns him around, so they’re both facing the full-length mirror in his bedroom. He wants to see everything.
“We’re gonna - like this?” Baekhyun asks, blinking at his own reflection.
“To start with.”
“…Okay.”
Jongin runs a hand down Baekhyun’s torso, watching how his darker skin contrasts with Baekhyun’s milky white, and soon he wraps his hand around Baekhyun’s cock. He curves his head back in, burying his face into the hollow of Baekhyun’s neck. He breathes in. Even like this, Baekhyun still smells like fabric softener and soap
In the mirror, Jongin can see the way Baekhyun’s cheeks flush as the strokes gain rhythm, the way Baekhyun’s knuckles whiten as he grips Jongin’s thigh.
He flattens his free hand across Baekhyun’s flat stomach, and Baekhyun holds it in place, lacing his fingers with Jongin’s. Baekhyun squirms under the touch. He pushes his body up and back against Jongin, just enough that Jongin can feel himself getting hard against the small of Baekhyun’s back. The room is filled with no sound but that of the breeze outside and Baekhyun’s heavy, uneven breathing.
Baekhyun starts rocking his hips, fucking into Jongin’s fist. He turns his head to the side and presses his hot cheek into Jongin’s chest. Baekhyun’s nails already tight on Jongin’s thigh dig even deeper. “Oh God, Jongin, I’m -“
“It’s okay,” Jongin whispers into his shoulder. “Just go with it.”
And Baekhyun shuts his eyes and legs go, spilling into Jongin’s palm with a broken cry. What little ability he had left to remain standing was washed away by now, but Jongin’s there to hold him close before his knees give way.
They stay like that for about a minute, but if Jongin remains standing any longer, he’d probably topple over. He’s so hard it aches.
Baekhyun reaches the bed first. He doesn’t let go of Jongin’s writs, and tugs on it so Jongin tumbles forwards, fitting perfectly on top of him. Baekhyun kisses Jongin like they’ve got all the time in the world, and maybe tonight, they do. He closes his hand around Jongin’s cock, making Jongin gasp into the kiss. His hips grind downward into Baekhyun’s fist instantly.
It’s too soon when Baekhyun legs to and leans back on his elbows, allowing Jongin a full view of him stretched out against the dark sheets. Jongin seriously doesn’t know where the hell his head’s been the past month and a half to not notice that Baekhyun is this beautiful.
“Why’d you stop?” Jongin breathes.
Baekhyun grins dirtily and bumps his knee against Jongin’s hip. Oh. Oh.
“Oh. Um, we don’t have to.”
And fuck, Jongin really doesn’t know everything about Baekhyun, because Baekhyun’s smile only widens. “I know.”
Jongin would be a big fat liar if he pretended he didn’t want this, too, and that’s how he somehow manages to find a condom and lube in one of the drawers, even though his brain’s completely overheated by now.
“Just focus on the sensations, okay?” Jongin says. He kneels back and slowly inserts two slick fingers in Baekhyun, while his other hand grips Baekhyun’s knee. It’s hot and tight and Jongin is getting lightheaded from it all, so he keeps talking to distract himself. “Don’t rush anything, don’t wait for things to be different at some point. It’s supposed to feel good the whole time.”
“Right.” Baekhyun writhes around Jongin’s fingers, biting back a moan.
“And it shouldn’t hurt, ever. Not even a little. So if it hurts, you have to tell me. Okay?”
Baekhyun laughs. He reaches up to tunnel his fingers through Jongin’s hair. “Jongin, I won’t break.”
Yeah, so Jongin feels dumb and paranoid, but it’s Baekhyun. He doesn’t want this to hurt for Baekhyun at all.
“I think I’m ready now,” Baekhyun says, so Jongin slides his fingers out. Baekhyun reaches sideways to grab the condom and tear open the foil packet. He sits up. Jongin can see that he’s already half-hard again. “Can I?”
Jongin nods. They’re both watching wordlessly as Baekhyun rolls the condom on Jongin’s cock. Baekhyun lies back and slides his legs up until Jongin’s shoulders are behind his knees. Jongin steadies himself, planting his hands on the bed, on either side of Baekhyun.
The first thrust is agonizingly, quietly, sweetly slow, and Jongin keeps his eyes on Baekhyun the whole time. His breath comes out dry and shaky. “This okay?”
“Yes.” Baekhyun pauses, then places a hand on Jongin’s forearm. “…More.”
And now Jongin’s ready. He can give himself over, too. He wants to.
It’s harder, deeper, faster but not too rushed because he wants to make this moment last. Baekhyun whimpers, rakes his nails across Jongin’s back, and oh God, just, the way he looks right now, like this, parted lips and half-closed eyes, it makes Jongin’s vision go hazy around the edges. Baekhyun is hard again; with every down thrust, Jongin can feel Baekhyun’s cock pressing against his stomach, smearing pre-come on it.
“Jongin - I want-“
Jongin takes it in his grip and strokes, making Baekhyun throw his head back against the pillows with a groan.
It’s close, now. Jongin can feel little jolts of electricity rip through his thighs. He crushes his lips against Baekhyun and comes in Baekhyun, and it’s, just. It’s way too much and not nearly enough. He doesn’t know what to think of it, but he does know that he can’t stop kissing Baekhyun.
He keeps on kissing him as he strokes him the rest of the way, until Baekhyun’s body tenses up and his hands grasp Jongin’s shoulders. Baekhyun bites on Jongin’s lower lip hard enough for it to hurt a little, and it’s a sweet kind of burn.
They only stop as Jongin gradually pulls out. He drops the condom in the bin next to the night stand. There’s a towel handing on the chair, so he takes that, shuts off the bedroom light and crawls back into the bed next to Baekhyun.
“Sorry,” he whispers, gently wiping it down Baekhyun’s chest and stomach. “It can get messy sometimes.”
“Messy means it was good right? I don’t mind messy.”
He can still see Baekhyun’s faint silhouette under the dim moonlight coming in through the window. Baekhyun laughs.
Jongin sets aside the towel. “What?”
Baekhyun presses his face into Jongin’s shoulder, giggling some more. “This is sorta not what I expected when my dad told me we’d be moving to Seoul.”
“It’s the city. Anything can happen.” Jongin smiles a little. “How do you feel?”
“Weird.” Baekhyun lifts his head, so Jongin can see his eyes glimmering against the dimness. “And kind of wonderful.”
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting to fall this hard for some goody-two shoes, either, so we’re even.”
He can see Baekhyun’s eyebrows go up and Jongin swats him.
“Mm-hmm. And how do you feel?”
“Scared out of my fucking mind,” Jongin says honestly. “And also kind of wonderful.”
Baekhyun shifts up on the bed to kiss him. It’s soft and he takes his time, a series of short, light kisses rather than one long one.
When Baekhyun pulls back he’s grinning ear to ear. “I can’t sleep. I don’t know. I think I’m too excited to fall asleep. Is that weird?”
“Yes. That’s super weird.” At least from what Jongin remembers. The boys who usually bothered to stay the night just rolled over, checked out and vanished the next day, so this is super weird. Jongin leans back into the pillow, closes his eyes, then eventually says, “… Okay, I can’t sleep either.” He sits up on the bed and holds out his arms. “Come here.”
Baekhyun does, nestling easily under Jongin’s arms to rest his head on Jongin’s chest. Jongin drapes the comforter around both of them.
They’re facing the open window. It’s dark, except for the faint, yellowish moon. “I always leave the window open so I can look at the constellations. There aren’t any stars out tonight, but you know, cloud gazing can be fun too. We can do that until we fall asleep.”
The clouds are feathery, in varying shades of purple and blue. Baekhyun can see a sleeping cat. Jongin sees a dick.
“Of course you do.”
But Baekhyun leans deeper into Jongin’s embrace, anyway. Jongin asks Baekhyun what his astrological sign is, because he knows that Baekhyun knows that he’s speaking honestly when he’s asking. Baekhyun tells Jongin that he’s a Taurus. Jongin tells Baekhyun that he could tell that he was a Taurus before he even said anything, but just asked to be polite. He tells Baekhyun about how Tauruses are patient, reliable, warmhearted and loving (definitely Baekhyun), and very sensual (ha, yes). Jongin knows astrology like the back of his hand, just like how he knows how to read palms, so he can recite a laundry list of Taurus personality traits without batting an eyelash, even though the only thing he can focus on right now is the slow rise and fall of Baekhyun’s chest, the warmth of his skin, the way he nods and hums as he listens to Jongin talk.
Jongin doesn’t want to fall asleep.
He knows when he wakes up tomorrow he has to face the real world again, but this right here feels real enough. He likes this, talking about astrology, just him and Baekhyun wrapped in a big comforter, and he doesn’t have to think or care about anything else. He keeps talking, occasionally stopping to press kisses into Baekhyun’s hair; he wants to be a wake and present as long as he can tonight.
His heart skips a beat when he wakes up.
Baekhyun isn’t there.
Jongin buries his face in the mattress and has a minute-long mental freakout over this, because what if Baekhyun had planned this all along, and now that he’d slept with Jongin he would write a huge article for the school paper about how Kim Jongin has vanilla sex with vanilla boys, and Kim Jongin is now hopelessly in love with this vanilla-boy-slash-devious-mastermind, and he’ll become a laughing stock and Baekhyun will dump him in public and leave Jongin’s heart in a million broken pieces on the St. Joseph’s auditorium floor. Maybe Jongin could get revenge Song Jieun-style. He could afford to burn one of the cheaper cars, no problem.
…Or. Or maybe it’s something simpler, like if Baekhyun realized that a relationship with Jongin would be a trainwreck of major proportions, and he decided to get his pretty ass out of the city before the damage became irreparable. Jongin certainly wouldn’t blame him.
“Good morning.”
So Baekhyun has actually been standing by the window this entire time, and Jongin is a big dork.
Baekhyun’s hair sticks up in all directions. He’s wearing nothing but Jongin’s button up from yesterday, drowning in it, really - its thin dark fabric reaches down past his thighs.
Jongin shakes his head. “You’re criminally adorable.”
“Does ‘adorable’ get me breakfast?”
Jongin enters the kitchen grinning like a motherfucker, his hair still damp from the shower.
“What’ll it be today, Jongin?” Mrs. Lee asks. “And also, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
See, Jongin can not stop grinning like a motherfucker, and even the family’s personal chef has noticed. She puts her hands on her hips.
“I had a good night,” Jongin says.
“You nailed Lee Min Ho three months ago and you were still the same raging asshole the following morning, so I’m not sure I understand what constitutes a ‘good night’ for you.”
“Nice boy. Nice conversation. We talked about astrology.” Jongin pokes around the cupboard. “I feel like making myself breakfast this morning. You mind?”
Mrs. Lee steps back, eyeing him suspiciously.
Jongin would definitely like to cook breakfast for Baekhyun, he’s in that kind of mood today, and that shit is like Halley’s Comet so he’s going to cook before the mood goes into hiding for another 75 years. He scans the rest of the kitchen ingredients.
He hopes Baekhyun likes Cap’n Crunch. Everybody like Cap’n Crunch, right?
Thirty minutes later, Jongin returns to his bedroom carrying a try with two servings each of bacon, eggs and waffles. He always knew Mrs. Lee was a control freak.
“It was very,” Jongin pauses to think of a sufficiently vague term, “…missionary.”
“What, scented candles and ‘Red Lights Special’ missionary? I see how it is - keep your shiny car, lose your balls forever. Well, I guess it’s a fair trade.”
Jongin wasn’t even sure he wanted to tell Sehun about what happened the other night, but Sehun had cornered him under the staircase and dragged him by his collar to the deserted study, where he pushed Jongin down onto one of the chairs. Those thin fingers hold a surprising amount of power in them. As does Sehun himself, but Jongin already knew that.
Those thin fingers are now undoing Jongin’s belt. “I gotta say, I honestly thought you’d met your match,” Sehun says. He straddles Jongin’s lap. “Never expected you to pull it off.”
It’s unreal, having the lips he’s always wanted to kiss only millimeters away from his own. Jongin knows this face so well he could sketch it with his eyes closed. And he’s wanted this for so long that he knows exactly how it should happen, exactly how it should feel.
Not like this.
Jongin knows that leaning away from Sehun wasn’t in the script.
Sehun rolls his eyes. He pushes himself off of Jongin. “So you’re monogamous now? God, you need your Gay card revoked.”
“It’s not that,“ Jongin says weakly as his mind files through a list of possible excuses. He straightens up on the chair. “I want to savor this. Handcuffs and all that romantic crap.”
“They’re in my room, let’s go,” Sehun says, tugging at Jongin’s wrist. Jongin doesn’t budge. “For fuck’s sakes, Jongin! Is this not what you want? Because I can distinctly remember that you would’ve killed to have me, or have I been imagining the last three years?”
“I’m just not in the mood right now!”
His words echo against the glass windows. Sehun’s grip goes slack. They stare at each other.
“Whether or not you fucked him,” Sehun says, “I think you lose in the long run.”
The confusion doesn’t stop, even after every thread of Jongin’s inner workings is out in the open for Baekhyun to see. This afternoon, Jongin isn’t sure if he wants to stay in bed all day with his…Baekhyun, or if he wants to spend that time playing “Oppa, Gangnam Style” for a crowd of old farts and talk to Heechul again. Decisions, decisions.
But Baekhyun is not in the living room when Jongin comes back carrying two servings of Jjajjangmyun for the both of them. Baekhyun isn’t in the study, or the garden, or the guest bedroom. What is in the guest bedroom, however, is Jongin’s journal.
“Shit.”
It’s in the middle of the now-bare mattress, next to the carefully folded comforter and bedsheets, and a note.
On the tiny yellow paper is what Jongin assures is Baekhyun’s hasty scrawl.
I don’t get it.
I saw most of your imperfections and loved you despite, or even because of them. What’s the point in keeping secrets?
I’m not sure if I like this game.
-Baekhyun.
Jongin holds up the journal. “Seriously?”
Sehun whispers a quick “I’ll call you back.” and puts down the phone. The way he smiles right then makes Jongin want to punch him. “Impressive, right? Amazing what a hundred bucks and an underpaid housekeeper will get you.”
“No really, S, we need to fucking talk!” Jongin hurls the journal at him. Sehun nearly tips over his chair as he dodges it.
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t get to read it,” Sehun says. “The maid only barely missed getting caught. You were pulling up in the driveway when she found the key to your drawer. Bitch can run.”
“I don’t even know why I waste my time on you.” Jongin can’t even yell anymore. He’s too disgusted to yell.
He only makes it a few feet closer to the door when Sehun blocks his way.
“You think I do this for shits and giggles? You’re missing the big point here, Jongin. I’m doing this to protect you.”
Jongin’s breathing only gets this intense when he’s truly pissed. “Please wipe that begging-for-sympathy look off your face. Your faux-sincerity is so barftastic up close.”
“I’m not fucking with you.” Sehun doesn’t budge from his spot in front of the door. “Have you lost your goddamn mind? You and Krissy Dee from nowhere - how could you possibly think that would end well? ‘Baekhyun and Jongin, saving the world one puppy at a time?’ Gimme a break. You think you’ve changed, but people never change, not really. You and I, we’re the same.” He takes one step closer, speaking in a more careful, delicate tone. “It’s why we’re so good together. We’re irreparably fucked up, all damaged goods and insecurity masquerading as vanity, but we get each other. That sunshiney boyfriend of yours, he’s gonna want you to change. Either you become a different person completely, or you stay the same beautifully dysfunctional Jongin you are, and you drag him headfirst into your little world of bourbon and daddy issues. Give him six months; he’ll be exactly like you.”
It takes Jongin way too long to finally say, “I would never.”
“You could. I know you.”
Jongin closes his eyes and breathes. He doesn’t feel strangled, but locked in. It was never Sehun’s style to strangle. He’s too clever for that.
Sehun’s hand, not particularly warm or cold, frame Jongin’s face. “I’m just telling you what your options are. And I’m also telling you that I would never ask you to change. I don’t want to lose you. I want you just as you are.”
It’s like a bucket of cold water in his face when he finally opens his eyes. Sehun’s still staring up at him, gaze firm and determined. Jongin backs out of his grasp, but he doesn’t head for the door, either. He walks to a chair at the opposite end of the room to barely sit at the edge of it.
“You’ll thank me someday,” Sehun says.
The Oh Sehun method of self- healing always involves liquid latex and colorful drinks with questionable ingredients. It had worked for Jongin in the past, so when Sehun invites him out tonight, he doesn’t say no.
He sits at the bar with his…whatever’s in his glass, and waits for the healing to begin. It’s gonna happen. It will.
The mixed drink is purple at the bottom and turns blue towards the top of the glass, kind of like the clouds that night when - Jongin downs the drink immediately.
What’s supposed to happen right now is either his latest Prince Charming walks, no, glides through the club doors, or he has an alcohol-fueled epiphany about how fan-fucking-tastic his life is, and how shitty it would be had he never met Sehun (it would’ve been a lot more boring, that’s for sure), and Byun Baekhyun is like any dude in the world. Byun Baekhyuns can be assembled at home; all you need is a pair of polka dot shorts, a keyboard, and a cute smile.
No epiphanies so far. Jongin turns around to look at the doorway. There’s a Prince Charming, all right, but he’s walking out the exit with his hand on Sehun’s ass.
And now Jongin’s alone at the club, waiting for the recovery process to work its magic on him.
Any moment now.
Thursdays are now officially for shopping. Jongin had to rework his weekly schedule ever since Sehun’s English tutorials were canceled, and Sehun’s Mom’s method of self-healing always involves shopping. It’s worth a shot.
He’s on his way up the mansion steps with bags in each hand when he sees Kris by the open doorway.
“Oh, hey Jongin, Don’t mind me, I’ll be gone in a minute,” Kris says. “I’m just waiting for Luhan.”
“But I thought you were…?”
“Yeah, Luhan and his mom had The Talk, and she hired me back. Someone’s a little too excited to become a PFLAG mom,” he sing-songs. They exchange glances, and cracks up.
Jongin sets down the bags and leans across from him on the doorframe. “You and Luhan, huh. So it’s official now?”
“Ha. Um. We’re dating exclusively, yes.” Kris shyly runs his hand through his hair.
“I don’t mean to sound douchey, but what do you see in him? You’re hot and really smart, and Luhan is…”
“Hot but really not-smart?”
Jongin throws his hands up. “I was gonna say ‘not entirely intellectually stimulating’ but that too.”
“He makes me laugh,” Kris says. “And he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know.”
They hear a “Hey-oooo!” from the hallway, and they both know what that means. Jongin keeps his eyes on Kris, who glances down the hall and absolutely lights up when he sees Luhan. And Jongin thinks that, for once in his life, he knows exactly what that feels like.
“See you when school starts?”
“Sure,” Jongin says.
Luhan and Kris aren’t even halfway down the steps when Jongin runs up to them and says the four words he never says to anyone: “I need your help.”
Jongin blinks down at the open page of his journal.
Dear Baekhyun,
Baekhyun,
I want to tell you how I feel
I'm sorry that
I never meant to
You're better off without Fuuuuuuuck.
Dear Jongin,
You’re an idiot.
“It didn’t change me.”
Sehun pauses, one hand on the knot of his necktie. He eyes Jongin through the mirror’s reflection. “What?”
“Falling in love. It didn’t change me; it just made me realize things about myself that I never saw before.” Jongin stands tall in the doorway and looks Sehun squarely in the eyes. “So, you may be right. Maybe I am lame. I’m a sucker, I’m a dickless wonder, and I don’t get enough hugs. At least I know it now.”
“Good for you.”
“Dad gave me the keys to his beach house.” Jongin swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “I think you and I need to spend some time away from each other to figure things out. And after what I’m about to do today, you might never want to see me again, which I’ll completely understand, but I hope you know that I don’t think you’re a bad person. I never did,” he says. “We’re not bad people - we just have a bit of growing up to do.”
Sehun’s gaze falls to the assortment of products scattered on the dresser. He chews his lip, scoops out another bit of hair wax and goes back to fixing his hair. “Just go, Jongin.”
Jongin thinks that maybe Sehun gets it; even if he’s doing everything he can to not let it show.
He walks over to kiss Sehun on the cheek. “I’ll see you at school.”
Jongin’s quickly getting used to seeing Kris’s face on a video screen. Right now, it’s on the screen of Jongin’s iPhone. Jongin rests his elbows on the steering wheel and tilts his phone downward to protect it from the glare of the morning sunlight.
“Loud and clear,” Jongin says, his voice the only sound along the currently deserted stretch of road in front of St. Joseph’s. “Where’s Luhan?”
The video pans from Kris to the other end of the St. Joseph’s auditorium. Half-obscured in dim lighting, Luhan has his back turn to the camera. He’s carrying a stack of bound manuscripts, handing each student a copy. “Working on it,” Kris says.
“Damn. I like the way he fills that uniform.
Kris’s grin is back on the cellphone screen. “I’m a lucky guy.”
In the background, they hear feedback from the sound system, followed by Sehun’s unmistakable voice beginning a thoroughly rehearsed “Welcome back, students” speech. In the video, Jongin can see that Sehun doesn’t even look down once at his cue cards.
Two more lines of “this is the first day of the rest of your life” bullshit, and then Jongin’s view of him is obscured. Students in the rows before Kris get up to leave.
“Hey, where are you - this is really rude, people!” Sehun’s voice cracks and his lisp makes him falter.
“The shit has officially hit the fan,” Kris whispers. “You’re sure you planned everything out?”
”Down to the last detail. There is absolutely no way this can go wrong.”
The view shifts to the open manuscript in Kris’s lap. It’s a photocopy of Jongin’s journal. Kris turns the pages, stopping when he sees Luhan’s name.
Fuck.
“…Um, Jongin?”
“Signal’s spotty, talktoyoulaterKrisbye!” Jongin shoves his phone inside the glove compartment and slams it shut. Okay, so there’s room for one very minor gaffe in his otherwise fail-proof plan.
Luhan’s one of the first boys to emerge from the school doors, hands now empty of journal copies. He gives Jongin two overenthusiastic thumbs up when he sees him. Jongin can only wave uncomfortably and sink further into the driver’s seat of his Aston because sometimes, having the top down on your convertible is not the coolest thing in the world.
The crowd outside the school grows quickly. Tons of them litter the area now, students and teachers, some amused, some scandalized, some embarrasses. And then there’s Baekhyun, who sticks out like a sore thumb as always, even though he’s wearing the same trousers, dark jacket, and necktie as every other student.
He walks over to Jongin, a copy of the journal tucked under his arm.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“So,” Baekhyun says. “Why, exactly?”
Jongin shrugs. “No more secrets. They know what you know, what I know.”
Baekhyun shuffles through the pages. “I’m not in it, though.”
“It was a book of conquests. You were never a conquest.”
“Took guts, especially to include the letter to me at the end.” Baekhyun turns to the last page and reads aloud. “Baekhyun, figuring out what I wanted wasn’t the hard part. It was figuring out whether or not I deserved to have it. And even though I don’t have a firm answer for that yet, I do know that I can’t not try - “
“Motherfuck!” Jongin yells, snatching the copy from him. “Luhan is such a dumbass! It was private, it was in a sealed envelope and shit!”
Baekhyun grins. “Or maybe he’s smarter than you think.” Because Baekhyun always believes the best in people, even dumbasses like Luhan and slutty jerkwads like Jongin.
He’s probably right this time around, though. Luhan 1, Jongin 0
“I would’ve gotten to you sooner,” Baekhyun says, “but it wasn’t exactly easy getting through a crowd of schoolboys who all wanted to high-five me.”
Kim Jongin, trophy fuck. Everything has officially come in full circle.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kris come down the steps. Luhan’s leaning against the gate. When their eyes meet, Luhan looks like a kicked puppy and it makes Jongin feel genuinely bad about everything.
Kris stops a few steps away from him and holds his arms out. Luhan walks into his embrace.
And though minor fuck-ups may be inevitable even in the most detailed plans, sometimes these things just work themselves out.
Until Baekhyun reminds him that, no, not quite: “You’re aware that my dad now knows about us, right?”
“Oh, shit.” Jongin buries his face in his hands. Murphy’s Law is totally wiping the floor with Jongin right now.
“Hey, hey.” Baekhyun takes Jongin’s hand in his. “You’re not keeping any secrets, neither am I. We can deal with this together. My dad’s a cool dude, you should meet him sometime.”
“I’m sure he is, but I’m still fucking thrilled that I never have to step foot in St. Joseph’s ever again.”
“You’re not worried?”
“Nope!” Jongin chirps. “I’ve got nothing to lose. Fuck Hanyang University and business. I’m gonna take a stab at the dancing thing. Why the hell not, you know? You were right, I do have dreams.”
“You do.” Baekhyun smiles. He’s now the guy who convinced Kim Jongin to ditch college plans to become an actor. Clearly, everyone is smarter than Jongin thinks.
But he’s surprisingly okay with it. Everything feels okay now. It’s a nice windy day, the start of the new school year, Baekhyun’s hands are warm and the sunlight’s warm and it turns Baekhyun’s eyes a warmer shade of brown. Jongin cups his face in his hands and kisses him, sparking an eruption of cheers and hooting from the schoolboys (and faculty?), and it sounds completely clichéd but today is, without a doubt, the first day of the rest of his life.
The buzz coming from the school dies down quickly. They break the kiss to glance over. The students are all speechless, but they’re not paying attention to Baekhyun or Jongin; their eyes are on Sehun at the top of the steps. Standing next to him is the headmaster’s assistant - yes, that headmaster’s assistant, and they’re both being scolded by Headmaster Byun in a way that makes Jongin very certain that he’s not yet ready to come over for dinner with Baekhyun and this guy yet. And everybody else can probably tell that Sehun won’t be getting into Seoul National University. Or maybe even St. Joseph’s, after today.
“You think he’ll be okay?” Baekhyun asks, glancing in Sehun’s direction.
“Boys like Sehun can only learn the hard way, so at least this way he’s learning something. He’ll thank me someday.”
As Sehun descends from the staircase like a fallen king, he spots Jongin and glares, dainty and venomous at the same time.
“…Okay, maybe not in this century, but someday. This helps him in the long run, I think,” Jongin says. “Sehun’s always secretly dreamed of ditching school and making a living off of fucking famous people.”
Baekhyun tightens his grip on Jongin’s hand. “He’d better no try that crap with you. My dad made me take Hapkido lessons when I was 11. I have a Ph. D in ass-kicking.”
“I don’t doubt it for a minute.” He really doesn’t
Then Baekhyun’s lips are on his again, and Jongin is extremely happy to lean against his freshly-waxed Aston Martin and make out with his - oh God, his boyfriend, his adorable, polka dot wearing, Taurus boyfriend, who has a Ph. D in ass-kicking.
“I really should get back to school,” Baekhyun says against his lips.
Jongin tilts his head in his car’s direction. “Play hooky with me? Just once?”
Byun Baekhyun isn’t easily corrupted, but he’ll allow this one exception.
To Jongin’s surprised, Baekhyun heads straight for the drivers side. He swings himself over the top of the car door landing right on the seat. In the glove department, he finds Jongin’s favorite pair of sunglasses and slips them on. They look pretty fucking hot on him.
He grins up at Jongin. “Going my way, baby?”
Jongin doesn’t even think to object. He just laughs and hands Baekhyun the car keys before getting into the passenger seat.
A/N: -So this took me forever to write since and i thank my dear diana and lien for dealing with me while i wrote this. Also, by writing this i've decided to jump on the bandwagon of highschool au's which i swore i'd never be able to write but now i'm just like wow, i wrote 20k worths of it.
-Also i went through so much turmoil through characterization while writing this which is why Sehun is like SUPERRR OOC like...i didn't mean to make him sound like such a bitchy whiny chick at parts LOL
-Lastly, i decided to change the ending of the actual movie cruel intentions and make this happy because GAWD there has been WAYY TOO MUCH ANGST AND SAD DEPRESSING FEELS in the exo fanfiction world and just wow i needed to write something happy