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Jongin knew he was not going to be out to some convenient store this time since he was home. He tried not to let it bother him too much as he check over the fridge. But he found himself walking in the street to buy a dinner.

He went to one of the old ramen restaurant in the street, Mrs. Park owns it. She was, Jongin remember, the best ramen cook in their village. She was cool, she was kind and fluffy.

He walked down the street and went to the old restaurant. As he walked by, he can’t resist looking over at the house at the corner of the street. As he walked past the house, he subconsciously walked slower. This was the only section on the walk to anywhere else that gave him a little bit of the creeps. He didn’t mean the amount of superficial, but the house was so quiet and looked abandoned. This was also the only unit the owner of the hamlet wanted to pull down since the rumours and its quality of uneasiness made a bit of a scarce in the real estate business. Lived there was the Business man Mr. Jeon, who was the pioneer resident in the village. He died eight years ago and found dead in his room, committed suicide. He was found dead a year after he adopted a child, a sixteen year old orphan—who—for odd reason—hadn’t been seen by anyone. They say he was conveyed under government welfare. No one in village had heard anything from him since.
Few more minutes when he reached the ramen restaurant in the next street, he came forward towards the counter.

‘Come in, Jongin,’ Mrs. Park called, cleaning the flatform with a wash cloth. It was getting to the point where he wasn’t all going to just buy a dinner.

Mrs. Park was his school parent. He can still remember. ‘Maybe I could encourage students in my school to try your ramen Mrs. Park. You’ll sell more ramen.’ Young Jongin said.
Mrs. Park laughed ridiculously at the joke, and then speculative looks crossed her face, as if this young boy might have stumbled by accident onto a good idea.

A month after Mrs. Park has been the first ramen vendor to sell hundreds a day in the cafeteria inside the school. They made good friendship since then.

‘Hi,’ Jongin said, coming to a halt.

‘How was the work?’ Mrs. Park asked. She wandered into the counter, tidying up as she went. Sometimes she reminded him of his old times.

‘Fine,’ Jongin said. ‘working on my tolerance for the back jobs.’

‘Wonderful progress today of yours has.’ She remarked, giving out a blessed smile.

Jongin’s lips curve into a genuine smile. ‘Right. Okay, I go for the usual.’

Mrs. Park turned to preparing his order. After a minute Mrs. Park came forward to prepare the seasonings for his noodles. She noticed his frequent glances towards the house in the corner of the main street.

‘I’m still unsure what’s real. I see people never stopped talking about it. At times, I’m positive that he is innocent for the accusations. But then, the death of Mr. Jeon was clear to me, as well.’

‘Wouldn’t it help if they start investigating the case again?’ he asked as he stared into the bowl of noodles being topped of vegetables and spices.
The door on the far left of the shop opened.
“Hey, Jongin.” A voice suddenly interrupted. He glides over to Jongin and wrapped his long arms around Jongin’s shoulders. “the weather is getting cold. Common let’s have a drink.”
Mrs.Park frowned and threw her arms in the air, reaching out to grab his son. “Shut up you egomaniac moron. Leave Jongin alone. I told you to clean up the back room.”
Chanyeol, Mrs.Park’s son, let go of Jongin and made his way inside the counter. He grabbed a bottle of soju before he went back inside.
Jongin smiled at Mrs.Park and began to continue their earlier conversation.
Mrs. Park sighed and her eyes glazed. Jongin waited patiently as he watched her. Her wrinkled face puckered even more in the uncertainty of her thoughts. ‘It is no use. The boy was underage back then and he cannot be charged. I heard he was taken into some government welfare for children but there was no news about him. They say he was found living in Mr. Jeon’s house again but no one here saw him. God must be good if he’s still alive at this moment. I’m sorry for the word.’

‘I guess so.’ Jongin agreed. He listened intently while she described the remaining information she knew. Jongin was only fifteen when Mr. Jeon died and he never saw the boy even once before. The boy was said to be living in Mr. Jeon’s house a year before Mr. Jeon found dead in his bedroom.
They were chatting more when a customer entered the store. Since Jongin was standing in the counter, he moved aside to give the customer a space.
‘Good evening,’ Mrs. Park said with laughter still tinting her voice. ‘May I help you?’
Jongin noted that the customer was about his age, maybe a year or two older, and that he wasn’t one of the residents in the village. He was shorter than him and had a very pale skin. His features under his cap and jacket seemed as if they had been perfectly smoothed by a marble sculptor, judging at the colouring of his hands—the only skin that is exposed. The man was definitely handsome, but something in his feature caused Jongin to have an unsettled feeling.
‘I am sorry to take you away from your conversation,’ the man said apologetically.
Jongin felt rather than saw that Mrs. Park let herself not react and had resisted to look over at him at the words. ‘That’s all right. What would you like to eat today?’
‘I’ll have a noodles.’ The man said, hiding his face behind his cap.
Mrs. Park caught herself before she rolled her eyes. Really, some customers were dense. ‘What kind of noodles you like?’
The man looked a little surprised by her question and asked. ‘What different kinds of noodles are there?’
Mrs. Park tried to keep a calm look on her face as she pointed to the back wall where there were the listings of over nine different kinds of noodles. ‘Take your pick,’ she said.
He seemed overwhelmed by the sheer number of noodle styles and after a minute of deliberating asked, ‘Can’t I just have a bowl of plain noodle?’
‘Sure. Regular or Spicy?’
‘Um…regular?’ It sounded like he was asking her if that was what he should have. Jongin thought that was weird. He was taken unawares that his order had been taking up its time to handle the absence of his attention.
Jongin was a little appalled when Mrs. Park attends him again for his noodles. He picked his order and glided to one of the tables. He went, leaving the man a space he deserves.
Jongin made his way to his chair and started eating. He settled in a table where he can look over at the man in the counter. Jongin thought that it is necessary to trust your premonition instinct. Watching them, Mrs. Park made his regular, plain bowl of noodles and placed it on the counter. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out the bill and asked, ‘Is this enough?’
No wallet, thought Jongin. Just another reason to add to the man’s growing list of idiosyncrasies. Mrs. Park took the bill politely and awkwardly watched the man attentively. Like Mrs. Park, Jongin also felt the same tautness in the present situation. But he knew Mrs. Park was also trying not to show any sign of jitteriness.
Mrs. Park placed the coins on the counter. When the man looked at her with a confused expression, Mrs. Park said, ‘That’s your change.’
The man put the money back into his pocket, picked up the bowl, and walked over to the table by the wall. There was one table between Jongin’s table and the man’s table. Jongin could see everything from his view. He watched him. The man sat down and took a sip his noodle soup. By his reaction, one would have assumed he seemed to be painstakingly careful, always paying close and continues attention, like Jongin, they both possess the state of readiness to respond. Jongin turned to Mrs. Park and saw that she looked just as wary as he was. Periodically, Jongin would peek at him and see what he was doing. Every time he looked over at him, he saw that the man was in the exact same position. He sat with his elbow leaned in on the table, head lowered under his cap. That was all he did. Not once did he take another strip of noodles.

The silent commotion was not relaxing. Jongin took another glance at the man. As he did so, he noticed the man was watching him closely with an edgewise, but he cannot picture his eyes that were dark under his cap. This unnerved him a little, so he prepared himself to stand up. Jongin felt it best to end this strange discomfort as soon as possible. But when he flinched in his chair he heard the man get up from his chair and a loud thud soon followed as his nearly full bowl of noodles landed in the counter. Mrs. Park abruptly moved to the counter and forced a smile and said, ‘Have a good night.’
The man was almost at the door when he turned and said, ‘Goodnight.’ It looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. In the end, he just shook his head like he was deciding against something and headed out the door.
Jongin was thoroughly baffled by him. He was so strange. Quickly, he returned his bowl to Mrs. Park to try to have a second opinion in analyzing the man’s behaviour and he found that he has not finished his meal as well.
Mrs. Park was certainly unnerved this time. She picked up the bowl in earnest and look over at the door to check out the remaining presence of the man, when she found none, ‘Do you know that guy?’
‘No.’ He said, looking over outside as Mrs. Park was.
‘He looked like he’ll do something bad.’ Mrs. Park said and then shrugs, ‘It’s getting late, you must go home now, Jongin, quickly.’
About another minute he headed out the door and walked down the streets. Since then, he could not resist the feeling of uneasiness. The empty streets made it worse. But the rest of his way home went smoothly. No more abnormal somebody with a strange loathing for noodles.


*


Jongin was early to his work load as usual. Since his job has no time route like the cogs in the offices. He sat quietly at his desk and began to work with his new project. The project seemed to be a short term so he decided to be more progressive than his usual arrangement. And since the client was a bit too demanding on designs, he needed more passion in tolerance. Jongin heard the doorbell rang as he was beginning to be in his momentum.
His activity was interrupted by the pizza delivery boy standing in the doorsill.
‘Good morning Mr…’ said the delivery boy as he went on reading the receipt on top of the pizza box. ‘Mr. Jeon?’
That meticulously gave him a pause, his discomfort growing ferociously.
In this, the delivery boy fumbled the receipt and began to read the address in a new wave of derangement running over his face.
Jongin didn’t know if it would help the mistake resolved by telling the delivery boy that the person he was looking for was long, long gone. The choice to address the adopted son as Mr.Jeon seemed to be not worth taking seriously as well.
‘I’m sorry there was a mistake.’ Jongin replied. ‘Your destination might be right there just a few houses from here.’ He added, giving the delivery boy a hint by pointing the houses around the corner of the street. There was an obvious disturbance in Jongin’s part but he chose not to show it and tried to be calm. Even hearing somebody mentioning the name of the dead business man have him a little creep. There must be a mistake.
Jongin tried not to think of it too much as he watched the delivery boy rode with his motorbike towards the next houses.
It was too early in the morning for animated encounter. It was already weird enough for him.
About half way through his thoughts, he moved outside of his door a little. He was a little too much inquisitive as he snoop to watch the delivery boy finally reaching the gate of Mr.Jeon’s house. The gate opened and there was someone Jongin could only glimpse a little from his door. The delivery boy went on for his transaction and Jongin suddenly felt appalled when he saw a man standing by the gate.
His skin seemed to be glowing in the sunlight. He couldn’t quite distinguish the face since the distance was a bit of interference. He wondered if he was Mr.Jeon’s adopted son, or simply just the village security but he did watched a few more in order to help solidify the concept in his thoughts. The last ten seconds of the transaction were spent with the delivery boy beginning to ride out as the man by the gate began to close it. Jongin tried not to breathe as the man’s head moved, unexpectedly, towards his direction.
Oddly, he felt like he wanted to use this chance in order to get as much information improved as possible.
A peculiar feeling came over Jongin as he continued the battle of gaze. It felt more like as if the man was watching him rather than just a plain impression. He didn’t know when to stop. He didn’t know if the man has the same plan too but when he heard a car coming to pass by, the man quickly sauntered off and closed the gate.



*


It’s been three days since that peculiar gaze happened and he felt a pang of steady curiosity as he continued to watch the man whenever the gate opened up. And this particular Saturday, Jongin felt like he was the only person in the world, in the way you can only can on grey days with the sky hanging low overhead. It was whether Jongin to have a soft spot for or things are just getting unusual.
It was also the third day seeing the man getting on days to kindle with pizza, pizza and pizza. He felt sick to think himself as one, though he has no stock variant to customize stock food to fit the needs, he can’t bring himself to dig in the same taste for consecutive days.
He had a perfect view of the house. He saw two lights on in top story and wondered which room was Mr.Jeon’s and which room was his adopted son. Seeing the house in lights even one room made everything strange. He knew no one was living there anymore. He was torn between asking the village owner and just ignored it. His curiosity was such that he thought about running over and taking a quick peek into both so he could know for sure and then chastised himself for needing to know such inconsequential details. Mr. Jeon was dead. It did not matter whose window was whose.

Since dinner came, he found himself in one of the burger shops in the main road and bought extra for the next hour since the rain was heavy and he could not afford to be outside if he wanted to eat midnight. The rain had stopped but still threatening to spill over later when he was finished buying his food. He didn’t back straight home after and chose to buy special ramen with rice instead. He was not, misleading when he bought them. He has other things in his mind.

Passing by Mr.Jeon’s house was just as usual as before, though it gave him a little bit of a creeps he didn’t know if his curiosity made it quite lighter now that he knew someone was living there or made it only worse.
Mr.Jeon’s house always looked so picturesque in the day time with the tall trees and strategically placed benches just in the right side yard—a wide yard, which they consider a park, but at night, the house and the open space seemed almost spooky to him. The light from the nearby streetlamps barely infiltrated the dark interior of the house.
Without regard to its interesting part or he tried to, passing by wouldn’t take all his time. He slows down his car and looked over the house and thought he saw a figure on the window in the ground floor part of the house. He ducked his head further to gauge whether he should be worried but he was complacent in his path. There was no one across the street. Not now.
In time with his heartbeat he drove past the house still slow. He kept his eyes on the side mirror and suddenly felt his nerve increases.
A man was stepping out the gate to leave. Jongin has punctuation that it’s the same man he saw three days earlier.
He watched the man get out the gate and walk until he turned into the main street. Once gone, Jongin was settling his car to park when rain poured again.
Something internal pushed him to turn over and drove back to the main street.
How strange, Jongin thought. Didn’t he notice the rain to consider bringing umbrella?
He saw him walking fast through the low section at the side of the road, dripping and soaked in the rain. He rushed to catch him up.
Luckily the man didn’t stop walking he seemed to be faster as soon as Jongin rolled down the window.
“Hey.” Jongin said loudly against the noise of the rain. “I guess it won’t stop soon enough.”
There was no answer. The man hadn’t made a look to regard him even a little.
“Hey. Mister.” Jongin stressed again.
“No, I’m fine.” Said the man but Jongin didn’t quite get into it, his voice was too low.
“It looks like it won’t stop, can I give you a ride.” Jongin said loudly.
“No, I’m fine with walking.” Again Jongin didn’t get that but it seemed to be helping since the man was able to talk back.
“Please get in, let me give you a ride.”
“No really, I’m totally fine.” The man said.
In this moment, Jongin felt like he was beginning to be a little pushy, but he knew that the man needed help. Without even thinking he got out of the car and walked straight to him.
“Mister, the rain won’t stop soon enough. Let me give you a ride.’ Jongin said. The man looked down at his words but it begun to work with him because he seemed to be figuring out his choices.
Jongin ran inside his car after the man got in.
There was a strange feeling when Jongin sat back to the driver’s seat. He didn’t know if it’s because of the wet of his clothes or this.
The man was there, of course, and he was sitting right next to him.
Keeping it as simple as he could, Jongin asked, “Where are you going?”
The man was looking down on his knees and looked like trying to build his words. Jongin wanted to put up so many questions including his name but he didn’t want to make his curiosity seem too noticeable since it was his first time talking to him. Even though he was trying to seem normal, what about within the week could be consider normal? The thrilling encounter at the ramen restaurant, the delivery pizza and this.
“Home.” Came a voice from beside him. It wasn’t even a whisper.
Jongin tried to mutter a word but there was none. He glanced to him, feeling a little unsure of his answer.
“I thought you’re going somewhere else.” Jongin finally said.
The man was still looking down. He seemed to be careful to answer every question. He was too different. Particularly about his face and feature as Jongin began to study him.
His skin was very fair, almost pale. The state of being near to him was different from seeing him in an amount of distance. He looked even younger and his face was very, beautiful. He was having a pleasing youthful appearance and also handsome but Jongin couldn’t quite make out what’s making him feel like there’s so much more than that. He could not figure it out.
“I-,” said the man, “going back home.”
It was just a short route.
And the tension inside Jongin was growing. From he didn’t know why. And he tried to start catching the man’s thoughts.
“How was it to live in there?” Jongin started.
Jongin felt the man’s head moved slightly toward his direction.
“I’m sorry—.” Jongin said.
“—It was as the same as before.” said the man, his voice breaking into the pause.
Jongin nodded, keeping it simple. “I see. How do you like the pizza so far?”
It gave the man a pause and in Jongin’s surprise, he started chuckling. Jongin quickly glanced back at him. His smile was so infectious, that Jongin could not help but grin back.
It was a bit of a shock seeing him expressing some improvement other than a gloomy face. But still shy and wary had his lips curving a tiny hint of smile. “Fine.”
“I’m Jongin, by the way.” Jongin said eager to know his name. The wait was as thrilling as seeing him in distance.
“Kyungsoo.” The man said.
Jongin felt the smile bubbling forth and tried to hide it. “Actually, I bought something for dinner. I won’t mind sharing it with you.”
“Oh, no thanks.” Kyungsoo said. Jongin felt irrelevant frustration now that Kyungsoo’s smile had gone.
“I really don’t mind.” Jongin said.
Slowly, the air had been silence again. Jongin was having a hard time imagining Kyungsoo’s answer. His calm and reserved feature ran over him again. He’s back to quiet and strange again. If only smile could be the variant to conversations.
“I haven’t had a good meal. Apparently, all I ate were those vegetables and noodles in a bowl in every restau kitchens. So, I thought it would be nice of me to invite you over for dinner. At least someone to be with during dinner” Jongin explained in a soft voice.
Another silence.
“I’m sorry. But—“
“—you’re parent’s dead.” Jongin suddenly spilled.
Kyungsoo didn’t answer.
“I’m sorry. I just thought that we could be nice to each other since we’re both alone.” Jongin apologized.
“I’m sorry I need to get out.” Kyungsoo replied and Jongin realized that they were almost driving past Mr.Jeon’s house. He pulled to stop.
Kyungsoo now looked a little more uncomfortable as he opened the door.
Jongin was dead staring at the gate through which Kyungsoo had left. He could not tell which emotion was the most dominant in him right now: frustration or disappointment. His brows furrowed, but there a definite sense of loss in the abrupt end to their conversation. He would have happily continued their verbal sparring about food. Jongin enjoyed the tiny interest Kyungsoo presented. But he could easily see Kyungsoo was frustrated with him. He wasn’t even sure if Kyungsoo thought kindly of him. But if truth be told, he enjoyed watching the brightness in Kyungsoo’s eyes as he fought for his privacy.

Jongin reluctantly cleared his thoughts as he drove straight to his house and let himself emerged inside.
He ate and washed and went in to his bedrooms. He couldn’t help looking over at the top story of the house. The thought of Kyungsoo being just a few hundred feet away nagged at him. He did not like that Kyungsoo was constantly sneaking into his thoughts. Spending all this extra time with him was becoming a distraction.


*

As soon as the clock hits seven, Mrs. Park was already swirling all round the tables. The shop was clogged with people and her son was early awake to help her around. Chanyeol takes over for the cleaning and serving customers so that she can focus to make ramen.
The sun was bright and the main street was alive with people going on to each of their destinations. There was someone entering the door, she even heard Chanyeol greeting him along the way.
There was an immediate grin pasted on her face. “Who did your hair?” A blind guy who hates you?” she asked in a snarling voice. She shook her head down a little to see what Jongin would do. He did absolutely nothing. The calm look on his face told her he was not surprised by the rude comment. In fact, he looked like he was used to it. He did not look anywhere but toward the front of the counter where he appeared to be intently reading the menu on the board.
Mrs.Park’s grin however didn’t go but there was an obvious curl in her brows that was evident of wonder. Aside from the new look in Jongin’s hair style that seemed to be so short ever than he did before, he was oddly weird today. It was easy for Mrs.Park to see the difference since Jongin was the most person she knew closely to her heart.
Mrs.Park asked what he wanted to eat instead.
“I want regular noodles.” Jongin said.
She nodded and made to prepare for his order. As she went, her eyes were automatically drawn to his every movement, waiting for Jongin to say something. He didn’t even moving. His head was dropped down and his face seemed to be shaded. She placed the bowl of ramen atop the tray in front of him so he could take it.
Jongin stock his hand inside one of his jacket’s pockets and pull out his hand after. His voice was uncertain. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t have—“
“It’s alright. Jongin, it’s alright.” Mrs.Park stressed out. “You look tired, you must be hungry.”
“I’m sorry.” Jongin repeated as he took hold of the tray. He was turning around to walk to one of the tables when a hand grabbed his shoulder. His head so abruptly turned to one side.
“Hey, Jongin, let me do this.” Chanyeol said, already taking the tray away from his hands. It wasn’t what Mrs.Park had expected. Jongin intently gripped the tray and held himself still, staring down on the floor.
Chanyeol’s grinning face stared blankly at him as they stood stiffly in a tug of something. “Hey, common you’re tired, you look like passing out with your tiny bones, let me do this.” Chanyeol said amusingly ridiculous.
“Take off your hand.” Jongin said in a strained whisper.
Chanyeol frown was now evident as he let go of the tray. Walking past him, Chanyeol looked him over with ballistic fury. “Hey man, what the fuck?”
Mrs.Park was already stepping out of her station to take hold of Chanyeol’s arm. “Leave him. He’s tired.”
Jongin sat in one of the tables to the wall and start eating.
Chanyeol and Mrs.Park soon ignore Jongin’s hinky.


*

The rain was heavy and the sky was very dark. It had been a week since he last saw Kyungsoo.
Jongin found Kyungsoo to be a very intriguing neighbour, or maybe he was. It didn’t matter to him if he was the village owner’s security or staff, looking over for the house maintenance. It was not the first time to see men at work in each of the empty houses and new apartments in the village to be surprise. The owner even had one staff for him once in a year to check his house, even after his parents died. They continued the service and build longer relationship with the owner.
But in all honesty to himself, he could not quite determine what was most interesting about Kyungsoo. Perhaps it was his obvious condition, completely clean, fresh, neat. Left in its natural state. Very delicate.
Perhaps it was his soft beauty.
Whatever it was, he was actually glad he was given chance of talking with him even sitting with him in a close distance.
Knowing Kyungsoo was a refreshing change to all the businessmen and blue collar workers he usually met in the village. Normally he would find excuse to cut off any potential conversations with them, but here, he was allowing himself comfortably watching Kyunsgoo in every way possible.
And the close distance between his house and Mr.Jeon’s was too tempting. He wondered if he could have the nerve to go there and asked Kyugsoo for dinner.
As he walked past the living room to his office, he noticed a figure across the road. Quickly he moved to check it and peeked onto the window.
In his surprise, the figure was Kyungsoo, walking across the road towards his house, thankfully, with umbrella.
Jongin’s chest began to behave strangely. He backed off and made for the door. He cleared his throat and fixed his sweater. Really, he was beginning to get nervous and excited.
When the bell rang, he didn’t open the door yet. Letting his self to be reasonably seems normal, he waited for another bell. He didn’t want him to think that he was waiting for him to come. There was another bell.
He closed his eyes, open them and open the door.
“Hi.” Kyungsoo said, smiling.
Come in. He didn’t say it. “Oh, hi. Kyungsoo, may I help you?” Jongin said, trying to sound normal.
He smiled again. “I’m sorry. Did I disturb you?” Kyungsoo asked, his voice low and soft.
Jongin shook his head and make the door wide open. “No.” He looked around and frown. “The weather is bad. Come in.”
Kyungsoo smiled again “May I come in?”
“Yes of course.” Jongin said in a rich voice. His chest was pounding real hard.
Jongin took hold of the umbrella and placed it on the stand. He let Kyungsoo walked past inside as he closed the door, feeling a great delight wellness.


The moment Kyungsoo made it inside, Jongin began cleaning up the couch and the coffee table. There was so much to do and so little time to get it done. He never cared much about the house’s status of cleanliness, since it was already clean. He usually had a pile of books, papers, sketch pads, pencils in the living room and it would be left untouched for as long as he could stand it. He had priorities in his life that the house usually came in last. Tonight, however, Jongin wanted it to look nice. He didn’t want other people to see his mess, not Kyungsoo especially.
Kyungsoo smiled as soon as Jongin turned around. He looked over at him with a bit of shyness in his face. “Thank you so much for inviting me for dinner.”
Jongin was surprised for this new inclination. He never pictured Kyungsoo to be very nice like this.
Instead of answering that, Jongin can’t help but to gave out a soft laughter.
They both laughed.
“I’m so sick of pizza. I might choke if I’m required to eat another slice. You have literally saved my life.”
Jongin laughed and said. “Death by pizza? There could be worse ways to go.”
“Very true, but at the moment, I can’t think of one.” Kyungsoo answered with a soft laughter.
Kyungsoo quietly ambled in and took a seat. He looked comfortable as he sat in the couch.
“I’ll be right back.” Jongin said before he sauntered off the living room.

Jongin walked into the arch to the kitchen and thankful that he was exactly done finish cooking a while ago. The food could take enough time to re-cook them. He was glad he did not have to engage in small talk with Kyungsoo. Jongin hated having to think stupid, nonsensical things to say to people he barely knew and he didn’t want to look stupid in Kyungsoo’s eyes now that they were beginning to have a better growth of acquaintance. He was grateful he had some employment to keep him occupied in the kitchen for a while.
When the dinner was ready, they both glided around the kitchen table. Kyungsoo comfortably sat in the chair across from him and said. “This smells delicious. I’ve never had food home made for a long time.”
“It’s one of my favourite cook.” Explained Jongin.
Kyungsoo seemed interested and asked. “Why?”
“It was an easy cook.” Jongin answered-that aimed a hard and a quite louder laughter from Kyungsoo.
“My Mom knew all the best recipes to cook since she was a culinary art teacher. Sadly, I’m not good at it. But I’d be happy to recommend a few recipes for you so you don’t have to be stuck with pizza ever again.” Jongin said in a rich voice.
Kyungsoo looked excited and said. “Thank you. I am so incompetent in the kitchen. I couldn’t even tell you the difference between a pan and a pot so I’m always ordering out, too.”
They carried on most of the conversation about Mr.Jeon’s house during dinner and that obviously made Jongin think that Kyungsoo was Mr.Jeon’s adopted son, who came back to clean up the house. It was not the matter that he wanted to dissect further. Kyungsoo however, had been the talk around the village even before. But it seemed that Kyungsoo was slowly trying to cope up with the unsettled rumour and seemed to be used to it.
After dinner, they moved back into the living room to continue the conversation.
Kyungsoo obviously looking comfortable walking around the house and talking with Jongin, even staring at him in some instance.
That made Jongin a little bit of flattered.
When Kyungsoo talks something about the book in his hand he got from the floor, Jongin moved and sat beside him. Their shoulders unexpectedly brushed lightly. The tiny friction made Jongin’s skin warm.
The air suddenly became silent. Only the sound of heaving thunder and rain could be heard. They were both now reading the book in Kyungsoo’s hands when suddenly Kyungsoo said “The water drum was under maintenance. Can I use your bathroom?” Kyungsoo whispered, his voice a little low.
Jongin shifted and looked straight onto the floor. His heart began to pound harshly. He nodded without thinking. “Of course. Just flush the bowl after,” he joked, trying to make his voice normal.
“No.” Kyungsoo whispered. He closed the book and turned to face Jongin. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Jongin was stunned, and nodded. He stood and led Kyungsoo to the bathroom in the kitchen. They stopped just as he walked past the arch. So much for good intentions, he said, “If you want, there was a heater installed… upstairs.”
“Where?” Kyungsoo asked in a low voice.
Despite instincts, which kept telling him to stay calm, he answered, “In my room.”


Jongin was standing by the open window splashing rain drops to calm his self, thinking of Kyungsoo who was now inside the bathroom inside his bedroom. Kyungsoo—he was a guy he’d known for a long time—technically for a week and he tried to remember him in the days when he was just a boy—found nothing. Kyungsoo was a result of hearsay evidence. He could grasp anything else from his past except him. He tried to recall if he once bump into him in the playground, in the school, or in the park beside Mr.Jeon’s house. None of them ever led him to a total imagination.
He heard a sound, and turned.
“Uhm… Towel?” Kyungsoo was peeking through the slit open of the bathroom door. His hair dark and dripping water, his face was glistening with it, and a flush of red splattering under a pale skin.
“Of course.” Jongin said it before he can control it, walking fast to the drawer to get a towel. When he turned around towards the bathroom, the door was still slightly open, but Kyungsoo was gone far inside again.
This gave him a pause, he was too cautious to stay properly clearheaded that he walked warily to stand before the slightly open door.
“Kyungsoo?” he called out, and gulped. A small sound can be heard from inside, a flash of water. Typical him, arguing with his thought which was offering to do what he had been wanting all evening, he stepped closer, “Kyungsoo? Take your towel.”
He heard a small chuckle and felt a little funny. Is he really this playful? Choosing to be attentive, he took hold of the knob. He opened the door and shook his head, trying to lower his eyes as he stepped in.
He was surprised to see that the room was empty. He moved forward to the tub, it was emitting warm upward.
The sound of slam close and he turned around to find Kyungsoo leaning against the door, naked.
Jongin was stunned that he couldn’t look anywhere else but him. The slack of his grip around the towel. The complications of straining everywhere. Kyungsoo approached.
Kyungsoo reached out and placed his palm on Jongin’s chest. Jongin looked strained. This proximity to Kyungsoo was never easy. Kyungsoo’s skin was glistening and wet, white like a pearl. And Jongin can’t help from watching him. He had a shock brown hair that was currently falling into his eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose. Kyungsoo was no way to be ugly.
“The water is good.” Kyungsoo whispered. It was hard to think beyond the curve of his shoulders, the loose form of his lips, the inclined chin to discover the delicate line of his throat.
Deliberately, he moved his hand to present the towel. “Here.”
Kyungsoo didn’t give any regards with the towel, completely oblivious to his offer, but reached out his other hand to hook around Jongin’s neck. The warm of it gave a shock into his skin. It was not easy to think. There’s a lot of misfire in the brain during physical interaction. And he took a deep breath and told himself he was being silly to think that Kyungsoo was thinking any the same.
For a moment he stood still, uncertain. The bait lay before him. Only he had to do was lower his head and their mouth touch.
Kyungsoo leaned closer still, looming on him. His mouth seemed to be red. His lips were like a bruised fruit, ready to spill juice. And Jongin couldn’t make himself to avoid it.
And then it was happening.
Heat shroud all over his body, requiring him to take more. He didn’t know this intense desire of him till he was able to have Kyungsoo. He tongued inside. He kissed him and touched him everywhere. His grip tightening on the swell of Kyungsoo’s hip. And Kyungsoo gave out an outcry of weakness.
Jongin grabbed Kyungsoo’s body and took him to his bed whole and wet. He was naked before he even placed himself above him. It was like a brusque strike of desire. Hard to control. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. Running away seemed impossible. It was clearly what he wanted, and there was no way he couldn’t do it.
He was already inside and moving, thrusting and feeling the heat of him. His cock was transpierced into a tight heat within a flesh. It was warm and swamp. There was a heated kiss even when he flipped Kyungsoo so that he was on his elbows and knees, entered again. Through the noise of rain and thunder it was impossible not to hear Kyungsoo’s cry in the pleasant friction of this.
Jongin’s control of release was growing smaller and smaller. His hips became more hurried with his helpless groans. He opened his eyes and suddenly felt confused as he noticed something’s changes in Kyungsoo’s skin—a dark spots that he couldn’t name.
“Kyungsoo.” Said Jongin. His thrust slowed and he reached to touch Kyungsoo on the back. There was a sudden force and Kyungsoo staggered back as he detached himself from Jongin, only to push him down the bed and straddle him and began to pump.
Jongin felt the rush blood gathering on his groin as Kyungsoo hurried to reach the peak. He heard him cried out, felt the first wet of his lust spilling over his stomach.
They slept.




*


Whistling loudly, Chanyeol was walking in the lakeside hamlet. The air was wild and suddenly he felt strangely cold. Suddenly, while he was still walking along Main Street, he thought he heard a growling behind him. He gasped. He was positive his heart just stopped beating. His hope of avoiding any stupid things was dashed. He didn’t want to sprint all the way home. He didn’t want to show fear. Lately, when he was outside home, the walk home was a bit different because of the weather and some strange things. He looked behind him and felt like he was plummeting from the very top of a roller coaster. Nothing.
“I’m not crazy,” he said to himself. “I am NOT crazy.” He walked faster. “Don’t be afraid.” He ordered himself. For what it was worth.
He was almost relieved to have the mist come. It wasn’t exactly warm and comforting, but somehow he felt like it shielded him from something.
Only a few more meters.
He heard a snarl.
Despite his fear, he started to run.
“Hi, Chanyeol.”
He staggered to a stop and gasped. He turned around.
His screams cannot be heard by any amount of distance.
The figure stood after, his mouth red like an open stomach of an animal. Inside it his teeth shone sharp and white bones, his tongue long and thick as he licked the very last drop of blood in his cheeks.
He pierced through the trees and gone into the night.



*


Mrs. Park was sitting in the front seat inside the chapel. She can barely talk from the sudden death of her son, but she was obviously fighting it. The chapel was clogged with villagers, every now and then they talk silently about the brutality of Chanyeol’s death. There is no way to digest such lavish, unmerciful kill to cause the body into a total wreck. It was not humane.
Jongin walked past the group of people and was welcomed by Mrs.Park who was already standing and waiting for him, they hugged. He was taken a little unawares when she looked over at him in such a surprise expression.
“Holy Mother of God.” She murmured. They sat.
Jongin looked around and bend on his knees. “Mrs.Park. I am sorry for what happen to him. My condolences. But it was very unacceptable, who did this to him?”
In his surprise Mrs.Park reached out to touch his hair. “What—“
She frowned and started talking to herself, “What happen to your hair?” she moved her hand and began to brushing her fingers just under his front dark locks. “You were shaved in here just a few days ago.”
Jongin frown and took hold of her hand and held them in his hands. “What are you talking about Mrs.Park.”
“No, Jongin. Your hair was a lighter brown the day you came in the shop.” She explained further, now snipping into her crumpled napkin.
“You were totally missing him so much. Common, hug me.” Jongin murmured with a very soft expression, he grabbed her fluffy body and embraced her tightly. Right there, she began to burst into a loud cry.



*



He was tired when the night came. It was already past midnight when he told Mrs.Park he was leaving. The chapel was still crowded with people and he couldn’t still imagine the impossible death of her son.
He got out of his car and settled to get inside when someone called out his name.
“Jongin.”
Kyungsoo was standing just before him.
He was stunned that he was taken one stepped back from his sudden appearance.
“Hi.” He said after he caught up himself.
“How are you?” Kyungsoo asked, grinning.
He took a deep breath. Kyungsoo was happy, because he was smiling but he couldn’t tell just by looking at him, he was… hard to read. “I-I’m j-just fine.”
“Really?” he asked, smiling. “as fine as you don’t need me?”
“I don’t really know what that means,” Jongin said through laughter. “wanna have a dinner with me?” he added.
Later that night, they washed. Stumbled into another small but intimate bond of theirs.
Woke up past the dawn, Jongin shifted in his bed and found his bed empty. He heard a small sound and lay on his side. The bathroom was lit up and the door was slightly open.
He laid his head back down, thinking that Kyungsoo might waken up to pee.
He heard a small snarl, like a very low growling.
He sat up. The sound faded.



*



Author’s Note: Hi I hope you support this fic. This is parted in 2 chapters and soon be updated. This is just a sudden thought of suspense or horror? story that I stumbled into. This was very movie type. Very predictable but I was enjoying it. This was… very short and quick, I guess. Hope you enjoy it.