Chapter Text
“I’ve been rejected,” Jeno sighs, plopping into a cushioned booth chair with an uncomfortable, leathery squeak. His backpack falls to the multi colored carpeted floor once he shrugs it off, pressing his elbows into the tabletop. Their manager Dongyoung doesn’t even greet Jeno when he sees him.
“Excuse me, do I know you?” Donghyuck asks, furrowing his eyebrows and placing his chin between his pointer and thumb. Honestly, what the hell does Jeno want from him
“Shut up, Donghyuck,” Jeno says into his hands. They cover the expanse of his face, and his words come out in a weird, isolated echo against his palms. Donghyuck may feel a little bad.
Donghyuck sets the black tub of dirty dishes on a newly cleaned table, creating a disruptive glass-against-glass knocking loud enough to startle a nervous customer sitting at a table not far from them. Donghyuck doesn’t even look apologetic. “Alright, I’ll bite,” Donghyuck tells him. “What’s up?” he asks, throwing himself into the opposite seat and resting an arm awkwardly on the booth’s back, legs splayed crudely open. He’s not all that close to Jeno, but they’ve known each other since middle school, have a few classes together currently, have same group of friends, work together.
“Gee, how kind of you,” Jeno replies sarcastically, one hand now supporting his chin.
“‘Gee,’” Donghyuck mimics, “guess you don’t want me to lend a friendly ear then. Damn.” He pretends to get up before Jeno speaks up again.
“Alright, alright,” Jeno says in defeat. “I kissed Jaemin.” It comes out a tone above a whisper, and Donghyuck, with wide eyes, decides not to mention that Mark left with Jaemin not even an hour before. “He kissed back, but he told me it didn’t feel right and said he wanted to go.”
“Oh,” is all Donghyuck says.
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“I don’t want to rub salt in the wound, dude,” Donghyuck begins, “but have you seen how attached Mark and Jaemin are in your entire life?” Donghyuck sits up and copies Jeno’s position: one elbow and hand propping up his chin with the other arm in his lap. Donghyuck can even admit to himself that he tried stomping out blossoming (more like weed sprouting) feelings for Mark before it got too serious. He’s done a good job. He’s proud of himself.
Jeno shouts defensively, “I thought he just liked Mark as a friend!” He gets quiet again, and Donghyuck feels bad one more time.
“Are you heartbroken?” Donghyuck asks. It’s not his business, and he’s not here to fix Jeno, but he understands. He unfortunately understands.
Jeno sits there for a second, contemplating.
“No,” he admits. “It would’ve been nice for it be returned, I guess.” Yeah, no shit.
“Look,” Donghyuck speaks up, “think of it this way.” And Jeno looks up and right into Donghyuck’s eyes. Donghyuck’s eyes dart to the side as quick as they had met Jeno’s. It’s awkward. “You get to keep both Mark and Jaemin as friends,” Donghyuck says to the table next to them. “They’ll always be your friends. Sometimes that’s better than losing someone in the process.” Because Donghyuck knows he would’ve lost Jaemin, someone he could actually consider a close friend for life (despite the teasing), if he had liked Mark, tried for Mark. Maybe even would’ve lost Mark eventually, even if it had been returned. There are sacrifices to make. Donghyuck would rather be Mark’s best friend than nothing.
“It still sucks,” Jeno says stubbornly.
Yeah, no shit. “No shit.” Donghyuck turns to Jeno. “You work tomorrow?”
“No, why?”
“Let’s do something.” God, Donghyuck can’t believe he even fucking said it.
Jeno snorts. “You and me? Hanging out together?”
“I know my good looks and amazing personality can be too much to be around, but do you want to fucking sulk or have a good time?”
Jeno gives in. “Alright. Where do you wanna meet?”
They meet at their work, Panera and all it’s middle class customer aimed glory, the next day, 12 p.m. It’s cold enough for jackets and maybe gloves, but Donghyuck’s fingers are gloveless and his scarf is left stuffed in the trunk of his Corolla that’s older than he is.
Jeno is waiting at the front under an umbrella table, not even sitting in a chair, hands shoved in his pockets. His head is covered in a woolly beanie, pretty tuft of fringe out, and his oversized jacket looks good on him. Donghyuck hates how readily he realizes how handsome Jeno is.
“Hey,” Donghyuck greets to him.
“Hey.”
It’s quiet. And awkward. They aren’t friends, and they don’t hang out alone. Donghyuck feels bad for Jeno, and he’s not sure why. Maybe because he understands, sort of. Some solidarity of nearly broken hearts by two people who ended up together fueling his actions. Maybe Donghyuck wants somebody to relate to someone for once. He doesn’t know. Whatever.
“So…?” Jeno speaks up, eyebrows curiously raised and knitted at Donghyuck.
“Yeah?”
“What are we doing?”
“What do you want to do?”
“You seriously dragged me out here without any idea what we’re doing?”
“Calm down. This isn’t a date, bro. Why would I have to know what we were doing beforehand?” But Donghyuck still should have planned this better.
Jeno looks annoyed. “Okay, ‘bro,’” Jeno mocks, “we can’t just stand around here in the cold. Where we work of all freakin’ places. And I’m not spending my check eating this overpriced food.”
“Alright, alright,” Donghyuck says, raising his hands defensively. “Your car or mine?”
“I, uh,” Jeno says quietly, right hand moving up to scratch at his face sheepishly. “My mom drove me here.”
“Man, you’re so cute, dude,” Donghyuck laughs, and he isn’t even joking.
“Sh-shut up. I just don’t have a car yet.”
“I’m not making fun, I swear.” Donghyuck shoves his hands into the depths of his pockets and stretches the fabric forward. “My car is junky, but it drives. Usually.” Jeno’s eyes widen in panic. “Kidding.” He won’t tell him, at least immediately, that he’s only been driving for a few months, and that maybe he is a bad driver. Not immediately. He’ll probably (definitely) even find out himself.
Donghyuck takes the lead, Jeno following behind shortly, to his little champagne—or whatever—colored Corolla.
“How has this thing not died on you yet?” Jeno asks him as he makes his long trip down to the passenger’s seat, slamming the car door closed.
“I take care of it, because if I didn’t have a car I would be so fucked. And that’s not how I want to lose my virginity.” Donghyuck explains as he turns the key in the ignition, the fan belt making a quick, upset squeak under the hood because of the cold weather.
Jeno snorts. “You’re…”
“Funny? I know.” Donghyuck can’t stop cutting up with Jeno, and he’s not sure if it’s on manic drive to not make this awkward, or if he genuinely feels comfortable around the guy. It could be both. Maybe. He feels like they’re so different from each other—there’s nothing similar about them, there really isn’t. And trying to find a legitimate similarity would be forcing it. Jeno is so normal and collected and cool, and Donghyuck is wild and foul mouthed and says whatever he wants to.
“Unbelievable.”
The more Donghyuck thinks about it, the more he wonders how on Earth they could actually be friends. A lot of times it’s them picking fights with each other at the lunch table or during homeroom and fighting over meaningless tasks they each need to perform at work. Mark once said if this was anime, they would constantly have that comical, tense bolt of electricity connecting their eyes. Mark is lame, and no one ever asked him anyway.
Donghyuck puts his car in reverse.
Jeno isn’t sure where they’re going. He thinks Donghyuck isn’t sure either. The younger boy’s eyes are squinted, brows pushed together, probably thinking hard about where they should go, biting the inside of his cheek. His side profile is really soft, especially under that equally soft head of hair; and Jeno thinks that it’s almost unbelievable this is the same loud person who makes dick jokes at lunch and steals Hansol’s nametag out of the back at work when he forgets his own. He’s so concentrated (or maybe lost) that he doesn’t notice Jeno staring. Jeno doesn’t notice Jeno staring—not until Donghyuck slams on brakes at a red light and Jeno lurches forward, forcing him to wrench his eyes from Donghyuck and to front to look out the windshield. Donghyuck throws his arm in front of Jeno to “save him” the way a loved one does in the same situation in order to keep you from flying out of your seat (as if the seatbelt didn’t do that, if not better than an arm would).
“God, dude,” Jeno says, leaning himself back against the seat.
Donghyuck retracts his arm, and smiles sheepishly. “I suck at driving.” No kidding.
“I can see that,” Jeno replies. He rests his elbow on the car door armrest, or whatever it is, and presses his cheek into his fist. “Where are we going?” Donghyuck can’t be just randomly driving around this side of town. They’re seventeen for god’s sake; Donghyuck probably doesn’t know how he’d get back home if he got lost. Jeno laughs inwardly at that.
“I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t know where we could go, so I kind of auto piloted to the direction of my house,” Donghyuck replies, glancing a split second out the corners of his eyes to Jeno. “I can take us anywhere, dude. I don’t care,” he adds.
And Jeno suddenly remembers that they’re hanging out. Like it actually hits him that they’re attempting to spend time together. For some reason. Jaemin not returning Jeno’s feelings isn’t even that big of deal now that he’s slept on it—it sucks, it does. Okay, it sucks a lot, and he’d rather avoid everyone on Earth today.. But cancelling on Donghyuck didn’t feel right. Why shouldn’t they learn to tolerate each other? Jeno can stand another person in his life. But Jeno is still lost—doesn’t get why Donghyuck asked, or even cared to ask.
“Why did you ask me to hang out with you?” Jeno asks, ignoring what Donghyuck said. Jeno expects Donghyuck to get offended, retaliate or something at the question. Get defensive. But he doesn’t.
“I thought you’d like hanging out with someone who wasn’t there or involved,” Donghyuck says, eyes forward. The light changes, and Donghyuck eases the car up. That isn’t what Jeno expected, but he’s not really sure what he was expecting. ‘Because I feel fucking sorry for your pathetic, ass’ or something similar. Which, hey, might be the case still (even if Donghyuck doesn’t say it out loud).
Donghyuck’s change is uncomfortable for Jeno, and he doesn’t comment on what’s said and only replies with “You’re acting different” and a forced laugh.
“I just understand, I guess.”
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” His voice comes out hard and a little angry. But he feels bad for it immediately. Jeno realizes he actually doesn’t know who Donghyuck is talking about. He never said exactly who, and they aren’t exactly friends for it to have ever come up in a moment of intimacy that friends sometimes share. Like how he’s revealed to Renjun his conflicting feelings about romance in text messages late at night, or talking in his neighbor (and friend) Jisung’s kitchen on Saturday evenings while Jisung’s parents are out doing whatever adults do—grocery shop, or something.
“Someone fucking has to,” Donghyuck bites back, turning to him with a forced smile. Ah, there it is. And ah, he’s maybe right. Maybe he needs someone to feel sorry for him besides himself. Maybe it’s a little comforting. It’s okay to be selfish. He’s right. No one else is here to feel sorry for him but himself (and now Donghyuck).
Jeno rolls his eyes in response anyway.
Suddenly a chiming ringing muffled by the fabric of Donghyuck’s sweatshirt obnoxiously mixes with the car radio. “Oh, shit, that’s my mom,” Donghyuck states, both hands on the wheel anxiously.
Jeno doesn’t expect what Donghyuck says after that, so all he does is say “Okay?” Why is that information something Jeno needs to know.
“Can you get it for me? Please, dude. I know that’s weird,” he says, “but I’ve only had my license for three months, and I’m not ready to take both hands of the wheel in forty five mile an hour traffic.”
Jeno blanks. “What?” The phone continues ringing. “Like, answer it?”
“Yes, answer it!” Donghyuck yells, exasperated.
“Uh,” Jeno lets out as he reaches for Donghyuck’s pocket. The phone rings one more time but cuts out.
“Oh well,” Donghyuck says. “Maybe she’ll call back when I’m not driv—.” The phone starts ringing again, the annoying electronic jingle almost grating at this point. “Shit, it must be important,” he mutters, and its anxious.
Without Donghyuck asking again, Jeno reaches again, albeit hesitantly, for the phone in Donghyuck’s front pocket. It’s at the furthest left side of the pocket and Jeno has to uncomfortably dig his hand towards it, and shyly feels at Donghyuck’s stomach for it. This is... Fucking awkward—excuse Jeno’s French. Before almost accidentally pushing the phone out of Donghyuck’s pocket into the abyss between the seat and car door, he grabs at it pathetically with weird fingers and pulls his arm out.
Jeno swipes open the touch screen on Donghyuck’s smart phone, “Mom” in white letters at the top of the LCD screen. Putting the phone to his ear, he does answer it, but in Korean. And Donghyuck snorts, Jeno seeing his eyebrows knit and lips puckered into a taunting face.
“Did you just answer in Korean?” Jeno hears Donghyuck ask quietly and amused. Does Donghyuck not use Korean at home?
“Hello?” a woman’s voice comes from the speaker. “Donghyuck?”
“This is his,” Jeno pauses and looks at Donghyuck briefly, but Donghyuck is still focused on driving wherever, “coworker, Jeno. He’s driving and told me to answer for him,” Jeno tells her, but in English this time, seeing as that’s what she replied in.
Donghyuck butts in, “Just put it on speaker.” Oh, right. Yeah. So Jeno does.
“Mom,” Donghyuck says to let her know she’s been put on speaker.
“Donghyuck,” her voice blares out the small phone speaker, staticy like an old radio almost. “My car isn’t starting, and Grandma needs me to come over.” She says please in forced cute Korean, and Donghyuck closes his eyes for a split second. “I need to borrow yours until Dad gets home from work.”
“Yeah, of course,” Donghyuck replies casually. “I’m almost there.” And he takes the next yield onto a side street.
“Thank you. Thank you,” she cries. “Best son,” she says with a laugh.
“Only son,” Donghyuck retorts playfully. Only child? That explains a lot about Donghyuck, like, as a person, Jeno thinks. The call ends, and they come into an area (not necessarily a formal neighborhood) with mix matched houses and yards of all kinds and personalities.
“Sorry it ended up like this,” Donghyuck says to Jeno a little after. “You don’t care you have to come over right? I’m sure she’d take you home on the way to my grandma’s.” Jeno thinks that’s fine, even if he feels like this whole thing has kind of been a waste of time at this point. He opens his mouth to answer as he digs for his house key in his own jacket and closes his eyes when he realizes it’s not there.
“I left my house key in my mom’s car,” Jeno says more to his lap than to Donghyuck. Of course he did. “I’m sorry, dude,” Jeno sighs. His mom won’t be home for another four hours. Four hours. Or until Donghyuck’s mom gets home. Which is hopefully first.
“I asked you to hang out. Don’t be sorry. You just have to suck it up, I guess. We can find shit to do. Dick around at the convenience store or whatever until your mom can pick you up.”
“How long will your mom take?”
“Uh.” Donghyuck makes a face as if he’s about to give an extremely unfortunate answer. He does. “When grandma ‘needs mom to come over,’ she means like… stay the night.” Donghyuck says, and his face says ‘sorry about the shitty inconvenience, but honestly it’s not my problem.’
Four entire hours with Donghyuck. Jeno hopes they make it out alive, or like, at least himself.