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Hot. The weather is so hot Jisung can feel water molecules leaving his body with each passing second. His shirt clings to his back with the adhesive power of sweat and his throat feels parched despite having abolished a glassful of water barely a minute ago. Whoever thought of scheduling a blackout on a summer day must love watching people suffer. That someone probably kicks puppies for fun.
“I can see you wilting.”
A pair of feet appears in front of his eyes. Jisung cranes his neck up to see Chenle looming over, holding a mini-fan to his face.
“Gimme dat,” he drawls, drool muddling his speech.
“No can do.” He squats down to Jisung’s level and sneers, “That’s gross, wipe your face. Let’s go swimming.”
“It’s scorching.”
“That's why.”
“There’s gonna be a ton of people at the pool. We’ll be jostled along all the bodies, soaking in their sweat and pee and whatever chemical they put in the water.”
Jisung doesn’t even need to look up to know Chenle is glaring at him. “You’re welcome.”
“Fine,” Chenle huffs, the gush of air hitting Jisung’s cheek. “Wilt all you want, you beansprout, I’m going someplace cooler.”
“Wait!” He swings his arm and seizes an ankle. “If you’re leaving anyway, can you give me the fan?”
Chenle’s little smirk falls off as Jisung finishes his proposition.
Mark has just finished showering when he stumbles upon the tangle of bodies in the living room. Hovering around the sidelines are Renjun, Jaemin and Jeno, engrossed in watching the spectacle.
“Shouldn’t we stop them?” He asks the other three, mildly concerned.
“Nah,” Renjun answers the same time Jeno shakes his head. “This is first class entertainment,” Jaemin says.
“Must be nice, being so young and full of energy. I’m jealous.”
Mark wants to tell Renjun he’s really not that much older, and that scuffling like a pair of toddlers is not something to be envious of, but then the boy sighs so wistfully he refrains from talking altogether. More importantly, all the rolling around is starting to threaten the safety of their furniture. He could’ve sworn they were a hair’s breadth away from toppling the glass table.
“Alright kids, that’s enough.”
Jisung makes the mistake of stopping to look at Mark, allowing his opponent to slither out of his weakened grip. Chenle mercilessly proceeds to sit on his back, cheering and pumping his fists as if he’d just won a grappling tournament. Tightly held in his hand is the mini-fan faux trophy. He blows kisses to the clapping audience and receives a high-five from Jaemin, who pulls him to his feet and raises his hand up in a victory lap.
Mark ignores his incoming headache in favour of helping Jisung. “You okay?”
“Not really,” Jisung groans, flopping onto his back.
Jeno walks over and hands him a bottle of pocari sweat. “It was a close match.”
The bottle is very cold. Jisung is so happy he could cry. He gulps down more than half of the drink in one go, letting out a contented gasp rivalling those portrayed in commercials. “You’re the man,” he burps at Jeno, “I love you so much.”
“Oh,” Mark pipes up, remembering something. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Jisung’s attention is on savouring the last drop of his drink. The words only register once he’s drained all the liquid. “Wait, what for?”
“For getting a girlfriend?”
Suddenly all activities come to a halt. Even the previously rowdy bunch stops making noise—god knows how they managed to hear that from all the way across the room.
“I have a girlfriend!?”
Bewildered, Mark purses his lips. “Haechan said so. He told me someone confessed to you yesterday and that, I quote, ‘Jisung’s got more game than all of us combined'.”
He can feel everybody’s eyes on him, waiting for his reply, but he’s still rendered speechless by the revelation.
“Is it just another one of his nonsense stories?”
Jisung picks his jaw up off the floor as the realisation dawns on him. He’s overcome with a surge of cold sweat. “A girl did talk to me yesterday.”
“Is ‘talk’ a new code word for confession?” Haechan is finally out of the bathroom he had been hogging the whole morning and already Jisung wants to shove him back in and lock the door. And throw the key far far away into the middle of the ocean.
“Okay, yeah, she said she liked me.” It’s painfully awkward having to explain about the incident himself. He has to stop, cringe and take a deep breath before continuing. “She—she looked like she was going to cry, so I panicked and… yeah.”
The whole room is deathly quiet and he feels weirdly persecuted.
“...That’s messed up.” For once, Haechan actually sounds serious. “You know, you can’t just get into a relationship out of pity.”
To say that Jisung is taken aback would be a grave understatement.
“That’s not it! You guys got it wrong, I only agreed to one date, only one! She was saying about how it’s our last year together in the same school and that she’d like to make some memories and all, and asked me to go out next weekend. That’s all. No girlfriend, no relationship.” He points to Haechan and frowns. “Can you stop spreading false information? How do you even know about this anyway?”
Like a group of hawks moving onto a new prey, everyone zeroes in on Haechan. He slowly retreats to take a seat, wearing the expression of a child trying to weasel out of punishment. “That girl’s sister is my classmate. She knows we live in the same dorm and she was doing that whole you-better-make-sure-he-takes-good-care-of-her-or-else shtick so I assumed you two were really dating.” As an afterthought, he murmurs, “Also, I only told Mark.”
Jisung breathes a small sigh of relief. At least the misunderstanding only took place within his own group of friends. Or so he hopes. It would be a nightmare to come to school on Monday and find the whole class teasing him for ‘getting a girlfriend’.
“I’ll be using the shower now, if that’s all for today’s drama episode.” Jaemin announces to the dissipating tension in the air.
“Ah, me too.” Jeno hurriedly grabs his towel when he sees Renjun preparing a change of clothes. They race to the only other unoccupied bathroom, bumping a couple of chairs and Mark’s stress level in progress.
It will take a while until he gets his turn and yet Jisung’s shirt has reached the point of being unbearably sweaty. Feeling gross, he rummages the wardrobe for a tank top to change into. It's only eleven in the morning and already he wants to go back to sleep. He’s exhausted, the bed is welcoming and the room is dark. He couldn’t initially see the pair of legs dangling from the top bunk.
“Hey,” he greets, tickling the sole of Chenle’s foot.
The boy yelps and jerks away in reflex. Jisung barely avoids a right kick to his nose, snorting like a madman. He stops once he realises Chenle isn’t laughing along like he usually does.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, still playing with the foot.
Chenle’s not answering.
“You’re not mad, aren’t you?”
Jisung racks his brain for all the possible reasons for the cold shoulder. “It’s not because I didn’t want to go to the pool, right? You even won against me.”
Still not a word.
“...Is it about the confession? I thought I made it clear I wasn’t—”
“I’m not mad.” Chenle wrenches his legs out of Jisung’s grasp. “I’m just, I don’t know. Sad? No. I was disappointed you didn’t tell me.”
He starts fiddling with his fingers. “It’s not like you really got a girlfriend, I get that, but I just thought what if you really did, or if something important happened and I only found out days later through someone else? It’s stupid, I know, but… Oh god!” He groans aloud and buries his face in his hands, clawing at his cheeks before settling with propping his jaw up with his fists. “I thought I was your best friend.”
Jisung doesn’t know what to feel when his heart skips a beat at Chenle’s admission. The only thing he’s certain of is not wanting to be the reason for any negativity his friend might feel. He climbs up the bed to nudge at him. Chenle curls away, stubbornly facing the wall.
“Hey,” he pokes Chenle’s waist. The boy flinches, trying to muffle his voice. That’s not a satisfactory reaction, Jisung deems. “Leleee,” he whines, ghosting his fingers across Chenle’s nape.
“Stop that! Stop calling me, stop tickling me!” Chenle howls, stuffing his face into a pillow. “I’m so embarrassed right now, leave me alone.”
“But you never did when I asked you to.”
Chenle throws him a side glare. Jisung counts it as a small victory.
“Go away. I know you’re secretly laughing at me.”
“Who said that? Stop making up assumptions. Don’t be like Haechan.” He snatches the pillow away only for Chenle to face plant the mattress. “Listen, you are my best friend.”
The bundle of hair shuffles around to reveal a single eye peeking at him.
“Gosh, now I get why you shriveled, that was pretty embarrassing to say,” Jisung hisses, scratching the sheet. “Anyway, I really didn’t think it was such a big deal, you know? But I get where you’re coming from.”
He waits until Chenle fully turns to him. “It’s nice to know, that you care.”
There’s still the faint trace of a frown in the way his lower lip juts out slightly, but living together has made Jisung adept at deciphering his roommate’s body language.
“Ice cream?” He offers his fist to Chenle.
The boy weakly knocks his knuckles. Jisung doesn’t miss the little gleam in his eyes when he looks up and demands, “Your treat.”
“Ah, this president is so stingy.”
He has never felt so glad to be hit by a pillow.
Come Monday, Jisung has to hold his breath before entering the classroom. Theoretically, it should be fine. The girl—his own classmate—is a very quiet person. The kind to shy away from boys and never makes trouble, an exemplary student of sorts. That’s mainly why it came as such a huge shock for him when she confessed last week. Assuring himself with those apparent facts, he opens the door-
and shuts it again.
Jisung internally sinks to the ground. His seat is exactly at the front left corner, so he couldn’t have seen it wrong. Before he can act on the impulse to bolt and ditch class for today, someone pulls on the door from the inside. Having not yet let go of the doorknob, he gets dragged along into the room.
“There you are! I was just about to go and call you back, come here.”
Meekly, he follows the class chairman to his seat, which is at the moment bombarded by what appears to be more than half of the girls in his class. The girl herself is nowhere to be seen. Jisung doesn't know whether or not that’s a good thing.
“Is it true?” One of them immediately questions.
They’re all looking at him expectantly and Jisung is glad he can at least sit down because his knees feel very weak right now. “What is?” he croaks, mind already blanking.
“Come on, don’t play dumb,” another one pushes, “you stay in a dorm with the high school students, right?”
Jisung blinks, wondering if he heard right. “Yes?”
“The senior, Mark Lee, he’s in that dorm too?”
“...Yes?”
The girls start making a ruckus and he’s officially thoroughly lost. “Wait, what is this all about?”
His own query is swallowed in the onslaught of questions.
“So you can see Mark Lee everyday?”
“I heard Lee Jeno also lives there.”
“No way, isn’t he the guy who danced on our entrance ceremony?”
“Wait, does that mean Na Jaemin stays in the same place?”
“Oh my god.”
“Who else is in your dorm?”
“Can I come to visit?”
The tap on his shoulder is a welcome distraction from the madness he’s currently facing. Jisung spins around and is met with the apologetic face of the friend who sits behind him.
“They were gossiping non-stop this morning, something about that Mark guy and the basketball team winning the district tournament. I told them you guys live in the same place.” He gestures to the group of girls and shakes his head. “Sorry man, I didn’t know they’d get so worked up.”
Jisung nods dazedly, finally getting a grasp of the situation he’s trapped in. This is totally not the interrogation he expected to go through; however, in hindsight, it’s a better scenario than the one he dreaded would happen.
The first thing Jisung does when he gets back is emptying out all the notes, sweets and snacks from his bag. Jaemin pauses the game he and Jeno were playing to pick up the nearest piece of candy.
"Not that I'm complaining about free food, but mind explaining what's the deal with these?"
He waves the candy around and raises his eyebrows at Jisung.
"I'm not entirely sure I understand either." Jisung slumps down to the carpet, eyes sorrowful. "Last week I was just a normal student living my normal, peaceful school life... and then today, suddenly, words spread that I'm the guy who lives with the objects of admiration of the female student body."
"Wow," is the very articulate, emotional response Jeno graces his performance with. Jaemin on the other hand is whistling, collecting the things with his name on it.
Jisung bounces back up, miffed. "That's all? No 'I'm sorry this had to happen to you', no 'poor thing, what did they make you do?' Not even a thank you? Or a chocolate or two, to make up for the trouble I went through?"
"Wow," Jeno repeats, "your rhymes are on point."
Jaemin flicks him a packet of kit-kat. "You're acting like Chenle. He's definitely rubbing off on you."
Jisung is starting to understand why Mark burns out so fast whenever he's around them.
"The whole day I kept getting questions on every little thing about you guys. I should've just aired your dirty laundry and be done with it."
Just thinking about it makes him shudder. He couldn't take his usual nap during lunch break, and as if that wasn't vexing enough, out of all days, he was scheduled for cleaning duty today. It took him approximately thrice the usual time to finish mopping because girls kept coming to drop off little notes and gifts on his desk. What do they think he is, a courier?
"I don't get why they can't just directly give these to you, we're practically in the same school." He viciously tears open the aluminium wrap. "I mean, the high school building is a three minute walk away!"
Mellowing a bit after the first bite of the wafery chocolate goodness, his curiosity begins to surface. "Is this a regular occurrence for you guys?"
"Nope," replies Jaemin. "There's the occasional letters and sometimes cookies, but never so many at once." He stops flipping through the post-its to read a particularly long message, written on a sheet Jisung recognises must be torn out from their school's math exercise book. "Aww, these kids say some pretty sweet words."
For his own well-being, Jisung will pretend he didn't just hear that.
"A lot of them are for Mark," Jeno speaks up. He has sorted out the mess Jaemin left behind into three sections; one for Mark, one for Haechan and another for himself.
Jaemin flips his hair and throws Jeno his Well Done, Captain Obvious smile. "That's the school jock you're talking about. And the school idol. Also the school nerd. He gets daily love letters from the teachers."
While Jisung is trying and failing to imagine Mark acting like a typical jock, Jeno drops a bomb on him.
"But if we're talking about gifts, doesn't Chenle get the most?"
"What?"
"Oh, you're right."
"What!?"
"He's really popular with the upperclassmen," Jaemin elaborates in a matter-of-fact tone, "People often crowd around him during lunch and give him all kinds of food. Especially the third years. They'd pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair, or simply stare at him and squeal when he smiles."
"I heard them calling him vitamin," Jeno supplies.
"Right, and stress reliever too."
There's so much to process Jisung doesn't even know where to start.
"What are those?"
“Some stuff from Jisung’s friends,” Jeno replies a beat too late, eyes stuck on the small screen where his avatar is currently beating the life out of Jaemin’s.
Jisung is still rooted to the same spot he was at thirty minutes ago, just that instead of staring blankly into the distance, he’s following Chenle’s every movement.
After scanning through the writings, a wrinkle forms between Chenle's brows. “There’s none for Renjun?”
Jaemin drops his controller with a grumble. He leans back to let Jeno choose the next game. “He transferred last year. I don’t think the middle school students know him.”
“I see.” Slinging his arm around Renjun’s shoulder, Chenle gives him a reassuring shake. “Don’t worry, since you’re handsome, I’m sure you’ll get lots of chocolates on Valentine’s day.”
Renjun chuckles and pats his hand. “I’m not worried, but thank you. Now, don’t you have somewhere to go?”
Chenle’s eyes widen. “You’re right.” He sprints to his room, makes some loud sounds, skips out with another backpack and puts on his shoes.
“But you just got back!” Jisung exclaims, “I thought we’re going to marathon dragonball today?”
“Sorry, group project.” He waves them goodbye and runs, voice echoing from the hallway, “I’ll see you later!”
Gone like the wind. There are so many things Jisung wants to ask him and he's supposed to wait for who knows how long. Right. He's definitely not sulking.
Detecting a prickle on the back of his head, he whips around to see Renjun giving him a pitying smile.
“Want to marathon moomin instead?”
They sit side by side in silence—Renjun watching his favourite show and Jisung darting his mind elsewhere. He looks around Renjun’s room for the umpteenth time without really committing anything to memory. To uncover the truth, or to stay oblivious.
“Can I ask you something?” He finally caves in to the bludgeoning curiosity.
Almost like he had been anticipating it, Renjun immediately directs his full attention to Jisung.
He cowers a little under the weight of the stare. “Is Chenle—does he have a lot of admirers?”
“He does,” Renjun hums, “Although not in the sense that you’re referring to.”
It could be his eyes playing tricks on him, but considering today is not Jisung’s day, it must be a real smirk he saw Renjun made. A very brief, very tiny, sly smirk.
“What do you mean?” He puts on a casual facade while trying to regulate his heartbeat.
"He’s a chick magnet, true, just without all the romance."
Hearing the words ‘chick magnet’ coming out of Renjun's mouth is like if somebody told him Mark was an alcoholic heavy smoker who beat up people in his pastime. In other words, they don’t correspond at all.
Mistaking his silent astonishment for confusion, Renjun decides to make it clear for Jisung. “It’s a motherly kind of affection. I guess he’s like the little brother everyone wishes to have.” He scoots closer and this time Jisung can’t even chalk it up to his imagination because that’s definitely a smirk on that so-called innocent face. “So you don’t have to worry too much.”
“Huh? Worry about what?”
Renjun's smile grows even more smug and Jisung regrets letting the question past his lips.
“Oh, I don’t know. That a girl might suddenly ask him out, and that he might accept, maybe? Like a certain someone.”
He’s not sure what exactly Renjun is insinuating with the last part, but it feels like he has just dropped a weight on Jisung’s stomach. Definitely not something pleasant. Is this what Chenle was feeling when he heard about Jisung's upcoming date? Because if it is, then he understands why the boy was so upset.
And yet, the more he thinks about it, the more his reasoning doesn't match. Chenle—when it comes to Jisung—is extremely nosy. He wants to be involved as much as possible, and thus his disappointment made perfect sense. Jisung, however, is nowhere as inquisitive. So why does the mere suggestion of Chenle going out with another person make him very, very uneasy?
Renjun grabs him by the shoulder. "Hey, I told you not to worry, right? Why do you look like somebody just stabbed you in the back."
Rather than worried, Jisung is actually scared. People may think he's slow and oblivious regarding this sort of thing, and that's pretty much true most of the time. But. He's not one to be stuck in denial. Even he knows this ugly mix of emotions is not an appropriate reaction to his supposed best friend's possible love life.
He dives for the bed in an attempt to forcibly stop the rapid train of thought. It doesn't work. Moomin's unblinking, judgemental eyes are telling him to stop freaking out and get a grip. Jisung retaliates by flipping the doll and squeezing it in agitation, paying no heed to Renjun's protests.
Ever since Chenle starts doing his group work, he has spent the entire time off school away. When he does go back to the dorm, it’s only to sleep, shower and eat. Jisung actually sees Mark more often than he does Chenle, and that’s when he knows it’s getting ridiculous.
“Who are you planning to kill?”
Strolling in front of him is Haechan, casually eating the ice cream Jisung relayed to him not too long ago. It gets him even angrier. Not merely because he thought the gifts finally stopped coming, but also for the sheer absurdity. Who in their right mind buys someone an ice cream on a hot summer day and not immediately give it to the person, but instead asks another person to please pass this to him I heard he likes chocolate flavour? It even comes in a nicely decorated cooler bag. If she was going to put so much effort Jisung can’t fathom why she wouldn’t just use a real delivery service.
“It’s you, obviously,” Renjun pipes in from the other side of the couch. Haechan gives him a dirty look.
“Seriously though, who pissed him off?” He speaks to Renjun this time, figuring Jisung won’t be opening his mouth anytime soon. “He’s glaring at nothing. Gives me the creeps”
Truth to be told, Jisung doesn’t get where all his frustration is coming from. He should be glad that Chenle’s away—he can take the time to really think about his feelings and how to deal with them. Figure out what he wants to do and where he plans on taking this whole liking more than friends thing and—yeah no. Five days of barely talking is honestly too much.
The sound of rustling keys snaps him out of his rumination. Jisung springs up to get a better view of the front door. A few prolonged seconds later enters Mark, and Jisung drops his hopeful countenance to slink back to the couch.
Haechan and Renjun exchange a look.
“Well that was very dramatic,” comments Haechan.
Mark slowly approaches them, gesturing at Jisung and cocking his head at the other two. Both shrug their shoulders back at him.
He steps closer to Jisung. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, sorry. I thought you were Chenle.”
“He’s not back? It’s almost nine.”
Haechan scoffs. “It’s Friday. Maybe he actually has a life, unlike us—”
“He’s still at his friend’s house doing group project,” Renjun intercepts while sneaking a glance, looking very pleased to catch Jisung’s frown deepening.
“Or not,” Haechan completes his sentence and turns to Renjun. “So you’re telling me this guy has been brooding all along because Chenle’s off doing school stuff somewhere?”
With unwarranted enthusiasm, Renjun bobs. “Precisely.”
Jisung grouches, choosing to ignore their subsequent conversation by escaping to his room.
At fourteen minutes to eleven Chenle enters the room, instantly simpering and calling out his name.
Jisung is this close to relenting, but he’s determined to prove he isn’t weak. He schools his features into a stern expression and puts on a low voice, “You missed hotdog night.”
“Or so you thought.” Chenle doesn’t even skip a bit with his counter, twirling around to present Jisung a plastic bag.
A plastic bag with a box inside, from which an incredible smell is coming from. Jisung involuntarily sits up.
Chenle flops down to his chair and wheels it by the bed. “You really think I’d forget?” he teases Jisung, bopping his nose with the sausage before feeding it to him.
Jisung chews down quietly. It’s sort of a tradition for them to get hotdogs every Friday, usually while out playing. He can’t even remember when or how it started; only that he’s always looking forward to kick start the weekend that way.
“You didn’t reply to my texts. And you’ve been coming back late this whole week. I thought you’d just go straight to sleep again.”
“I know, I know. I’ve been real busy,” he swallows down a mouthful with the help of water. “I really want the project finished by this week, you see.”
“Is it?”
Chenle shows him a thumb up.
Jisung perks up. “Good, good. That’s good. For the last few days it didn’t even feel like you actually live here.”
“I see somebody’s been missing me,” Chenle lilts, leaning close. Jisung grows flustered at the proximity and tries to crawl back, but Chenle is quick to keep him in place with an arm around his neck. “It’s okay, I’ll make it up to you. Tomorrow we’ll do whatever you want.”
Jisung is about to refute the accurate claim out of embarrassment when he remembers what day tomorrow is. “Ah,” he stutters uneasily, “tomorrow, uh, the date…”
He feels Chenle’s shoulders droop and watches his smile slip away only to be replaced by a huge grin in what must have been a very quick succession in reality, but plays in slow-motion for Jisung.
“Of course! How could I forget, honestly.” He whisks himself away to pace around the room. “What are you doing staying up this late? You should get plenty of sleep so you’ll look good and fresh tomorrow. I won’t hold you up anymore, go sleep now.”
Chenle pats his knee and leaves for the bathroom before Jisung could think of anything to say. The words were all a blur to him—he can only recall the weight of Chenle’s arm and the way his whole demeanour changed in a split second. He has never seen the boy so dejected before. He has no idea it would feel so painful to.
Chenle comes back in an hour later to turn off the lamp and climb to his bed. Jisung doesn’t sleep until he hears soft snoring coming from above.
“Jisung! Wake up! Jisung Park!” Someone is yelling in his ear and roughly shaking him. “You have a date, Jisung Park, you’re gonna be late!”
Jisung swats away at the intruder, who yanks him by the hand to drag him out of bed and into the shower.
“I know you’ll just wear whatever clothes are on top of the stack so I’ve generously picked out your outfit for today. Make sure to wash your hair and use my conditioner. Also, brush your teeth twice to make up for skipping last night,” Chenle dictates as he shuts the door in Jisung’s perplexed face.
It’s a lot to take in when his consciousness hasn’t fully set in. Doing as he’s told, Jisung lathers his hair and begins scrubbing. Is Chenle trying to pretend last night didn’t happen? If he thought he could fool Jisung with the act, then he’s terribly wrong. Swearing to set things straight, he marches out with renowned determination only to be ambushed by three pairs of hands.
Haechan pushes him down to a chair, on which Jaemin readily greets him with a hair dryer to the face. In the midst of the intense blowing session, Jeno starts combing his hair and styling it with two different hair gel products and another bottle of hairspray. Once they’re done, Haechan snaps a quick picture and sends him on his way out, where Chenle is already waiting with his bag.
“Here you go,” he heaves, adjusting the sling across Jisung’s torso. “I’ve put your phone, headphones, power bank, wallet and some snacks inside.”
Jisung glimpses down at the bag and back up again when he feels the touch on his shoulder. Chenle is brushing away the wrinkles on his dress shirt, adjusting the loose tie so that it falls nicely atop of the buttons.
He steps back to examine the work, scanning Jisung from head to toe, and slowly smiles when their eyes meet. “Don’t you look handsome today.”
“I do?” Jisung couldn’t help the tingle of excitement despite still feeling unsettled—it’s the first time Chenle calls him handsome, after all.
“You really do,” giggles the boy. “Now off you go, don’t leave the lucky girl hanging.” He places his palms on Jisung’s back and pushes him out.
“Wait!” Jisung scrambles for the door before it slams shut. “Wait, hey-”
Chenle peeps at him from the gap, mouth quirked. Jisung inhales and gulps down his nerves. “Can you wait for me to get back?”
The door opens a fraction wider. “Huh?”
“Tonight, I mean.”
“...That’s an odd request, but okay, I guess. Now go go go! You can’t be late on the first date, you know.” He gives Jisung one last shove and locks him out, cackling madly.
Jisung shakes his head, initially at Chenle’s antics and eventually at his own. He doesn’t know what came over him on that last question; he has absolutely no clue on how to approach the subject tactfully, especially considering the very weird timing.
But let’s put all that aside for a moment. The very least he could do now is to go on with the date and finish what he started. Yes. Because he’s a man of responsibility.
The moment he steps out of the building, regret envelopes his entire being. He’s been exposed to the sun for thirty seconds and counting and every single cell of his body is screaming to crawl back under the cool shade. Maybe it’s divine punishment for rejecting Chenle’s offer to the pool. Why else did he agree to go to the theme park in the afternoon of a weekend? Logic is evidently not one of his strong virtues in a state of panic.
Absorbed in his own thoughts, Jisung wouldn’t have stopped walking if the girl didn’t hesitantly poke him.
“Hi.”
“Oh. Hi.” Two words in and he has already made a fool of himself. Oh well. Here goes nothing. “Should we go?”
Contrary to his own prediction, it wasn’t a complete disaster. Lunch was an hour of awkward small talks and Jisung keeping his mouth stuffed as an excuse to speak even less. It got much better once they started going on rides. Despite his reservations, he wound up enjoying most of the theme park and even bought a souvenir. By dinner, they could actually converse like a pair of school friends. Rather stilted and and strained at times, but a conversation nonetheless.
At the end of the day, as they were walking to the bus stop, the girl asks him a question he has prepared an answer to. That doesn’t make it any easier to say.
“I’m sorry. I’m not making this up just to… you know,” Jisung pauses, head bowed. He can see the girl trying to hold back her tears from his peripheral vision. “There’s someone I like.”
She nods, biting her lips into a smile. “I see.” Choking back a sob, she frantically wipes at her cheeks. “Well, I’m glad anyway. Thank you for spending the day with me. I was really, really happy.”
When Jisung breaks out of his frozen stance, he digs into his pocket and hands her a packet of tissue.
The girl accepts it with a laugh. “At least I have this date to look back on.”
Jisung never stops thinking about her words on his trip back home.
The dorm is dark and quiet by the time he returns. Jisung tiptoes inside and notices the light seeping past the transom window of his room. After readying himself with a long exhalation, he opens the door and finds Chenle watching a video on his phone. He's on the lower bunk—tangled in Jisung's blanket and snuggled in Jisung's bed like he owns them. The sight gives him a good kind of heart ache.
Chenle unplugs his earphones and shoots up when he sees him, almost hitting his head on the bed frame. “You’re back! How was it? Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. They’ve got lots of rides, I think you’ll love it.” He plops down beside Chenle and hands him a paper bag. “I also got you something.”
Chenle sets aside his phone to take the gift. He beams at the content and immediately puts it on. “Pikachu headband!” he laughs, and Jisung couldn’t help but chuckle along. “This is so cute, did you buy it at the park?”
“Yes,” he hums, balancing the ears on Chenle’s hair. “We should go together next time, when you’re free.”
Tilting his head back, Chenle leers at him. “Ayy, what is this? Are you asking me out?”
“I am.”
If there’s a thing he learned from his date today, it’s that failing is infinitely better than never knowing what might happen if you just try. So, although Chenle’s smile is falling off of his face, Jisung will not go back on his words.
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He breaks their eye contact to playfully tangle Chenle’s fingers with his own. “It doesn’t have to be at the park. We can go anywhere you want.”
When Jisung trails his gaze up, Chenle has his face turned away, buried in the sleeve of his pyjamas. It’s a funny sight. Chenle rarely gets shy around him anymore, but whenever he does, Jisung has to force himself to calm down because he finds it unfairly adorable.
“Say something,” he chuckles, tugging on Chenle’s little finger.
“...”
“I can’t hear you.”
“I said yes!”
At last Chenle drops the arm covering his face. Jisung wastes no time in seizing it despite the other boy burning holes into his skin.
“How scary,” Jisung taunts, inching closer. “You’re really red right now.”
“...I’m cancelling our date.”
Our date.
It's Saturday night and he has both of Chenle’s hands in his. They're sitting side to side, thighs pressed to one another. It’s real now. He’s really done it.
“You can’t,” he asserts, unable to stop grinning. Lifting up their linked fingers, he jiggles them and presses their thumbs together. “Look, we did a pinky promise.”
Chenle bites his lip to shake away the smile he fails to contain. Jisung fights the urge to reach for his phone and take a picture. He’ll savour it in memory and enjoy the moment, basking in the glow radiating from the other boy.
“You’re really something else.”