Work Text:
Everything starts with the simplest of things.
A perfect kind of coincidence— if you believed in that.
The sunlight filtered through the train’s glass doors and was shining right over a man standing near the exit, bathing him in a kind of light that drew Jongin to stare at him a little longer than what was considered acceptable.
The stranger's eyes were downcast, fixated on something on his phone as the lull of Monday morning chatter went about inside the train.
He was beautiful—Jongin didn’t have to move any closer to realize that— and unfairly breathtaking without even trying. Before long, Jongin’s heartbeat sped up, and he quickly pulled his phone out without thinking. Moving on instinct he snapped a photo—uncaring of all the other people around—and of course, a minute detail.
His flash was on.
The flash goes off and every person standing in front of Jongin looks up to find the source, expressions going from curious to shocked.
“Oh, shit.” Jongin murmurs, hiding his phone in his back pocket a second too late.
The man he took a photo of was staring right at him with wide, unblinking eyes. The rush of blood pumping through his ears as his heart skips a beat temporarily deafens him from the world; everything fading into the background as he drowns in those big, brown eyes. Eventually, reality catches up with him and he snaps out of it; looking away as his cheeks color in embarrassment.
No matter how far he cranes his head away or how hard he stares at the ground, the nagging feeling of someone watching him doesn’t go away.
One tiny glance in the stranger’s direction after a while confirms Jongin’s suspicions, and he doesn’t know whether to be elated at the discovery or want to bury himself six feet under and make it his permanent home.
Nevertheless, the attention becomes suffocating—up until he actually physically chokes under the other’s intense gaze.
Obviously unnerved, Jongin tries his hardest to brush his look off, staring at anywhere but him with a neutral expression on his face.
But the seconds tick by where the other person does not relent, and Jongin finally cracks. A nervous excuse slips past his bite-swollen lips.
“I was taking this for a friend, no biggie.”
What, Jongin internally yells, cheeks flaming at his mistake.
He prays that the little eyebrow raise he got from the stranger was a hallucination, and quickly turns the other way to cut the (one-sided) conversation short.
His nape prickles but he’s also cringing inside so hard his stomach muscles feels stuck, leaving him tense but lightheaded. If this keeps up, he was going to pass out.
He’s saved from further embarrassment though when the train stops and he arrives at his destination, legs moving towards the exit so he could leave as soon as possible.
He chances a final glance at the handsome stranger despite it all, and finds him still looking at him, even as he steps out of the platform.
A corner of the stranger’s lips tilt upward right before the doors close, an image Jongin vows to burn onto the back of his mind for when he has sad days and gloomy nights.
The train restarts and Jongin watches as it goes, up until it’s no longer in view, and quickly glances down at the photos he took on his phone.
Jongin’s so glad he’s set his camera on burst, a smile slowly spreading on his face as he stares at the pictures of the beautiful stranger and his different expressions.
In a second, he was able to capture him eight ways candid—the last shot of him staring at the camera with a totally unguarded expression effectively melting his heart. Jongin internally swoons.
He clutches his phone tighter in his hand, throwing one last wistful glance at the train tracks before walking left towards the exits, lengthy strides making up for the time he took gaping at the beautiful stranger on the train.
He was running late—as usual—but at least he got a souvenir out of this unlike all those other days.
He runs to school with a smile on his face and a beautiful stranger in his thoughts.
xx
That was the last he's seen or heard of the person in the train, much to his disappointment. Noticing belatedly that the person went to a school just outside of town (judging from the uniform he was wearing that day on the photos he took), Jongin was kind of expecting him to pop up when he was out on a stroll in the town square.
The town square is, after all, where the college kids from both the north and south parts of town come together during the weekends. He made sure to always go out looking his best.
To say Jongin was disappointed every time he came up empty when he searched for the stranger during his walks was an understatement.
But eventually, he got over it—six months, eight days, and a couple of hours later. But who’s counting, right?
It’s his first day back in college, as a sophomore now, so he no longer had to wear the ugly ass gray uniforms they forced all freshmen to wear.
He was a newbie at this university too, despite technically not transferring. He had switched campuses; from the busy part of town to the not-so busy, still-as-big campus—only two hours away from his home and the main campus. He decided to take up his BS in Maths in the smaller campus so he could try his hand out living in dorms (and maybe, just maybe, meet hot new schoolmates to forget old crushes in trains).
So of course, despite not knowing what to expect today, he has his hopes up.
xx
Walking to school was a breeze when you live in one of the on-campus dorms.
Commuting and getting late due to traffic was no longer a problem, and Jongin liked that very much. More time to sleep in since he really didn’t need to get out of bed until 9 for his 9:30 am class.
The very same one he’s walking to right now in fitted jeans and the band shirt of his choice.
This new campus is, like its mother ship, noisy. Brimming with teenagers and school spirit. And of course, that distinct smell of freshly mowed grass.
During the start of every school term, the entire school always smelled like nature which, Jongin will take this to his grave, pleased him very much. Nothing beats the earthy smell of education at ass o’clock in the morning.
Jongin chuckles at the thought, mind already far away as his legs take him in aimless walks.
Eventually, when his vacation-addled brain finally decides to start working, he’s already lost.
Jongin turns in a perfect 360 as he surveys just where his muscle memory took him.
Nothing is familiar. And, based from what his squinted eyes can see from his far right, he has walked past the general admissions and is now entering in college territories.
He pulls his tattered class schedule out of his back pocket, straightens it out on his palm, and tries to figure out where the hell he’s supposed to go.
“So...according to this, I’m having Art History for first period, at...the Humanities.”
Jongin looks up, the bronze lettering on the building in front of him reading “College of Engineering”.
“Ah, fuck.” He mutters, bringing a hand up to tug at the ends of his hair above his nape (because he took too much time styling his hair that morning that he couldn’t even bear the thought of messing the top part up).
He stands there dumbly for a while before deciding to walk left up until he runs out of buildings to find. He came this far after all, he has faith in his leg’s intuition.
The longer he walks, the fewer students there are loitering around the campus grounds. Classes are probably on going now, while Jongin’s stuck out here walking in circles like an idiot.
He sighs, thinking about actually making friends in this college so he doesn’t have to go through this again.
He’s about to give up and walk straight to the campus cafeteria when a firm poke at his back catches his attention. He turns around, and is met with round, owlish eyes beneath circle framed glasses.
Jongin swears his life flashes before his eyes as everything slow-mos in front of him; the person who poked him opening his mouth to say something, plump lips brushing against each other in exaggeration. The other person’s hair even flips in the wind, and Jongin suddenly feels faint.
He realizes who it is, and only hopes among all gods and deities alike that it isn’t who he think it is.
“Uh, hey? Hello?” The person prompts him, waving one palm over his face. “Earth to jock, did you catch anything I said?”
“Urgh…” Jongin gurgles unintelligently, brain barely catching up with what the heck is happening right now.
The person groans and rudely turns his back on him, mumbling none too silently as he walks away. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked a jock. How many college themed movies have I watched? Plenty . And yet here I am asking one like they actually knew shit in real life. Tragic.”
The other’s harsh comments stir something in him and Jongin bolts to catch up with his quick strides, grabbing his arm a little too desperately when he reaches him. “W-wait!”
“What?” The person asks as he turns, tone bordering on annoyed.
Jongin gulps and steels himself. “Take what you said back. About the jocks.”
The person raises an eyebrow at him and the resemblance is definitely uncanny. Jongin almost wants to punch himself awake as his phone burns in his pocket. He was already paying for the weird shit he did on that train, he was sure.
“What?” The person repeats, only more incredulously.
“I have a friend who’s a jock, and he isn’t dumb okay. I mean-- I’m not a jock, by the way, that was bad stereotyping--but um, yeah. Jocks. Not dumb. Hngh.”
Jongin makes a weird sound at the end of his brain fart and now, he thinks, is the opportune moment for him to die. He keeps waiting for the ground to crack open and swallow him whole though it never does, and he’s forced to face the mortifying dead air as the person digests what he had just said.
Eventually, the other person begins showing signs of life instead of just staring at him like he’s insane; eyebrows furrowing and then his head is shaking left to right--as if he was shaking off bad thoughts.
Jongin could imagine and probably name a few.
He gulps, and braces himself for whatever retort this person has.
“Well, okay. I’m sorry, I guess. But if you aren’t going to help me get to wherever the fuck they hold lectures with books and shit, I’m gonna go.”
When Jongin doesn’t respond, he just blinks once at him and then turns on his heel. And leaves. Just like that.
Jongin is left standing there in the middle of the school grounds, gaping like an idiot with his heart (and brain) trapped at the bottom of his stomach.
His brain catches up with him when the person is no longer anywhere near him, and helpfully supplies a response several beats too late.
“Err, I’m lost too, but I don’t mind getting lost with you?” He says under his breath with no gusto to the mostly deserted grounds. He sighs, and then kicks a nearby rock. It goes tumbling off into the grass, lost forever, like his game.
“What good is a fucking pick up line if no one is there to hear it??” Jongin grumbles, hands crossed over his chest as he pouts. Right there, under the sun, by himself. But he has to, damnit. Because he’s upset. Nothing else matters when he’s upset. So sulk he does.
After a good few seconds of sulking, he realizes that he’s still late, and will probably never make it to first period.
“Shit!”
He naruto runs it out of the grounds and into one of the random college buildings.
He makes it--he finally fucking makes it--and sits his ass down way in the back.
The professor doesn’t even spare him a glance, just drones on as he flails his index cards threateningly at anyone close enough to hear.
There’s writing on the whiteboard and syllabi are being passed around. He had like 30 minutes left from this two hour class of his, and is glad he made it just in time for the important part.
Sure, rarely anyone cares about the class syllabus anymore; but if you’re a lazy ass like Jongin who doesn’t like studying but actually wants to pass, the syllabus is going to be your best friend.
So he patiently waits until the bundle of papers reach him, eyes quickly scanning the front page top to bottom and--he gasps.
Jongin flips the two page hand out front and back to back and front but no, the words don’t change at all. It says Art History alright...but its for juniors. There’s a III in fine print next to the subject header.
His insides churn at the realization and almost immediately shoots out of his seat, syllabus still clutched in his hand.
He has about 20 minutes to look for the right class and hopefully not flunk on the first day. Jongin tells himself this to avoid from full on panicking, bowing at the professor once when he sees him rushing down the steps.
He’s almost to the door when he bodily collides with another student that just stood up, sending them tumbling down in an awkward mess of limbs and wasted syllabi.
Their collision is enough to attract attention, and Jongin is blushing first before he’s shoved away forcefully from the body he had toppled over.
“Ow,” he winces, rolling over to push himself upright.
“Boys, are you alright?” The professor asks when he nears them, brows furrowed in concern.
“We’re fine,” a deep voice answers from his right, and Jongin stills.
That voice...
He looks sideways and sure enough it was the guy from before--also the very same guy he embarrassed himself in front of in the train.
Same cute height, cute face, skewed glasses obscuring dagger eyes. A perfect match.
As usual, he can barely stop himself from staring, his stun spells seemingly getting worse with every meeting. He could only wish he had the same effect on the other person, though.
But alas, reality couldn’t have been farther.
“You again.” The person says as he stands up, catching Jongin openly gaping at him.
But he doesn’t seem to have the time to tolerate Jongin’s incompetent ass anymore as he’s unceremoniously shoved aside.
“Move deadweight, I’m late.”
And for the third time in his life, Jongin watches him walk away. But no-- no, Jongin insists. No more. Not this time.
So in typical TV worthy fashion, he jogs up to him, hand outstretched with his heart sitting atop his palm for the other person’s taking.
“Wait!”
The doors slam in his face as the person hightails out of there, leaving Jongin to eat his dust--twice now in the duration of a day.
Jongin’s pout and wounded heart drown out all murmurs and reactions from the class he’s still in. Not even sparing anyone a glance, he steps out, head hanging low.
So much for first days and second chances.
Jongin takes his frustrations out with a glucose eat out in the cafeteria.
His tray is full of cupcakes, a slice of cake and some chocolate pudding. There’s almost enough sweets in there for his tonsilitis to flare up again but he doesn’t care. If he was going to stress eat, he was going all out.
Like the facebook foodporn slogan he saw on his newsfeed: food is love, food is life.
He sits on an empty table closer to the walls, his friendless state obvious as the cliques crowd him in every direction. Jongin was the only lone soul sitting by himself as far as he can tell. And that made him sadder somehow.
Being a newbie sucked.
“At least this chocolate cake has my back. Chocolate cake wouldn’t judge or runaway from me.”
Jongin sighs dramatically before taking a bite of his cake, his mood instantly improving with every chew. Before long, he no longer feels mopey as the cake slice dwindles into crumbs on his plate.
He’s on his second slice when a tray thuds unceremoniously in front of his. Jongin jumps in his seat.
He looks up, mouth still full of food hanging open as round eyes meet his. The newcomer challenges him with a pointed look before sitting down.
It’s quiet for a few tense seconds as Jongin focuses on chewing and breathing, not entirely in that order, so he doesn’t accidentally end up spitting everything out on the person across him.
When he’s done, they’re both still quiet, so Jongin brings it upon himself to break that.
“Uh--”
“So--”
They speak at the same time and it surprises them both, lips quirking up in embarrassed smiles.
Jongin realizes it's the first real smile he’s ever gotten from the other, in the short time that they’ve met and quickly decides that it's his new favorite thing.
Beautiful in all its heart shaped glory, his smile is made even more valuable with how rare it's given out. Proven by how the person frowns right back like he’s displeased Jongin’s staring at him. Again. Like this was some new development.
If it was Jongin, he muses, the other should have been used to it by now.
The person gestures around him before talking again. “So, as I was saying. The cafeteria is full, I’m hungry, and with the shit we went through today, you already feel like a friendly face.” He takes a deep breath.
“Then, let’s share a table, jock?”
There’s that smile again and honestly Jongin is a goner. This person could ask for all of his food and his lunch money and he would still say yes.
So he does it, he says yes.
“Yes--I mean, sure.” He flashes a smile of his own, hoping he still retained that charming smile he was told he had back in high school.
It works, maybe, because the person is laughing--giggling, even, and Jongin’s ego soars.
And then horribly spirals downwards when the person reaches for his phone in his bag and then hands it over to him with the camera opened.
There are chocolate stains on his front teeth and Jongin immediately shrinks into himself in utter embarrassment. His cheeks are aflame, his teeth are dirty, his crush is laughing at him and he just wants to leave.
But then a pack of tissues are being shoved in his direction, causing Jongin to reconsider.
“You have a little something…” the person says cryptically, but when Jongin musters enough courage to look him in the eye again he’s smiling. A little fondly, if he lets his imagination run wild.
So he murmurs his thanks, turns around to wipe the plague from his teeth, and tries another smile, this time shy.
Jongin hands the tissues back when the smile doesn’t leave the other’s face.
“Thanks. I’m uh, sorry about that.”
The person shakes his head to shrug his apology off.
“Don’t worry about it.” He chews on some nachos thoughtfully, and then says, “When’s your next class?”
Jongin scrambles for his class schedule balled up somewhere in his back pocket, just to keep the conversation going without pause.
“Um. Says here I have Calculus 121 at 2.”
The other wrinkles his nose in obvious dislike. “Mm. Mine’s Introduction to Geometry, also at 2.”
Jongin perks up. “Are you a Maths major too?”
The person balks, putting his nacho down and leaving it to drown in the cheddar dip.
“God no, it’s an elective. I’m in the College of Music. Which is the farthest building on the Campus by the way, for some goddamn reason. But you said “maths major too” does this mean you are?”
Jongin nods, proud of his Maths-wired brain. He sucked at everything else, but he was a winner in math. That was one thing he knew he was good at.
“Cool.” A few beats, and then, “sorry for calling you a jock, because you obviously aren’t.”
Jongin guffaws at the embarrassed look on the other’s face as he apologizes. “Honestly I’m not really offended. Good to know those weeks in the gym weren’t for naught.”
He doesn’t know what overcomes him but he flexes, right above all his pastries, coupled with an animated wiggle of his brows. But it works, and the person is kicking him under the table.
Jongin knows it isn’t a footsie but the jolt he feels from the action certainly feels like one.
“You’re so lame, I don’t really know why I’m talking to you.”
Jongin chokes and laughs out loud nervously, having an unwarranted flashback to the shit he pulled in the train.
“Yeah...I wonder why too.”
"Actually, there might be a reason." The person muses, and Jongin braces himself for the inevitable. He's gonna be found out and labeled forever as the train weirdo--
"You look oddly familiar, but I cant quite put my finger on it."
The other squints, and if Jongin wasn't busy sweating his life away he would have found it endearing.
But then a miracle happens and the other just shrugs, dropping the topic altogether.
The conversation dies down at this point, and they both devour their food in silence (well as silent as a crowded cafeteria would be at lunch).
Its an unspoken agreement when they both stand up to leave that they would walk to their classes together, Jongin internally breakdancing at this turn of events.
“The College of Maths and Sciences are this way, if you haven’t been there yet.” Jongin says as he steers them towards the right direction, his companion silently walking beside him.
“I’m new, if you can’t tell.” The person suddenly blurts out when they’re almost there, and Jongin resists jumping out of his skin at the outburst.
“I’m-um, technically I am too, since I came from the main campus.”
The other nods, and then reaches a hand out. His eyes are distractingly bright when he and Jongin make eye contact. He swallows and the familiar warmth that swirls in his stomach spread upwards to his chest.
He takes it, and they shake. Firmly. Jongin might have squeezed him too, he can’t really tell whose grip is stronger.
“I’m Do Kyungsoo, sophomore, a singing major. Nice to meet you.”
A name, Jongin swoons. He finally has a name to the gorgeous face he’s spent so many a time dreaming about.
“Kyungsoo…” He tests the name out on his tongue, and decides he likes the way it sounds and how it rolls off rather coolly.
Kyungsoo, like a silent adventure waiting to happen. Jongin’s heart can’t wait.
Kyungsoo smiles at him as he waits expectantly, their steps slowing when they reach the front of the building.
Jongin almost slaps himself when he realizes the other is waiting for him to tell him his name.
“O-oh! I’m Jongin. Kim Jongin, also a second year student--Maths major. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Kyungsoo.”
Their hands finally separate and a beat passes before they go on their merry ways to look for their classrooms.
Jongin’s smile doesn’t leave his face, even when their calculus professor swamps them with copious amounts of homework on the first day. Equations this, Newton and Leibniz that. Honestly he couldn’t be bothered. He’d freak out about this later.
But right now, all he could think of was finally learning the name of the guy he’s spent months crushing on, pining on a would-be stranger from a faithful ride on the train.
He had a name! And, Jongin thinks mischievously, he could probably stalk him on facebook now instead of grasping on fate's straws.
He’s still on high spirits as all his classes end, smile bordering on permanent as he makes his way to the library. Amidst all the haze he remembered a book he had to borrow was in the university library, prompting the short visit he was making now.
It was something on the Theory of Derivatives, amazon link also provided by their teacher in case they could no longer find copies in the library.
But since Jongin is a broke bitch and student loans were already biting his ass, he would fight tooth and nail for a free copy.
Kyungsoo is still at the back of his mind as he scours the shelves for the book, his brain juggling thoughts of Kyungsoo and Maths like some skilled clown. Jongin chuckles. He was just too happy.
He spots the book after a few mindless searches, maybe after three repeated scans, as he was still pretty much out of it.
The book was worn and old like all the other library books beside it, no other volumes present. Seems like he found the last one. He does a fist pump to congratulate himself, and then reaches for it.
Bony fingers beat him to it though, and he startles.
“Oh! It's you.”
Jongin glances to the person standing next to him and smiles, the apple of his eyes and the muse of his thoughts materializing right before his very eyes.
“Hi, it’s me.”
(When Jongin wished to run into cute guys more before he began his sophomore year, he never would have imagined it was going to come true-- let alone be taken literally.)