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Jihoon thinks that it’s the three bottles of energy drink he’s consumed in the last three hours, or maybe the fact that he’s had only a total of two hours of sleep in the last thirty-six hours. Maybe it’s the chilly weather that seeps through the small gap between Woojin’s windows that causes Jihoon to move in closer – makes him want to bury his face on the crook of Woojin’s neck.
Jihoon’s aware of the dangerous and wandering hand tracing circles on his waist, of Woojin’s breath, faintly smelling of coffee, blowing on his cheek, of the warmth that radiates from Woojin’s body – which will probably be the main culprit if Jihoon falls into slumber at any given minute. Jihoon doesn’t try to avoid any of Woojin’s advances. He doesn’t think his judgement is clouded yet; thinks he’s still able to make sound decisions despite the disgusting amount of caffeine he’s managed to consume.
So, Jihoon, who has forced himself to believe that anything going on between him and Woojin is strictly platonic, has a hard time trying to justify to himself the non-existence of his feelings given the situation he’s somehow managed to put himself in.
Here, on the carpeted floor of Woojin’s bedroom, lying on their sides and facing each other in silence. Jihoon’s eyes scan Woojin’s disheveled state, hair ruffled, clothes wrinkled and crooked, and realizes that they have stopped being productive two hours ago when Woojin closed his textbook shut and started talking about some film he wanted to watch. Their respective materials lie forgotten beside their feet, and Jihoon knows that they won’t be any more productive until dawn breaks.
It’s probably the energy drinks, the exhaustion, or the cold weather that makes Jihoon allow Woojin to intertwine their fingers together, lets Woojin lift it up to his mouth and press his soft lips against the back of Jihoon’s palm, all while looking at Jihoon through his lashes.
Maybe it’s because Woojin’s had one cup too many of coffee that he kisses Jihoon first at the corner of his mouth, and then full on the lips. Jihoon thinks that might mess with Woojin’s brain (and his, because he doesn’t really say or do anything to make Woojin stop).
It’s not attraction; definitely has nothing to do with romantic feelings. It’s a spur of the moment, maybe even just his imagination.
Except, in the morning when he wakes up, his heart is beating fast, he’s all tangled up with Woojin and it’s definitely not a dream.
This shouldn’t be a problem, but it is because Jihoon has a resolution to reject coming into any romantic relationship.
At twenty years old, Jihoon feels worn and tired not only of love, but of people in general. He is tired of people and their selfish tendencies when he’s trying his best to go the extra mile for others. He has been hurt and betrayed by his own feelings and by people he never would think would have the capability of breaking his heart.
Wearing his heart on his sleeve is a weakness and he builds up a wall with no intention of letting anyone break them down for a while.
So, this thing with Woojin is a problem, because he promised himself that he would never let himself fall in love; would never give anyone a chance to hurt him again, and Woojin’s tearing down his walls like they’re paper-thin and Jihoon has no idea what to do.
Woojin’s watching him from from the edge of the bed as he hastily collects his things, shoving them inside his bag. Woojin is still groggy from sleep while Jihoon has managed to wake himself up the moment he opened his eyes when he panicked upon the realization that the weight of Woojin’s arm on his waist prevented him from moving at all.
“Do you want to—” Woojin says carefully, like he’s treading on thin ice, “—borrow clothes and walk to class together? You’ll be late if you go back to your apartment,” he reasons out. It’s probably the most plausible idea. “We can go get breakfast together.”
“No,” Jihoon shoots his suggestion down too quickly. Borrowing clothes is a relationship thing, like a mark of ownership. He would smell like Woojin, and that’s really the last thing he needed. “I’m skipping first period. Didn’t really finish what I had to do last night,” he says, like Woojin’s to blame.
“Oh.” Woojin slumps in his seat. “Sorry.” Jihoon doesn’t want to look at him, but he can clearly tell that Woojin feels dejected purely by his tone. “Will I see you later in History class?”
Jihoon walks out of the bedroom to the front door of the apartment with Woojin tailing closely behind. “I don’t know. Maybe not. I have to catch up on sleep too. You should go get ready. You’ll be late,” he tells Woojin, because he knows Woojin, more responsible than he’ll ever be, won’t ever think of missing class without adequate reason. He hurries into his shoes even if he knows that he’s far from looking quite decent. He doesn’t want to stay any longer.
“Will I see you tonight?” Woojin asks when Jihoon’s about to open the door. “Jihoon, did I do something wrong?” He adds quickly.
Jihoon lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding, stops himself from turning the knob, and drops his hand to his side. He turns back to Woojin and awkwardly scratches on the back of his neck. “Can we forget about last night?”
Woojin’s mouth falls slightly agape, completely dumbfounded. “Okay,” Woojin says after a few moments. “But can we talk about it first?”
Jihoon shrugs. “There’s really nothing to talk about.”
“If you’re acting like this, maybe there is,” Woojin retorts. There’s a look of desperation in his eyes and a hint of frustration in his voice. “Come on, Jihoon.”
Jihoon is set on running the opposite way, ignore and avoid the issue at hand forever and move on by himself. Pretend like nothing ever happened. He would rather never acknowledge what needs to be acknowledged. It would be the convenient thing to do.
“I don’t want a relationship. Of any kind. You know that and you know why.” They’ve had this conversation before. Only, Woojin hadn’t shown any signs that he was interested in Jihoon then, and was only brought in the loop of Jihoon’s devastating past because they had accidentally ran into Jihoon’s ex in the mall. Jihoon never needed to reiterate this until now, but he can’t really blame Woojin for it either.
Last night happened because a part of him wanted it to anyway.
“I’d be thankful if we can go back to the way we were before.”
The tension in Woojin’s shoulders loosen and he sighs in defeat. There’s not much he can do. “Done. Last night didn’t happen. I don’t want to lose you over this.”
Jihoon wishes it’s as simple as that, and the both of them try to fool themselves into thinking that it is.
Everything kind of goes back to the way they were before.
Midterm week comes around and all the students become busy with exams, reports, and deadlines. The library is packed by the time the sun has set, and Jihoon starts to have problems with concentrating when there is too much happening in once place. He turns to Woojin, who has plugged in his earphones fifteen minutes ago, and taps on his arm. “Do you think we could move somewhere else? Maybe that new 24-hour milktea place near your building? There’s too many people here.”
Woojin isn’t able to hide the surprise in his face when he stutters to get out a reply, “Oh? Um, alright? Just. Let me pack my things. Yeah.”
Daehwi and Jinyoung, who are seated across the table, look between the two of them, intrigued.
Jihoon stops Woojin.“No, wait. It’s okay if you don’t want to go. Do you want to stay?”
“No,” Woojin answers. “I just wasn’t expecting you to invite me over after—” Woojin opens his mouth and regrets it immediately. “Yeah. Sorry. Just let me go to the lavatory and we’ll leave.”
Jihoon nods with a smile as he packs his own stuff. When he looks across the table, the two younger boys pretend like they haven’t been listening in and quickly go back to their own textbooks. “You guys want to come with us?”
Daehwi shakes his head. “We’ll stay here, hyung. We were thinking of going home in a while anyway. But, uh. If you don’t mind me asking, don’t you think Woojin hyung is acting a bit weird?”
Jihoon’s heart drops and he pretends like he has no idea about what Daehwi is talking about. He scratches the back of his neck and lies through his teeth. “Really? I didn’t notice.”
Daehwi looks at Jinyoung. “Maybe it’s just you,” Jinyoung shrugs, and they all leave it at that.
Jihoon doesn’t expect going back to the way it was before to be easy, but hopes that it is sort of is.
They go to class together, eat out together, play frisbee together under the sun when their schedule permits it, and walk home together like always without any awkwardness from the both of them.
He doesn’t quite remember when his life grew an extra branch, with Woojin naturally easing himself into Jihoon’s world as if he’d always been meant to be a part of it. They started out as strangers who had nobody else to cling to when they first entered university, to being acquaintances when Seongwu introduced them to each other at his party, to being partners-in-crime, becoming even closer to each other than with the person that had acquainted them with each other, to being the best of friends to the point that Woojin and Jihoon have become inseparable when their friends talk about them, without the both of them even noticing it.
Of course, Jihoon is now fully-aware of how close they are, but the thought of Woojin being something as more than just a friend hadn’t occurred to him. Not until he’s felt the warmth of Woojin’s body against his own, and not until someone else mentions it.
Then it hits him and it hits him too hard.
When class starts and the seat next to him is left unoccupied, Jihoon becomes worried.
Woojin hasn’t given him a heads up that he would be late or will skip class entirely, which he always does whenever he isn’t able to make it to any subject that they have together. There’s an unsettling feeling in Jihoon’s stomach when fifteen minutes later their professor starts marking absences on his record with no sign of Woojin anywhere.
To his left, Sungwoon diligently listens to the lecture and takes down notes. Jihoon taps on his arm softly and whispers, “Hey. Would you, by any chance, know why Woojin isn’t in class today?”
Sungwoon scowls at him. “Why would I know?” Jihoon retracts his arm back to his own desk, completely understanding that his seatmate absolutely does not want to be bothered, but just when Jihoon is gradually trying to listen to the lecture, Sungwoon speaks up again. “Also, aren’t you, like, supposed to know if your boyfriend is coming to class or not?”
Too loudly, Jihoon’s metal pencil case falls to the ground, with dozens of pens and pencils clattering on the tiled floor. The room becomes silent, their professor stops talking, and everyone’s eyes is on Jihoon.
He doesn’t know what to process first — the fact that his middle-school-appropriate metal pencil case disrupted the entire lecture, the way his pens are all scattered on the floor like pick-up sticks, or the echoing sound in his mindof Sungwoon telling him that he should know where Woojin is because Woojin is, fucking apparently, his boyfriend. He stands up to bow at his professor and at all four corners of the room to apologize to his classmates. The lecture resumes shortly as he picks up his things, and Sungwoon clicks his tongue at the mess that is Jihoon.
When he has settled down on his seat, he leans towards Sungwoon again and half-whispers half-shouts at a volume that should only be minimally disturbing to the class, “Why’d you say that Woojin is my boyfriend?”
“Aren’t you?” Sungwoon asks monotonously, obviously unimpressed.
“No?”
Sungwoon puts his pen down and raises his eyebrows at Jihoon. “Are you asking me?’
“No? I’m telling you that he isn’t my boyfriend?”
Sungwoon narrows his eyes at Jihoon. “You don’t sound so sure.”
Jihoon blinks. “He isn’t my boyfriend.”
Sungwoon stares at Jihoon for a long agonizing five seconds before he goes back to writing. “I think he is.”
“We’re not —”
It rains pens and pencils for the second time and Jihoon could only bow his head and mumble, “Sorry for being born,” when the whole class stares at him, waiting for an apology.
When he checks his phone after that trainwreck of a period he sees that Woojin has replied to him somewhere in the middle of the mess, saying I didn’t wake up on time. Update me what I missed in class, yeah? And Jihoon can’t help but laugh in incredulity, because Woojin better be dying first before Jihoon can truly narrate what just happened.
He goes to lunch in a trance, overthinking things he shouldn’t be.
“Do you think,” he starts, staring blankly at his sad bowl of soup as Daehwi and Jinyoung gobble up the food on their tray, “that Woojin and I are very close?”
The two younger boys pause eating for a second to share a suggestive look. “The entire school and their mom knows you two are close,” Jinyoung says before he bites into his steamed bun.
Daehwi elbows Jinyoung on the rib and turns back to Jihoon. “Why do you ask?”
Jihoon sighs to himself and shakes his head to shove weird thoughts away. “Nothing. Just. Some dude in my class told me he thought we were in a relationship.”
Jinyoung swallows the steamed bun prematurely, prompting Daehwi to hand him his water bottle sympathetically. “You two have become somehow inseparable, yes,” Daehwi says as he rubs circles on Jinyoung’s back.
“Yeah,” Jihoon swallows this fact like it has thorns attached to it.
Maybe it’s because they’re always attached to the hip. Or because they somehow always seem to have their own world whenever they’re together. Woojin understands him, better than anyone else, and it might have gotten to the point where other people think they are together.
“But,” Jihoon stops and thinks carefully. “We’re only friends.”
Jinyoung squeezes the water bottle too hard that half of its contents squirt straight onto his face. “Are you kidding me.”
Jihoon blinks. “What.”
Daehwi chews on his lips, thinks patiently about what to say, but Jihoon just looks at him like he’s terrified, so Daehwi scratches his head and just sighs, “Sure, hyung. Friends. Whatever you say.”
Jihoon moves on.
Next time, he chooses to do paperwork at a coffee shop that is about the same distance from his and Woojin’s apartment. It’s less comfortable and slightly more distracting, but Jihoon can’t afford to slack off anymore and succumb to the temptation of his cozy sheets or Woojin’s comfy couch (and also risk ending up in the same sticky situation they had been a couple of weeks ago).
(Jihoon hasn’t really moved on, but he’s really trying.)
He accepts Woojin’s study date invitation without any second thoughts simply because it’s been a routine for them to do so. It’s really nothing new and they have been, in fact, doing it already for the longest time that it would be weirder if Jihoon turned him down. They work separately (but still together) on their respective mountain of requirements like what they’ve always been doing all this time.
“You look like you’re about to dive into your laptop anytime soon. A bit tense too.” Jihoon peels his eyes away from the screen of his laptop, leans back on his seat, and watches as Woojin stretches in front of him with a victorious smile.
“I just really want to get this report over with. I’m not even done with our History homework yet,” Jihoon sighs exasperatedly as he tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “If you’re finished, you can go home if you want to,” he offers. Woojin shrugs his shoulders and walks off, and Jihoon is left to bang his head on the table as the sluggish feeling takes over his mind and body.
Jihoon thinks he’s left to himself and starts to think about ordering another drink from the counter just so he’d stay awake and have a reason to stay in the coffee shop longer because he would probably there for a few more hours, but before he can grab his wallet from his bag, Woojin slides a cup of tea across the table and settles back in his seat in front of Jihoon.
Woojin cracks his knuckles and pries his laptop open. “Have some tea. I heard it would still keep you awake, but with less caffeine, which I don’t think you need more of. What can I help you with?”
Jihoon stops typing on his keys, looks briefly at the steaming cup of tea and then at Woojin, who is readily waiting for instructions on how he can assist Jihoon in working. Woojin stares at him, takes the initiative to peek at Jihoon’s to-do list himself and starts typing on his laptop.
“I’m done with History. Let me help you with that.”
Everything becomes easier.
Woojin tells Jihoon occasionally to take a sip at his tea, and then sends him random funny videos he finds on Facebook just to get Jihoon to laugh because you look like you’re fucking dead, dude. Jihoon insists that this is distracting him, setting him back on work and hindering him from finishing earlier, but if he’s going to be truthful to himself, he’d admit that he hasn’t had this much fun doing requirements in a while and that if he had a choice, he wouldn’t do it any other way.
By one-thirty in the morning, Woojin adds another count to his tally of “How Many Times Park Jihoon Asks Me to Leave Before He Understands That I’m Not Going Anywhere”, increasing the count total to eight. It’s all touching at first, because Jihoon really has no idea how he got lucky enough to have Woojin as a friend, but then there’s a slight pang in his chest; something that makes his heart beat faster when he discreetly glances at Woojin from behind his screen.
He’s always thought that Woojin was only a friend, and it scares him that it’s highly likely that he might want something more than that.
Jihoon pulls on the sleeves of his sweater to try and stretch it over his palms. The streets are empty and freezing at two-thirty in the morning, and Jihoon sticks close to Woojin’s side in an attempt to stay warm.
“I could fall asleep right here and right now,” Jihoon says through gritted teeth at he pulls his arms closer to his body.
Woojin looks over at him with worry. “You’d die. And I don’t really want to carry a whole, frozen, dead body, so please don’t die on me.”
“But it’s so fucking cold.” Jihoon’s teeth chatters when a gust of wind blows towards their direction, and he has to momentarily stop walking when the breeze prickles his skin.
“Here.” Jihoon feels the soft material being shoved against his side and he looks at Woojin, who has one less layer of clothing to warm him up.
Jihoon stares at the garment. “I don’t need it,” he bluffs, as if the purple tint of his lips isn’t a dead giveaway that he really does need the jacket. He hears Woojin grunt in frustration before the padded jacket is forced on his shoulders , and he doesn’t get a chance to shove the jacket back into Woojin’s hands when Woojin has hopped off of the sidewalk onto the empty road.
“How come you aren’t cold?” Jihoon grumbles under his breath.
“I am from Busan. We are not weak,” Woojin lowers his voice to try and make him seem tough, and Jihoon just rolls his eyes in annoyance.
He sneakily glances at Woojin sometimes, trying to figure out if Woojin really doesn’t feel cold or is just lying so he could lend Jihoon his jacket, and finds out that the cold weather really doesn’t bother Woojin that much. Then his mind wanders too far and he thinks about how he’s felt Woojin’s warmth against his skin before and how good it felt to fall asleep in his arms.
He almost runs into a post trying to shake those thoughts out of his head.
The walk seems to last longer than it usually does, probably because Woojin would try to secretly slip hotpacks into Jihoon’s pocket and they would have to chase each other because one of them has too much hotpacks in their hands and they just badly want to give or return it to the other. Jihoon clenches his mouth and bites his tongue; endures it because he knows they’re nearing the intersection where they should part ways to get to their own buildings.
When he turns right to his side of the town, Woojin hasn’t stopped following his steps. Jihoon pauses abruptly and faces Woojin. “Uh, what are you doing?”
Woojin skids to a stop. “Walking?”
“Your apartment is that way,” Jihoon says as he points into the opposite direction.
“I’m walking you home like I always do,” Woojin says.
“You don’t need to,” Jihoon answers back. He shrugs the jacket off of his shoulders and hands it back to Woojin. “Here’s your jacket. Go home. You’re probably sleepy and tired.”
“Put it back on. We’re still a good five blocks away, it’s almost three in the morning and it’s getting colder by the minute.” Woojin walks past Jihoon and leads the way to the latter’s house.
Jihoon steps forward and gets a grip on Woojin’s arm to stop him from walking. “I know. Which is why it’s stupid for you to take me home because your apartment is on the other side of town.”
“I’ll live,” Woojin shrugs as he slips away from Jihoon’s hold.
“Why are you so stubborn?” Jihoon groans out loud. This is his breaking point; the moment that tips the ice. “Why do you care so much?”
Woojin stops and spins on his heel to face Jihoon. He looks lost and confused about Jihoon’s sudden outburst. “I’m just trying to help you.”
“I told you that I didn’t want a relationship. Why are you acting like you’re my boyfriend when you’re not?”
Woojin’s mouth falls open, taken aback. “This isn’t about me liking you. I’m trying to get over you because that’s what you want,” he says, bewildered about Jihoon’s sudden accusation. “I’m helping you out as a friend, just like what I would do if I were to walk home with Daehwi and Jinyoung. Are you that repulsed by the thought of liking me?”
Which, really, is far from the truth. Woojin is who he should want and somehow actually wants. What Jihoon doesn’t like is the thought of having his heart crushed again and having this friendship end when it’s one of the best thing that has ever happened to him. He feels his heart constricting in his chest and the aching in his throat prevents him from saying anything.
“I’m sorry for overstepping my boundaries. I just really care for you a lot, you know that right?” Woojin says it with such a small voice that it’s almost inaudible, but it still rings clear in Jihoon’s ears. “I’ll give you space. I’m sorry.” Woojin stuffs his hand inside his pockets (which is now rid of any hotpacks, unbeknown to Jihoon) and walks the opposite direction to his own apartment complex.
Jihoon watches him walk away because he doesn’t know what to say or what to do. All he knew that he is still very much afraid to fall in love, so he walks home alone with four hotpacks in his pockets, a padded jacket that has Woojin’s scent lingering on its collar, and a heart made of ice.
Woojin doesn’t invite him over, doesn’t message him about homework, doesn’t even call to invite Jihoon out to play outside when the weather’s perfectly warm and cold at the same time. Woojin cancels their study date and doesn’t reply when Jihoon asks him out to coffee.
Jihoon knows he has definitely fucked up.
Not having Woojin around him as often as he lingered before creates a bit of uneasiness in his gut, as if everything would go absolutely wrong without Woojin. The absence of his presence makes it seem like there’s something important that Jihoon is missing; and what makes it a hundred times worse is that he knows what it is and where to find it, but can’t bring himself to just get over his emotions and fill the damn void.
Jihoon walks into class alone with a million things in his mind and a very confused heart.
“Lovers’ quarrel?” Sungwoon’s voice startles Jihoon from his trance. He looks at Woojin, who isn’t sitting at his usual seat beside Jihoon, but is in the very front of the room, looking like he’s actually listening to the lecture for the first time in the entire semester.
“We aren’t a couple,” Jihoon huffs out, not even having the strength to pay attention to the teasing smirk on Sungwoon’s face. “Probably will never be because of what I did.”
Sungwoon frowns. “I don’t really care. I just wanted to make fun of y–”
“Why did you think Woojin and I are together?” Jihoon asks. “We are not, by the way. I’m just really, really curious about what you think.”
Sungwoon looks like he regrets trying to butt in, but still goes into a rant. “You really want to know?” Sungwoon chuckles to himself. “Gosh, where do I start? You walk to class together, walk out of class together. You look so lost whenever Woojin doesn’t come to class, and whenever you’re the one who skips, he looks like he can’t wait to get out of here.” Jihoon looks like his head is going to explode, trying to keep himself from interrupting Sungwoon. “This is World History, but it’s like the two of you are in an entirely different class. You two keep taking pictures of each other. I’m sure you’d be able to find at least ten pictures of me in the background, you inconsiderate potato-heads.”
Someone shushes them from the back, so Sungwoon continues rambling in a whisper. “Woojin looks at you like he always wants to kiss you. And I would bet today’s lunch money that you feel the same.”
Jihoon flusters over his words and Sungwoon looks at him, completely unimpressed. “I. That’s not –”
“That’s my opinion and I know that you have your own. I think you need to go find out for yourself what you really want, and maybe figure out what he really feels as well.”
“Huh,” Jihoon says.
“For the record, Jihoon, nobody stresses out this much over a mistake if they really don’t like the person like that. You could have simply said he’s my friend and I would, admittedly, still have had my doubts, but if it isn’t that much of a big deal to you, I would have figured that maybe it is just me. It clearly isn’t.”
Jihoon is completely quiet. He’s scared that Sungwoon sounds like he’s making a lot of sense, and the anxious feeling inside of him grows and grows like it’s ready to swallow him whole.
“Maybe you should take some time to think about it. And stop bothering me in the middle of class,” Sungwoon purses his lips and shrugs his shoulders as he pulls himself back to the lecture, rudely leaving Jihoon with his mouth hanging open, and way too much confusing feelings in his heart.
Jihoon ends up walking out of the classroom without even asking for permission from the professor and decides to cut the remaining hour of his class because Sungwoon is right. He needs to think and he needs to think hard.
Dazed and deep inside his thoughts, Jihoon ends up at Daehwi and Jinyoung’s shared apartment just outside of campus with Daehwi opening the door for him and clinging onto his arm like an emotional-support puppy.
They settle down on the couch, with the two younger boys sandwiching Jihoon in the middle.
“We have leftover pizza and a gigantic tub of ice cream,” Jinyoung says, somewhat encouragingly. “Give us your best shot, hyung.”
“Thanks,” Jihoon smiles weakly. Confusedly. Because all he has done while he wandered all around campus was think, and he really needs someone else to do it for him.
Jinyoung and Daehwi patiently wait for Jihoon to start.
“I think I love Woojin.”
Jihoon expects a grander reaction from both of them, but only gets a pointed look from both sides that lowkey screams We Been Knew.
“I think I hurt him,” he continues.
Daehwi hums. “Woojin hyung is nice.”
Jihoon sighs exasperatedly. “He’s more than nice, but I can’t just jump into this. I didn’t want anything romantic.”
“Didn’t,” Jinyoung points out quietly.
“It isn’t easy,” Jihoon whines. It hasn’t been easy for him for so long. “You know, I’ve been with people who were nice too, and it didn’t end well. It just doesn’t work for me. It never does. I don’t want to get hurt.”
“Do you think Woojin hyung would hurt you?” Daehwi asks. “Because I don’t think he would. Not intentionally, at least, and even if he did, he’d never stop being apologetic about it.”
Jihoon thinks about it, realizes that he has hurt Woojin far more times than Woojin probably will ever hurt him, even if he hadn’t meant it. He deflates against the couch and pouts. “What am I supposed to do.”
“Think about it this and see if anyone comes into mind. It’s perfectly fine if no one does too.” Daehwi scoots closer and rubs comforting circles on Jihoon’s arm. “Hyung, who’s the one person who wouldn’t dare hurt you? The one who’s always been there, even if you hadn’t asked him to. The one who would choose you first over anything and anyone, and even over himself.” Daehwi glances at Jinyoung, who smiles knowingly at him. “Who would you go an extra mile for and who would do the same and more for you?”
“Does anyone come into mind?” Jinyoung inquires warily.
Jihoon sinks deeper into the couch, somehow feeling pleased after the ten seconds of internal panic comes and goes.
“Yeah,” he says, like it’s the first sure thing he’s ever said in a long, long time.
Jihoon tells Woojin that he wants to meet up tonight. It could be to get dinner, to study or to just grab some coffee. He doesn’t really care for what purpose as long as they see each other. He waits for a reply only to get rejected by a pretty short and concise answer: Not tonight. Sorry. But because Jihoon has never been the most obedient kid ever, he says “fuck it” and runs to Woojin’s flat anyway.
After fifteen minutes of ringing the doorbell, Jihoon realizes that his impulsive decision to run to Woojin’s flat is slightly idiotic and thoughtless, which is only further confirmed when Woojin catches him standing dumbly outside his front door as if it would magically open if he kept staring at it.
“What are you doing here?” Woojin looks at his still locked door and then at Jihoon.
“I was wondering if we could study together tonight. Please?”
Woojin avoids Jihoon’s eyes as he presses in the code to his apartment. “I already told you that I’m busy. I really don’t have time for this right now.”
Jihoon extends his arm and holds the doorway to block Woojin from getting in. “We can be busy together,” he insists.
Woojin huffs, looks up at ceiling in frustration, and drags his eyes down to Jihoon, who squirms under his scrutinizing gaze. “We’ll talk inside,” he nods over to the door, motioning for Jihoon to step inside his apartment and locking the door behind them. He scans Jihoon’s figure, awkwardly standing by the door and scoffs. “You don’t even have a bag with you – no books, no laptop – unless you want to study metals with me? But I don’t think that’s going to help you get a medical degree.”
Jihoon gulps thickly as Woojin sets his backpack down on the floor. “I just really need to talk to you,” he says shakily.
“About what?”
“About that night in your bedroom.”
The corner of Woojin’s lips twitches unintentionally. “That’s. That’s something we’ve mutually agreed to never speak of again, right? You told me that you wanted to forget about it.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry. Let me explain myself,” Jihoon begs, even though he knows that he doesn’t deserve Woojin’s patience and attention. “What I did was completely unfair and you deserve none of the shitty treatment I’ve given you. That night happened because I wanted it to. I just didn’t have the strength to face the consequences and implications it would bring the next morning.”
Woojin continues to listen to him, and Jihoon has to force himself to look away from his lips.
“I’m a huge mess and I have no idea how you manage to keep up with me because even I’m tired of myself. You’re too good for this world; for me, much more. And I don’t know how to act because I haven’t felt like this in a long, long time and I’m terrified because I’ve fallen in love with you and I’m just really, really scared.”
The silence rings awfully loud in Jihoon’s ears, and he waits for Woojin to say something and anything that would calm Jihoon’s heart from beating too wildly.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” is the first thing that comes out of Woojin’s mouth.
Jihoon feels like his knees could give out very soon.
“That’s the last thing that I want to do. And I understand that it’s difficult for you to believe that I won’t break your heart, but I’m asking you to trust me and to give us a try,” Woojin tells him this as if he’s begging as well because Jihoon always unintentionally looks at him like he’s full of doubt and uncertainty. “I always figured that you needed to be the one to sort it all out first because I knew you would run away if I made the first move. Which you did.” Woojin steps forward, which makes Jihoon step back until he’s against the wall, and gasps in surprise when Woojin grabs his wrist and pulls him forward into a hug.
Jihoon buries his face in Woojin’s neck and becomes slack in the tight hold around his torso. “I love you,” Woojin’s voice comes out as muffled, so he loosens his grip and pulls back slightly to repeat himself. “I love you.”
Jihoon, who’s had his eyes on Woojin’s lips for what seems like the longest time, leans forward to close the gap with a kiss. It’s too quick and brief, that Woojin goes for a second one not even a second later, much more steady and sure, with his hands sliding down to Jihoon’s waist and pulling him closer. They both feel the most at ease that night when Jihoon sighs and smiles into the third, and fourth, and fifth, and so on because Jihoon trusts Woojin enough to believe that he would never let Jihoon fall.
“If I fail my exam, it’s going to be all your fault,” Woojin whispers against Jihoon’s lips. They’re lying on their sides on his bed, in the same position they were in the first time this happened. It’s not a spur of the moment; is definitely not just his imagination.
Jihoon pulls away with a laugh and quickly presses a kiss on Woojin’s cheek. “Get a perfect score and I’ll give you a kiss.”
Woojin hums contentedly, extending his free arm and looping it around Jihoon’s waist to pull him closer. “Maybe later. Let’s sleep for like five minutes.”
“You’re gonna regret saying that when we wake up thirty minutes before your exam tomorrow,” Jihoon says, though he isn’t really trying to get away from Woojin’s grasp.
“No,” Woojin mumbles on Jihoon’s neck. “I won’t ever regret this.”