Chapter Text
Minghao was sad, and that made Jun sad too, especially because he couldn’t figure out why Minghao was sad. He knew the younger boy had aced his midterms, and dance practice had been going great recently – Soonyoung had finally approved a lot of Hao’s choreography, which made everyone happy. So it couldn’t have been school or dance. What was it, then?
Since their college was so small, everyone was aware of Jun’s massive crush on Minghao. Except Jun himself didn’t like to call it a crush, because that made it sound sad and defeatist, and who needs the constraints of language anyway? Jun felt no need to confess anything to Minghao. Minghao, who let Jun hold his hand when he was nervous before dance performances, who nagged at him to eat slowly and to wear more layers, and who always wished him happy birthday before anyone else every year. That was enough for Jun.
Jun, Jun said to his reflection in the mirror in the morning, you need to find out why Minghao has been so sad for the past three days. It was his responsibility, after all, as an upperclassman and Minghao’s closest friend on campus. He would start be asking all of their mutual friends, he decided as he carefully adjusted his hair. Maybe Jeonghan would be a good start – he was Minghao’s English tutor, after all, and conveniently such a gossip –
“Wen Junhui, it’s been fifty minutes, goddammit!” bellowed Soonyoung from outside the bathroom. Jun sighed, looking at his reflection. Such perfection demanded proper time and attention, something Soonyoung certainly knew nothing about.
Jun slid into the seat next to Jeonghan at their 10:10 AM Advanced Spanish Literature discussion. Jeonghan always sat in the back, but on the far right next to the windows, opposite of Jun’s preference for the far left, where the wall tiling left a mirror-like reflective surface. Jun appreciated the idea of Jeonghan a lot: Jeonghan was also very good-looking, even though he was more of a pretty type while Jun himself, surely, was both the pretty and the handsome type. They had never been close, but Jun didn’t remember why.
“Hey, Jeonghan,” he started before seeing that Jeonghan was… asleep? “Hey, Jeonghan?”
The long-haired boy didn’t open his eyes, but Jun knew immediately he was bluffing. No one sleeps so soundly with so much background noise. Class hadn’t started yet, but Jun only had a few minutes to get some answers. “Jeonghan, I need to ask you something. I know you’re not sleeping.”
Finally deigning to open his eyes, Jeonghan sat up slowly. “What do you want,” he sighed.
Jun bit his lip nervously; he hadn’t actually planned what he was going to say, although he had envisioned a preposterous conjuring of answers that Jeonghan could provide him. Minghao didn’t talk about his personal affairs or home life in China with anyone except Jeonghan, and that was only because it was good English practice. Maybe, if there were something wrong at home, Jun could surely help – he had many friends and family in China too, so he could definitely be someone for Minghao to relate to. “Jeonghan, I know Minghao talks to you a lot – “
He was cut off with a warm, charming – and somehow, disingenuous – smile. “That’s obvious, seeing as I’m his language tutor.”
“Right,” Jun pressed on. “Obviously. But I wanted to talk to you because I feel like he’s been kind of different lately? He seems sad to me, or I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Jun paused for breath, trying not to ramble. “So I wanted to know if he might have told you why, you know, since you guys talk so much.”
“Jun.” The older boy shook his head gently, the smile never leaving his lips or reaching his eyes. “I actually thought you were one of the smarter ones. Of course I’m aware of how Minghao is feeling, but as for why, do you really think that it’s your place to ask?” He stared at Jun, eyes wide with feigned innocence.
Suddenly, Jun remembered why he and Jeonghan had never been friends. Jeonghan was the type of student who claimed that he never studied but always received the top test scores in class. Except that Jun knew that he actually never did study, truly able to breeze through his academics on brilliance alone. Two years ago, Jeonghan had placed into the Phi Beta Kappa honor society as a sophomore, breaking national records to the envy and chagrin of fellow students. Genius or not, however, his condescension was unwelcome. “I just wanted to know if he might have told you anything –“
“It’s like how they say, if you have to ask, you’ll never know,” Jeonghan continued icily. “Figure it out, Junhui. Class is starting,” he nodded towards the front of the classroom, where the professor had begun setting up.
Offended, Jun stood up and moved across the room to his usual spot. He seethed through the 90-minute discussion. What the fuck was that about?
“He was such a dick. Like ‘Oh, Junhui, if you have to ask, you’ll never know.'” Jun shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth angrily. “He thinks he’s so fucking smart and I mean, he is, but how does that give him the right to –“ He took a break to gulp down water. “To talk like that to anyone?” Jun slammed his glass on the table loudly, ignoring Chan’s wincing.
Jihoon waited for him to finish chewing. Jun was perennially good-natured, but as soon as they had seen him approaching with a plate piled high with a mountain of indeterminate foods, everyone could tell – they were in for a hurricane. Wonwoo sat as far back in his chair as possible, hoping to avoid getting hit by any food sent accidentally flying as Jun sputtered bits of cauliflower in his fury. Chan stared in disapproval, Jieqiong anxiously holding his hand as if she were afraid that he would snap and make things worse.
“All I asked was, ‘Oh hey, Minghao has been really sad lately. Do you know why?’ And he sees Minghao, I don’t know, every other day, so I figured he would know. Someone who really cares about Minghao would want to help his friends help him feel better, right?”
“Maybe Minghao shared something with him that he isn’t comfortable telling you about,” Chan suggested. He sighed, exasperated.
“And why,” Junhui snapped, “Can he not just say that to me? ‘I’m Jeonghan, I’m so goddamm smart, Minghao and I have so many secrets – “
“We don’t know, or else we’d tell you,” Jihoon replied, his voice beginning to escalate. Chan looked nervously at Jieqiong, who smiled reassuringly. He hated when the upperclassmen fought.
Jun stopped eating. “You agree, right?” He pointed a fishstick at Chan. “Minghao’s different lately in practice. Like he’s not into it even though Soonyoung’s finally taking his direction for once. He’s been quiet for the last few days.”
Chan hesitated. “I mean, yeah, he’s a little quiet, but I had dinner with him last week and things were fine. So if anything happened, it must be pretty recent.” He nodded weakly, as if trying to support his own sentence.
“Maybe Jeonghan did or said something that made Minghao sad,” Jun mused. That definitely had to be it. Jeonghan would naturally refuse to talk to Jun about how to cheer up Minghao if he were the reason for the younger boy’s sudden mood change. Jun felt his anger bubble afresh. He chewed his fried chicken vigorously.
“Jeonghan would never.” Wonwoo’s voice was low and quiet. Everyone stared at him. “Jeonghan is particular, but he’s really protective of Minghao. You know, all that mentor-mentee bullshit. If anyone hurt Minghao, Jeonghan would ruin them in heartbeat.”
“Like I wouldn’t –“ Jun began, but Jihoon waved at him to listen.
“I know him. We roomed together last year. Come to think of it,” Wonwoo said pointedly, “If Jeonghan was so rude to you, did you do anything to upset Minghao lately?”
“Me?!” Jun all but shrieked. He ignored Dino and Jieqiong as they stood up and quickly left, clearly deciding that the situation was out of their control.
Jihoon shrugged. “You never know. I can talk to Jeonghan in acapella rehearsal later, but have you thought about maybe talking to Minghao himself?”
“Obviously I have talked to Minghao himself,” Jun returned. “And he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. So clearly it’s something serious.”
“We’re not saying it’s not,” Jihoon said, stern. “But before you run your mouth about Jeonghan, maybe get a few more perspectives at least.”
“Me, run my –“ Jun started, indignant.
“This assholery isn’t like you at all.” Wonwoo shook his head disapprovingly.
“Well, sorry I care about my friends –“
“We all care about our friends, but I’m just saying –“
Jun stood up. “I’m going to talk to Soonyoung,” he announced, picking up his bookbag. “Maybe he will have something a little more helpful to say.” He pushed his chair in, a little loudly for effect, and walked away. Wonwoo and Jihoon insinuating, or even proposing, that he himself did something to affect Minghao so negatively – Rude, he thought. And impossible. If Minghao needed it, Jun would move mountains and part oceans in a heartbeat. Wasn’t he always the one Minghao cried to past midnight when the younger boy missed home his freshman year, or the one who surprised Minghao with rice noodles and three cup chicken on Chinese holidays?
“Yo, at least take your fuckin’ plate, Junhui,” Jihoon called after him.
“They have mint chocolate chip ice cream today,” Wonwoo offered. His voice carried the slightest touch of an apology.
Junhui ignored them. He had more important things on his mind than dessert.
No one came to open the door, but Jun could hear his suitemate inside. He could hear shuffling fabric, Soonyoung muttering unintelligibly to himself on the other side of the door.
Jun knocked again. “I know you’re in there,” he called, irritated. “I can hear you.”
More shuffling and frenzied footsteps. Jun heard the click of the lock, and then the door opened just the tiniest sliver, barely large enough to fit Soonyoung’s face, flushed and furious. “What,” he grunted, “Do you want.”
Jun ignored the glare. “I need – Soonyoung – why aren’t you wearing clothes?”
“I’m busy,” Soonyoung muttered. Shirtless, with his bottom half wrapped in a towel, he pushed his hair back. “Make it super fast.”
Curiosity took over, and Jun decided that Minghao could wait a few seconds. “And why is your hair so sweaty? And –“ he sniffed carefully, frowning. “Why does your room smell like you’ve been working out?”
Soonyoung shifted uncomfortably. As he did, he unintentionally bumped the door open a few more centimeters. Jun could see the figure of a thin girl with long red-brown hair sitting in Hoshi’s bed. Her pale arms and shoulders, bare and glistening with sweat, peeked out from under the covers.
“Hey, Jun,” chirped Yuju. She waved at him, smiling, careful to keep Soonyoung’s comforter tightly wrapped around her chest. “How’s it going?”
Jun swallowed nervously. Turning red, Soonyoung scowled. “Like I said, I’m really busy. Make it fast or wait till later.”
“So busy,” Jun rolled his eyes. Remembering the task at hand, he ignored the situation in front of him. “I just want to ask you – have you talked to Minghao lately? You have to have noticed how he’s been different this week. Do you know if he’s okay?”
Soonyoung’s eyes softened, and he opened and closed his mouth several times before speaking. “Minghao,” he said carefully, “Minghao has been a bit different, you’re right. I’m not surprised you noticed, since I know you care about him so much. I definitely didn’t think Minghao would take what you did so personally.”
It took a few seconds for Jun to internalize what Soonyoung had suggested. “Wait – what did I do?” he balked. “Did I do something? Did Minghao tell you that I did something?” Soonyoung motioned for him to keep his voice down, but Jun didn’t notice that he was almost yelling.
“Wait,” Soonyoung looked down, the corners of his mouth twitching. He looked like he was deciding whether to laugh at Jun or to hit him. “You don’t know what – why Minghao is – being – ?”
“No, I don’t,” Jun retorted hotly. “What did I do? Why is everyone saying that I –“
“He doesn’t know?” a brazen male voice shouted from inside Soonyoung’s room. Jun looked at Yuju, who was scrolling on her phone silently, uninterested in his sudden quarter-life crisis.
“How do you not know?” Seokmin repeated as he popped his head out from under the bed where he had been hiding. Soonyoung, face now puce, turned around and hissed at him to stay quiet. Jun thought he would pass out from sensory overload, from the combination of Seokmin materializing behind Soonyoung in a similar state of undress, to this sudden accusation that his friends were making against him – did Jeonghan and Wonwoo and Jihoon and even Chan all know about whatever it was that Jun did that he himself wasn’t even aware of? Did Minghao tell them and – not tell him?
“You really don’t know,” Soonyoung murmured, a look of horrified wonder on his face.
“How – “
“I’m sorry, Junhui.” Soonyoung said kindly, eyes regretful. “I thought you knew. I thought it was… kind of obvious? But I don’t think it’s my place to say.” He started to close the door.
“Wait –“ Jun grabbed the doorknob, holding the door open, pleading. “Please tell me. Minghao’s upset because of me? What did I do? I can fix it right away. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s just not my place. Maybe think about it a bit,” Soonyoung said with finality. “Believe you me, we all want to see both you and Minghao happy.” He paused, his expression indecipherable. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m preoccupied.” He smiled apologetically at Jun and closed the door.
Mouth agape, Jun stood unmovingly in front of Soonyoung’s door long after the rhythmic sounds of heavy breathing and the creaking bedframe began again. He ignored them. His mouth was dry, stomach churning violently from both realization and the peristalsis of his half-digested meal from earlier. He ran for the kitchen sink, eyes suddenly wet.