Work Text:
+ sunday, 2:20pm
+ just stay right there / just like that
it’s honestly sickening.
jihoon can’t help but be hyper-aware of the unpleasant dampness coating his palms, accompanying the tightness in his chest and the copious amounts of blood swirling hot to his cheeks like his heart had decided that circulation just wasn’t necessary in other parts of his body. maybe this was a good thing, maybe this was a sign that he was due to shrivel up and die soon from a lack of oxygenation. that’s how science worked, right?
the kicker was that he knew exactly what was triggering his discomfort--and what was hopefully his sudden and imminent death. the culprit came in the shape and form of a tall, gangly boy who answers to moon junhui and was currently out cold with his face planted in a precalculus textbook, oblivious to the fact that he was responsible for the downward trajectory of jihoon’s bodily activities into utter dysfunction.
this wouldn’t have happened if junhui wasn’t stupidly touchy with just about everyone. jihoon belatedly realized he wasn’t spared from this needless custom of physical contact when junhui walked through the stupid cafe door with his stupidly floppy hair and his stupidly bright eyes and his stupidly wide grin and draped his stupidly long arms over jihoon’s shoulders, murmuring a low “i missed you” right next to his ear in his stupidly low voice (which jihoon, at the back of his mind, thought was an iota more stupidly attractive than junhui’s usual speaking register). jihoon would have shrugged him off and maybe smacked him for good measure, as he was wont to do with his other touchy-feely friends (why did he seem to have so many of those?), but strangely, his body wouldn’t give in to his usual instinct and instead remained stationary until junhui proceeded to flip open his textbook, very deliberately press his forehead into the page, and go to sleep, which was how they ended up here--junhui: comatose, and jihoon: dead (or at least, he hoped he would be soon).
maybe it was so jarring because it was something out of the ordinary for junhui and jihoon specifically, jihoon attempted to reason. maybe junhui had spontaneously decided that the weekend before the first day of the semester more or less a year after they’d started taking notice of each other’s existences was just that point in their friendship where it was acceptable to expose junhui’s velcro-like clinging tendencies.
could it even be called a friendship? the sole point they even started talking to each other was because jihoon’s hanja grades were going from passable to dismal--and it just so happened that junhui’s korean grades were taking a similar trip downhill. korean was impossible to fail (unless you were foreign, jihoon amended) and junhui was--well, chinese, so that took care of that. they’d started spending recess and lunch breaks in the library walking each other through the lines of exercises on their workbooks. soon, jihoon found out junhui wasn’t totally useless at social studies and junhui found out jihoon wasn’t totally useless at math, so those subjects became part of their impromptu tutoring curriculum as well. they’d spend self-study period together too, sometimes branching out to other things they needed to review for the ksat. sometimes they’d see each other on weekends if there was a test coming up or, in this case, if junhui was just bored and looking for someone to bother.
jihoon studied what he could see of junhui’s face (which wasn’t much, considering his big, dumb nose was smushed against the page of his textbook) and pressed his lips together in thought. yeah, maybe they were friends. he supposes.
jihoon delivered a swift punch to junhui’s shoulder, effectively jolting him awake and rendering him slightly disconcerted, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and looking around as if he’d forgotten where he was. “hey,” jihoon barks. he’s glad he’s coming across as somewhat normal in spite of his earlier shutdown. “it’s one in the afternoon. how can you sleep like this in public?”
“internet cafe. wonwoo. last night,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “i lost track of time.”
“typical.”
“don’t be mean,” junhui wails. “come on, when’s the next time i can screw around like this once school starts?”
“honestly, you’re better off just resigning yourself to the fact that we’re gonna be working our asses off until we graduate from high school,” jihoon says. “until we graduate from university. until we retire from whatever thankless minimum-wage job we manage to get. basically until we die. distance yourself from happiness so it doesn’t feel like that much of a loss when real life beats the shit out of us.”
junhui stares at him for a solid thirty seconds. “jesus,” he breathes. jihoon shrugs slightly. if junhui didn’t know jihoon was a bitter cynic before, he sure as hell did now. “what crawled up your ass and died.”
“it’s called being realistic.”
“you know no one can live like that.”
jihoon is ready with his answering “watch me” but it dies on his tongue when he feels the weight of junhui’s head press gently against his shoulder, effectively closing the conversation without further discussion.
he wants to shrug junhui off and give him one of his scathing glares, but for some reason, he honestly, truly cannot bring himself to. his brain goes into overdrive again much like it did earlier--suddenly, it seems like not even breathing is an option.
it’s strange, jihoon thinks. strange how paralyzed he is. lee jihoon, who always knows where to go and what to do and how to act, rendered motionless, without so much as a clue to how.
it’s sickening.
---
+ saturday, 4:37pm
“jihoon, what do you think?” jeonghan prompts, holding two small plastic boxes in either hand. “which one?”
upon further inspection, jihoon realizes jeonghan is asking his opinion on two pairs of earphones he’d chosen from the daiso they were in--one set that was just plain black, and another adorned with small bear decorations on the earbuds.
jihoon eyes them distastefully. “i think you’re better off going up to apgujeong for some earphones that are actually good.”
jeonghan lowered the plastic boxes, raising one of his sculpted eyebrows. “do you think i’d be in daiso if i had that kind of money?”
“quality audio is an investment.” jihoon shrugs. “i’m just saying.”
“well, you were definitely the wrong person to ask.” jeonghan says it lightly, not really one to mince words. “the black ones are only 4000 won, but--aren’t these bear ones just the cutest?”
“you should get them.”
“they’re like, a full 2000 won more.”
“i’ll cover the 2000 won.”
“jihoon,” jeonghan coos, his disarmingly affectionate eyes sparkling. “would you really?”
“yeah, yeah, don’t push it, hyung.”
once upon a time, jihoon might have been thrilled to be able to hang out with the yoon jeonghan. he was charming, he was pretty, and he was good at sports--it was no surprise he was something of a heartthrob in their school. like a rite of passage, strange and embarrassing (as most of them are), almost everyone had a crush on jeonghan-sunbae at one point or another. jihoon really, desperately did try not to involve himself with pointless things like developing crushes in general--let alone on unattainable individuals, but he made the mistake of getting caught point-blank in jeonghan’s line of fire with the upperclassman’s flirting abilities in full throttle. loath as jihoon was to admit that he understood what everyone’s deal was obsessing over yoon jeonghan, he couldn’t help but be a tiny bit pleased during the times when jeonghan would single him out for attention.
but that time of jihoon’s life was over. jeonghan was a fleeting sort of wonder, a little like lightning--not really meant to dazzle for much longer than a moment. jihoon was fine with it, really. jeonghan was just one of those daydreams that were fun to hold in his mind’s eye, fun to turn around and fiddle with like a rubik’s cube in the hands of someone who didn’t quite get the hang of solving it yet. even if god granted him the good fortune of having jeonghan be interested in him, jihoon couldn’t really picture them together and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. jeonghan was pretty easy to let go. for that, jihoon was thankful.
“don’t you want to get anything?” jeonghan asks as they traverse the aisles to get to the cashier. “it’s my birthday soon.”
“hyung, i literally am going to pay for a third of your shitty earphones right now.”
jeonghan chuckles, his eyes twinkling mischievously. they do that a lot. quite a worrisome amount, in fact. “you’re just so fun to mess with, jihoonie.”
jihoon feels jeonghan’s fingers come up to brush through the hair at the back of his head. before his eyes can roll exasperatedly, they catch sight of a very tall, very gangly, very junhui-shaped figure looming up ahead a few aisles down. it barely registers that it is indeed junhui engrossed in scanning a shelf of cheap iphone cases, but already jihoon feels an uncomfortable thump against the inside of his ribcage like his heart is trying to single-handedly rip its way free of his thoracic cavity and effectively end his life. how did this just keep happening? how did his body just keep pretending to let him die but seem to be incapable of committing itself to the sweet release of unconsciousness?
it takes jihoon even more time to register that he’s stumbled backward a few steps, only alerted to this fact thanks to jeonghan’s palm pressed against the small of his back.
“jihoon?” comes jeonghan’s voice, echoing slightly against the walls of jihoon’s skull. “jihoon, are you okay?”
“l-let’s just--let’s just pass this way, please,” jihoon stutters, grabbing hold of jeonghan’s wrist to do an about-face and make themselves scarce.
“but the cashiers are just down this aisle.”
“i--i need some nail clippers.”
jeonghan finally decides to humor him and stops tugging against jihoon’s grip. “are you sure you’re okay?” he asks once they find themselves in a part of the store filled with tupperware containers.
“fantastic,” jihoon spits through gritted teeth.
“don’t get snippy with me, lee jihoon.” jeonghan wiggles his wrist away from jihoon’s fingers so he can catch jihoon by the elbow and stop him in his tracks. he gets right up in jihoon’s face, squinting like maybe if he tries hard enough he’ll be able to see into jihoon’s mind. “you’re sweating bullets” is what he manages to come up with, using the back of his forefinger to dab at at jihoon’s upper lip where, sure enough, jihoon can feel moisture gathering unpleasantly.
jihoon backs away a step, hastily swiping the back of his hand under his nose. he storms ahead childlishly, knowing full well that physically distancing himself from jeonghan wasn’t going to delay having to deal with his own issues by any means.
jeonghan easily keeps pace with him anyway. jihoon can feel jeonghan’s eyes boring into his brain and he can tell jeonghan is doing his thing where he just wills what he wants out of people somehow. jihoon silently curses the day jeonghan found out he was particularly hard for anyone to deny.
“there’s--” jihoon sighs. “there’s no easy answer, alright? there’s nothing for me to explain because i myself have no idea what the fuck is going on with me. i just know that i don’t like it.”
jeonghan is quiet for a bit. jihoon sees him nod from the corner of his eye like he’s trying to assess the situation. they find the row of cashiers again and jihoon makes a beeline for one so they can get the hell out of there, stat. jeonghan follows and places his purchase on the counter for the cashier to ring up like he’s in a daze, obviously unable to let jihoon’s admittedly weird behavior slide so quickly.
“when you figure it out,” he says, “i’ll still be here. y’know?”
“yeah” is all jihoon can think of to reply. “thanks.”
when they exit the store, jeonghan stops in his tracks like he’s forgotten something vital. “oh no, jihoon,” he wails. “what about your nail clippers?”
---
+ wednesday, 11:49pm
+ space filled with you and me / night full of trembling lights
needless to say, bus rides have started to feel very different, in a very terrible way.
after self-study ends late into the night, jihoon takes the city bus home. it’s usually pretty therapeutic; he’s learned to savor those pockets of time where he’s allowed to consciously stop using his brain for brief moments--he quickly found that for the average high school student, those moments were limited to the confines of moving vehicles or the shower. at least on public transport he could plug in some earphones and spare himself the nausea of having his thoughts attempt to rocket toward fifty different directions at the same time. the bus was somewhere where it was easy to just...be.
junhui just happens to live a block down from jihoon. of course. so of course he has to get on the same bus as jihoon after self-study, every night, five nights a week. that definitely threw a wrench in the whole “therapeutic” thing.
it’s not that junhui is annoying to ride the bus with, not in the slightest. usually he sticks to listening to his own music; other times he opts to stare out the window pensively instead (jihoon’s noticed this happens on nights junhui is particularly burned out). he’ll point out things he finds interesting, like a passing billboard, or nudge some candy into jihoon’s hand (even if jihoon never asks for any). he’s not the type to be hard-pressed to fill every waking moment with chatter and sometimes jihoon thinks he doesn’t cut junhui enough slack for being one of his more bearable friends. jihoon briefly imagines having soonyoung beside him and nearly suffers a self-inflicted migraine just picturing how much energy it would take to deal with him and his inane antics.
as far as most people are concerned, junhui is okay. he really is.
which infuriates jihoon because now it was becoming even more glaringly obvious that there was something wrong with him, not junhui. junhui hadn’t changed at all--jihoon just wasn’t interested in being held accountable for his own stupidity. people so rarely are.
jihoon blinks and it startles him that he’s caught himself staring at junhui again. junhui has his chin resting on his palm and its curled fingers, his arm braced against the small ledge running beneath the bus window, out of which he gazes. his profile is framed by the flashing blurs of light they speed past, glowing warm yellow and garish neon, softened as they reflect off junhui’s skin.
jihoon feels his heart thud insistently against his sternum. god, how long had he been looking? he should be looking somewhere else now, shouldn’t he? why couldn’t he seem to tear his eyes away from him? since when did junhui become someone so hard to look away from?
jihoon was never one to voluntarily take pictures or videos of anything, but all he could think about was how junhui in that moment very much looked like he belonged in a film, and jihoon itched to somehow make it happen, to be able to capture junhui just like this, to be able to replay how the city lights shone across his eyes again and again, because there was something about it that made jihoon feel like everything was going to be alright, like everything was where it should be, because it was just so beautif--
junhui catches jihoon’s eye and turns his head to face him. his parted lips settle into a sweet smile--sheepish, like he’s done something wrong. jihoon holds his breath.
he reaches to gently tug one of jihoon’s earphones out. “do i have something on my face?” he asks half-jokingly.
no, says jihoon’s mind. no, you’re perfec-- “i was just looking outside the window,” he says curtly. his eyes lower to the earbud between junhui’s fingers. “you know i hate it when people do that.”
“i know and i’m sorry. i wanted to make sure you could hear me.”
jihoon sighs. “fair enough.”
“let me listen, yeah? i left my earphones at home.”
“sucks to be you.” jihoon snatches the earbud back, quickly replacing it with the other one from his other ear before junhui can react like a kicked puppy (because he would, of course he would). “take the left one so we don’t have a hard time with the wires.”
junhui does, with a satisfied grin. “got anything new?”
“not really.” jihoon leans his head back against the seat. “just the same old, same old.”
---
+ thursday, 12:51pm
+ if you knew who i wanted / what kind of face would you make?
“over already?” jeonghan took a seat next to jihoon on the concrete steps leading down to the quadrangle.
“there are like, ten minutes left to the bell so the others decided to cut it short and leave the game at four innings,” jihoon says. “how was your match?”
“won six-five,” jeonghan replies with a smug little grin.
“cool.” jihoon’s not sure if it’s somewhat offensive that jeonghan being good at football has always come as surprising to him. it’s equally baffling how he never has a hair out of place or seems to sweat at all no matter how long he’s been running around a field under the sun.
impromptu baseball or football or basketball or badminton matches at lunch were pretty common occurrences in their school. just ways they could blow off some steam throughout the semester so they wouldn’t lose their minds in the process of attaining an education. jeonghan was a popular candidate whenever the football enthusiasts would be looking for more players, while jihoon was comfortable with baseball more than anything, typically serving as catcher for the second-years. it was definitely something jihoon enjoyed and probably one of the few things he would miss when he finally leaves high school.
“what’s your next class anyway?”
“biology.”
“yikes.” jeonghan cringes. “sorry i can’t be of any help there.”
“no worries. it’s not like i’m aiming for anything above a c--”
jeonghan’s attention seems to be diverted somewhere above his shoulder at the exact moment jihoon feels a light thunk of what he thinks is a glass something against the top of his head. he looks up and is greeted by none other than moon junhui standing a step above where he’s sitting, holding out a bottle of orange juice to jihoon.
on cue, jihoon’s heart gives another thud that resounds almost painfully from his ribcage all the way to his skull.
junhui’s lips curve into one of his small, sweet smiles that touch his eyes and make them crinkle a bit at the corners. (he has better smiles, jihoon finds himself thinking. but this one is already really...something.)
junhui lowers the bottle carefully into jihoon’s hands. “bell’s gonna ring soon, jihoon.” he says this as he starts walking backward towards the main building for a few steps before turning and doing a little jog the rest of the way. “i’ll see you inside,” he calls over his shoulder.
it’s only when he hears jeonghan hum knowingly that jihoon realizes he’s been staring after junhui with his mouth open, prompting him to shut it immediately and get up to dust off his trackpants and head to class like nothing’s happened. (and nothing did happen, he thinks furiously.)
jeonghan, unfortunately, keeps pace with him.
“so,” jeonghan starts.
“don’t start.”
“moon junhui, the transfer student--”
“don’t.”
“really didn’t think he was your type at all, but now that i think about it--”
“i said don’t--!” rage bubbles up inside jihoon unpleasantly, making him swing his fists out in a fit of anger.
jeonghan swiftly catches his wrists, causing jihoon to lose his grip on his orange juice bottle. jihoon didn’t think things ever happened in slow motion, but here they were, the glass taking forever to shatter on the pavement, spilt liquid soaking into the asphalt cracks frame by frame.
“oh, jihoon,” jeonghan finally says, barely a whisper. “i’m so sorry.”
“i have to go to class.” his voice sounds far away to him.
the ringing bell pounds against jihoon’s eardrums like a jackhammer.
---
+ friday, 12:06am
it’s like jihoon only regains consciousness outside the bus stop near his house, resuscitated by the insistent poking at his arm.
“jihoon?”
“hm?”
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing’s wrong.”
it’s a bit like earlier, like jihoon’s body is on autopilot. at least, his words seem to come out like clockwork now, but for some reason his feet are glued to the pavement. like when your eyes get too comfy staring unfocused into nothingness and it takes an inordinate amount of effort to even try and get reality unblurred.
“jihoon, it’s late.”
a beat.
“yeah.”
jihoon thought that maybe he could stay here all night. what was wrong with that? it was pretty convenient too, he reasoned. if he just stood here, he’d be ready for school the next day. wouldn’t have to worry about missing the bus, because--well, he’d be here waiting for it. maybe he could just take the next bus to his school’s district and just go to class already, wait for it to start. that seemed like a reasonable--
jihoon was set on this plan (he really was) until junhui slipped his hand into jihoon’s. and of course, junhui, who never really did anything by halves, went ahead and interlocked their respective sets of fingers together.
jihoon feels warm again, but not uncomfortably so. it’s less like dying and more like--
“let’s go home, jihoon.”
like being covered with a blanket.
---
+ 12:22pm
“hey, um.” jihoon clears his throat, disliking how his unease tripped up his larynx. jeonghan looks up at him from his cafeteria table in surprise and jihoon is definitely starting to have second thoughts about this. regardless, he trudges on despite his reluctance to confront pretty much everything. “can i sit here?”
“oh. sure, jihoon.” jeonghan says it like he’s answering the way he should and he isn’t sure what way he actually wants to. jihoon feels twice as bad.
“look--” jihoon sets his lunch tray down and takes a seat on the bench across jeonghan’s as jeonghan shimmies away from the rest of his friends to give them a bit of privacy. jihoon picks up his chopsticks just for something to do and picks at his rice. “i’m sorry i kinda, uh. weirded out on you yesterday. i was just processing a lot and my brain just sorta. shuts people out a bit. yeah. sorry.”
jihoon steels himself enough to finally look up at jeonghan. he’s slightly taken aback by his soft expression, partly due to his tendency to viscerally reject anything resembling human emotion. then again, jeonghan’s always been nicer to him than he deserves.
“it’s fine,” jeonghan says, soft smile still in place. jihoon nods and goes back to pushing food around the little compartments of his tray. “sorry again. i did push too much.”
jihoon waves his hand as if warding off any memory of the subject. “it’s done.” and it is.
“anyway,” jihoon goes on to say, “i’ve been doing some thinking. well, it’s more like--” (like you know how when you panic-skim the coverage for an exam without really taking in anything just to see how fucked you are? that’s what’s been happening except it’s not an exam, it’s just. junhui.) “--never mind. let’s go with ‘thinking.’ i’ve been doing some thinking and i guess i maybe need to talk to someone about the whole. y’know.”
jeonghan’s mouth is slightly parted in a way that suggested that he very clearly did not know.
“thing,” jihoon finishes. he says it like it’s capitalized. Thing.
“thing,” jeonghan repeats.
“thing,” jihoon clarifies.
see, jihoon knows he’s difficult in times like these. he knows it wouldn’t be so hard for himself and everyone around him if he’d just explain himself properly using words like normal people but he really would much rather have everyone get it immediately. somehow. without him having to do anything. it was one of his more insufferable traits, he knows, he just didn’t quite get around to doing anything about it yet.
“thing.” jeonghan nods. he was surprisingly good at that--understanding jihoon’s cryptic methods of communication. “well, you like him, jihoon. it’s not that complicated.”
“it can’t be as simple as that,” jihoon says disbelievingly.
“it really is.”
“if i really did--l-like him, then i wouldn’t be having any dreams about him!”
“jihoon, what do you even think dreaming about someone usually means?”
“that i’m having a nightmare, obviously. sleeping should be dreamless.”
“jihoon.” jeonghan looks as if he’s trying to decide whether jihoon’s being serious or not. jihoon’s not sure what decision he arrives at. maybe jeonghan isn't either. “they’re only nightmares if bad things happen in them. do bad things happen in these dreams?”
“yeah, they’re super fucking terrifying.”
“oh, really?” jeonghan crosses his arms skeptically. “and what kind of terrifying things happen, pray tell?”
“he--” jihoon knows better than to share anything so private, so intimate, so vulnerable, but the words tumble out of his mouth with a desperation of a lost little boy. “he holds my hand. and it’s so warm. so warm that it feels real.”
---
+ tuesday, 12:23am
jihoon’s feet feel like lead when he gets down from the bus. his heart thumps uncomfortably as he stares down junhui’s back and follows him down their street, but this time jihoon’s a little more certain of his anxiety. he’s not sure if that makes anything better or worse.
jihoon stops walking and calls out to him before he gets too far ahead for him to hear.
“junhui,” he breathes. his voice mingles with the evening air, so much so that he’s afraid junhui doesn’t hear him.
“i just don’t understand--” jihoon hears himself whine that morning before school, “why you have to go with dad on his business trip. you don’t even work.”
it’s a gamble when jihoon pushes the boundaries of respect when it comes to talking to his parents, he’s aware. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done so and set off one of his mom’s one-sided shouting matches or his dad’s--well, his dad wasn’t around enough to do anything much but he was unfortunately quite skilled at shooting jihoon some disappointed glances over his newspaper. jihoon’s family wasn’t exactly reminiscent of a hallmark card, to say the least.
“a husband and a wife should be together,” his mom says simply as she does some last-minute packing of her carry-on bag. jihoon can already hear the edge in her voice creeping through, even if it seems like she’s trying her best to hide it.
“please,” jihoon mutters from his seat at the breakfast table, picking at his food. “you’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t cheat on you.”
his mom sets down her bag on the counter with enough force to signal to him that it was only going to get worse from here on out. “what did you say to me.”
jihoon’s temper bubbles over. there was no stopping him now. “i said, ‘you’re just trying to make sure--’”
the slap across his face stings, but jihoon’s determined not to break, keeping his head still. any sign of emotion at all and he loses. that’s just how it’s always been.
“while i’m away you can pretend you have no parents,” his mom spits at him, pulling her luggage along with her as she leaves. “since you hate us so much, it’s like everything you’ve always wanted, right?” without another glance at him, she slams the door behind her.
jihoon’s eyes stay dry, but it still feels like he’s the one who’s lost.
“mm?” junhui offhandedly spins round to face jihoon, hands in his pockets and his lips turned upward in an elfish smile that made jihoon ache absentmindedly with a stupid sort of longing and suddenly jihoon can’t meet his eyes.
“can you come over please?” his voice is so small and he hates it, but he needs this, he needs to ask.
junhui’s head tilts slightly, puzzled. “oh.” he takes a few strides to stand closer to jihoon, looking as if he’s immersed in thought. “can i drop my stuff off at home first?”
jihoon thinks it over. he thinks about how much he doesn’t want to return to an empty house and about how much energy he doesn’t have to put up a front for junhui’s picture-perfect family if he goes with him.
“just for a few hours. one, even,” jihoon pleads. “please?”
junhui’s lips part to answer him and jihoon thinks about how junhui has always been so good to him even when he deserves it the least.
“okay.”
---
jihoon makes his way to his room soundlessly, moving through the apartment like he’s possessed. it isn’t until the image of junhui standing in his doorway bathed in the fluorescent yellow of the streetlight finally sinks in that he realizes he’s forgotten to turn on any of the lights. he sighs and sits at the edge of his bed. he’s too tired.
“sorry,” jihoon finally says. “i just don’t like being alone. i can’t do it.” saying it takes so much out of him that his voice ends up a whisper.
he hates that he’s put junhui in this position, probably at a loss for what to do or how to deal, and jihoon is sorry but he is scrabbling for his last lifeline.
and junhui (always good to him, always) makes sure jihoon grabs ahold of it.
the mattress dips when junhui sits next to him, inadvertently causing jihoon to lean into him. junhui knows and jihoon knows and everyone who has to spend any waking moment within jihoon’s general vicinity knows that jihoon isn’t the tactile kind, but junhui is so warm and his arm comes around jihoon like it belongs there and at the back of jihoon’s mind he realizes that junhui has never really pushed, never really demanded physicality from jihoon like it was something he owed junhui. junhui is just--there, and jihoon can say no, but, god, did junhui make it so very hard to do just that.
something burns inside jihoon, an alien sort of heat that takes control of how his hands run up junhui’s chest, pressing him down, down into the bed. junhui is nothing short of bewildered, his face an open book of confusion. jihoon wants to let out a laugh, but his breathing is too loud in his ears, too focused on the feel of junhui’s cotton school shirt under his palms. he’s not sure what he’s doing or what his body is planning to do, just knows that there are five million invisible threads pulling him closer to him. strangely, it feels like it’s been a long time coming. junhui’s mouth is so close.
but jihoon isn’t brave. he knows this, especially when his eyes meet junhui’s and the earth disappears from underneath him.
he’s not brave, jihoon thinks, as the fingers of his one hand come up to brush against the curve of junhui’s lower lip, then the deep slope of his cupid’s bow. his cheekbone, jawline. nose. chin. jihoon’s fingertips, light and harmless. easy. effortless.
junhui just. takes it, patiently waiting for the end of jihoon’s reverie. he watches jihoon through lidded eyes, his lips parted, and it makes everything warm, warm, and jihoon wants.
instead he presses their foreheads together in some sort of apology, which he verbalizes with an “i’m sorry.” jihoon understands nothing, doesn’t understand why it seems so easy all of a sudden to be this close, this defenseless. to junhui.
(maybe it’s what he’s wanted all along.)
“i’m scared,” jihoon whispers. “it’s still so scary. i’m sorry.”
junhui cradles jihoon’s face in between his hands. if jihoon moves a tiny bit, he thinks, he can reach junhui’s mouth. it’s both terrifying and captivating beyond belief.
“it’ll be okay,” junhui says, and his eyes speak with an honesty so pure in intention that jihoon believes him with all of his heart.
soon, the room glows with dawn and all jihoon can hear is their breathing.
---
+ wednesday, 6:08pm
“there’s something different about you,” jeonghan says as they do a quick run down to the convenience store before self-study period.
“hm?” jihoon absentmindedly sifts through the stacks of microwaveable meals. “oh, yeah, i didn’t, uh--didn’t get much sleep last night,” he hedges. it’s not exactly a lie. “i probably look like a wreck, i know.”
“no, no,” he hears jeonghan protest. “you look--better than you have in months. you look happy.”
jihoon doesn’t know what to say to that. “i--don’t know what to say to that,” he replies, settling on grabbing some standard instant noodles and heading towards the cashier.
like a dog with a bone, jeonghan refuses to let it go, hurrying to jihoon’s side and unceremoniously dumping a matching pack of noodles onto the counter to be rung up alongside jihoon’s purchase.
“hey--” jihoon starts indignantly. “hyung, i am not paying for that.”
“did something happen?” jeonghan continues like jihoon’s said nothing. “with jun?”
“so i look happier and it’s immediately thanks to junhui?” jihoon raises an eyebrow, defeatedly throwing down some extra bills to pay for the other ramyeon.
“he’s the only thing that’s changed these past two years, isn’t he?”
jihoon shoves the noodle pack towards jeonghan’s chest and opts to head straight for the hot water station. inevitably, jeonghan follows.
“did you guys have sex?”
jihoon chokes on his spit, sending him into a fit of coughing. “excuse me?”
“what, like high schoolers don’t get horny? well, i mean, not everyone, i guess. but isn’t that what they always talk about, the glow--”
jihoon nearly slams his bowl on the table they’ve chosen to sit at outside. “i am not glowing.”
“if you don’t tell me, i’m just going to assume you did the do.”
“we did not have sex!”
“but something did happen.”
jihoon rolls his eyes exasperatedly. obviously, sense was not the way to get through to yoon jeonghan. “nothing is sacred,” he mutters, breaking up his just-cooked noodles with his chopsticks.
“hmmm,” jeonghan whines in a wheedling tone, sounding a lot like trouble. jihoon confirms he is right to be wary when jeonghan slides out of his chair to wrap his arms around jihoon, the ends of his hair tickling jihoon’s nape, his lips ending up right next to jihoon’s ear.
“c’mon, jihoonie, pleeease?”
“are you really trying to use my past feelings for you to get me to tell you about the person i currently have feelings for? what logic are you operating on?”
“desperate times,” jeonghan quips, nuzzling his nose into jihoon’s cheek affectionately before fucking off to his own damned seat. “but hey--it sounds good coming out of your own mouth for once.”
“what does?”
“that you have feelings for him.”
jihoon reddens significantly. “w-whatever.”
“and that you had feelings for me.”
“go away.”
---
+ thursday, 7:58am
+ if you’re not the one, then you’re not / then you’re not
“jun,” jihoon calls, catching him about to enter the classroom. “where’d you go last night? i didn’t see you at self-study.”
the morning after junhui had stayed over, jihoon found himself irresistibly drawn to him, wanting to stay near him when he could. they were on eggshells with each other, not knowing where they stood or were supposed to stand, but still going on stepping towards the other, letting the cracks appear where they may. more than once, they’d held the other’s gaze for a few seconds more than what was considered normal without realizing, ending up flustering the both of them.
but junhui seems a little different today.
“i took off early.”
jihoon tells himself that he’s just imagining his curt tone. it’s much too soon to lose his nerve.
“h-hey,” he says, reaching for junhui’s hand. “are you okay--”
junhui’s hand quickly retreats out of jihoon’s reach.
(it stings, stings like lemon juice on a paper cut. he might as well have struck him clear across the face.)
“maybe we should stop studying together, jihoon.”
(it’s a sickly feeling of surprise, the kind that paralyzes.)
“i take up so much of your time, it’s unfair.”
(there is less and less sense in strings of words than in a box of puzzle pieces.)
“i’ve been keeping you from your own friends.”
(how does he tell him that he has become everything)
“class is about to start.”
(not like this, not like this)
“i should go.”
(it hurts.)
---
+ friday, 1:36am
what
---
+ saturday, 11:15pm
did
---
+ sunday, 12:04am
i
---
+ monday, 10:43pm
do
---
+ tuesday, 3:21am
wrong
---
+ wednesday, 4:31pm
+ who gives it all and smiles though everything is lost / is there a fool like me?
“hey,” jihoon hears from the entrance of the classroom, familiar and comforting. he looks up to see jeonghan leaning against the doorframe. “haven’t seen you in a while. cleaning duty?” he asks, eyeing the broom in jihoon’s hands.
“no, just felt like a good day to stand in an empty classroom with a random cleaning implement.”
“ah.” jeonghan nods, shifting his weight to move towards jihoon. “one of those days.”
“why are you here?”
jeonghan looks as if he thinks it might be a good idea to beat around the bush but decides the better of it. “i’m worried about you.”
jihoon scoffs. “what reason is there to be worried about me?”
“i’ve seen you around school. i’ve seen jun around school. never together, though. care to explain what the hell happened there?”
jihoon tries to keep his face expressionless at the mention of junhui’s name, but he wasn’t ready for it, feeling his lips press into a line. “here we go again. i don’t get when everything that goes wrong or everything that goes right became so dependent on jun. we’re nothing, okay? we go to school together, we’re in the same class--that’s it.”
“that’s bullshit and you know it,” jeonghan says quietly.
“oh, he made it very clear that’s all we are,” jihoon almost shouts.
“jihoon,” jeonghan says in that annoying, placating tone of his. he reaches out to touch jihoon’s neck, arm, waist, like making as many points of physical contact as possible will mollify him. if it were anyone else, jihoon would have had several of their joints dislocated. “i’m sure it’s nothing you can’t talk out.”
jihoon shrugs out of jeonghan’s hold. “don’t say that like it’s so easy.”
“easy for me,” jeonghan amends. “herculean for you. but worth it.” he doesn’t give up on his physical contact, placing a hand against jihoon’s neck with renewed vigor like he needs jihoon to understand. “he’s so good for you, jihoon. you’re good for him. i don’t want you to let this go.”
“i don’t know. i don’t know how.”
“you do. i trust you. you can.”
they both jump at a noise from the door of the classroom. jihoon looks up to see a flash of white uniform and floppy brown hair leaving as quickly as it had come. he drops his broom to run into the hallway, looking, looking for (he’s sure it was) him. students mill about the entire length of the corridor, busy attending to cleaning, but jihoon sees nothing, nothing.
---
+ saturday, 1:06am
[ voice_msg: jihoonie ] “jun. jun, i miss you so much. i’m sorry. whatever i did, i’m sorry. i’m not good at this, but i’m trying. i miss you. i miss you calling me in the morning to wake me up because you know i oversleep. i miss how you always have food with you, and how i always end up with some that i never ask for. i miss hearing you sing in chinese, the way you don’t realize when you do. i miss seeing you. i miss seeing your weird faces and the weird things you say and do. i just can’t do this--whatever this is. i’m sorry i--i know i get mean sometimes, but that’s just on me, not you, and i’ll change, i promise, just please, please. don’t act like this is nothing. i can’t do that.
god, that was a mess, wasn’t it. i’m not even sure what i’m saying anymore. it’s okay if you just ignore this, pretend i never sent it. but you’re too--good for that, jun, i know. it’s why everyone’s so in love with you, why i--
god, junhui, i--
i miss you.”
---
+ 1:08am
“jihoon?”
“oh, fuck.”
“what are you doing here?”
---
so it starts like this: in some kind of drunken stupor and/or rush of adrenaline (he’s way too past fucked to tell at this point), jihoon stumbles out his front door at one in the morning, phone in hand, trudging through the chilly night air down the street to the next block.
jun jun jun jun
he thinks he’s at the right apartment building. it vaguely matches the hazy picture of it inside his head from the two or three times he’s gone over.
his thumb is already pressing the little microphone icon in their chat thread, holding the phone up to his mouth.
after leaving the voice message, his hand drops to his side and he’s stuck there on the sidewalk, gazing stupidly at the building, wondering which window--
jun jun jun
he doesn’t have a plan. he doesn’t have some grand gesture plotted out. he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. maybe he should just go home.
jun jun
his feet already take a few steps backward, ready to do the smart thing and call it quits. what did he expect to happen? for shit to just fall into place like some sappy fucking fairytale? jihoon knew shit, knew it well, and it wasn’t exactly known for falling into place--otherwise, it wouldn’t be called shit.
he’s startled by movement behind the glass of the building entrance and he’s about ready to fucking bolt, but he knows who it is, swinging the door open, because of course it is, of course--
jun
it’s strange, jihoon thinks, how paralyzed he is.
---
“i don’t know,” jihoon answers. he just wants to stand there so he can look at junhui, really look at him, not steal five-second glances at his back in a classroom. it’s not that jihoon is expecting him to look any different--he doesn’t. still the same old beautiful. even in sweats and an old t-shirt. jihoon’s fingers twitch, wanting desperately to touch him.
“i got your message.” junhui takes a step closer, hands coming up awkwardly then down again, fists clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you, jihoon.”
jihoon glues his eyes somewhere on the tiled sidewalk, feeling them start to get hot, turning his vision blurry. well, you did. “what did you mean, then?” he manages to get out.
“maybe i was being selfish, but--it was hard for me, jihoon. i thought i could be okay with staying friends while--i mean--i really thought--” junhui heaves a deep sigh. “can i touch you?”
jihoon blinks up at him and nods, probably a bit too intensely for how much he wants to let on (not much). he feels his heart break at the stupid, sweet, apologetic smile junhui’s wearing as he gathers jihoon’s hands between his. jihoon’s fingers are long, but junhui’s are a bit broader, closing around jihoon’s easily, making him feel very small. at another time, maybe he would have minded, but right now, he doesn’t, really. not so much. not at all.
“sorry,” junhui says. “i assumed it would help me think straight. and it does. anyway. i guess what i’m saying is--i’ll be your friend if you want me to be. i just thought it would be better if i wasn’t, because i--i didn’t want to end up ruining everything. i know you always had a thing for him, but i hoped--but he makes you so happy and i thought i could deal with that, but i couldn’t, and i still don’t know if i can, but--”
“jun, what.”
“what ‘what’?”
“who are you talking about? who’s ‘he’?”
“your boyfriend?”
jihoon is speechless for a record of forty-five seconds. “what boyfriend?”
“yoon jeonghan-sunbae.”
if jihoon could spontaneously burst into flames, he swears to god, now would be the perfect time for it to happen. “jun!” he cries in exasperation. the waterworks are fully functional now, quite the opposite of the pyrotechnics show he’d originally imagined, making jihoon throw junhui’s hands down so he can sob into the sleeves of his hoodie in a mix of frustration, rage, relief, and general emotional turmoil. it was a lot to process.
“god, junhui, you’re so stupid.” his voice comes out muffled from behind his cotton pullover.
“jihoon?”
“he’s not my boyfriend!” jihoon throws his arms down, aware that he looks a right mess.
“b-but i’ve seen you together, at the convenience store, the classroom? and you’re always pretty close--”
“that’s just how jeonghan-hyung is.” jihoon’s foot petulantly stomps on the sidewalk, disbelieving that he has to explain how he’s sure he does not have a boyfriend. “the person i like is you, jun!”
the processing delay time is so very obvious on junhui’s face, but eventually, his wide eyes curve into crescents, crinkling at the corners. and his smile.
it really is something.
---
+ saturday of the next week, 11:14pm
+ the sky’s moon is floating like my heart / our love fills the sky with sparks that fly up
“the joseon dynasty was from 1392 to 1897, not 1879,” jihoon corrects.
“i am never gonna remember all this,” junhui whines.
“you just have to do it over and over again. don’t be a baby.”
junhui sighs. jihoon feels it as much as he hears it because he’s using junhui’s torso as a pillow, laying perpendicular to him on junhui’s full-sized bed while jihoon goes through his chemistry textbook.
“okay, okay, um,” junhui says, fingers of one hand twirling through locks of jihoon’s hair. suddenly, acids and bases aren’t quite as engaging. “the goryeo dynasty was 918 to 1392.”
“mmhm.”
junhui’s hand catches on jihoon’s ear, lightly tracing the shell of it. “joseon was 1392 to 1897.”
“good,” jihoon breathes.
“and the korean empire lasted from 1897 to 1910. that’s right, isn’t it?”
“yep.”
“don’t i get a prize?” he laughs, pinching jihoon’s earlobe.
jihoon feigns disinterest when he puts down his book and rolls over so he’s face-to-face with junhui. “do you want one?”
before junhui can answer, jihoon leans up to press a kiss to his mouth.
“you know you’re--” junhui says when he pulls away, “--surprisingly good at that. for someone who hasn’t dated before.”
jihoon’s lips twitch upwards in amusement. “i’m a quick learner,” he mutters before kissing him again, licking into junhui’s mouth with the sort of shamelessness he didn’t know he had in him.
junhui gives a small, surprised squeak, fingers tangling into jihoon’s hair in spite of himself.
“jihoon,” junhui mumbles against his lips. “j-jihoon, wait, stop--”
reluctantly, jihoon pulls away again, flushing at the momentary line of spit connecting their mouths. “what?”
“maybe we should finish the exam coverage before we, uh. do anything else.” jihoon raises his eyebrows. “don’t look at me like that. i just--” his thumb comes up to stroke jihoon’s cheek, and jihoon is in love, in love. “i don’t think you should be losing any more sleep because of me.”
jihoon breaks into a smile, grabbing junhui by the shirt to pull him in. “i’m always losing sleep over you.”
+ in my mind we can conquer the world / in love, you and i, you and i, you and i