Chapter Text
It was sundown when Jihoon reached the Viaduct, the lingering rays of the setting sun illuminating the dimly lit path. Dusks were pretty much the same everyday. Plants were wilting one by one, gradually succumbing to the chills of the oncoming winter. Whilst winter had a slow, languorous feel to it that he had always looked forward to, autumn had gone by too quickly for his own liking. Jihoon should have packed his scarf inside his old, ratty satchel. It was getting colder as days unceremoniously glided by. Well, he would not be here, shivering as the crisp wind flicked his face, if not for Yoon Jeonghan, a seventh year Slytherin and a close friend of his, who owled him during his free period, asking him to meet up after his Ancient Runes class. He could only grunt in response as he had already dedicated his remaining free time in doing his homework on Herbology (the sixth year was eager to learn about a magical plant endemic to Scotland and England called Snargaluff and how to properly extract its pods). With lessons becoming more arduous than ever, Jihoon preferred to make use of his time wisely, implementing a systematic study routine so he would not fall behind. Even if it means spending less time with his friends—he didn't have a lot, truth be told—and more time lodging at the library instead.
"Jihoonie!"
A familiar voice called. He recoiled upon hearing the doting pet name. Well, it’s Jeonghan—everyone’s favorite older brother, as people loved to dub it. If another person called him that, he might have pulled a jinx or a petrificus totalus on them. Just kidding, he was exaggerating—or not.
He had spotted his hyung enthusiastically waving his hands up in the air, a huge, roguish grin plastered on his handsome face. Jihoon was still wondering what brought this sudden meetup on but as long as Jeonghan kept them out of trouble and let him return to the common room before curfew (also, he still had a three-foot long essay about Golpalott’s Third Law and had not perfected concocting an antidote referring to the said law yet so, he needed to be back as early as possible to practice; talk about academic work overload), everything would be fine. Or so he hoped.
“You came! I am honestly chuffed!” Jeonghan chirped, snaking an arm around the younger’s shoulders as they ambled along the quad. “So, how were your classes? I haven't seen you around that much ever since the start of the year! N.E.W.T. classes are a pain in the ass but you are way too hard working, Jihoonie! You should be enjoying your youth! And according to a reliable source, you opted to not participate in the Quidditch match against the Hufflepuffs too. That's such a waste! After all, you're Slytherin’s best Keeper!”
“Reliable source, my foot! Soonyoung told you, didn’t he? And please, do not let Chan hear you. The kid was extremely ecstatic when I asked him to be my replacement. Plus, I can barely keep up with the huge amount of schoolwork the professors give us daily. It is physically and mentally taxing! Truly Nastily Exhausting!" Jihoon sighed dejectedly. “You should have seen how devastated Junhui looked when we were trying to turn vinegar into wine for Charms class today! It was hilarious how the liquid inside his glass flask turned frozen solid instead. No one was able to do it anyway. Even Soonyoung who claimed to be the best at this subject.”
Jeonghan let out a cheery laugh, listening to his friend’s babble intently. Jihoon could be endearingly talkative when he wanted to. “Back in sixth year, I remember Seungcheol’s flask exploding when we had that lesson. He was too busy chatting with Joshua about the Quidditch World Cup, forgetting about the correct incantation. And the fact that he had always been great at Charms did not help. Professor Flitwick could only sigh in disappointment. It was a sight to behold.”
“Seungcheol had always been embarrassing.” Jihoon snorted.
“Agreed.” The older smiled, reminded of their younger years. “Anyway! Are you ready to have some fun?”
Fun? What kind of fun? Jihoon’s eyebrows knitted in concern. His hyung always had a different definition of fun and that included hexing people for his own entertainment. Well, he does not hex random students per se—Jeonghan was not that evil—but he did it to folks he found pesky, e.g. stuck up Slytherin purebloods and overweening ruffians (as Jeonghan loved to call it) from other the houses.
Feeling a tad bit nervous about this whole ordeal, Jihoon proceeded to ask. “Hyung? Where are we going? May I remind you that I refuse to partake in any activity that goes against my morals?”
“Shut up and get off your moral high horse, Jihoonie! What do you take me for?” Jeonghan winked as he tugged Jihoon’s arm, dashing to the empty corridor. “You’ll see what I am talking about!”
Bloody hell.
“Here we are!” Jeonghan eagerly said in a hushed tone, stopping as they set foot on a door opposite the enormous Troll Tapestry, a depiction of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet. He could not seem to remember that such an entrance existed here on the seventh floor. Jihoon silently observed his surroundings. With Divination and Arithmancy classes long dismissed, the corridors were usually deserted at this time of the day, students probably heading to the Great Hall for dinner but he could not help but be wary of wandering souls. Hopefully, no one had seen them loitering around the halls.
Jihoon stared at the door, a bit iffy. “It's my first time seeing this. Had it always been here?”
“Sometimes it is there, sometimes it is not.” Jeonghan casually answered, observing his reactions with mirth.
To say Jihoon was baffled is an understatement. “I do not understand?”
“May I present to you—drum rolls, please—the Room of Requirement!"
“The room of what?” Jihoon asked, completely gobsmacked.
“The Room of Requirement! I cannot believe this is the first time you are hearing about this! I know you are very much confused but let me explain it to you. It only appears when you are in great need of it. You have to be specific about what you need though. The room transforms itself to whatever the person demands at the moment.”
Fascinating. It was not impossible the castle held a lot of secret passages and doorways hence, this magical room.
“Flabbergasting, isn’t it?” Jeonghan clapped his hands together in enthusiasm. Jihoon just nodded, still in awe. “But of course, the room has its own rules and limitations. If you're aware of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration, you cannot conjure something out of thin air. For example, food, like a platter of steak and kidney pudding! If you are starving, it couldn't provide you something to eat. A bummer, honestly. But enough trivia! Let us come in before someone catches us. Although, I could simply say I am doing my Head Boy duties, Mr. Filch and his grouchy cat may not buy that.”
“Wait!" Jihoon hesitated. He was not the type to get easily terrified but Merlin forbids something vicious living there, like a mountain troll or a cockatrice. “Are you sure it's safe to come in?”
“Of course! To calm you down and to assure you that a basilisk is not guarding the door, I've been there plenty of times. Come on, Jihoonie. I wouldn't bring you here if it was risky.” Jeonghan coaxed.
He just shrugged. Well, here goes nothing. The older yanked the door open, revealing a spacious but terribly cluttered room. “After you, Jihoonie.”
Jihoon went inside first, rushing past Jeonghan with a swirl of weighty robes. The room was not dark but it was not well-lit either, the only source of light flickering, nearly dying. It awfully smelled like a mixture of dust and rust (likely from the metalwares) that made his nose scrunch in obvious aversion. The room was full of damaged furniture, chairs, desks and old cabinets haphazardly stacked on top of one another. There were thousands of books, hardcovers and paperbacks, some neatly stockpiled on bookshelves, some were assembled on the floor. There were frames and portraits, most of it covered with a huge black cloak. A few broomsticks, disassembled armors, cauldrons, even cages, probably languished there for years now. He trudged inside, careful not to touch anything.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know, hyung. You asked me to come with you for...this? ” Jihoon inquired, utterly miffed.
Unbelievable! He could have been eating some good dessert right now, a treacle tart to be exact or writing his Potions essay which was due next week (but the earlier he finished it, the better).
Jeonghan hooted with laughter, enjoying the look of displeasure on the younger wizard’s face. It only aggravated Jihoon more.
“I am this close,” Jihoon held up his fingers, looking like he was holding a piece of thread. “To walking away, hyung! What are we even doing here? I want answers. Right now.”
Jeonghan had only given him an affectionate pet on the head in reply.
“Hyung!"
“Now, now, Jihoonie. Calm down and follow me. There's something I want you to see.”
Jihoon continued to protest even as Jeonghan led him to the corner of the room where a huge artefact covered with a red cloth was standing. He did not notice it when he went in, the room being messy enough as it is.
“What's this?” Jihoon asked.
Jeonghan unhurriedly peeled the cloth, presenting him a towering, ornate mirror with clawed feet. He surveyed the whole thing, face blank. There was an inscription on the topmost part of the mirror.
"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." Jihoon breathed. Odd. He found it odd. Was that some sort of an incantation? He glanced at his hyung again, searching for an answer.
“This is the Mirror of Erised." Jeonghan answered briefly. Jihoon had only sent him cautious looks. “Do not give me that eye, young man. It is nothing dangerous nor nightmarish. I promise.”
“I am not sure, hyung. It looks...dodgy.” Jihoon said, dubiously eyeing the elder. “So, what should I do?”
“Just look at your reflection in the mirror.”
“Fine.” Jihoon relented, quietly observing his reflection. “I am only seeing myself.”
“Wait for a few moments, Jihoonie. You will see what you want to see.”
A few minutes ticked by, he looked...normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. But all of a sudden, Jihoon sucked in a gasp as he saw another figure surfacing in the mirror. He squinted at the reflection for the second time.
No way.
Lo and behold, a smiling Soonyoung appeared to be standing beside him—caging him in what seemed to be a romantic embrace. He quickly turned around and saw no one. Taking a glimpse of it again, he saw Soonyoung, grinning at him like a Cheshire cat, eyes disappearing into slits as he tightened the hug. Sweet Merlin, he always looked the best when he smiles.
He looked at Jeonghan, the older watching him intently with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What do you see?”
“Hyung? I think the mirror is playing tricks on me,” he mumbled, voice laced with a tinge of panic. Jihoon gawked at the man in the mirror, feeling an inexplicable burning on his chest. “Why am I seeing Soonyoung huddled beside me? He's not even here!”
In the midst of all this, Jeonghan grew more amused than ever.
“Are you playing a prank on me?”
Jeonghan only smiled at the accusation. “I am not. Do you want me to look at my own reflection and tell you what I am seeing?”
“Be my guest.”
Jihoon stepped aside to let Jeonghan look at the mirror. A forlorn smile immediately crept up on the older’s face upon gazing at it. It was almost—plaintive, one of the rare times he seemed so vulnerable. Jeonghan averted his eyes from the reflection, noticing the look of concern adorning his junior’s features. In a split second, the whirl of desolation on the wizard’s face was masked by some fake ardor Jihoon was especially familiar with.
“Jeonghan hyung? Is everything alright? What did you see?”
“I can see us winning the upcoming Quidditch match against the Hufflepuffs.” Jeonghan replied, a little too nonchalant. Being adopted to his hyung’s tightly knitted social circle back when he was still a timid first year and currently being one of his most trusted friends, Jihoon had always seen through his lies but he decided not to prod any longer, sensing that the matter might be a personal one.
“Now, come Jihoonie. Look at your reflection again.”
Jihoon nervously sauntered beside Jeonghan, tightly closing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. Shyly peeking at his reflection, he spotted Soonyoung again, his smile unwavering and still radiant as ever. Mustering the courage to speak, he turned to a quiet Jeonghan.
“Dare I ask why does this bloody mirror keep on showing Soonyoung when he's not even here with us?” And the most unusual part of it all? His arms were securely wrapped around me, eyes fond, making it seem he likes me, Jihoon wanted to profess. “What's this magical artefact trying to say? Why are we seeing what we are seeing?”
“The Mirror of Erised shows the deepest, most desperate desires of a man’s heart. If you study it closely, the words engraved in its golden frame actually say ‘I show not your face but your heart's desire’ backwards. Each person is unique, whatever you see in the mirror is entirely exclusive to you. If you ask me to look at it right now, I wouldn't be able to see what you are seeing.” Jeonghan explained, eyes still trained on the magical mirror. “What the mirror shows isn't knowledge nor the truth. Your deepest yearning could be something attainable, oftentimes, impossible. Wondrous and dismal at the same time, isn’t it?”
In a flash, he felt all muddled and faint. Immense feelings of anxiety taking over his entire being. “Apologies if I am not reacting to this news with appropriate excitement but I am honestly befuddled. What do you mean by 'most desperate desires of a man’s heart?’ Are you implying that I am—”
“Intensely, unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Kwon Soonyoung and you are seeing him in the mirror because he's the one your heart is yearning for? Well, that is a big yes.” Jeonghan interrupted.
“So, are you telling me that these...silly reflections are actually projections of what you are pining for?” Jihoon’s face turned crimson from realization.
No, no, no.
"This is not happening. Just no." Jihoon whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, looking like a second away from a nervous breakdown.
“Oh, come on now, Lee Jihoon! On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be if you stop being in a constant state of denial? It's not good for your health—”
Jihoon did not let him finish and yelled “A hundred!”
“Was only asking on a scale of one to ten, Jihoonie. Your answer was way off the charts!” Jeonghan teased. Jihoon glowered as he turned his back against Jeonghan to walk away from the scene. “Hey! Where are you going?”
“I would rather be pecked to death by a flock of hippogriffs!” Jihoon groused, almost tripping off on a hoard of cauldrons, nearly scuffing his knees on the floor.
“Wait! I had thought.”
Oh no, Jihoon murmured in utter incredulity.
“Is it fitting to call a group of hippogriffs a ‘flock?'”
The younger shot him a glare, exasperated. “I don't know, hyung. They are half-birds! Ask Hagrid! And I couldn't believe your brain only focused on that! Wait—is it really necessary to chew over this?”
Jeonghan smirked. “The hippogriffs? No. But your feelings for Soonyoung? Yes.”
Feelings? Bollocks. Bollocks. Bollocks.
He was overcome with a sense of dread as he leered at the mirror dazedly. This was not the first time he felt these strange, conflicting emotions. Just when he thought he triumphantly quelled any lingering feelings he harbored for Soonyoung a year ago—it was nothing, really, dismissing it as pure admiration for a reliable boon companion. Lee Jihoon does not do feelings, or at least he was not supposed to.
“Jihoonie.” Jeonghan called, his tone light, pulling him out of his trance. “I can hear you thinking from a mile away. A penny for your thoughts?”
“Hyung,” Jihoon began, nervously fiddling his robes. Jeonghan visibly softened at the sight. “Soonyoung is just a friend. He is just a friend.”
“Well, is he?”
Jihoon had found himself restlessly pacing outside the Slytherin Dungeons, pondering about what happened in the Room of Requirement. He was embarrassed to say the least. He stormed out of the room, mouthing an apprehensive "he is just a friend” as a response to Jeonghan’s blunt inquiry. He felt guilty for leaving him behind but he was overwhelmed by a flurry of trepidation the moment he was confronted about his feelings. He hid himself inside the disused seventh floor bathroom for an hour until he calmed down, ignoring his rumbling stomach and the unbearable throbbing of his chest. On his way back to the dorms, Jihoon accidentally bumped into Professor Longbottom, asking why he was not present at the Great Hall for the feast. He lied about losing track of his time studying at the library. Much to his luck, the thoughtful man let it slide, giving him a sympathetic clap on the back and wishing him good luck for his academic pursuits and the upcoming exams. At least he did not lose some house points for walking down the halls despite breaking the curfew—his housemates would not hesitate to break his nose for that.
Jeonghan got the cogs of his brain working too fast, truth be told.
“Soonyoung is just a friend.”
“Well, is he?”
His mind badly wanted to say yes but deep within the recesses of his heart, the answer was no. Pretending to be friends was all they ever would be was a gamble.
A gamble he might have lost a long time ago.
He let out a long, audible breath of hopelessness. He probably should take all these doleful musings inside his bedroom before someone catches him loafing outside the entrance. He sighed heavily for the umpteenth time that day before whispering the password “Pureblood” (he could only roll his eyes at their choice of passwords—foolish twats and their obsession with blood heritage). Jihoon quietly trudged the passage leading to the common room, careful not to make his presence known and wake anyone.
He was about to make a beeline straight to the shared bedroom when he spotted a silhouette sitting on one of the posh, button-tufted leather couches near the fireplace.
“Who's there?” A familiar voice echoed inside the dungeon-like room.
Jihoon’s eyes widened in panic as he recognized the owner of the voice at once. He remained rooted on his spot, his legs suddenly felt like jelly and his hands began to get clammy. Bugger. Out of all the people he could encounter! It meant he had to interact with the other, a conversation was inevitable knowing that chatterbox.
“Jihoonie?” Pause. “Jihoonie, is that you?”
“Y-yes,” Jihoon spluttered unattractively. “Yes, it’s me.”
He traipsed towards the carved chairs and saw Soonyoung cozily sitting there, clad in silk midnight blue pyjama bottoms and his favorite white hoodie that offset his late summer tan (a hoodie which was, in fact, a gift he had received from Jihoon on his birthday), an open book on his lap. Soonyoung beamed at the sight of his friend, his grin instantly making Jihoon’s stomach queasy. He always carried a kind of warmth with him. A ray of sunshine in the fog of unrelenting bleakness—Seungcheol’s words, not his.
“Hi.” Soonyoung greeted, tone genial, running his fingers through his artfully messy raven hair.
He hummed in acknowledgment, words seemingly stuck in his throat. The wizard lightly patted the space beside him, a silent request for him to take a seat. Jihoon flushed at the gesture but acquiesced anyway, flopping down at the other end of the couch. The farther their distance was, the better.
“I was waiting for you.”
Jihoon’s heartbeat quickened. “Why?”
“You skipped dinner. Again. No one even knew about your whereabouts. I was worried!” Soonyoung pouted. Jihoon was conflicted whether he wanted to feed him to a manticore or kiss that pout away. “Where have you been? It was past curfew! Have you eaten?”
He shook his head, earning a glare from Soonyoung. “I was proofreading my Potions essay, okay?” A total lie. “Then I did some research about Baruffio’s Brain Elixir, foregoing dinner in exchange of, you know, more knowledge.” Another lie.
“You awfully sounded like Wonwoo for a moment. His study habits are rubbing off on you! I could've mistaken you as a Ravenclaw.” Soonyoung grumbled as he handed him a plate of turkey sandwich and treacle tart, their fingers grazing for a brief moment. He winced at the contact; if the other had noticed, he did not comment on it. “Help yourself. Saved it for you when no one was looking. I know these are your favorites.”
Oh. That was thoughtful of him, such a heartwarming gesture. Jihoon willed away the ruddiness rapidly creeping up on his face but could not refrain his lips from slightly curving upwards.
“Thank you,” he gratefully mumbled, taking a huge bite on the sandwich. He was famished.
Soonyoung grinned at him in reply, focusing his attention back on the book. A comfortable silence engulfed the Common Room, saved for the sound of Soonyoung turning the pages of his book and the fire crackling. Jihoon absent-mindedly nibbled on his sandwich, swamped in his own thoughts, tracing and trailing through the history of his friendship with Soonyoung. From beneath his lashes, he took this moment to subtly examine his friend’s features. Soonyoung lost some weight, definitely from working out and playing Quidditch for years. His cheeks were not as plump as before, putting an emphasis on his sharp jawline. He looked more devastatingly handsome like this, serious and focused. He was not the same loud, hyperactive kid he met six years ago, the one who had never ceased to nettle Jihoon with his idle chatter. He had matured, often needing his own space to reflect and some quiet downtime. But he could still be excessively chirpy and chatty around the people he was comfortable with, willingly taking on the role as everyone’s happy pill alongside Seokmin and Seungkwan. Time sure ran quick.
“Jihoonie?” Soonyoung called, snapping him out of his reverie. He did not even notice Soonyoung was watching him closely, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you okay? Is there something on my face?”
He casted his eyes down on his half-eaten sandwich, face beet red. “Nothing! Uhh, what...what are you reading?” A lame attempt to change the topic.
"The Black Sheep by Honoré De Balzac, a muggle book I borrowed from Wonwoo yesterday,” he replied as he showed him the cover of the tattered, musty paperback. Jihoon internally sighed in relief when Soonyoung took the bait. “Wonderful cast of characters, heavy on melodrama though. But it's compelling and entertaining. You could say I am hooked.”
Jihoon opened his mouth to politely commend his friend, but what came out was, “I was not informed you are into reading. You used to fall asleep at the sight of it.”
Soonyoung scoffed. “Hey! I was a lazy first year back then! I will have you know this is the third book I have read this month.”
“And what were the first two titles?” Jihoon asked, there was a faint teasing lilt in his tone.
Perhaps not wanting to gloat but prove him wrong, Soonyoung’s face morphed into a serious one but failed miserably. “Northern Lights by Philip Pullman and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson.”
“Ah, classics. Wonwoo’s book recommendations are really something else.”
“Of course! What do you expect from a Ravenclaw? Plus, muggle literature is fairly impressive. Quidditch Through the Ages didn't give me this kind of satisfaction.” Jihoon tittered at that. “Also, I overheard some girls saying bibliophiles are charming. Extra brownie points.”
Jihoon clicked his tongue in mock contempt. “Reading to impress the female population, I see.”
Soonyoung let out an airy laugh, cheeks hunching up, making him look infuriatingly squishy. Cute. “I was kidding. I was actually searching for new hobbies. Hansol suggested getting a pet dragon. But there is no way I am smuggling a baby Swedish Short-Snout or a baby Hungarian Horntail here at Hogwarts. The professors would kick me out! Besides, I do not see the need for a new pet. I am quite happy cuddling with Woozi whenever he's in a good mood.”
Woozi was Soonyoung’s pet cat. A white, odd-eyed British Shorthair. He was thick and rounded, placid but can be fearfully snobbish at times. The furry animal had taken an odd liking to him, jumping on his lap whenever he was around, much to the owner’s dismay ("The betrayal!” Soonyoung complained all the time). Well, Soonyoung named his cat after him anyway. The reason why he sticks to you like glue, Junhui concluded. Woozi was his childhood nickname (a story for another day) and an elated 11 year old Soonyoung insisted that his charming cat resembled Jihoon, ergo the feline’s name.
The conversation flowed without a hitch after that, Jihoon’s meal long forgotten. Soonyoung droned about his quest in looking for a new pastime while Jihoon listened to him attentively, throwing comments here and there whenever appropriate. They talked about Quidditch, their class projects, the stark differences between muggle and wizard literature which almost resulted in a heated debate, muggle musicians (Radiohead versus Oasis, a discussion about who was the better rock band), and the latest tales circulating around the student population.
“Have you noticed something different about Jun and Wonwoo lately?” Soonyoung asked.
Jihoon tried to recount all those times he joined the two. “What’s up?”
“With Seungkwan’s loud mouth, I am quite surprised that the valuable information—hey, do not look at me like that. His words, not mine! As I was saying, it was surprising it had not reached you yet. Even the Hufflepuffs cannot stop twaddling about it.”
Now Jihoon’s interest was piqued. “What is it about anyway? You know me, I am not into tittle-tattle.”
“Apparently, Jun had confessed to Wonwoo during our last Hogsmeade weekend trip.”
What? “For real? I thought he liked Minghao!”
“Surprising, right?” He nodded. “Hearing Jun gush about Minghao in front of us often, you would probably think he was crushing on him. But no, all this time, he had his eyes set for someone else. You know what's vexing? Wonwoo thought it was an idiotic prank gone wrong and that Jun was accidentally put under the influence of amortentia.”
Jihoon was dumbfounded. Why do confessions seem like a messy affair? It was borderline frightening.
He tried not to entertain such thoughts and went back to the conversation. “Let me guess. Junhui got dumped?”
“Sadly, yes. Wonwoo dismissed Jun before the poor man could even finish his speech. With my best friend’s emotional constipation issues and Jun’s unwillingness to properly explain himself, it might take them a while to talk. I honestly feel bad for the both of them.”
Soonyoung sat back and exhaled deeply.
“Love is...extremely complicated. What if you only like the idea of being in love? Or what if you are just mistaking another emotion as love? While it might feel true, is there a possibility that the thought you are having is in fact false? Your brain tells you to do these things and forces your heart to follow suit. Often, you simply cannot know for sure that what you are feeling is...true. What if it is a mere infatuation heightened by the heat of the moment? What if it is just a platonic adoration for a good friend mistaken as romantic feelings? In these cases, it's helpful to remind yourself that your thinking might be wrong. I don't know. I cannot fully grasp this whole will-they-or-won’t-they trope either. Ah, I am sorry. Am I making any sense?” Soonyoung smiled, rubbing his nape sheepishly.
Jihoon had never breached this territory. It was easier to ignore such feelings than act on it, he believed. This was all new to him. He released all the pent up feelings through other activities like flying around in circles at the Quidditch pitch, practicing some defensive spells (just in case of an attack, it was better to be prepared) or sometimes, relying on music and composing songs. He usually shrugged these emotions off with thinly concealed indifference.
Since they were on the topic of love, this might be the right time to finally ask his friend about it. He was not exactly sure where this sudden confidence was coming from but it was now or never. He might never get the opportunity to ask Soonyoung again. This long repressed attraction would be the death of him.
“Jihoonie—”
“Soonyoung.” Jihoon cut him off, pinching and rubbing his ear, something he did unconsciously when feeling skittish. Slowly, he twisted his body to face his friend, posture stiff, hesitation radiating off of him.
"What about you? Do you...do you fancy anyone right now?”
Jihoon wished he could glance at Soonyoung without a mad blush rising on the apple of his cheeks but it was unpreventable given the circumstance he was in.
The latter remained quiet for a few minutes before closing the book, a wistful smile slipping up on his lips.
“Jeonghan hyung was right. You are dense as a rock.”
“Excuse me?” He was offended. "What does that even mean?”
“Should I repeat what I’ve said? You are dense as a rock—”
“Sod off. I heard you the first time. Like you are any better!” Jihoon hissed bitterly. How dare he talk like that when the other was completely oblivious about his feelings?
Standing up, Soonyoung just grinned at him, fondly ruffling his hair. He was too stunned to even swat his housemate’s hand away. “Forget it. I am sorry for cutting this short but I am hitting the sack.”
“But you haven’t answered my question.”
“Think about it, Jihoonie. Do you think I am harboring feelings for someone at the moment? Does someone come to mind? Anyone I am treating differently from the rest?”
Well, that was not helpful at all. Did that mean Soonyoung likes someone right now? But who? Could it be Seokmin? The fifth year Hufflepuff was indeed lovely, his smile rivaling the brightness of the sun. Definitely one of Jihoon’s favorite people (it was impossible to loathe him). The pair were always seen hanging out at the greenhouse—no one could beat their love for Herbology. A beautiful girl from Gryffindor he forgot the name of could also be one of the choices. She had never failed to shower him with bouts of affection, bringing him home cooked meals whenever she could back then (she had given Jihoon plenty of boxes of peanut butter cookies once as a way to show her gratitude for being a good friend to Soonyoung—who even does that?). Or could it be Wonwoo? Despite being polar opposites, the two were joined by the hip. They have been friends since diapers, both men coming from affluent Pureblood families. Wonwoo had always been protective of Soonyoung too, he noticed. He would defend his best friend against an army of dementors with a spoon if it came down to it. But did not Soonyoung insinuate that his best friend might possibly have feelings for Junhui?
Jihoon felt something sink in the pit of his stomach the more he thought about it. He remained immobile for a few minutes, almost resembling a statue.
He looked up only to see an unmistakable gleam of amusement in Soonyoung’s eyes.
“Why are you suddenly intrigued about my romantic trysts? Or the lack thereof.” Soonyoung demanded, taking a few steps toward Jihoon’s tense figure on the couch, much to his chagrin.
“I am just...curious? Yes, right! Curious.” Jihoon squawked. His friend raised a suspicious brow at that, surveying him with intense, calculating eyes. Sweat began dribbling down his forehead despite the coldness of the room, the green tie under his collar felt so tight. It was both a blessing and a curse that Soonyoung knew him better than anyone else. “Can I not be curious? I thought we were friends.”
He mentally congratulated himself for being able to keep his voice from wavering. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage as he waited for Soonyoung’s retort but instead, he was met with utter silence. The wizard’s face remained impassive as Jihoon started feeling antsy. Did he figure it all out? Did Soonyoung manage to see through his lies?
“You don't have to answer if you feel uncomfortable. I was curious, that’s all—”
Soonyoung chuckled, gently patting Jihoon’s head with the book he was holding to stop him from gabbling.
“And here I thought I was being obvious.”
Who knew those eight words would seal the deal? It was a stifling statement that conveyed so much. It was once more quiet, an achingly awkward five minutes elapsed before he finally decided to break the ice.
“You do like someone." Jihoon rasped. “Can I ask who?”
Soonyoung smiled. While certainly beautiful and soul-stirring, it was almost somber. It did not quite reach his eyes. Who was this person? Why does he look so sad? After Jihoon’s uncharacteristically tender inquiry, he at least deserved an answer, right? He needed to know if he had a chance—or if he should just let the strong ocean currents wash away these feelings and move on.
“Ask around. They know.”