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It had started, truthfully, as a matter of circumstance.
A group of boys scattered around the school and an empty, inviting lunch table.
That is, as inviting as a school cafeteria table can be.
At the very beginning, it had been Jeong Jaebeom and Jeong Jaebeom alone, seated with an entire table (that happened to stretch the length of the entire cafeteria) all to himself.
The other boys at school have never been particularly kind to Jaebeom.
The world has never been particularly kind to Jaebeom.
But he is nice, as people go.
Which is probably why, a day later (and a day after the new school year started), the boy was joined by one of the new kids. A small, energetic thing named Chu Jimin.
It was slow, but it was something. Every now and then, a new boy would pop up in one of those seats, and they would be the subject of perhaps a single whisper or two before the school collectively forgot.
It was Kim Taeyong next, and then came Noh Sungcheol, and then Jo Kyungmin, but what really did it was Kim Sunoo.
The second Kim Sunoo took his place next to an unsuspecting Taeyong, the student body just about exploded.
Even in an all-boys school, Sunoo is treated as royalty. He’s kind, and smart, and gorgeous, so why wouldn’t be be? The boy doesn’t know it, of course, but he should have been able to tell, what with the way people started flocking to the once empty table after he had taken his place there.
People tended to take their lunches in the library, or on the patio, for the most part. Sure, a few people here and there would occupy the tables in the caf, and the teaching assistant(s) would most certainly do the same, but anyone who was anyone wouldn’t be caught dead in that damn lunchroom.
Until then, of course.
After Sunoo came the equally shocking arrival of Shim Jake, the Australian transfer.
And that really did it. The order of people joining after that was a little blurry, but so many boys had taken their places at that table so quickly.
That wasn’t to say that the table group was ‘open’, per se. They were a little intimidating, a little exclusive. All of the boys who joined were confident enough to do so. It was, by extension, a test of sorts.
You sit down, you pass. You’re royalty.
You don’t? Well, you don’t.
Which is why it was a little surprising when freshmen started popping up to join them, starting with American child prodigy Kim Daniel.
But of course, it didn’t stop there.
Lee Heeseung and his tight knit group were some of the last to join in the fun, having grown tired of their little corner in the library.
Heeseung supposes he was popular, or at the very least intimidating. Well, he supposes he still is, if the slightly scared, slightly awed looks he gets from freshmen and seniors alike are any indication.
He has friends, a small clique-type thing. Exclusive, he supposes, but Heeseung isn’t ashamed of it either, since confidence seems to be something that significantly boosts social status at this damn school.
Still, way back then at the start of the year, it had actually been Sunghoon’s idea to move. No one had protested, bored of the dusty fucking library.
After all, Heeseung had figured, what was the worst that could happen?
(Many things did, in fact, happen. Some were horrible, some were remarkable. But what mattered the most is that taking his place at that lunch table ended up impacting Heeseung a lot more than he’d thought it would.)
More people did join after them, and the flow of people truly only stopped after two whole weeks.
The semester had all but flown by, with lunch hours spent spreading tales heard through the grapevine and chatting harmlessly.
As Heeseung got to know each and every member of their (not very) little group, he couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that they were becoming friends .
They were all becoming friends, growing close to people that they would have never imagined themselves interacting with.
Upperclassmen and underclassmen alike sat together, escaping their worries for a short block of time every day.
Yes, yes. It was all very sweet, but to this day, the phrase “friend group” seems too specific, too intimate a term to describe them. Then again, Heeseung has never truly heard of a group of around 20 boys sitting around the same table every day and sharing gossip as strangers to one another.
The new semester is starting, and the boys at the school are finding themselves greeted after a short spring break by an extremely small wave of exchange students.
To Heeseung’s knowledge, the three of them seem nice enough. There’s a single foreign teaching assistant as well, and saying that he’s the talk of the school is quite the understatement.
Everyone knows Choi Seon, perpetually stressed out but nice enough, and even nicer to look at.
The other assistants had graduated from their respective intern phases and moved on just in time for Seon to be joined by an even more stressed looking Kei, a Japanese transfer.
A large portion of the student body (including the heterosexual part) is swooning over the boy— Heeseung has never quite seen the appeal and pities Kei more than anything. His younger brother, Taki, was almost taken in as a son by a few members of the table group, and the small boy seems content to sit by the end of their table with his seemingly endless supply of juice boxes.
There are two other exchange students that Heeseung knows of—an extremely unapproachable freshman from Japan who no one except Taki truly seems to be brave enough to talk to (“Niki’s great once you get to know him!”). And then there’s the Vietnamese one, who was apparently in a K-Pop dance cover group.
Nice enough, Heeseung thinks.
It’s a warm day outside, and the air conditioned cafeteria is quite a blessing.
Heeseung looks down the table at Nicholas and Taki, talking animatedly, and he can’t help feeling something akin to motherly affection.
Gross.
He changes the subject quickly, addressing Sunghoon. The other boy happens to be sitting across from him, engaged in a book.
“I’m gonna be honest for a second here.” Heeseung starts, glancing at his nails.
Sunghoon blinks.
“Just between us, Hanbin smells a little fruity.”
Taki looks up from some distance down the table, eyebrows furrowed as he halts in his conversation with Nicholas and his absentminded playing with one of those magical juice boxes. “You’ve smelled Hanbin hyung?”
“Taki, it’s not polite to eavesdrop.” Kei materializes behind his younger brother, shooting apologetic looks at the group further down the table.
“Oh— sorry!” Taki smiles hesitantly, crushing up his empty juice box with one hand and bowing his head slightly.
Kei gives him a single nod and then vanishes again.
Geonu adjusts his glasses, looking up from his textbook (He’s studying for a test at least a month beforehand, Heeseung is sure of it). He stares boredly at Heeseung from his place beside Sunghoon. “It’s not right to assume these things, you guys know that. You’ve probably talked to the boy, like, once. Let him live.”
Heeseung snorts. “You’re just saying that because your gaydar is wack.”
Geonu only rolls his eyes, disappearing behind the textbook again.
Sunghoon watches this with stealthily disguised interest.
“You’re not going to disagree with me, are you?” Heeseung all but whines.
Sunghoon does not reply, for his gaze has traveled somewhere else. Heeseung doesn’t even have to look, the blank-but-still-conveying-more-emotion-than-Heeseung-has-ever-felt-in-his-life expression on Sunghoon’s face serving as explanation enough.
“Sunghoonie, darling, what are you going do to if he looks at you?”
The boy doesn’t even blink. He’s too focused on staring like an idiot at Shim fucking Jake, and Heeseung knows all too well what’s going on.
If he looks a little farther to his left, he’ll no doubt see Sunoo staring at Sunghoon with the same sort of dumb look, and Jaebeom staring at Sunoo, and lord knows who Heeseung will find staring at Jaebeom.
If they don’t figure out what the hell is going on, and soon, Heeseung might need to get involved.
Heeseung sure as hell doesn’t want that, he thinks as he glances back down at his perfectly manicured nails.
Straight facts for a second: Lee Heeseung knows everything about everyone (“It’s why your ears are so big,” Jay had joked, promptly shutting up when half the table turned to glare at him).
He’s a little arrogant, a little cocky, but there’s nothing wrong with that.
Lee Heeseung is respected.
Lee Heeseung is respected , he reminds himself when Euijoo wordlessly walks up behind him and dumps the contents of his water bottle on his head.
“Why did you do that?” Heeseung sputters, shaking out his wet hair like a dog.
“Yoonwon dared me.” Euijoo replies easily, but the grin on his face says otherwise.
Heeseung blinks, hair still dripping water onto his shirt. “I’ll kill you.” He hisses.
“Do it!” Jimin calls, hands cupped around his mouth to project across the table. “Do it, coward!”
Euijoo shrugs, smile not wavering.
“You think that twig could kill anyone?” Geonu scoffs. “Please.”
Jaeho grins. “It’s empty threats, all of it!”
Heeseung gapes at him. “You guys are so mean to me, my god. I need new friends.”
“You’re lucky we put up with you!” Jungwon calls, popping up from behind Jimin.
Jay walks up and abruptly drops a paper towel on Heeseung’s head. “You’ll get sick.”
“And who’s fault is that?”
There’s a short pause.
“Sungcheol’s.”
“What did I do?!”
“When in doubt, blame Sungcheol.”
“Hey!”
“Shut up, Youngbin!”
Heeseung sighs as their weekly screaming match ensues, locking eyes with the pair of TA’s a few feet away.
This, whatever it was, may have started by circumstance, but Heeseung is sure he’ll never be able to leave.
Quite honestly, he thinks, letting the paper towel fall off his head (and watching with a slight smile as Jungwon proceeds to skid across the tile floor after stepping on it) Heeseung doesn’t find anything wrong with that.