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The first piece of advice Inseong had given him when he first started university, was to always have a snack on hand.
Why?
Because you never knew when you were going to be hungry.
Hwiyoung has a lot of solid evidence that the idea is useless.
He doesn’t have any classes starting before 10. There’s a solid hour break at the very least between his classes (thanks for the tip, Rowoon). He’s really only in university for like, maximum four hours in a day.
So, he usually only ends up eating it out of boredom on the walk home. It makes the point of the snack a little redundant, but he still does it anyway because he loves his eldest cousin.
Today, he struggles to keep his attention on the lecturer droning on at the front of the hall, when his eyes continue to wander to the boy just beyond his peripheral vision.
Sitting two seats over is Kang Chanhee; also known as Chani, or the cute boy Hwiyoung has been crushing on for weeks now.
They still haven’t said a word to each other, but there’s a feeling that you know, he’s The One .
Dramatic? Yes. Very much so.
But does Hwiyoung want him? Yes. Yes, he does. (So bad.)
Ever since the first time he’d laid eyes on the slightly shorter male, he knew he was doomed. There was just something about him, jer nay say qua , or whatever that French phrase is. Hwiyoung’s not a linguistics major for a reason.
They’d first crossed paths at the start of the second semester. He had been running late for the bus, and he was literally running for the bus. The last person queuing to go up to the bus must’ve spotted him because he paused in his step and seemed to say something to the driver.
It bought Hwiyoung just enough time to reach the bus and board it, and his heart had been snatched from his chest that fateful day. And he hadn’t even managed to find out the stranger’s name until a week later, because every damn person seemed to be talking about the guy.
Chani, famous for seemingly just… existing. It seemed wherever he went, he had a few fangirls hovering in the background, and a little horde of friends around him, strangely enough mostly third- and fourth-years (including Rowoon, like WTF? Why had his brother not bothered to introduce him to the love of his life?). But he was also involved in some well-known clubs, so that could be the reason why.
Regardless, Hwiyoung is oddly grateful to Inseong, as if the Fates had aligned perfectly to teach him a lesson that doing things that feel like they have no meaning may, in fact, be preparing you for the biggest moment of your life.
Chani’s stomach growls slightly.
“Um-”
Hwiyoung’s voice comes out so quiet it’s barely a breath. Shaking his head, he tries again.
“Hey.”
This time it’s too loud, and it catches the attention of the people in front of him, but they turn around when they see there’s nothing interesting. Chani tilts his head curiously towards him.
“Hey? It’s uh, Hwiyoung, right?” He seems to blush in sudden realisation. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten today.”
“That’s not good,” Hwiyoung says, eyes wide. He’s more surprised Chani knows his name. His name! It takes him some time to fumble around in his bag after the shock. He eventually pulls out the blueberry muffin neatly packaged in a brown paper bag and leans over the two chairs separating him and Chani. It’s a bit of a stretch, very painful to maintain. Would not recommend. But he persists through the discomfort to hold it out to his crush. “You can have this.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
A slow smile curls onto Chani’s lips, and Hwiyoung is probably more grateful to the pretty sight than Chani is for the food.
He reaches over the chairs as well, bringing them nearly face to face.
Chani is so much prettier than he should be allowed to be, Hwiyoung thinks, especially when you can see him up close, the crinkle around his eyes when he smiles-
“Can the two boys at the back please save their flirting for after class?”
Hwiyoung jumps away, absolutely mortified at being called out by the professor.
He also startles himself again, because he bumps his hip against the tables built into the chairs and it hurts like hell. He hates those things. Totally useless. They were too small to actually put anything on and they caused too many injuries. Maybe he could petition to Youngbin to get them to remove all swivel tables. Not that it was likely, considering the Student Council probably had more ‘important’ things to worry about.
“Thank you,” the professor doesn’t even try to hide her grin when she continues to lecture, “As I was saying about the-”
Chani whispers across the seats, “I’ll need your number, I have to pay you back somehow.”
“You can, with a date,” he replies in a rare moment of bravery. It’s gone in an instant and he flushes, biting his lip. “Unless you don’t want to, of course. No pressure.”
“Sweet.” Chani nods and slides a piece of paper across to him. “I’ll still need your number for that though.”
Hwiyoung can feel the tips of his ears burn. They must be so red by now, but he takes the paper as coolly as he can, as if his pulse isn’t thrumming through his fingers. His hand definitely doesn’t shake as he scribbles his number down, or even when he returns the paper to Chani.
After the moment of contact, when their fingers brush against each other, their hands linger slightly.
There’s a flash of the grin that’s come to quicken his heartbeat.
Hwiyoung absolutely refuses to acknowledge his desire to squeal like a schoolgirl crushing on the popular boy. (Although he is… technically crushing on a popular boy.)
“Well, I’ll talk to you after class, Hwi.”
And after that nickname, he’s too stunned to pay attention to the rest of the lecture.