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First week of a new year. The second years’ classrooms were all on the ground floor, but Yeosang found himself walking down the hallway of the second floor, passing the first years’ classrooms with the cream bun he had bought from the cafeteria. Unfamiliar eyes watched him with excited innocence, and he tried his best to pretend not to notice, only watching the floor before him as he headed towards the staircase up to the roof. Before he could reach it, a voice approached him.
“Excuse me.” A nervous girl was holding a bar of chocolate against her chest, her cheeks flushed, eyes trying to reach Yeosang’s but unable to. She pushed the chocolate bar towards Yeosang. “This is for you.”
Wooyoung had warned him yesterday when he took the chocolate bar from a different girl that he shouldn’t have, because that would just encourage them to give him more. Even worse, Yeosang didn’t want to give them false hope by being nice to them. So yea, maybe he shouldn’t have taken that chocolate bar yesterday. Yeosang hated it when Wooyoung was right.
“Sorry,” Yeosang smiled as kindly as he could without making it seem like he was letting the girl on; there was a fine line between the two, and he didn’t know if he was doing it right. “I don’t think I can take this. And tell your friends that I won’t be taking any more gifts, okay?”
He walked away, scratching his forehead slightly from anxiety driven habit, listening to the whispers around him, feeling a burden in his chest pulling him down but trying his best to conceal it. Social anxiety isn’t popular, he was sure of that.
The weather was starting to get warm as March rolled in and Yeosang appreciated the sunny wind that he felt as he opened the rooftop door. The usual group of friends were rowdy as they always were, sitting in a circle on the dusted cement floor, a picnic blanket that Yunho had bought for them laid beneath their crossed legs, their lunches gathered in the middle. Yeosang counted the heads; Yunho, Mingi, San, Wooyoung… and one extra?
Their faces turned towards Yeosang as they noticed his presence. Yeosang’s eyes widened as he recognized the fifth, ears turning red from the memory.
“Yeosang!” Wooyoung called loudly. “Come here! I wanna introduce you to someone.”
Yeosang didn’t want an introduction, if he was being frank, but he stepped forward, not wanting to make it obvious how much he didn’t want to be here. He sat between Wooyoung and Mingi, crossing his legs, trying not to make eye contact with the stranger with wide round eyes, button nose and pursed lips. Yeosang started to realize that the other was taller than himself, and that made Yeosang feel very insecure.
“Yeosang, this is Choi Jongho,” Wooyoung started. Great, a name for the face, Yeosang thought to himself. “He’s a first year, and we were friends back in junior high!”
“Nice to meet you,” Jongho smiled, teeth showing. Yeosang wanted to hit him.
“Same,” was all Yeosang could reply.
“He’s in the Basketball Club,” Wooyoung gushed. “So I guess you guys have something in common! Now you don’t have to go home alone after school.”
“Hmm,” Yeosang said. His eyes scattered down to the lunch boxes in front of him. “What did you guys bring today? The usual?”
The group fell silent for a moment. Jongho picked up an opened silver can and raised it, offering it to the older. “Do you like octopus?”
Yeosang caught his eyes and saw the childlike glee in Jongho’s face. He picked up a stray pair of chopsticks and took a piece of cut octopus from the can.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
The group assumed it as a peace offering and resumed their chatter, going on about their classes and new teachers and the asshole class president. Wooyoung decided to take over the Baking Club since their upperclassmen were less than interested in handling it, and renewed its brand to actual confectionary making. He even recruited some talented bakers who had made cookies and cupcakes for last year’s summer festival, promising all of them that he’d get funds so they’d be able to make more interesting stuff like pastries and puddings and souffles. San helped manage the club but left the baking part to Wooyoung, and Yunho and Mingi were less interested in school activities and more interested in hotboxing Mingi’s room, using ‘after school study time’ for less studying and more face sucking.
Yeosang knew that Wooyoung was excited to introduce Jongho to the group to even out their number; Yeosang couldn’t third wheel all of Mingi’s dates, no matter how much he loved pot, and he couldn’t join the Baking Club neither, due to his commitment to his team. It was considerate of Wooyoung, but Yeosang was slightly irritated that Jongho hadn’t mentioned his juvenile attempts to catch Yeosang’s attention yesterday at the first practice of the year. Then again, Yeosang would be too embarrassed to bring it up himself.
The first years were matched against each other for tryouts and Yeosang was watching the game from the bleachers with the rest of the second years, bored out of their minds. He watched as a boy jumped and dunked the ball into the basket, receiving some hoots from the crowd, and he turned and smiled, collecting celebratory slaps on the back from his teammates. In a moment, he looked up, and Yeosang thought he had imagined it, but they made eye contact, and the boy smiled at him, for what felt like a stretched out second before running back into position. It happened several more times throughout the match, confirming what Yeosang had seen, throwing cheeky grins at every triumphant hoop, and as he walked down to the court with the rest of his year, he swore, to whatever God or gods in the skies, that the boy winked at him from across the court. Yeosang hoped that his face wasn’t as red as it felt.
What’s worse was that Jongho had passed the tryouts. And now, he had invaded Yeosang’s friend group as well.
Yeosang was lucky that Yunho was in his class now, so when he saw that Jongho was waiting outside their classroom, he didn’t have to acknowledge his existence, and left the casualties to Yunho. He didn’t have to be friendly to Jongho just because he’s Wooyoung’s friend. And maybe he’s Yunho’s friend too now, the way he laughed at Jongho’s jokes and invited him to hang out with them at Mingi’s. Yeosang knew that Yunho had considered it the best way to hang out with Yeosang without making him feel left out, but what Yunho didn’t know was that Yeosang was breaking into a million pieces, wanting to drag himself back home and lock his body in his room and never come out. Jongho gave a quick glance at Yeosang before agreeing to go.
“You’re going to break his innocence just like that, Yunho?” Yeosang asked with bitterness in his voice. He then sent a poisonous glare at Jongho. “We do hard drugs and have orgys after school for fun. You still wanna join?”
Jongho smirked, amused. “Sounds fun.”
“We don’t do that,” Yunho panicked, looking around to see if anyone heard. “It’s just fun weed.”
“What about you and Mingi-”
“Yeosang’s exaggerating.”
Jongho changed the topic, asking if they could get snacks on the way and telling them that he knows a place that makes great hotteok. Yeosang kept quiet on their bus ride to Mingi’s apartment, watching as his friends gained interest in the younger’s wit and humor, and throughout he would give Yeosang small smiles that Yeosang would reply with a quiet glare, lips tight. In Mingi’s apartment, the lanky boy volunteered to roll their blunt as he usually did. He made a grandiose deal about it too, and Yunho fed him compliments about his slick hand movements to quiet him down, giving him a quick kiss to sweeten the intentions. Yeosang rolled his eyes before quickly remembering that he wasn’t alone to witness this, catching Jongho’s eyes real quick before looking away.
“You don’t have to pretend you don’t like me,” Jongho smirked.
“I don’t know you,” Yeosang said quietly.
“Well, what do you wanna know?”
Yeosang kept quiet and accepted the blunt that Yunho offered after taking a hit from it. He inhaled, letting the smoke fill his lungs and the heat rush through his blood before passing the blunt to Jongho, exhaling grey clouds. Jongho watched Yeosang as he took a hit of his own, showing his experience. Yeosang felt himself turn red as he realized that Jongho had indirectly touched his lips, and looked away before Jongho could guess what had crossed his mind.
“You smoke,” Yeosang inferred.
“How can you tell?” Jongho smirked.
“So you’re not amateurs like Wooyoung, San and Yunho were back when they were first years.”
“No, I think I mixed with the wrong group of people when Wooyoung left,” Jongho sighed. “But I guess he found a similar crowd.”
“They’re trying to stay sober, him and San.” Yeosang asked for the blunt but Yunho stole it from his fingers before he could take a hit.
“Pace yourself,” he warned before locking the blunt between his lips, not taking a hit before falling back into Mingi’s embrace, whispering secrets that only the two of them know. Yeosang rolled his eyes again.
“Well I don’t mind smoking blunts with you,” Jongho told Yeosang, his voice low and careful so only the two of them could hear him.
“Okay, you gotta stop that,” Yeosang sighed. “This has been going on since yesterday. What do you want from me?”
Jongho fell quiet before giggling endlessly. “You’re really cute, do you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
“Okay well, I hope you don’t get freaked out if I tell you that I’m trying to flirt with you.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
Jongho bursted into laughter, falling on the floor as he clutched his sides.
“ Because ,” Jongho said between giggles. “You’re cute.”
Yeosang wiped his greased face with his palm, biting his lower lip before a giggle escaped his mouth. He felt his face turn hot, but he didn’t bother, his shoulders starting to shake as he chuckled along.
“Why would you flirt with someone just because of how they look? That’s pretty shallow, don’t you think?”
“Any simple minded kid would flirt with the prettiest boy he’d ever seen,” Jongho retaliated, sitting up with the sweet smile that Yeosang couldn’t stand. “You wouldn’t do that?”
“Hell no,” Yeosang replied, suddenly reminded of his mild social anxiety. Why interact with anyone without reason? All he would do is embarrass himself. He paused for a moment before continuing. “What if he didn’t like me?”
“Well, I’m pretty confident that you’ll like me ,” Jongho smirked. Yeosang didn’t doubt that one bit. What he worried about was if Jongho would like him , once he knew Yeosang better.
The next day, Yeosang saw the younger walk into the locker room after school to change for practice. When he was done changing himself, he dragged his feet to see where Jongho was, staring at him from afar when he found him two walls of lockers away. Jongho had thicker arms than Yeosang, and he didn’t know if what he felt was jealousy or awe.
“I thought I was supposed to be the creepy one,” Jongho said before turning towards Yeosang.
“Was just waiting for you to finish,” Yeosang said nonchalantly, hiding his nerves. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that there’s hierarchy in the club and since there’s so many of us we probably won’t be in the same matches often so let’s not act too friendly during practice, okay?”
Yeosang was wrong, and they found each other in both practice matches they had that day; in the same team for the first and in different ones for the second. On the same side they worked as well as they could, matched with random players that Yeosang had played with only a few times. Jongho knew the other first year in their team and that distracted him enough from Yeosang. During the second match, Yeosang tried his best to not think about how Jongho’s shirt was sticking to his chest, or how his hair was wet with sweat, and how handsome he looked when he was focused on the game. Jongho wasn’t just a good player, he was intimidating . Yeosang pinched the space between his eyebrows, trying his best to focus on the game.
As the whistle blew, Yeosang watched the ball being passed to their forward, moving towards their basket to find an unguarded spot. Just as he stopped to receive the ball, he felt Jongho’s presence on his side, his hand coming into view to stop the ball from reaching Yeosang’s palms. His heart pounded in his chest, realizing what had just happened. Jongho made him nervous, and on several accounts his jumps fell short by just an inch, or he hesitated and cost their team’s hold on the ball. Near the end of the match when he realized that his team was losing, he tried his best to stay on the sidelines so he wouldn’t drag his team down. Only, Jongho still neared him, guarding him for no reason, and throwing him playful smirks before going off to guard another player. Yeosang didn’t know if he wanted to punch the boy or kiss him senseless.
“I told you to not be friendly,” Yeosang growled as he dried his washed hair in front of the boy in the locker room.
“I was just playing the game,” Jongho defended himself, eyes round in innocence. He too had just showered and dressed, ready to go home.
“ Of course you were,” Yeosang practically yelled before slamming the towel on the wall of lockers, his own shoulders raising in shock from the sound that echoed throughout the room. He walked away so Jongho couldn’t say anything more, then threw the towel in a netted bag and tied it on his backpack. His eyebrows furrowed and lips twisted as he packed his things, ignoring the quiet moment that followed his burst of anger, sweat forming on his neck from the loud sound that he had created himself. He didn’t realize that Jongho had approached him from behind and jumped when the younger tapped his shoulder. “Oh my god , what do you want ?”
“Let’s walk home together.”
“No!”
Yeosang didn’t say anything more, even when Jongho followed him despite his rejection. As they walked further away from the school compound, Jongho quickened his pace to catch up with Yeosang, then followed the older’s tempo as he walked next to him.
“Can we stop by somewhere for snacks? I’m hungry.”
Yeosang didn’t reply, but when Jongho stopped at a stall to buy some fishcakes, he waited quietly, watching as the younger gorge them.
“Do you want one?” Jongho offered, holding out one of the skewered fishcakes. Yeosang accepted, feeling his stomach begging for it, swallowing the saliva that had collected in his mouth before taking a bite. Jongho finished his buy and they walked away from the stall, their pace slower than before. “Now I feel like eating some ramyeon. Let’s go get some.”
“Jongho,” Yeosang finally sighed. He didn’t continue, because he didn’t know what he wanted to say. He felt burdened, but it’s not because he didn’t like the boy. He just didn’t want to go through the process of explaining what being involved with Yeosang meant, not again. Not after what had happened to his closest friends, and how it all started with a simple joke that he made. He still couldn’t forgive himself for it.
“You have that look on your face,” Jongho said. “My mom always wears it when she has bad news to tell me. Don’t say it. You don’t like boys. Is that it?”
Yeosang didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.
“I guess Wooyoung didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Wooyoung and I dated for a while.”
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell me Wooyoung turned you into a het.”
Yeosang couldn’t help but laugh. He wiped away tears that had formed on his eyelids. “I think we’ve found some common ground.”
“Oh yea?”
“Yea,” Yeosang smiled. “Teasing Wooyoung was my specialty, but looks like you’ve got a better talent at it.”
Jongho smirked. “We could tease him together. The teasing couple. What do you say?”
Yeosang’s expression fell again.
“Oh, right. I haven’t heard the bad news yet.”
“ I’m the bad news,” Yeosang smiled somberly. “You don’t want to know me. I’ll just bring you trouble.”
Jongho shrugged. “I like trouble.”
Yeosang shook his head. “Just give me some space, okay?”
“Tell me this before I do that,” Jongho replied. “Do I have any chance at all?”
‘Don’t take the chocolate, it’ll just give them hope.’
Yeosang hesitated.
“Because I can take trouble. I think I’ve met some seriously damaged kids before, and I don’t think you’re anything like them.”
Oh, I’m damaged alright.
Yeosang remembered the road they were taking from the night before when Yunho and Mingi sent them home to make sure everyone arrived safely. Maybe his friend group was just a tiny bit paranoid, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, after everything that happened. They were nearing the junction that Jongho had to turn to reach his home, and Yeosang took the chance to bail.
“Look, I’m not asking for space for your sake. I’m asking for it for mine.”
“Does that mean-”
“I’ll see you later.” Yeosang crossed the junction, knowing Jongho wouldn’t follow him; instead he’d make his turn and go home, tired from practice. When Jongho did exactly that, Yeosang sighed with relief. At least that’s one less boy willing to do anything for Yeosang’s sake.
The next day, Jongho didn’t join them for lunch.
“Said he’s hanging out with his classmates,” Wooyoung explained. “Yeosang, you didn’t chase him away did you?”
A sense of guilt ate at Yeosang.
“Of course not.” He didn’t say anything else, stuffing himself with his friends’ food. They let the boy eat his feelings out, moving on to other topics. Yeosang didn’t see Jongho until practice the day after. He went to meet the younger at his locker.
“Hey,” he started, leaving a bit of space between them. Jongho looked up, then went back to tying his shoelaces.
“Hey.”
“So um, I guess I should’ve said this before but, you can join us for lunch and stuff, I don’t mind that. I think Wooyoung wants you around anyway.”
Jongho paused and looked up again. “ Wooyoung wants me around?”
Yeosang kept quiet, then walked away. He said what he wanted to say.
Friday practices were short, and they only played one match. Yeosang didn’t play on the same court as Jongho, and he was relieved. As he was about to leave for home, he saw Wooyoung standing by the locker room door, face somber.
“Hey,” Yeosang called, approaching him. “You’re not home yet?”
“Nah, was cleaning some stuff in the kitchen,” he explained softly. “Can we talk?”
At the school courtyard, Yeosang picked up pebbles from the landscaping and threw them towards the side of the grass field. Wooyoung watched from the bench he was sitting on, observing the calluses on Yeosang’s fingers.
“I wanted to ask you,” Wooyoung started, voice low even though the courtyard was empty with the exception of two students playing ball. “You don’t like Jongho very much, do you?”
Yeosang tightened his lips. He knew Wooyoung wanted to bring this up, but he couldn’t escape Wooyoung’s confrontation even if he wanted to. Knowing Wooyoung, he’d probably chase Yeosang through the weekend to get some answers. He gathered a few pebbles and arranged them in a circle by his crossed feet.
“That’s not it,” Yeosang said softly.
“Then why weren’t you guys talking during practice? I thought we were all friends now.”
“Were you watching us?”
“Not really… Okay yea, kinda. But I think you shouldn’t be mad at me for it, since it’s the only way I can tell what’s going on between you two.”
“There’s nothing going on between us,” Yeosang chuckled.
“Then why has he been so distant lately?”
“Because I told him to give me space.”
“You what?”
Yeosang sighed, then looked up at the other. “Jongho’s been… I don’t know, pinning on me or something, and I guess I told him to back off, one way or another.”
“Yeosang!” Wooyoung exclaimed, trying his best to not yell, knowing how Yeosang felt about that. “You did what ?”
“I wasn’t mean to him about it, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Yeosang said.
“No, what I’m thinking is that I wanted him to be around so you’d have a friend but instead you pushed him away.”
Right.
“So there is something going on between the two of you,” Wooyoung concluded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m supposed to tell you that a boy is head over heels with me?”
“Well, do you like him back?”
Yeosang kept quiet.
“You do !”
“Wooyoung, I’d be crazy if I didn’t like his cute little ass.”
“Then why did you tell him to back off?”
Yeosang started to feel uneasy, like he usually does when Wooyoung pestered.
“Because he comes on too strong?”
“Because if he knew the real me, he wouldn’t like me anymore.”
Wooyoung fell silent. He fidgeted with the strap of his backpack, wondering to himself what made Yeosang think that way, wondered if he was part of the reason, wondered if there was anything he could do or say to help. But in the end, how Yeosang lived his life would be his own choice anyway.
“I’ll only say this,” Wooyoung finally said. “Jongho isn’t like me. He won’t be pinning for you for long once he realizes he’s wasting his time. But once he’s in, he’s not leaving.”
Yeosang thought about how intense Jongho looked when he was focused. He hated when Wooyoung was right, and he had a feeling he was right about this too.
Come Monday, Yeosang was walking down the second floor hallway when he made eye contact with Jongho before the younger looked away, going back into his classroom. It used to be Wooyoung’s and San’s classroom, but Yeosang didn’t have any memories of being in it. Yeosang pretended he didn’t see the other and went upstairs, already knowing Wooyoung was going to give him a death glare for being the reason Jongho wasn’t around. Yeosang felt miserable too; from constantly being given attention to not getting any at all. Jongho’s pursuits were overwhelming, but now that he wasn’t there, he felt void. The missing distraction gave Yeosang some time to rethink things during practice; what Jongho had said, what he had said to Jongho, what Wooyoung had told him, and what Yeosang decided to do next. As he shoots and the ball falls through the basket, he glanced towards where he knew Jongho was watching on the side of the court. Jongho pupils scattered elsewhere, then went back to Yeosang. The older offered a soft smile, and warmth bloomed in Jongho’s chest, spiralling and running through his veins, rushing to his spine, making him exhale the breath that he had been holding.
“You’re not very stealthy, ya know?” Jongho told the older as he pulled on a t-shirt that he had retrieved from his locker. Yeosang stepped away from the side of the wall of lockers and approached Jongho.
“Let’s go get ramyeon.”
The two had slurped a good amount of noodles when Yeosang paused to wipe his mouth with a napkin. Hunger came inevitably after a long practice, and Yeosang knew his dad would still be cooking at this time, so he indulged in the cheap warmth. Their standing table leaned against the windowed wall of the convenience store, overlooking the narrow road outside. White flower petals scattered against the black tar like thin snow, pulling Yeosang into a daze before remembering Jongho’s presence.
“Spring’s nice,” Jongho said.
“Yea.” Yeosang didn’t know where to start, but he knew that he wanted to tell Jongho about his past, and that he’d let Jongho decide from there. He scratched his temple where his birthmark was; another anxiety driven habit. “So uh. I have something to tell you.”
Jongho put his chopsticks down, chewing on his noodles. He didn’t turn towards Yeosang, but instead stared out the window. “Okay.”
“Have you ever heard of PTSD?”
“You mean the one that you have?”
Yeosang’s eyes widened.
“Wooyoung told me. Well, I asked him.”
“How-”
Jongho grinned, finally looking at Yeosang. “The coach keeps looking at you whenever the hall gets a bit loud. And a lot of kids your year are a lot quieter than the others in the club, but they’re just as noisy as everyone else when you’re not around. So I got curious.”
Yeosang looked away, his lips turned down as he touched his forehead with the tip of his fingertips, feeling frustrated. The quiet whispers, the lowered voices; of course they do it for him, but every time it happened he felt like he was being isolated, even when they meant no harm. In the end it was easier to pretend that everyone was just talking softly, and it wasn’t for any other reason pertaining his trauma, completely unrelated to his prescribed medication and his dead mother, a whole different world to the one that he tried to hide from people around him, but continued to fail. Maybe Yeosang wanted to think that he could’ve dated Jongho without him ever knowing about it, or maybe a part of him knew that Jongho would find out one way or another. Honestly, he couldn’t bear the thought of even telling Jongho in the first place; to retell the tale, to go through his triggers again, to take deep breaths and swallow his nightmares away in between his explanation. And his worst fear was imagining what Jongho’s reaction would be.
But Jongho already knew, and here he was.
“I told you I knew some pretty damaged kids,” Jongho smiled. “But none of them were both damaged and pretty.”
Yeosang took a bite of his sausage in response.
“So, since we can skip the hard part,” Jongho sighed, mixing his noodles in the plastic bowl. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“I like you.”
Jongho stopped mixing, then continued, biting back a smile. The silent moment that passed killed Yeosang.
“If you still like me too…” he breathed, trying to control his nerves. “Do you want to go out with me?”
Jongho took Yeosang’s sausage from the table, smiling as his eyes met Yeosang’s.
“Does that mean lots of trouble and emotional turbulence?”
“And possibly getting arrested. That too.” Yeosang smiled back. “You game?”
The younger bit into the snack, glee filling his eyes. Yeosang wanted to kiss him senseless yet again, but the indirect touch of their lips was already satisfying to him.
“I’m game.”