Work Text:
Week 0, Friday, 4:32pm
Jisung knew that people would look at him like he was crazy if he told them that it’s his first time to step foot in their high school’s library that smelled of aging wood and biblichor, so he decided to keep that piece of information to himself. He also chose to shut up about how he developed a dislike for books or anything of the sort when he hit adolescence. His parents, who are part of a 'smart parenting' group that meet up and talk- more like brag, honestly- about their children’s academic achievements (like in that one K-drama Jisung watches but is yet to finish), always pushed him to read one book after the other. Kids his age would be running around the playground, screaming their heads off and crying over wounds and bruises, while Jisung would bask in the silence of their classroom, finishing a chapter or two of his book, and use the random drawings on ripped paper he always found on his table as bookmarks. Those random pieces of paper spawned on his desk until middle school, but years of trying to look for the mystery artist led to nothing. It would've been okay if the stupid routine ended there, but he was forced to make book reports afterwards. The more accomplished reports that piled up in his father's study, the more miserable Jisung got. The amount of books he’s read until he reached 3rd year middle school made him sick of seeing a single one of them. He’s seen enough books to last him a lifetime or two thank you very much.
Now, as one of the two student librarians of their high school library, he cannot pretend to not see a single one of those demons that filled his 17 years with knowledge and dread.
The junior sighed for the umpteenth time during his shift as he ran his calloused fingers through his dirty blonde hair, dry from all the dyeing it’s been through. Living in the dorms away from your strict parents gave you ultimate freedom so might as well take advantage of that as much as possible. His hair and his textbooks collecting dust under his bed are living proofs of that. Teachers barely let them use those books anyway, and when they do his trusty seatmate Kim Seungmin always shared his (after much grumbling, scolding, and sometimes asking for a favor so that Jisung can distract his boyfriend Hyunjin while he’s preparing a cheesy sickening surprise/date for him).
Time passed oh so painfully slow for Jisung that he wanted to cry. He considered doing so ten minutes ago, to beg on his knees in front of the guidance counselor who gave him such a harsh punishment for someone who wasn’t proven guilty of vandalizing the school walls. Maybe if he caused a scene she would take pity in him and set him free from this book prison and let him slide…but that was if he were a main character in a story where everything turns his way because of emotional manipulation.
Life’s a bitch. Jisung wished for life stubs their toe and steps on legos for making him suffer.
"It’s not that bad," Felix, the other half of the student librarian duo and his childhood friend, sat on the wooden counter with a big goofy grin plastered on his face. "Sorting out books is fun, therapeutic, and unleashes your creativity."
Unlike Jisung, Felix had nothing against books. He lived a okay childhood because though his parents were part of the BrainFart Club (A code name the two invented one day when they were seven, as the cringy name suggested. It just happened when they dissed the club literally in front of the members, blocking out the heated debate about some novel they were too young to understand.), his natural intelligence saved him from drowning in books. Jisung never tried hiding how jealous he was. In fact, it even came to the point where they had a huge fight that almost escalated into a fistfight at the age of 12. It was resolved three days after with tubs of ice cream, Wii, and tissue boxes in Jisung’s bedroom.
Jisung snorted, though uneasy with the 'creative' part of sorting books because God knows what his friend did to the shelves. "Please tell me you followed the sections and aisle letters."
"What sections?"
"The color coding sections."
"That’s exactly what I did! Color coding!" Felix beamed proudly. The murky library was suddenly too bright for four-thirty in the afternoon.
Jisung stared at him suspiciously, the tiny Han Jisung that dwelled in his brain telling him no, he did not do the correct color coding because he was too distracted with his crush wearing a muscle tee when he stood a few feet behind their librarian who was explaining how the books were sorted. He honestly can’t blame Felix, though. Those were some impressive guns.
"I’m going to go check what you did," Jisung lazily got up from his seat, chair scraping against the floor which earned him glares from nearby students. "All you did in the orientation was take in the sight of the ch-arms."
Felix kick Jisung on the shin before sitting on the now-unoccupied chair with a huff. "Leave peasant."
Jisung ran away- yes, ran- away from the flustered teen before he can spout more things that might embarrass him in front of the sophomore who was ready to check out 5 books way thicker than Jisung’s legs. The whole place felt like a maze- and Jisung hated mazes. The looming shelves, cramped spaces, and endless books were making his head spin.
(Jisung was 6 years old when they first put him in 'The Maze', a name they gave for their huge garden with high bushes that blocked his sight of the exit. Every time his parents would see him slacking off, they would send him exactly on the center where the tiny gazebo was, away from any distractions. Although the place was beautiful and suited for peaceful alone time, it left a bitter feeling in the boy because it was always associated with his incompetence.)
He stumbled a bit while climbing up the second floor, almost rolling down the stairs and causing another scene. With hurried (and careful) steps, Jisung makes his way to the shelves Felix told him he 'fixed'; his platform boots heavy against the newly-polished floor. Jisung wondered if he’ll ever be in good terms with books, it was always a battlefield in his head when he thought about it. A part of him says his reason is too 'petty' for him to hate books, but the other says that it’s completely valid because books brought hell on earth during his childhood, and it was a form of rebellion against his controlling parents.
Yep. A war that Jisung rather not resolve.
He almost dropped to his knees and sobbed when he saw what kind of color coding Felix did. Rainbows. All he saw on the shelves were rainbows. They were grouped according to color and arranged in a rainbow-like manner.
Color-coded. He isn’t wrong, but he isn’t right either.
Jisung felt his eye twitch. HIs freckled friend had projected himself into the shelves. As loud and proud he is of his gender, this was definitely not the place or the activity to do so. As much as it would be good for Jisung's sanity to give Felix a piece of his mind, he didn't have the heart to get mad at his friend, no. Something shifted after their 3-day fight that Jisung never got mad at Felix ever again, even if he did the stupidest of things (Jisung thought it’s because he was also doing the stupid things most of the time too, but that’s something to unpack next time). With a pained laugh, he pulled out the book cart from the corner of the last shelf and started rearranging the books. Relief washed over him when he saw that the freckled-boy considered arranging them in a somewhat alphabetical order
Deep into his work, Jisung did not notice how he started to unconsciously hum a song he, Changbin, and Chan were working on. One whole verse was missing, and it was driving Jisung mad. His eyebrows unconsciously furrowed and lips turned into a pout while he roughly pulled out books from shelves and shoved the correct ones in.
Thud
"What the-!" Jisung managed to contain the curse he badly wanted to let out because that scared him shitless. Gravity also chose violence and decided to be violent against him, the thick English literature compilation falling directly on his foot. He choked on his words when he saw the fallen Chemistry book in front of white converse with wrinkly face doodles and poorly-drawn unidentified creatures.
Mr. Doodle Sneakers was squatting, fucking squatting with those leather jeans and Jisung felt blood rush immediately on his swelling cheeks (and maybe somewhere south) as he internally cursed Casual Clothes Friday even if it benefitted him and his lazy dormer ass. His brown hair was messy, but for some reason it added extra charm to this guy and not like he had a fight with a chicken.
Jisung felt like the wind was knocked off his lungs when the boy stood up. He was a few inches taller, shoulders broader than Jisung’s and overall buffer than the junior. He carried some kind of confidence that made Jisung want to shrink, but Jisung internally screamedas he should because no way was he going to walk around the school with a face that gorgeous and confidence lower than the level haters stoop down to.
Straight out of Da Vinci’s painting.
"Huh?", Pretty Boy™️¸ cutely tilted his head, a small feline-esque smirk forming on his pretty lips and his pretty brown eyes crinkling. Pretty, pretty, pretty, Jisung thought that the word pretty can be used to describe literally anything about this boy.
"Nothing. Haha, nothing!" Jisung responded a few octaves higher and winced. A light chuckle escaped the brunette’s lips, Jisung’s heart did a somersault- correction, somersaults.
"Sorry about that," he apologized before walking off to who-knows-where. Jisung only let out a strangled noise, far from 'Thank you for saving me yesterday.' To be fair, it’d be difficult for anyone to utter words in front of a boy who’s highly likely part of Adonis’s bloodline.
Tiny. His voice is so tiny and smooth like silk, the opposite of his sharp features. Jisung felt all mushy inside. The feeling of butterflies flittering in his stomach sent his heart into a frenzy. How long has it been since he last felt that?
Jisung only snapped back to reality when the library doors were slammed shut by someone he didn’t care to know.
Deeming himself unfit to do further work because of his encounter with the handsome stranger? acquaintance? hero? Jisung left the unfinished work and headed towards the check-out counter. He almost fell down the stairs like a slinky if not for his trusty best friend holding his shoulders for balance.
"Woah- easy there my dude. Saw a ghost up there or something?" Felix jokes, smiling so that his straight pearly whites showed, another thing about Felix Jisung was low-key jealous of.
Jisung’s brain has practically short-circuited at this point, filter broken because whatever he said after surprises him as much as it surprises Felix.
"Should I call the National Museum of Korea or the Louvre Museum?"
"Um, neither. What’s your business with them?" Felix’s eyebrows furrowed, not catching where their conversation was headed (probably towards something stupid, just like the billions of other conversations they had.) The glint in Jisung’s eyes made him all the more curious of whatever is in his friend’s disorganized, chaotic, and carefree mind.
"I think I just found one of Da Vinci’s works walking around Section R."
—
Week 0, Thursday, 12:41pm
The sun was shining, birds perched on tall trees were chirping, students who had their lunch break at that time of the day were peaceful.
Han Jisung hated it. Loathed it even.
It was...off. Sure, it was nice that the school atmosphere changed for once, but everything was so harmonious that Jisung was scared one step on the brick pavement would cause mass destruction or someone would start yelling 'food fight!' from the nearby cafeteria (the last food fight that happened a year ago was agreed to never be brought up again). Nevertheless, he continued walking down the path with his red headphones on and mop of newly-dyed dirty blonde hair covered by the hood of his supreme hoodie.
His gut feeling was bothering him too much. Too much to the point that he didn’t even try to dance a bit to the song he’s been hooked to lately- Blinding Lights, was it? It was a song Felix kept on playing in their dorm that he discovered through TikTok. His gut feeling was practically screaming at him to duck. Yes, duck. The logical part of him was yelling at him to just shake off the feeling because it sounded pretty stupid. He was in a secluded part of the school. It’s not like a bag with illegal stuff would hit him square on the face-
Ouch.
There it was. The violent disturbance of this fine day has finally arrived.
The mysterious bag thrown at him fazed him just a bit, the squirrel-looking boy taking a few steps backwards because of the impact.
"Hey! You don’t just throw bags at people you know!", the pissed teen shrieked. "What am I supposed to do with this-" His heart sped up when he heard the clanking of metal inside. He felt his BLT sandwich climb back up his throat ready to launch out from where it went in.
Bomb?! Why would a student have a bomb in school?!
With very extra caution, the blonde unzipped the bag with shaky hands, breath hitching when he saw a sliver of red and silver. He pulled the slider until it hit the bottom stop, chanting "This is stupid!" and voice raising in pitch when he accidentally hit the bag with his foot.
The sheer embarrassment he felt after hearing the echo of his distress calls was deadlier than what was inside.
Spray paint cans. Specifically, red and silver spray paint cans.
Jisung was ready to curl into a ball and get swallowed by the Earth there and then. Or maybe turn into a ball and bounce away? Or suddenly gain powers to shapeshift so that he'll join his squirrel brothers up in the trees to never be seen again and leave a myth about the boy who turned into a weresquirrel because he was stupid enough to think that spray paint cans were bombs. But of course, the universe had a better (read: worse) plan.
"You little fucker! How dare you hurt Yunhee!" Jisung didn’t have any time to figure out who was nearing him because the next thing he knew the guy’s fist made contact with his gut, sending him down to the ground. His beloved headphones went flying a few feet away, power light sputtering until it completely went out. Well, that was the end of his headphones, and next is his, he shuddered.
"W-what?", he coughed, vision blurry from the tears he’s about to shed out of pain, shock, confusion, and fear. "I don’t- I don"t know what you"re talking about-!"
Another kick. Jisung curled on the ground, breathing heavily because what the fuck how can he kick with the power of a horse?! He closed his eyes and braced for impact upon seeing the fist aimed at his face.
Except it never came.
The thud of a hardbound book opted Jisung to open his eyes and look past the assaulter (who was rubbing the sore spot on his head and swearing like a sailor) and at his knight in shining armor.
White converse with sharpie doodles of what looked like wrinkly faces and...ants? bears? cats? Jisung can’t really figure out what they were.
His savior left as fast as he came, much to the blonde’s dismay- or maybe relief because Yunhee’s boyfriend (Jisung knew him by face, how wouldn’t he if he always saw him with his classmate getting all lovey dovey or handsy in literally any place they’re spotted together) chased after the book attacker.
Groaning, he adjusted himself to get a clearer view of the book. Junji Ito’s Tomie. The full, hardbound edition one.
If he can throw a book at him, then maybe he can throw a punch or two as well.
(Jisung retrieved his lifeless headphones and staggered towards the clinic, explaining what happened to his poor stomach. The guidance counselor got involved, blindly accused him for pushing a lady and vandalizing the school walls with spray painted dicks ("How childish...," Jisung muttered and the guidance counselor glared daggers at him) and gave him the punishment of becoming the school librarian for one month along with Felix who was caught climbing the school walls to go see his college crush during break time. Yunhee's boyfriend was suspended from his soccer team. As for the book, Jisung left it on one of the benches in the school grounds in hopes of the owner coming back to get it.)
—
Week 1, Monday, 7:16am
"Lee Felix Yongbok," Jisung emphasized every syllable in the cutest way possible. "Can you fix the shelves today?" he innocently smiled at his best friend, cupping his cheeks and resting his elbows on the counter in hopes of convincing Felix to fix the shelves because no way was he going back there after what happened last week.
"Grow some balls. He’s just a handsome guy not some monster," Felix deadpanned, busy rechecking all of the returned books on the database.
"That’s exactly my problem! Heâ’s a handsome guy, the handsome guy who saved me from being beaten to a pulp!"
"Isn’t that more of a reason to go see him? Thank him, treat him to the vending machine, hang out, fall in love, get married-"
Jisung didn’t hesitate to throw half of his body over the counter just to shut his friend up, glaring at him through red-tinted cheeks. Felix only laughed harder when he saw who entered the library and was about to pass behind Jisung.
"Listen here you little- what the fuck?!" Jisung ungracefully stumbled back, unfortunately landing on the passerby’s foot. He felt muscular arms wrap around his torso like they were doing a high school version of the famous Titanic scene. He tilted his head to get a clear view of the person. Big, big mistake.
"H-hi," Nope. No way is Pretty Boy the one holding me right now. It’s time to book a flight to Spain, change my name, and spend the rest of my days in hiding.
"You okay?", Pretty Boy’s breath tickled Jisung’s face, he scrunched his nose in response. Felix was egging on him from his peripheral vision, and an unusual wave of confidence surged throughout his body.
"I’m currently held in the arms of a handsome stranger, what do you think?" God that was so cheesy. He can’t believe he said that.
"I think you’re having the time of your life," the brunette nonchalantly said, and Jisung’s train of thought halted because he wasn’t wrong and that was embarrassing to admit even to himself.
"No comment," he answered while getting back on his own two feet. He remembered his left palm smothered with saliva and immediately hid it in his sweater pocket.
"Minho. Lee Minho," Minho, Jisung felt a bit giddy that he finally knew his name, leaned on the nearby bookshelf. It sent Jisung’s heart into a frenzy because a pose so simple turned him into a model that deserved the cover page of a magazine.
"I’m-"
"Han Jisung. I know."
Shit, his smile is so pretty. He wanted to listen to that again, his name rolling off Minho’s tongue. Wait, Jisung focus.
"What are you? A stalker or something?" Jisung’s voice quivered near the end, because the Lee Minho knew him and he didn’t even know of the guy’s existence before the Thursday incident. He felt robbed.
"Consider me as your guardian angel," Minho pulled out a book from the shelf, The Art of Racing in the Rain, and winked at Jisung- he thought that it was supposed to be a wink but it looked like he just forcefully blinked at him uncoordinatedly. "See you around Jisungie."
Jisung opened and closed his mouth like a fish, only for a breathless "bye" to come out. Everything, even Felix’s unholy screeching, faded in the background as he watched Minho round the corner of the long bookshelf, steps not even faltering one bit.
He did the same, staring, when he saw Minho in the library that afternoon, nose stuck in the book he picked up earlier. He’s sitting on the floor this time, back leaning against the shelf and unoccupied hand smoothly running through his brown locks. He now had thin silver-rimmed round glasses perched on his perfect nose bridge.
"Go talk to him," Felix nudged his shoulder whilst giggling like a middle school girl. "Heard he’s a regular here in the library. Always busy reading a book."
Jisung gawked at him. "How are you even sure he- you know-?"
"You two shamelessly flirted in font of my salad a few hours ago," Felix handed Jisung a paperback book from the pile of newly-arrived books. "Recommend him a book or something. Dunno what this is but I think you already read it."
Jisung checked the cover and indeed he has read that book. In fact, it was one of the rare books he actually enjoyed. Perfect for a conversation starter. He casually strolled towards Minho, book on one hand and the other stuffed in his hoodie’s pocket (Correction: Chan’s hoodie’s pocket. He spilled iced americano all over his own hoodie an hour ago because of a sudden surge of lyric ideas that had him scrambling for a notebook and pen and knocking down everything in his way such as the iced americano and Changbin.)
"I guess you’re into tear-jerkers," he casually slid next to Minho and checked the page he was on because he was nosy like that. His jaw dropped to the floor when he saw that Minho was already halfway through the book. "You’re fast."
"So I’ve been told," Minho glanced at Jisung with a suggestive smirk which earned him a slight shove from the blushing latter.
"Get your mind out of the gutter! You know that’s not what I meant!"
"That’s not what I meant either. You get your mind out of the gutter," Jisung only huffed at the response, pretending to pick on a loose thread on Chan’s sweater. He should really buy himself new clothes, Jisung thought, because he’s been wearing the same sweaters in a cycle they were bound to be worn out faster than expected.
"What brings you here?" Minho asked as he turned the page, "Don’t you have some books to sort? Books to check-out? People sucking each other’s faces to kick out?"
"Felix said he’d- what?"
"Second floor. Wouldn’t go there if I were you."
Jisung’s brows furrowed. His statements contradicted each other. "Then I won’t. Don’t look for something that’ll keep me busy. Be grateful I’m gracing you with my presence. It’s a blessing, really," he showed obnoxious jazz hands to emphasize his point.
"Seems more like a curse," Minho teased. "And that’s hyung to you."
Jisung pouted and halfheartedly stood up to leave, a part of him thinking that Minho was serious about wanting to be alone. His heart ached a bit at that thought.
"Fine, fine, I’ll go swap with Felix. See you around hyung."
The tug at his sleeve stopped him from going farther. "I was kidding. I appreciate the company."
What?"You-you aren’t annoyed?", he cautiously sat down again, chewing on his lip out of nervousness.
"No silly," Minho poked his cheek, catching Jisung off-guard. "And stop biting your lips. Don’t want them to bleed."
Jisung flushed, Minho’s voice laced with concern directly hitting his poor heart. He sat next to Minho in silence, something surprising even for himself. It was a comfortable silence, it felt just right. Jisung found himself staring at the older’s side profile, and that was one breathtaking view. From the occasional creases of his eyebrows, steady movement of his brown pupils, perfectly angled nose (Jisung noted the small mole that added charm to the senior), and plump glossy lips that mutter words from the book. Ethereal.
"About your question, yes I do," Jisung snapped out of his daze. Minho turned another page, adjusting his glasses. Even that simple act made him look attractive.
"Oh," Jisung fumbled for the book, nudging Minho’s shoulder with it. "I heard you like books- not that I asked about you because that’s creepy!- I just heard it, overheard it from people. Um-anyway, here."
Minho took the book from his hand, and Jisung noticed how tiny they were- well, tiny in a sense that they were almost the exact same size as his and his hands were tiny as well. The thought of how the older’s hands would feel on his passed for a second.
"Ah, this book," the senior scanned the review at the back, smiling from ear-to-ear, much to the happiness of the blonde. "I remember seeing the movie with my friends, but I fell asleep right in the beginning," Minho giggled, and it was the most angelic thing Jisung has heard.
"In that case, you can read the book with thrill! It’s one of the best books I’ve read, was not able to get over with it for a week," Jisung gushed. "Well-written, love the storyline, I love everything about it."
Minho let out a hum of approval. "Then I’ll be reading this immediately after. Have you read this Jisungie?"
"Yeah, one of my favorites," Jisung answered, trying his best to decipher the unreadable gaze of the older. "Why’d you ask?"
"Do you-do you wanna read it again?" Minho hesitantly asked and positioned the book in between them, hopeful eyes looking at Jisung practically begging him to agree. Reading has become a foreign thing for Jisung, but how can he resist the offer from him?
"Yes, yeah, would love to," Jisung tentatively scooted closer until their thighs were touching. It sent a wave of electricity throughout his body. Minho did not seem to mind, as he went back to reading from where he left off. A small smile made its way on the junior’s face as he started reading, basking in the comfortable silence and warmth of his new friend.
( Jisung argues with himself at the use of friend to describe Minho. It felt wrong, so he settled with crush instead.)
—
Week 1, Wednesday, 12:16pm
"Creep," Changbin spouted, but his attempt failed to catch the younger’s attention. Usually, Jisung would rebutt with an insult or two, but the way he’s silent about it made Changbin suspicious of what the younger was up to for the past few days.
"Hey, Gollum, what’s up with that face?"
Jisung turned around, a dopey smile on his face matched with red-tinted cheeks. "Did you say something hyung?"
"You-" the elder squinted his eyes, making sure he’s not seeing things because he has never seen Jisung look like that. "Do you like someone?"
"No…"
"You are the worst liar ever," Changbin shook his head in amusement, giving up on finishing his Korean Literature assignment due in two hours. There was always time to rush it: specifically during the subject before and the 10-minute break in between. "So, who’re you making goo goo eyes at?"
"Well…" They weren’t goo goo eyes per se, more like subtle glances and physical contact while they read books together as a result of the budding crush he has on the senior bookworm. "That’s not my love language."
"Aha! So you do like someone. My grade? College student? Or," Changbin wiggles his eyebrows. "Freshman, perhaps?"
"None of your business oompa loompa," Jisung swiftly avoided the punches thrown at him by the whining elder.
"Boo you fun-sucking rodent- Minho! Over here!"
At the mention of his crush, Jisung sat prim and proper on the chair, putting his shoes back on and smoothing out his hair sticking in different directions (He can’t help it. Physics was a pain and mussing up your hair is relieving.) Minho jogged towards the counter, wearing the finest jewelry Jisung has ever seen- his smile.
Also, he’s wearing shades. Thick framed, shiny, heavily-tinted Ray Bans.
"Oh, Jisungie, fancy seeing you here," Jisung can’t really tell if the older was looking at him, it was quite funny.
"I’m stuck here for a whole month, you don’t listen to my stories after all!" Jisung dramatically slid down his chair while clutching his shirt. "It hurts. See these scissors? It’s for cutting our friendship. Farewell, Lee Minho."
"Get your dramatic ass up. What I meant was that you’re in charge of check-ins and outs for the first time. And besides," Minho leaned on the counter, angled to look at Jisung. "I wouldn’t wanna miss a single word from those pretty lips of yours."
This beautiful slick bitch. Jisung thought but acted the complete opposite because the dopey smile is back and he felt his legs go weak. Flirting at the wrong place and time and in front of the wrong person.
Changbin coughed obnoxiously loud, loud enough to earn a few stares from other students and one freshman to spray alcohol all over her personal space bubble.
"So, where’s the problem?" Changbin sent Jisung a split-second teasing look before focusing on the Math problem that caused Minho to seek for the math genius during lunch. Jisung focused his attention on the sudden influx of students checking-out books, realizing that ah, lunch was ending. The line felt like it it never ran out of students, but Jisung didn’t mind. It gave him an excuse.
"Quit staring. It’s rude," Jisung felt the poke of a finger on his cheek, specifically on the mole that he’s been teased of back in elementary (along with the chubby cheeks and glasses).
"Oh, did I offend the books?"
"Look, one fell off the shelf. It totally broke them."
The junior shook his head with a smile, still unconvinced that Minho was two years older than him. The little interactions they’ve had for the past few days baffled him about his hyung’s real age. "It’ll climb back up when I’m not looking," he answered while eyeing the suspicious shades. "What’s with your get-up today?"
"Sty," Minho cooly replied, and Jisung figured it was just a cover-up for whatever was really going on with his eyes. "Why? Wanna see how ugly it is?"
"Sure," Jisung bluntly replied, and Minho’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, clearly not expecting that answer. "Bet you still look good."
The hint of red on Minho’s ears made Jisung heat up as well. Even so, he felt like an accomplished man. He was able to make the most beautiful man alive blush.
"What if I tell you it isn’t a sty, but something uglier?" Jisung rolled his eyes and reached for the shades but smooth fingers curled around his wrists.
"It’s very ugly Jisungie," Minho warned, voice going lower for an eerier effect. Jisung wanted to slap himself for thinking that was hot. No one in the right mind should think that a warning was hot.
The school bell rang, and Jisung used the split second that Minho was distracted to grab the shades, dropping them to the floor when he felt the hand on his wrist tighten.
"What-," Jisung broke into a teasing smirk, "You said it was so sad that you wanted to cry but I didn’t think you really would!"
Minho put up a middle finger and put his shades back on, throwing a punch at Jisung’s arm, weaker than what the latter expected. His face was beet red, matching his bloodshot and puffy eyes from all the crying he did because of the book, entitled 5 Feet Apart, Jisung recommended to him a few days ago. "This stays only between us you gremlin."
"No promises," Jisung innocently smileed, dodging Minho’s fists from across the counter. "By the way, you can stay in my grandma’s vegetable garden and I wouldn’t able to find you."
Minho rounded the corner and entered Jisung’s station, ignoring the younger’s shrieks as his fingers poked at the tickle spots he knew. A knock on wood stopped him from his attack and Jisung breathed in much needed air.
"Bell already rang in case you guys didn’t realize," Both boys got up on their feet and ran, Minho thanking the student (which happened to be the person who he hit with a book because he hit Jisung) before bursting out of the door. Jisung giggled along the way, liking the thrill of whatever was happening. He heard Minho laugh too, warmth bloomed in his chest despite knowing that he’d get chewed on for being late. It was worth it, he thought.
"Hey," Minho breathlessly called out before they separate ways. "Recommend me another book." It wasn’t a question, it was a request.
"Later at the library. Let’s read together again," Jisung sent a shy wave before climbing up the stairs, grinning from ear to ear, red blooming from his cheeks, and a certain Lee Minho on his mind (and if the teacher and his classmates, especially Felix noticed how he was smiling while getting an earful, then they didn’t bother to question why.)
—
Week 2, Wednesday, 5:20pm
"Hey."
Jisung turned his head to meet Minho’s eyes, and he doesn’t know if it’s the drowsiness or their faces are really close. Well, he was resting on the older’s shoulder, what kind of gap did he expect?
"Hey yourself," Jisung felt Minho shift his legs, bringing them close to his chest. The book they just finished lays neatly on the floor, front side down just like how they positioned books they finish. "What is it?"
"If you were Anna, would you sue your parents?" Minho blinked owlishly at him, eyelashes fluttering in a way that makes Jisung’s heart skip a beat.
"Honestly, I wouldn’t. I can understand that it’s all for her, and I love her, and I know that my parents love me even though I was only made for harvesting and all that," He heard a hum from Minho who shifted his position so that his head was resting on top of the younger’s. The smell of flowery fabric softener that Jisung always remembered seeing (and smelling) in the grocery enveloped his senses. When he passed by its aisle last Saturday while grocery shopping with his roommate, the mental image of Minho sitting next to him reading immediately popped in his mind (Felix had to ask if he was sick, but later figured out that yes he was sick, lovesick.)
Jisung felt like they’re too comfortable with each other for people who just met a week ago. But it felt right because of the amount of time they spent and stories they’ve shared, Jisung felt like Minho was a long-time friend. They instantly clicked, and he was grateful that they did.
"Wouldn’t you want to be selfless for once though," Minho drummed his fingers on the very little space between them, and Jisung can’t ignore how they sometimes brushed his hand. "And, well, listen to what Kate said...sue the parents."
"I want to give her hope, tell her to hang on a bit more, because you’ll never know what will happen if you give up right away. A miracle could happen in the span of that short time. It’s all a matter of not being afraid to take the risk," Jisung inched his hand closer to Minho’s, testing the waters. "It puts my life at risk, it was always at risk in the first place, but it’s for my sister. We can do anything for the people we love."
Minho chuckled, "Yeah, even hit people with books."
Air got caught on Jisung’s throat, he wasn’t stupid to not know the reference. But the sudden confession made his insides flip. "Hyung-"
"Pretend I didn’t say anything," Minho scrambled to get up, Jisung whining at the sudden loss of contact. "Sorry. It just slipped. Let’s head out, it’s getting late."
Jisung can’t help but feel a sting on his heart. I think I like you too. "Thank you."
"Huh?"
"For hitting Yuhee’s boyfriend. Never really got to say that," Jisung let out a laugh to ease the awkward atmosphere. "Let’s go."
They lock up the library and leave the building in silence. Jisung can feel the wider than normal distance Minho has put between them, but he decided to respect the older’s wishes. What did he really mean? Was it really just a bluff? God, why is love so complicated…it isn’t even love. He just has a crush on the older, nothing serious.
Well, that’s what he keeps on telling himself. As he got to know Minho as not just the guy with a pretty face and physique but him as a person, he thinks his little crush was becoming something more.
"Jisungie," Minho’s soft voice snapped Jisung out of his reverie. He didn’t even notice how far they’ve already walked. "Here’s your stop."
Oh, they were already in front of his dorm building, and he can see Felix waving at Minho through their room’s window.
"Hyung! I didn’t know you went to Gimpo Hosu and Geomdan," Jisung sees Minho deflate at the information Felix found. Jisung’s cogs turned, putting pieces together and head spinning once everything dawned on him. Minho knew his name, knew a few things and habits about him, and most importantly: has probably (Jisung doesn’t want to get his hopes up) been into him for a long time now.
"That’s where we studied too! I saw you in my sister’s yearbook when I went home during the weekend. Wow, it really really is a small world!"
Minho respondedwith an airy 'yeah' before announcing his leave, saying that the bus he’ll take will arrive soon. He bade them goodbye, Jisung caught his eyes for a split second.
We need to talk.
Minho nodded, understanding what the younger wanted, and mouthed 'tomorrow' before turning his back and heading towards the metal gates of the school- wind coming out of nowhere and gently ruffling his brown hair.
Jisung sprinted towards his room, almost knocking out his freshman friend Jeongin who was with another freshman named Yedam. The door was already open when he arrived, and to his surprise, Hyunjin and Seungmin were both taking off their shoes near the entrance.
"Oh, hi."
Hyunjin muttered something under his breath and flicked Jisung’s forehead, messaging the area after hearing the latter’s pained cry.
"Idiot," The older sighed as the three made their way to the main area of the room: the beds. There wasn’t any space for a whole living room, so the two opted to buy good beds to make up for it.
"What did I do?" Jisung whined, flopping on his bed like a starfish.
"Become an idiot, that’s what," Seungmin answered, handing him a strawberry Melona from the plastic bag he was carrying.
"Not fair! You two are ganging up on me! I have single rights!" He screeched. Felix threw a kitchen towel directly on his face, shamelessly smiling when it hit bullseye.
"Sorry 'Sungie, they’re actually right," Felix settled on his bed with his own popsicle in hand, draping his legs across the couple’s. "You’re smart. You can put two and two together."
"I figured that out dumbasses! Like you said, I was smart enough to figure out what was going on," Jisung bit off half of the popsicle, humming contently at the burst of sweetness in his mouth. "But that doesn’t mean-"
"No, it does mean!" Hyunjin point at Jisung with his melon popsicle. "How did you never notice him?"
"None of us noticed or knew him!" Jisung whines.
"I’ve noticed him a couple of times," Seungmin admitted, briefly glaring at his boyfriend for taking a bite out of his honeydew popsicle. "It started with the not-so-subtle glances at our cafeteria table during middle school, then he’ll look- well, he still looks- at you and only you during performances or when we're in his radar, and then there were attempts to talk to you but chicken out."
"Minnie, you noticed all these since middle school and you never bothered to tell me- I mean us?!" Hyunjin dramatically flopped on Felix’s legs with a pout. "Jisung could be a dummy in love right now."
Jisung groaned and covered his face with his free hand. "I don’t even know what I’m feeling. I remember finding him stupidly handsome last week and now, now that I spent literally all of my free time with him- got to know him and all that- I think-"
Cheesy enough, scenes of his and Minho’s daily hangout sessions flashed before his eyes. From the first time they read a book together, the little pauses they have in between just to talk about anything that comes in mind, the comfortable silence and exchanged words after finishing another book, his cute habit of inserting random drawings from ripped paper on books they’ve finished for future readers to find, and every little detail about Minho that would take Jisung hours to finish talking about.
Come to think of it, he’s been reading books again and enjoying it despite swearing on his life that he’s had enough of them. Library duties became bearable, fun even, because Minho would be there. The towering shelves that once reminded him of the horrible place that was The Maze turned into places he and Minho made memories, sitting on the floor and leaning on the wooden shelves as they read page after page of Jisung’s recommended book.
Ah. No point in denying it now.
The ghost of a smile appeared on Jisung’s lips, and the words that slipped out drove his heart crazy- but it felt right.
"I like him. I like Lee Minho."
—
Week 2, Friday, 3:25pm
Compared to what Jisung thought would be eternal awkwardness between them, everything was fine between them after the whole Wednesday incident. They talked the day after- well, it was more of Minho confirming that he did study in those schools and telling Jisung that he didn’t mean what he said in that way through red-tipped ears. Those words pierced through Jisung like arrows but what they were currently doing, cuddled up with a big fluffy blanket draped over them while reading The Little Prince, made him think that what the senior said was a complete lie.
Or maybe it wasn’t and Jisung was just getting his hopes up. Sue him for constantly thinking about the pieces of information Seungmin told them.
"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important," Minho read aloud, and Jisung didn’t miss the fond way he looked at him when he read the quote. "I think this is my favorite quote."
"Why?" 'Is it because of how you can relate but it’s me and not a rose? ' was what Jisung wanted to add, but he kept his mouth shut for the sake of saving both of them from embarrassment.
"What makes someone important is how much time you spend for or with them. Time is precious, every single second is something not to be wasted, but if you’re with someone you love, you won’t mind spending your whole life- 613200 plus hours of your heart beating in your chest- with them."
Minho was totally staring through Jisung’s doe eyes with those brown eyes of his that held the universe. They say a person’s eyes are a window to their soul, and Jisung can see how much sincerity they held. There was also a hidden agenda to it, was the quote directed to him perhaps? Most likely.
("I’ve noticed him a couple of times. It started with the not-so-subtle glances at our cafeteria table during middle school, then he’ll look- well, he still looks- at you and only you during performances, and then there were attempts to talk to you but chicken out.")
"Cute," The blonde cooed, poking the older’s cheek. "Does it remind you of anyone?"
"My cats, family, and friends," Minho enumerated. And you…
Jisung heardinvisible glass shatter into a thousand pieces. Alright, scratch that romantic scenario he made in his head because Minho isn’t gonna have any of that. Ever.
"Oh," He pathetically replied. Nice going Jisung, you sound so desperate goddamnit.
Minho raised his eyebrow and a cheshire smirk formed on his lips, "Why? Did you expect me to say 'you'?"
Panic filled every cell of Jisung’s body. Yes he wanted to get hit on so that his suspicions are confirmed but once it did happen every pick-up line and comeback remark gets thrown out of the window.
Well, fuck.
He’s on autopilot now, and autopilot meant a broken filter and his body acting before thinking. Jisung shoved Minho, hard, and the brunette fell to the ground in a giggling mess. His flailing hand somehow made its way to Jisung’s wrist, and he pulled him down with him like the little devil he was. Jisung’s face crash landed on his well-defined pecs, Good Lord, I wouldn't mind dying right here, right now.
There they were, in the middle of bookshelves M-1 and M-2, bodies pressed next to each other and the fluffy blanket tangled between their bodies. Totally not a suggestive scene that’s driving Jisung insane. Before he can blow up and litter the library with his blood and insides, he rolled off Minho and settled next to him, steadying his breathing and his heart.
He was well aware of how his neck, ears, and face were colored in the deepest shade of red possible for a human to have. The boy beside him was going to be the death of him. He saw Minho turn to his side, struggling because of the yellow cloth, and gave him another fond smile. (He does that a lot, stares and smiles at Jisung which scream fond in big, bold, capital letters.)
"When someone blushes, doesn’t that mean 'yes'?"
Let’s just say Felix kicked them out of the library for creating a ruckus, saying he’ll take care of everything as long as they leave but hand him the comfy blanket. The school field served as their temporary reading base, curled up next to each other again with their bums planted on the freshly cut grass. Minho comments about the weather being perfect, just the right amount of sunlight and wind; but all Jisung could think about is how every moment with him, whether it’d be in the middle of a storm in a rickety shed or in the sides of a field on a beautiful day, will always be perfect.
—
Week 3, Tuesday, 1:40pm
So maybe he was being too dramatic when he said every moment as long as he’s with Minho will be perfect.
Being forced to sit in a chair and watch Minho do all of the work he was supposed to do is not perfect. His immune system a few hours ago thought it’d be a swell idea to weaken and let the rhinovirus in and make him suffer. On the fucking day he was supposed to confess.
No, he refuses to declare his feelings for the older through a clogged nose and heavy eyelids because there is nothing romantic about that at all. Who would want to say yes to a walking disease?
"You should really go back to the dorms Jisungie," Minho slid next to him after finishing the library work. "You can’t continue classes looking like…that."
Jisung’s groans are muffled by the jacket he’s laying on face down, which he assumed smells like flowery fabric softener because his sense of smell is non-existent right now. "I had plans and life decided to ruin it all. Step on legos and stub your toe bitch."
Minho chuckled and helped Jisung get back on his feet. "I have plans too, but taking care of you is more important. Besides, my plan involved you."
Oh. Oh. Jisung felt the flutter of butterflies in his stomach. Minho arranged something for them to do, and Jisung had the urge to scrounge his insides and take out the virus with his bare hands...if that was possible.
"So, where are we going now?"
"Back to your room. Nothing will go through that head of yours if you’re not well," Jisung let Minho walk him back to his dorm, eyelids getting heavier each passing second he might pass out in the middle of the school grounds. So much for a supposedly romantic day.
They arrived at the room in one piece, Jisung collapsing on his bed the second he felt his feet were free from his combat boots. He shut down on the spot, not giving two cents about what the older would do after. It was only 6 hours after, when the sky was already littered with stars and the full moon shone through their window, that he found out that the older skipped classes to take care of him- cook soup and change the wet cloth on his forehead and all. Felix sent him as much teasing remarks and looks as he can. Jisung only noticed the ripped paper on his desk mid-eating the crab and corn soup, 'get well soon' written in red ink and the o's were decorated with wrinkly faces. Felix teases him harder after the discovery of the paper and the realization that all this time it was Minho who gave him the pieces of paper he always found on his desk from elementary to middle school ("When you were in your last year, the papers disappear because he isn’t in school anymore!" Felix screeches, too loud for sick Jisung’s liking. "You absolute idiot he's giving you signs and your dumb pea-sized brain didn't even notice it!")
The drawings on the papers were often laughed at by Jisung, rarely did he find them jaw-dropping or cool. They brought happiness to him though, a collection of tiny treasures that never failed to put a smile on his face. Now that he found out that Minho was the artist behind the thousands of doodles he has hidden in his drawer at home, it gives him a big boost of confidence to confess.
But first, he should beat this damn virus.
—
Week 3, Friday, 5:29pm
Exactly three weeks ago, Jisung made a fool out of himself in front of Minho; from ogling at him like a creep because his leather jeans were doing wonders to calling him someone straight out of Da Vinci’s painting. Now, as he makes his way to the library with a skip in his step and huge grin on his face, he’ll try not to make a fool out of himself because he’ll finally, finally confess. He’s not going to chicken out again, unlike the past few days where he’d go back to is dorm and curse at his reflection for backing out the last second.
Jisung made his way to the bookshelf Minho had texted him to go to
...only to find nothing. No Minho, no book to read, nothing- just the expanse of books in the bookshelf and empty aisle.
"Hyung?" Jisung looked for the senior in the whole expanse of the first floor, and the only trace of the boy he found was the yellow post-it that directed him to section R, specifically where they first met.
Panic bubbled in Jisung’s throat, Is Minho hyung doing what I was going to do?!
He ran up to the second floor, rushing over to the instructed place to find 8 books lined on the floor like it was going to be used for some sort of summoning ritual. How quirky. How Minho.
Jisung inspected each book closer, they were books that the two have them read over the past weeks. A letter on each book title was covered by a paper cut out of Minho’s iconic jureumi. Cute.
5 Feet Apart, Minho wrote the word 'five’ on a post-it and covered the letter I
The Little Prince, letter L
The Fault in Our Stars, letter I
My Sister’s Keeper, letter K
Percy Jackson and the Olympians, letter E
Library of Souls, letter Y
The Last Time I Saw Mother, letter O
Asylum, letter U
Jisung’s heart was racing a mile per minute. His hands were shaking and clammy, and he’s sure his cheeks and ears were flushed.
"I like you," He heard Minho from behind, his velvety voice directly hitting Jisung’s heart and making his knees weak.
"You know, just in case you can't decipher what the heck it means. I...I like you."
Fuck, this was really happening.
Jisung clumsily stood up and turned around fast enough to almost give himself whiplash. Minho was wearing exactly what he wore 3 weeks ago, cream colored hoodie and leather jeans with his doodled converse. His hair was swept up this time, exposing his whole forehead, and Jisung thought that that was his best look of all time.
"I-" Jisung cut off his shaky voice with a laugh, overwhelmed with emotions. "Can you say that again? Please?"
Minho glared at him. "I think I've said it enough. You're on your own."
Jisung giggled at the older's attempt at acting stubborn. What a hard-to-get...
"I wasn't listening the first time! Nor the second...what did you say again?"
"Han Jisung," Minho stepped closer, one step, two steps, three steps, until they were a few inches apart, close enough that Jisung can feel the heat radiating off of him. "I like you. I’ve liked you ever since you stepped foot in our middle school with those round cheeks and oversized sweaters of yours."
"So not during elementary? With the transformers t-shirts and ninjago sandals?"
They share a laugh at the memory. "I guess I was quite fond. I was only sure about what I was feeling when I saw you get your arm broken because you saved the cat you always fed at the back of the school. Also, my gay awakening happened during middle school."
"So I had to break my arm for a cat so that you’d fall for me?!" Jisung screeched and hit Minho’s chest. The latter let out a hearty laugh, grabbing Jisung’s wrists and entangling their fingers together.
"Han Peter Jisung,"
Jisung glared at him but Minho only smiled wider.
"Will you go out with me?"
Jisung braced himself and stepped closer, tiptoeing so that his lips were almost brushing against the older’s.
"When someone blushes, doesn’t that mean 'yes'?"
—end—