Work Text:
Jaemin Na:
Three weeks without a single owl — it was your majesty who'd insisted on this form of communication — while I, on the other hand, have been suffering gravely due to the lack of moral support that you've so graciously promised me a while ago. If you don't respond, just know that I will report your ass missing to Prof. Lilyflower and wash my hands clean of you.
Sincerely, Jisung Park.
The letter is waved in Jisung's face, and he blinks to make sure that it isn't just the shadows from the candlelight dancing right in front of him.
Chenle tilts his head. "I found this on my bedside table. Look, there's a post-scriptum too." Just in case Jisung hadn't somehow managed to remember that he'd penned it down, Chenle flips the piece of parchment over to reveal the small note.
PS: CHENLE ZHONG offered to tutor me yesterday. WHAT DO? Please advise.
Ah.
The first thing Jisung discovers is that Chenle Zhong is very, extremely hard to avoid.
His endearingly annoying indigo-blue hair never fails to pop up wherever Jisung goes — so much that Jisung wonders if Chenle had cast some sort of tracking spell on him. From the library, to even the outskirts of the Woods, Chenle finds his way back to Jisung like it's nothing.
There are a lot of consequences to having Daegal deliver the letters to the wrong person, and Jisung's left to deal with them all alone.
The second thing Jisung discovers is that he definitely does not hate Chenle's presence. Maybe he's known this all along, but as much as Jisung whines and grumbles when Chenle appears out of the blue to pepper him with questions, he knows with a terrifying certainty that he likes the company.
It's, of course, to be expected, especially when one has harboured a two-year-long crush on said Hufflepuff. (No matter how much he pretends he doesn't, Jisung definitely does retain some sort of romantic feelings for Chenle Zhong. They’ve always refused to go away.)
In conclusion, it's particularly difficult not to cave in when it comes to Zhong.
Jisung learns his first lesson on the ways of Chenle Zhong the hard way.
The first step: The wild Chenle approaches (sneaks up on) Jisung. Maintaining silence and being stealthy gives Chenle the surprise factor, and it's effective in drawing more information out of him.
The second, and last, step: Chenle bombs the question.
Chenle slides into the booth right next to Jisung without a sound, pulling Jisung's AirPods out and leaning over his shoulder to inspect his Potions homework. If he notices that Jisung's shaking like a leaf, he doesn't let on.
"This part's wrong," says Chenle, pointing to a word. "The key term for this is stir , not mix . There's a difference that'll cost you a few marks in your finals."
Jisung musters the best scowl he can and turns his body away from Chenle. He's too warm — it's almost thirty-five degrees out and he's about to boil to death. Chenle is one of those few people who Jisung tries his best to avoid during summer: he's a natural three-in-one body heater.
Chenle frowns at his silence. "I'm your tutor. Show some respect, yeah? I've chosen not to charge you for this."
Huh? "You were serious about tutoring? And what do you mean you were gonna charge me? You're worse than a Slytherin."
"Don't stereotype them! And didn't I make it clear enough? We're going to be meeting every Tuesday and Friday here for Potions. If you need help with Herbology too, that's an extra pound for every session." Chenle leans in further; red lights start blaring in Jisung's head. He knows something. "C'mon, we'll be spending a lot of time together! Doesn't that sound fun?"
Tempting, but no. It doesn't sound fun.
He voices so. Chenle snorts and crosses his arms haughtily, resting his head on the table while turning to face Jisung. It's as if he knows its effect — Jisung just about goes tomato red. Who's he to deny that Chenle's cute?
"You," Jisung gets out, "you don't have to. Don't you have Quidditch to deal with? You're busy enough as it is. I don't want to trouble the Hufflepuff Seeker."
Chenle grins. It's feline , Jisung cries out. "I'm sure you'd be delighted by the fact that I'm setting aside my precious time to assist you in slaving over homework. I don't mind at all, in fact."
"You're lunatic."
Chenle hums. "You like it."
Jisung can only blink twice as Chenle steals his precious last words before prancing off to his own common room.
When Jisung finally gets his hands on the elusive Jaemin Na, the said target is slumped over a desk which is, quite unusually, located in the Gryffindor common room.
He doesn't look like he's breathing. For a moment, Jisung thinks that he's dead, before remembering that Jaemin always slouches over while doing his homework.
"Jaemin. You're seriously going to break your back if you keep that up." Jisung spins a chair around to face an extremely intimidating mountain of books and leans over to check on Jaemin. Upon further inspection, Jisung comes to a conclusion that he's unconscious. "Yo, Jaemin, you have homework to do."
All of a sudden, Jaemin is bolting up straight in his seat and Jisung's flinching back violently. It startles an embarrassing yelp out of Jisung — when he realises that Jaemin isn't going to eat his brains anytime soon, his grip on the chair loosens and he curses himself for not swallowing the sound.
Jaemin blearily wipes at his eyes, as if he hadn't scared the shit out of Jisung, and fumbles for his phone. Jisung's jaw flutters. He's almost about to tell Jaemin that it's way past curfew, maybe that Professor Lilyflower's on a rampage, but then Jaemin snaps fully awake, shuffling painfully through pages and pages of hastily written notes with a renewed intensity.
Jisung's heart clenches painfully in sympathy. Finals are hell.
"Aren't you gonna eat? Where've you been the whole month?" Jisung's voice comes out a lot softer than he thought it'd be. "You straight up disappeared off the face of the Earth. Is that possible?"
Jaemin blinks once at Jisung, registering his face. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry. Hell week. Practically died. I think I didn't sleep — sleep was me astral projecting, maybe. Sleep isn’t sleep anymore. Fuck." He glances over at his half-written essay carelessly. "Perhaps I should just take a nap here. G'nite, Ji."
"Wait. Jaemin."
His voice comes too late, and Jaemin has crumbled back into the bright lands of blissful unconsciousness and cotton candy before Jisung's able to stop him.
Jisung barely holds himself back from making the ground beneath Jaemin's feet tremble.
Jisung's promise to himself proves extremely difficult to accomplish. Another few weeks fly by, and Jaemin proves his own position as the Slytherin Head Boy by perfecting the art of slipping right off Jisung's radar.
It's been a week since we've talked, he angrily pens down. Jisung's going to end up burning lines through the parchment. I hope I don't see you for another week, for your own sake, because if I do, you will be returning to your dorms in pieces.
Drawing his final cross onto the paper — the X's looking a lot more sinister than just kisses — Jisung rolls up the parchment huffily and tosses it into the growing mountain of scrolls teetering on the edge of his desk. They wobble precariously over the edge, but to his sigh of relief, they don't topple to the ground.
Jisung's head sinks down onto his pencil case, allowing himself a few seconds for his eyes to close. Momentarily, he wonders if his hopes will somehow magically evaporate.
He squeezes his eyelids tight. Nothing changes. With his dignity long gone, Jisung hastily snaps out of his trance, gathering his belongings and scrambling out of the room.
Arguably, he isn't as dense as he sounds: Jisung holds his own against Renjun in chess, and he's almost as good as Jaemin with a wand and Stun spells. Renjun, the only Ravenclaw he knows who doesn't give a fuck about studying, and Jaemin—
Right. The one spoke in the wheel in his path to winning over Chenle in a subtle fashion and happiness. Devil incarnate himself — Jaemin Na.
When Jisung tosses the scrolls into his room, they slam into the wall with a little more force than expected.
"Jisung."
Jisung grunts noncommittally in response.
"Do you like me?"
It's a nonchalant question, phrased so innocently that it makes Jisung choke on his own saliva. Chenle pats his back comfortingly as he tries to stop his hacking coughs, to no avail.
"What the fuck?" Jisung's voice doesn't come out as strong as he meant it to be. "Where'd that come from?"
"I'm a reoccurring topic in your letters to Jaemin Na, as I'm sure you're aware of." Chenle holds a scroll out to Jisung, which he snatches right out of his palm. Jisung doesn't dare to unfurl it and check — it would become a sign of weakness.
"And that doesn't mean I like you?" Jisung's laugh bounces off the walls of the empty classroom, and even its echoes sound mockingly nervous. For good measure, he adds on, "Sorry if that disappoints you."
The flicker of exasperation and amusement that passes over Chenle's face effectively shuts Jisung up.
Jisung's previous encounter with Chenle was downright embarrassing, so he resorts to avoiding him like the plague for another two weeks. Classic fight or flight instincts. Totally normal.
He twists and turns around in bed aimlessly, shifting into different positions, feet pointing towards the cool ventilation in attempts to cool them down. Summer nights are usually cool in Hogwarts, but Jisung's sweating bullets and he has no fucking clue how to calm his own heartbeat.
He often feels like a fish nowadays. Gaping, dumbstruck, not reacting with any sense of intelligence to anything Chenle says. With the snap of Chenle’s fingers, Jisung's rendered speechless.
Jisung comes to a conclusion that he despises feeling helpless.
That night, Jisung throws in the towel and phones Jaemin.
It isn’t Jaemin who picks up, though.
“Oh, Jisung! How’re you doing?” Jeno’s voice rings cheerily through the speaker, although it's laced with hints of fatigue. Jisung wonders how many hours of sleep he's been getting daily.
"Just peachy." The common room painting slams open and Jisung fumbles with his phone for a second. "How's Quidditch been? Went to your game versus Ravenclaw, you were amazing, dude," Jisung gushes. "Chaser of the Year."
Jeno giggles, embarrassed, and Jisung's heart falters a little. He's resigned to the fact that he'll always have a mini crush on Jeno Lee, be it platonic or not.
It takes a while — six minutes and twenty-seven seconds of them catching up on Quidditch, to be precise — before Jisung remembers that his designated recipient had been Jaemin. He requests for Jaemin over the phone, albeit a little reluctantly. Jeno doesn't manage to speak a word before Jaemin's snatching it back.
"Jisung! It's been ages—"
"Jaemin. I need serious help. It's Chenle," Jisung interrupts.
The other end of the call goes dead silent; Jisung, thinking that Jaemin had hung up on him, prepares to launch a stream of high-level curses, opens his mouth, but Jaemin cuts through.
"Has he been talking to you a lot nowadays?" Jaemin notes. "That's great. Take the upper hand and confess before he can!"
"Jaemin. In all due respect," Jisung takes in a deep breath, "You think, just because your highly unorthodox method of romancing worked to get you your stupid Gryffindor boyfriend, means it'll work for me ?"
Jisung counts at least ten seconds before Jaemin deigns to reply. From the inconveniently loud rustling noises coming from the speaker, Jaemin is fiddling with something on the other end.
Jaemin clears his throat before speaking. "Well. The ends justify the means. I have a boyfriend, you don't, and who knows? Maybe your crush is more similar to said stupid Gryffindor than you'd think." Jisung can hear Jeno bark something foul at Jaemin, to which he holds back a sigh. "My point is: just go ahead with it! If he's so persistently chasing you now, I think it's safe to assume he wants something."
Jaemin abruptly hangs up the call before Jisung can think to ask how he knows that Chenle had been following him around.
Jisung doesn't make the same mistake twice.
Chenle cheers, clasping his hands together excitedly as he scans through Jisung's finished essay — Jisung's weary, battle-wounded ego finally inflates a little. "You did it! I can’t spot any major mistakes. Your handwriting is absolute shit, but we can work on that later. Good job!" Chenle exclaims, and for some unusual reason, blood rushes to Jisung's cheeks.
When Jisung sighs, it’s one that embodies his whole soul. “Thank you. I owe you.”
"Hm." Chenle lifts an eyebrow, a display that he's unfortunately entitled to. "You were protesting against me tutoring you a month ago. Now it's almost time for the Celestial Ball. How the tables turn!"
"Shut up," Jisung wails, not meeting Chenle's smug gaze. "You want something. What do you want from me?"
There's a tentative pause between them. Jisung knows for a fact that Chenle is seriously contemplating asking Jisung for a favour in return. Nonetheless, he wouldn't be able to refuse anything — Chenle says jump, and Jisung would ask how high. (Not because he would jump for Chenle, of course; it's more of an obligatory thing.)
A sudden yelp leaves Chenle's mouth, but Jisung doesn't flinch. A month of constantly being with Chenle Zhong does wonders to one's tolerance for jumpscares.
"Ah!" Chenle clicks his tongue happily. "I have an idea."
He pauses for dramatic effect, staring at Jisung intensely. Does he want a drum roll?
Chenle scoffs when Jisung blinks back at him cluelessly, but he quickly returns to his role. "Would you care to show some gratitude?"
What a vague statement. Essentially, normal for someone with Chenle's eccentric flairs. Jisung nods in Chenle's direction, silently prompting him to elaborate. However, Chenle simply stares back expectantly.
Their staring match goes on for a while before Jisung breaks the silence, slightly unnerved. "And? How do you want me to show you gratitude?"
"Do you really have no idea what I want from you?" Chenle shoves his head into his hands exasperatedly. "Oh my god. I'm out."
This time, instead of staring, Jisung giggles to himself when Chenle shoots out of his seat and stalks out of the library in a huff.
What's up with Chenle? Jisung still has no idea, but the same warmth blooms across his chest anyways. He doesn’t attempt to stop it from taking over anymore.
A few days later, Daegal flies through his window in a flurry of soft, blizzard white feathers.
Jisung catches the Little Owl in his arms as she chirps happily, snuggling into the palms of his hands. His heart melts at the sight, but when he catches a glimpse of the scroll tied neatly with a ribbon to her feet, it freezes.
A letter? He bites his lip as he carefully undoes the bow, Daegal hopping away free. No one sends him letters; Jaemin, the only exception, has been exceedingly busy with preparations for several events such as the Ball and Merlin knows what.
Heart thudding nervously in his chest, Jisung unfurls the parchment.
It reads:
Jisung Park:
I am absolutely done with you. You and your idiocy far surpass my imagination. Even after three months, somehow you have not managed to catch on. Absolutely unbelievable, I swear to God.
Anyways, since you still have not proven that there is a remaining living cell in that empty room of your head, I am taking initiative. Firstly: I think you are cute. Secondly: I would like to formally ask you to the Celestial Ball occurring in a few days.
I am inexplicably disappointed by the fact that you had failed to pick up on what I wanted from you. I knew you were a little oblivious, but I did not think that you would be this incorrigible. I have read your letters, and I assure you that no intelligent person would not come to the conclusion that you harbour some sort of crush on me.
Please approach me in person in order to accept my request. I do not take rejections when your answer to this is so painfully obvious.
Sincerely, completely done, Chenle Zhong.
One thing leads to another: Jisung ends up crying in Chenle's embrace in the darkness of the Hufflepuff common room at midnight.
("What the fuck do you mean, you're undercover?" It comes out as a pained screech.
"Jisung." Jaemin twiddles his thumbs, lacing his fingers together. "Well, you see. Jeno helps Chenle with Quidditch. They're really close."
"And," Jisung hisses, "what are you trying to say?"
"As a responsible adult, I felt the need to assist you two. It was getting painful," Jaemin emphasises. "I had to step in."
"So you've been passing my letters to him all this time?" Jisung yells.
"Uh. That's part of it." Jaemin lets out a deep breath. "He's been writing back to you since January. Not me."
Jaemin doesn't live to hear the tale of how Chenle and Jisung had spent their first date.)