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The room smells of paper, wood and warm dust, the particles floating sleepily through the air like barely visible stars or snowflakes. Jongin blames it on the massive bookshelves made from walnut wood that tower over the room and frame the window on the wall across the door.
But it’s possible that the true culprit is the array of maps, stowed away in a repurposed bin. They give off the smell of paper, ink and old colors that have faded under the sun that sneaks into each angle or corner the rolled-up maps provide during her daily dance through the window and across the room.
The afternoon outside has barely turned golden, the sun’s rays are lazily climbing through the window, hardly touching the backrest of the sandstone-colored leather sofa in the middle of the room that the two students have just entered. They still have lots of time.
Jongin instinctively draws in a deep breath, just like he always does. It’s almost like the smell of dust and old leather, of ink - the stuffy air of this small repurposed supply room that welcomes them every week with the same shades of brown, ochre and artichoke feels more comfortable than the fresh summer air outside, that May’s winds’ swirls around their legs and through different shades of tousled, brunet hair.
Jongin slowly puts down the bag he had slung across his shoulders, still soaking in the air and smell that wrap around him like a comfortable blanket, when Chanyeol, the person who has entered the room with him, walks past him, sets down a dark-blue guitar case on the right side of the sofa and opens the window.
Fresh air suddenly mingles and melts with the stuffy air in the room that Jongin so comfortably settled in and flushes thousands of dust stars like a flock of birds.
He sits down next to the guitar case and turns around to look over the backrest of the sofa and out of the window - or rather at the person who stands beside it, leaning onto the opened window frame.
His eyes trace the shape of broad shoulders clad in a crisp white shirt that is part of their school uniform. It doesn’t look as neatly ironed as his own anymore because the other boy seems to move around more. It’s wrinkled at the fold of his shoulders where the straps of his guitar case have pressed down and while the collar is correctly folded, it has lost the illusion of properness ever since he has loosened the tie around his neck a bit. It doesn’t look unkempt or untidy but laid back, an impression that is further amplified by his hazel hair that falls into his face in strands that reach below his big ears and tickle his nose. They’re just long enough for Chanyeol to tie them in the tiniest ponytail in the back but the strands in the front are too short and always escape the grasp of the burgundy hair tie that Chanyeol wears around his right wrist whenever he wears his hair loose.
It’s easy to catch those details for Jongin, it’s like he knows them by heart. He turns away with a coy smile when Chanyeol’s eyes meet his own. He hears the other chuckle before he closes the window again and wanders over to take up the seat next to him that has been occupied by the guitar case until just a few seconds ago.
“How was your algebra class? Seems like Mr. Kim let you off the hook earlier today,” Jongin wonders aloud, trying to cover up that he was just caught staring at his senior who just sighs in reply and rolls his eyes.
They talk about their classes sometimes and Jongin makes it a habit to try and memorize at least a few details of Chanyeol’s schedule. He knows from previous stories that his guitar tutor has a rather tense relationship with the stern algebra teacher who doesn’t seem to appreciate the musical ambitions of his student - or rather that he expresses it by subconsciously whistling during class. Jongin has grown confident enough to banter and joke about it with Chanyeol.
“I don’t understand why he is still giving me that look. It’s been weeks and it only happened once,” Chanyeol tries to defend himself as he plops down next to Jongin.
The sofa dips ever so slightly and Jongin adjusts the way he sits because the weight of the other makes his body follow the force of gravity, sliding a little closer.
“Last time you said it happened more than once and that your friends even warned you about it,” Jongin counters innocently but it’s hard for him to hide the sly grin that steals itself onto his face. Jongin actually thinks it’s cute and adds to Chanyeol’s charm.
“You’re such a distraction,” he adds teasingly.
“It’s a habit! It helps me focus!” Chanyeol throws his arms in the air in defeat before they land on the guitar case on his lap, Jongin just laughs.
He turns to his right to clumsily fish for his own bag that holds a guitar he has borrowed, that he discarded somewhere between one of the walnut shelves and the leather furniture, while he sees Chanyeol in the corner of his eyes unpacking his own guitar.
It’s like a routine, a secret ritual that they go through every week:
Jongin’s classroom is closer to the repurposed supply room, so he usually ends up waiting for Chanyeol in front of it. It’s only a few minutes before he can spot the thatch of silky hazel hair approaching through the hallway.
Once the tall senior has reached the storage room they nod at each other, sometimes even raise their hands in greeting but neither of them talks much before Chanyeol has fished out the supply room keys and opens the door. When they enter, Jongin takes a deep breath, as the dusty, warm air of the room greets its weekly visitors. After closing the door, Chanyeol puts his guitar case down on the sofa and walks across the room to open the window. It’s always the same. It’s a small dance, the unique, comfortable pattern their encounters have developed into.
They start their lesson with the same little warm-up practice every time. Chanyeol plays a little tune and starts to whistle to it, causing Jongin to respond with a shy laugh before he joins in and tries to follow the lead.
Sometimes Chanyeol stops and Jongin tries hard to continue the tune on his own, especially because the approving hum that rumbles out of Chanyeol’s chest makes his heart flutter.
It’s one of many things that do this to Jongin’s heart, but the nervousness has grown into a sweet, exciting sensation that travels through his body, following the rhythm of the songs as they play and practice together.
At the beginning, when Jongin just started out, Chanyeol would sit down next to him, hold his hands, and guide him to show him how he had to hold the guitar and where to press his fingers. He would be so close that Jongin could barely hear any of the other boy’s advice because his blood would rush through his face, and he could hear his own heart beating loudly in his ears.
It was exciting, but Jongin got so tensed that he would mess up once again, only for Chanyeol to shake his head gently and do it all over again.
He admires him for his patience and what he put up with him in the early days.
Still, Jongin thinks he prefers the way they do it now.
After the warm-up, Chanyeol rises just to sit down on the armchair across. He plays a section and Jongin gets to watch, his fingers trying to mimic the movement he has seen Chanyeol doing. Jongin likes that they can look at each other while playing and talking simultaneously.
“Oh, by the way, I tried this route to the Hydro Dungeon during lunch break earlier, the one you told me about. But it says I can’t proceed without a thieving ability. I even levelled up my lock-picking skill, but it doesn’t work,” Chanyeol rambles while he repeats one of their practice runs once again.
Jongin knits his eyebrows, his fingers still following what he can see Chanyeol play opposite of him.
“Well, lock-picking isn’t really considered a thieving ability in that quest. You probably need a Rogue on your team or make a pact with the Thieves Guild…” he ponders and Chanyeol hums in understanding.
“Man, sometimes I wish I was still a sophomore and had more time to play games. Now I need to use up all my time to study and prepare for entrance examinations,” he complains but Jongin knows from earlier talks that Chanyeol is actually excited about it. He also knows that his senior - albeit a diligent student - doesn’t spend half as much time in cramming schools as he does.
“I thought the music club takes up all your free time…”
“But music club is fun, and it counts as an extracurricular class, so it’s technically studying,” Chanyeol grins. He seems content with his reasoning and Jongin doesn’t disagree, after all his senior is talented and might actually be able to pursue music in the future if he keeps working as hard as he does.
Sometimes Chanyeol makes a joke, and they have to pause playing because he laughs with so much glee. Usually, Jongin can’t help but laugh, too. Not only because Chanyeol is funny - he charmingly laughs about his own jokes - they also seem to have the same kind of humour, but the way how he radiates and shines - his laughter filling the whole room- makes Jongin’s chest feel like it’s about to burst so he needs to make air of all the sensations.
Jongin watches Chanyeol’s fingers dance across the frets on the neck of his guitar, listens to his comments and advice while mimicking what the elder boy is pressing and playing. Sometimes, when he slips up and presses the wrong string, Chanyeol shakes his head and comments on how it’s alright if Jongin looks at his own hands while playing.
“You have such high expectations of yourself. It’s OK if you check, you don’t need to play blindly,” he says and Jongin agrees sheepishly and tries to pay better attention when they play the section again, but actually, it’s not his ambition that has led him to play like that. It’s just that his eyes like to wander and study the dips and planes of Chanyeol's face, or how his hair shines in the afternoon sun instead of looking at his own hands.
Learning how to play the guitar by mimicking his teacher wasn’t his choice of strategy for any vain reasons, but Jongin’s heart had started to play its own special music according to its own rules ever since Chanyeol became his teacher.
Since he saw him perform at one of their school’s summer festivals when he was still a freshman Jongin had a crush on him. It had grown and blossomed into something bigger and stronger the past months, but he was too shy to admit it or even think about the meaning of it. It was easier to just enjoy the tingly feeling that rushes through his skin whenever Chanyeol laughs or simply when he could watch him play.
Jongin still remembers how giddy and excited he was when he first realized that Chanyeol - out of all people - had volunteered to be his mentor and teacher for the music project this semester.
He had always thought about learning an instrument but ever since he was a child, music had always been something that made Jongin want to move and dance to, not necessarily something he felt fit to create himself. Learning an instrument was always an intriguing albeit intimidating thought, something Jongin would put on his bucket list and then just… never come around to actually try - until that opportunity came up.
Allured with the promise of extra credits for their music class, Jongin and a handful of other freshman year students from the literature and art majors had signed up for a semester-long project that allowed them to dip their toes into the “virtuous life of music” to “balance out their creative minds” and “complement their artistic ambitions,” as his teacher put it, literally.
Jongin appreciated the pompous choice of words, as they emphasized the excitement of his teacher faithfully, but he felt like she didn’t even need to advertise the project as such because all of them had already signed up for it before they first heard her say those words.
She let them decide on one instrument of their choice and then assigned students from higher levels of the music majors to tutor them.
The goal was to perform a song in front of her at the end of the semester and hand in a report to show what they had learned as well as illustrate the progress they had made in the past months.
When they first started out, Jongin would diligently keep account of what they learned each week, what it was good for and the progress he had made. Chanyeol was never tired of explaining technical and theoretical stuff to him as well - even though Jongin noticed that the boy was not good at hiding his initial amusement about Jongin’s log frenzies.
As their meetings grew into routines and everything fell comfortably into place, Jongin’s log activity started to calm down and he soon realized that it had been a way for him to hide his nervousness and deal with the excitement of meeting his crush every week.
He didn’t need it anymore, when he got to know Chanyeol better and learned new things about him as a person, what food he liked, that they had the same humor and played the same games on their mobile phones, and some of his habits - like how he would scratch the back of his neck when he was embarrassed or the way his forehead fell into creases when he frustratedly tried to blew a stubborn strand of hair out of his face, that had escaped the grasp of his burgundy hair elastic.
Chanyeol’s humming, the shine of his hair, his broad shoulders, and the way he wears his leisurely tied necktie leave enough space for Jongin’s eyes and thoughts to wander. It makes Jongin’s inside tingle and fills him with butterflies - Chanyeol was more than just “that boy he had a crush on”. Jongin learned that there was so much more to him, and it was exciting and new but also comforting and safe, especially when he realized that they had quite a lot in common and Chanyeol seemed to have a good time teaching him every week, too.
Chanyeol ceases to play but Jongin already knew that this would be the last chord by the way he curled his lips and took a content sigh, so it’s easy for him to stop at the same time. Jongin watches Chanyeol put down the guitar gently before he pats his legs and leans back for a moment.
They finished their warm-up and practice chords. As always, they take a small break and Jongin turns around to his bag to fish for his water flask.
In the corner of his eyes, he can see that Chanyeol - after a slight delay - is doing the same, as always.
“That one riff... you played it in a different tempo today,” he notices after taking a sip from his bottle.
Jongin looks up and then down on his hands again, “Oh, yeah… sorry if I messed it up. It’s something I saw in a video last week and thought it would be fun. It felt like it added a little more spice to it, gave it a different character…” he tries to justify but Chanyeol interrupts him with a warm chuckle and a shake of his head.
“I never said it was bad, I was just surprised. It was fun! And it’s nice to see that you feel so secure that you start to get out of your comfort zone, experiment a little.” He grins and nods affirmingly as he looks around the room and takes another swig from his bottle.
Chanyeol bounces his right leg while he drinks from the bottle, but it just makes Jongin smile. Sometime down the line, he noticed that it’s just one of the things the other does, like playing with the lid of his water bottle, shuffling his feet, or humming to himself. It’s little antics Chanyeol displays when he’s happy or excited and it makes Jongin’s heart beat a little faster whenever he realizes that there’s a slight chance that he could maybe be one of the reasons his senior has so much energy and excitement inside his body that he physically can’t hold still. It’s a small and silly thought, he has no proof for it, but it makes Jongin’s heart feel fizzy in the best way possible.
“Too bad you couldn’t join us for busking last weekend,” Chanyeol directs their conversation to a new and yet old topic.
“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” Jongin replies and shifts bashfully in his seat. It’s not the first time Chanyeol has mentioned his friends from the music club or busking and Jongin always gets very happy but also really nervous about it. He just never knows what to reply. It feels like a big honor to be considered good enough to go and play music on the streets of Jongno.
“I think you’d enjoy it! It’s more about having fun and I feel like you’d fit right in. I mean look at how you played around with that riff earlier!” Chanyeol’s voice swells up with restrained excitement, but it makes Jongin shy.
“I don’t know…”, he murmurs and tries to avoid the other’s hopeful eyes. It took him weeks to start playing in front of Chanyeol without the nervousness rattling through his system like an earthquake. He could never just go and busk with him and his cool music club friends. Jongin is just not cut out for it. He’d embarrass them in front of the whole street. “That would be pretty embarrassing,” Jongin confesses and rubs his hands together.
The excitement rushes out of Chanyeol’s face like cold rain, and he stays silent for a few seconds, blinking and looking around like he is searching for a specific point on the wall on the other side of the room.
“You know, it’s OK if you don’t want to play by yourself. Or if you’re nervous about new people…”, he says then - voice a lot slower all of a sudden, “We can just go and hang out. Just the two of us. Watch some of the performers, absorb the good mood and get some inspiration. There are also coffee shops, and, on the weekends, we could try some of the street vendors. They have really good food! This way, you don’t have to worry about your cramming school, and we’d have more time before it gets too late in the evening,” he suggests and Jongin hums. “I’m good.”
He recently started going to cramming school three times a week, but he feels like he is slowly getting used to the change in schedule. It’s usually harder for him to adjust and he didn’t really like the idea at first, but it turned out OK.
He feels almost bad for all the nice things Chanyeol says because it all seems a little too overwhelming. He doesn’t think Chanyeol is ingenuine or would say those things without meaning them but while decent enough for his project… Jongin doesn’t think he’s that good. Not good enough for busking, anyway. Never in a million years. The dreamy boy next to him mentions a couple of other fun places and what they could do there. Jongin thinks that Chanyeol’s friends must be so lucky to visit those places and have fun with him outside of school. He must admit that he caught himself daydreaming about Chanyeol and him going on a date in a place like that before but it’s not like that would ever actually happen.
Chanyeol eventually drops the subject again like he always does. Jongin is grateful that he doesn’t come up with even more out-worldly ways to encourage and compliment his improvement of playing the guitar.
They fall back into comfortable small talk for a bit until Chanyeol puts down the plastic bottle he has played with the last 5 minutes and gets up. He stretches, then adjusts his uniform and looks down to Jongin, who’s still sitting opposite of him.
“I’ll grab us a snack from the vending machine. My treat! And then we can try and perfect that routine for Mrs. Lee. Kind of wild to think that today’s the last session before the big day, huh? To be honest, I was worried you would be nervous about it… but you’re doing great,” somewhere on the inside, in the back of his mind, Jongin feels happy about the praise he detects in Chanyeol’s voice, but the words hit him like a brick in the face. He needs a moment to digest it all.
Chanyeol laughs to himself, before he continues, as he turns around to look for his wallet, “Not that you need to be nervous, though. You’re a fast learner and have the basics down since forever. Could hardly believe you never played before when we first started. Or maybe it's because you're the same as me and the jitters just come right before the performance…”
Jongin listens to him musing but it all sounds far, far away for him all of a sudden. He can barely respond before Chanyeol exclaims: “I’ll get us the usual, OK? It’ll be quick!” before he leaves the small supply room and Jongin alone with his thoughts.
He feels like his chest is on fire. It’s the last day. This is the last time they practice together.
This is the last time he got to breathe in the stuffy air of this room, the last time he could watch Chanyeol stand by the window, the last time he could watch his fingers dance across the guitar’s neck with the ease and playfulness of a child. The last time they chit chat about their homework, the new update for their favorite mobile game or their plans for the weekend. This is the last afternoon he gets to spend with Chanyeol.
He watches the sun as it dances through the window and across the backrest of the leather sofa he is sitting on. He can see how far she has wandered already, slowly starting to tint the room in all shades of yellow, orange and gold. It’s the same as always. The same colors, the same play of light and shadow as the light jumps across the room and into one of the old bins that hold yellowed maps.
The burning in Jongin’s chest dies out and makes room for the ashen sensation of disappointment. It was all the same. Every time since day one. Yes, he improved in his guitar play and he likes to believe that he grew closer to Chanyeol, and maybe they could have almost become something like friends. They never saw each other outside of their weekly practice sessions and Jongin didn’t mind. After all, the way dust stars danced around them, the way the walnut bookcases towered over them, silently and patiently listening in on their play, the never-changing dance of the sun… it all made it feel like time just stopped around them. It’s only now, that he painfully realizes, that he has run out of time.
-
The following day, Jongin stops next to the door of the repurposed supply room. Jongin’s classroom is closer, so he is used to waiting a few minutes. The early afternoon sun is still standing high, barely turning the air golden, as it lazily climbs through the window and across the flooring.
It should be so easy to spot Chanyeol. He is so tall that he towers over most of Jongin’s other seniors and a lot of their teachers, too. But despite his stature, something about his demeanor and how he talks, and laughs makes him not seem threatening at all. Jongin muses that it has to do with all the different sides and details he has seen of the giant; how gently he holds onto his guitar or how he purses his lips when he is focused, or the way he closes his eyes and hums faintly, lost in a song. It’s difficult for him to choose his favorite detail.
Jongin looks down the hallway and watches groups of students pass by.
Some of them are seniors and he recognizes some of them from his literature tutorial but the familiar head with silky hazel hair put together in a ponytail doesn’t appear.
The strings in Jongin’s heart pull and clench up painfully when he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and starts walking in the opposite direction.
How silly of him to come here on a Thursday and then get disappointed about his crush not showing up. He’s very much aware that they always meet on Wednesdays and since their practice sessions are over - his examination is Monday noon already - there is no reason for his senior to show up again. He is aware of that. He knows that Chanyeol has his own classes and clubs to attend to - he fondly remembers talking with him about it - and he still came here and set himself up for failure and disappointment.
Failure and disappointment, Jongin realizes in a sudden burst of despair-driven ideas while he waits for Chanyeol to return for their final rehearsal on Monday, might be his ticket out.
Out of feeling lost, out of missing their small sanctuary, hidden away in the sunny hours of Wednesday afternoon.
Chanyeol had noticed that Jongin “seemed a little off”. Worried that he had fallen victim to the jitters and sudden doubts, he had ordered them to sit down first.
“Hey, are you alright? No need to be nervous!”
Jongin rubbed his arms up and down in a nervous manner.
“I know…” he replied, unable to hide how dejected it sounded. Chanyeol patted his shoulder and let his hand rest on it for a few seconds. The warmth of his hand felt soothing but also distracting.
“You have everything it takes. And besides, the worst thing that can happen is that you don’t pass. But then we can just practice harder, and you will pass for sure! Wait for a second, I’ll get you a snack. Always helps with the nerves!”, he jumped up again and left the small classroom they were told to prepare in.
Jongin’s gaze follows him until he is out of sight. But even though he just watched him leave he is so caught up in his sudden thoughts, that he barely grasps that Chanyeol is gone. He observes the room and can’t help but painfully misses the lazy sunlight, the dust stars, the sandstone brown sofa and the warm air of their repurposed supply room. It suddenly feels so far away, stuck in time. Like a distant, fleeting summer dream.
And then it suddenly dawns on him: If he fails his examination, he will have to retake it during the summer. If he fails his examination, he can go back to practicing with Chanyeol. If he fails, he can save this special place in time. If he fails, he wins.
Jongin is still staring at the same spot on his borrowed guitar when Chanyeol returns with a small bag of potato chips and two bottles of green tea. Shortly after, they start their final practice round and Jongin gets to play the song he is meant to perform for his music teacher in less than an hour.
Chanyeol still plays quietly in the back as support and the way he nods encouragingly or grins approvingly when Jongin manages to play one of the passages with more difficult fingering manages to make him smile shyly. Jongin purses his lips because his insides tingle and his heart flutters inside of his chest but in the back of his mind, the bleak, sad truth, and his abrupt decision are still lingering.
His examination starts and Jongin feels like on autopilot. He is nervous, but not for the same reason as his classmates. He realizes quickly that it is a lot harder to willfully play bad when he spent the last month trying his best to make as few mistakes as possible.
He is delighted when he stumbles over an easy chord but has trouble disguising it as well as keeping it up. Everything sounds like it’s wrapped in a big blanket or cloud, and he grows sadder and sadder with every second that he can’t bring himself to mess up again.
Playing blindly, his eyes taking every chance they get to look at his crush has trained his muscle memory too well and it is at this moment that he wants to curse it all.
His performance ends as abruptly as it starts. Jongin feels like he has lost any sense of time. It always seemed to him as if time had stopped when Chanyeol and he were practicing, but now everything winds forwards. The song he carefully learned to play in a magical, everlasting summer dream is over in what feels like mere, cold seconds. He has run out of time. After some constructive feedback and compliments that Jongin doesn’t have the heart to recall, Mrs. Lee announces his defeat: Jongin passes.
Together with Chanyeol, who has been seated in the corner of the room, he gets up and bows at their teachers respectfully before leaving. It is now, when they are back in the grey, cold and empty classroom they played the rehearsal in before, that Jongin’s face breaks. He can’t hold it in anymore. He shivers and quakes, trying hard to not show how utterly disappointed and sad he is, as he tries to pack his bags hastily. It’s embarrassing but he feels so lost and choked up, it almost makes him feel ill.
He put his guitar back into the simple dark blue bag. He can finally give it back to the music club who kindly lend it to him, but Jongin’s fingers linger on the cloth a little longer. He will miss the guitar. Stowing away all his other belongings, he shakes his head and shoulders the bag once the zipper is fully closed. He carries the half-empty tea bottle Chanyeol got for him in his hand. Why is he that upset? Just because of that silly crush he has on his senior? No, Jongin realizes sadly that’s not it - he never thought he had a chance anyway. It’s the genuine connection he felt. The jokes, the comfortable exchanges, the way spending time in that dusty supply room made him feel like time stopped and they could just be vulnerable and true. He mourns the kind of person he thinks he might have been able to become if he just had more time, time to look at Chanyeol and hear him play. Jongin realizes that the little space, that little sun-light room full of dust stars in the afternoon, enchanted him more than stealing glances from his crush from afar ever could. Being there, in their own little space in time means so much to him that - losing all this - makes his chest hurt now.
He just wants to leave as soon as possible but when he exits the room, he feels someone hold him by the wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
It’s Chanyeol. But the senior, who usually smiles so bright that it lights up the room, has a serious expression on his face. He looks confused, almost sad, too.
“What’s wrong?”
He asks and Jongin realizes how little he was able to hide how he feels on the inside. He tries to wriggle out of the other’s grasp.
“Nothing,” he murmurs but Chanyeol doesn’t let go.
He huffs, pulling Jongin in another direction. Jongin tries to object at first, but his protest grows quiet eventually when he realizes where Chanyeol is dragging him to.
The practice room and its colors seem weirdly cool because the sun has yet to climb over the buildings and hasn’t reached the window yet. It’s like the big wooden shelves, the sofa in the middle and all the dust stars that usually greet them, dancing in golden light are still asleep. Jongin doesn’t think they have ever been here this early in the day and it makes the small supply room feel like it fell out of the flow of time, stranded somewhere where it wasn’t meant to be.
Jongin takes a deep breath. The air is still stuffy, like always but not as warm. He likes to believe that it still helps soothe his anxiety a bit.
Chanyeol makes his way past him and puts his blue guitar case down on the right side of the sofa before he lets go of Jongin’s wrist.
He doesn’t intend to run away and slowly sits down on the left side of the sofa, waiting for the fresh breeze to mingle with the air around him like he usually does, sitting there. But Chanyeol doesn’t seem to open the windows this time.
Jongin looks up when the guitar case next to him is lifted and put aside when Chanyeol sits down next to him. The air suddenly feels so much thicker between them.
“Hey, what happened?” Chanyeol's voice breaks through the silence that has engulfed them like a thick veil, “You did so well. Why do you look so upset? It’s almost like you’re sad that you passed.”
He has leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees while he presses his hands together. His eyes are focused on Jongin and a worried expression has rippled through the features that are usually adorned with a bright smile.
Seeing how worried Chanyeol is about him makes Jongin’s heart sink. He takes a shaky breath; he can’t keep it in any longer.
“I am,” he confesses - another deep breath - “somehow in a weird, twisted way I’m devastated that I passed. I was looking forward to the examination because of all the things you taught me but… but then I realised that... It's the end. Now that I passed, we can’t hang out here anymore. I’m… I know it probably sounds really weird for you to hear this and I’m afraid that you will think differently of me now, but I feel like I lose all of this. All the time we spent here. It somehow felt so special to me, and I really enjoyed hanging out with you, spending time together. But now that I passed, it’s all over.”
It’s quiet between them for a few seconds. Jongin feels how his cheeks grow warm when he finally stops rambling. He stares at his fingertips for a while because he doesn’t dare to look at Chanyeol - even though he is usually his favorite thing to look at.
Then, he hears it. It’s very low but his ears have grown so accustomed to the sound that he could distinguish it anywhere. It’s a chuckle. A small rumble of delight that murmurs through Chanyeol’s throat until it grows into a full laugh.
Jongin looks up in confusion. Chanyeol’s red face is hidden behind one of his big hands as he tries to hide and stifle the laughter that bubbles out of him.
“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I promise”, he insists and Jongin wants to believe him, but he is still very confused.
“It’s just,” Chanyeol speaks again when he has finally calmed down, leaning back forward, and resting his elbows on his knees once more - but this time he leans in closer towards him, “You realize that we can hang out and spend time together even when I don’t teach you, right?”
“I-,” Jongin doesn’t know what to say. He just stares at Chanyeol, whose eyes still wrinkle at the outer corners because of his big grin, eyebrows raised in question. Another chuckle rumbles up his throat.
“I’ve been trying to ask you to hang out for weeks now! But you always laughed it off or avoided it, so I stopped pressing you about it. I tried again last week, and I wasn’t even subtle about it but I never really got a reply or reaction from you. I thought you didn’t want to hang out with me beside the practice,” he confesses then, cheeks blushed, but Jongin doesn’t dare to figure out if it’s from embarrassment or something else.
Jongin lowers his gaze, facing his lap again and letting Chanyeol’s words sink in.
“Oh,” he voices quietly, causing Chanyeol to laugh again but it sounds much softer this time. “I thought you just said those things to make me feel good about my guitar playing… like very elaborate compliments,” he whispers. Now he feels almost stupid for not realizing it sooner.
“Jongin, I’m not the guy to beat around the bush. You should know that by now,” another chuckle fills the pause that occurs - he almost sounds nervous - before Chanyeol continues: “I really like you and I want to hang out with you.” His features turn even softer while a smile spreads over his face. But Jongin has a hard time focusing on what his crush looks like at that moment; the words have made his heart thump loudly in his chest and it makes his stomach feel like it is filled with butterflies.
-
Jongin’s bus stop is closer to their meeting spot, just in front of a big department store, so he ends up waiting for Chanyeol in front of it. It’s only a few minutes before he can spot the thatch of silky hazel hair approaching on the sidewalk.
It’s easy to spot Chanyeol. He is so tall that he towers over most of the other people taking a walk or busily rushing to their next appointment. But despite his stature, something about his demeanor and how he talks, and laughs makes him not seem threatening at all. Jongin muses that it has to do with all the different sides and details he has seen of the giant; how gently he holds his hand when they’re in crowded areas, making sure they don’t get separated, or how his eyes light up when presented with his favorite dessert, or the way he closes his eyes and hums faintly, lost in song when he plays guitar and lets Jongin watch. It’s hard for him to choose his favorite detail.
They make their way past the department store and turn into one of the side roads that lead away from the buzzing of the main street. Jongin likes how they automatically fall into comfortable small talk, while they make their way past small boutiques and shoe stores that play loud music to attract customers and lure them in from the street.
They talk about everything and nothing, all at the same time, and it feels nice and reassuring for Jongin. Sometimes they still meet at the supply room and Chanyeol will play songs for him on the guitar. Jongin notices that while Chanyeol’s fingers fly over the neck of the guitar skillfully - just like they always have - he sometimes slips up or stumbles over the strings just like Jongin stumbles over words.
One time, Chanyeol suddenly stopped in the middle of a song, a bashful expression on his face but his confession made Jongin blush even harder: “How funny, I just realized that this is almost like serenading you. I never did this for someone before but now I can’t hear the strings over the sound of my heart anymore.”
Sometimes they meet after Chanyeol’s club activities and walk around Hongdae and watch the different street performances, but Jongin’s favorite destination is the coffee shop they are aiming for today.
It’s a cozy corner store with big windows and small tables. The waiter’s burgundy aprons remind Jongin of Chanyeol’s hair tie and the tabletops remind him of walnut wood - just like the bookshelves in the small, repurposed supply room.
They sit down at one of the tables and before Jongin can even say anything, Chanyeol walks over to the counter to fetch the drinks they have ordered.
Jongin smiles and thanks him when he puts down the cold plastic cup. Their hands touch as Jongin reaches out to take the drink from the table but when he tries to pull back, Chanyeol holds his fingertips, then his whole hand and lays them on the table next to their drinks. He smiles at Jongin, his hands softly squeezing his hand before he continues the conversation they started before entering the store.
“So, what I was saying earlier…”, Chanyeol starts and Jongin listens but the way their hands are intertwined and the sensation of big warm fingers wrapping around his own distracts him so much that he is barely listening.
“Don’t you agree?” Chanyeol’s enthusiastic voice suddenly rips Jongin out of his daydreams and his head shoots up in confusion.
“Huh?” Chanyeol snickers - it’s a loving, soft sound - before he repeats, still playing with their fingers. “I just said that it’s nice to just do nothing together sometimes. The exams are coming up, so it’s good to rest up and recharge and just do things we enjoy, right?”
Jongin nods. He’s nervous but still manages to smile shyly. This is all so new to him but feels like they have been like this forever all the same. He’s not sure if he will ever get used to the rush and how his heart hammers against his chest, the soft yet exhilarating feelings that bubble through his stomach. It’s a nice feeling, a tingling sensation that runs through his whole body and makes him feel warm. It’s so exciting, he’s not sure if he ever wants to get used to it.
The afternoon outside has barely turned golden, the sun’s rays are lazily climbing through the big display windows, barely touching the backrest of the sandstone-colored leather seats in the middle of the room. They still have lots of time. Together.