Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Tuesday, December 20th

Riki tightens his grip on the phone, moving it from one ear to the other, unsure if he's hearing correctly. But the words coming through the line stay the same no matter what, clear and crisp and bringing the same achy feeling of disappointment he gets every time he talks to his mother.

“It’s just not a good time for us,” she says, even though she’d already given him three different, far more believable reasons for not wanting him with them for Christmas. “Things are still getting settled.”

Things have been settled. His mom married his new stepdad nearly six months ago – plenty of time for things to settle, and they did, but only once Riki wasn’t under their roof anymore. It's not that things aren’t settled. It’s that Riki’s presence would unsettle her, and she can't have that.

His mother avoids difficult feelings just as well as Riki himself does. Normally, he’d be more than happy to skip out on the difficult feelings that come with going home for Christmas. But that's the thing – this year, he wasn't supposed to go home. He was supposed to go with her to New York, for a trip that Riki has been anticipating ever since she’d promised it to him over the summer.

And now, she's telling him he can’t join them. Now, she's telling him that instead, he has to stay at the boarding school he attends, the boarding school she forced him to attend.

He hates being here on a good day. The idea of being here on Christmas, no matter how menial and silly the holiday may be, is making his stomach churn unpleasantly.

“You promised,” he attempts meekly. He knows it won’t change her answer – she’s made and broken countless promises to him before without hesitation – but he, admittedly, just wants her to feel a sting of guilt.

She just sighs. “Yes, well. He and I just haven’t gotten time to spend together since the wedding. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“I don’t understand,” Riki says, his tone sharpening, anger bubbling just below the surface of his skin, threatening to boil over and scorch the freshly mopped floor of the secretary’s office. “This is bullshit. You promised.”

“Honestly, Riki,” she starts, tone dripping with condescension, “You need to stop only thinking about yourself. This will be good for all of us.”

“How is being trapped in this fucking –” he cuts off, lowering his voice, feeling a disapproving glare from the secretary on his back, “– This hellhole on Christmas going to be good for me?”

His mother scoffs, and then pulls the phone away from her ear and mutters something Riki can’t quite make out. He’s sure it’s to his stepfather, and he’s sure it’s some reassurance that everything is going fine, even though Riki feels like he could put his fist through the very high quality wood of the wall in front of him, and she doesn’t seem to care at all. “Maybe a little adversity will build character. Maybe it will do you good to have some extra time with your studies.”

Riki’s had enough adversity to last a lifetime already, and for the record, his grades are fine. They’re great, even. But she wouldn’t know that. She doesn’t pay attention to his report cards when they arrive, only to the phone calls she gets when he’s done something to earn him detention, or the two separate times she’s had to come pick him up and bring him home for week long suspensions in the time since he switched to this school.

Those are the only things that ever stick in her mind, when it comes to him.

“I have to go,” his mother says eventually, impatiently. “I don’t want to hear that you’re giving anyone any trouble while you’re there, okay? No trouble at all.”

“Okay,” Riki agrees, his anger replaced by total numbness, finally finding himself unable to keep arguing with her when she’s clearly made her mind up about the trip – and about him. “Fine.”

She sighs again, and it sounds even more irritated than the one before, even though Riki already relented. It's as if she wasn’t hearing him at all, as if she thought there was something more lying just under his two simple words, something she felt would burden her in the near future. A promise of trouble ahead, which is likely what she hears every time Riki opens his mouth.

“I’ll be in touch, okay?” She says, even though they both know it’s a lie.

“Alright,” Riki says. “Love you.”

The line goes dead. Riki hangs up the phone. He avoids the eye contact that the secretary is attempting to seek from him, knowing it would come with a similar expectation of trouble put upon him. He isn’t planning on causing any trouble. He never is.

It just always seems to find him anyway.

Riki tries to keep to himself. He tries to sit still, tries not to give anyone any reason to distrust him, to look down on him. He gets good grades – really, he does – and he keeps as quiet as he can during class. He’s a near-perfect student within the four walls of the classroom, and what happens outside of that, he believes to be less than important.

He's here to learn, and he's good at learning. It shouldn’t matter that he struggles socially – that’s the word they always use, struggle, like Riki is in some kind of battle, some kind of fight he never instigated, never asked for. He doesn’t even believe that he has any problems socially, because he just doesn’t socialize anymore.

He doesn’t see eye to eye with his peers. That’s another phrase they like to use a lot. But Riki is of the belief that he doesn’t see eye to eye with them because they’re the ones that refuse to stop looking down on him. If they would meet his eye, he would meet theirs.

Then there would be no struggle at all.

The first time he got suspended, it was for punching some kid in the jaw – but more than that, it was because the kid’s last name sits on a plaque above the library. He maintains that he deserved it, because he was picking on someone smaller than him, but they didn’t see his reasoning – or more likely, they wanted the plaque to stay above the library door and for the money to keep rolling in from one of their top donors. So Riki took a week off.

The second time was for pulling the fire alarm, and he maintains that he was well within reason to do so. No, there wasn’t a fire, but there was that same kid getting picked on, and if they didn’t want him punching people anymore, what else was he supposed to do?

Between suspensions, there’s always detentions, but Riki greets those like an old friend, now. Detentions for talking back, for fights they couldn’t prove he started, for vandalism they couldn’t fully prove either. Riki walked the line a lot, seemingly always on the verge of his third suspension, the one that would get him sent home for good.

It would be tempting, to stop toeing the line and dive head first into a one way ride out of this place – if not for what would inevitably come afterwards.

Suffice it to say, when Riki walks into the classroom that normally serves as the location for after-class detentions, it feels more like home than his own dorm room does. And from today on, it'll be serving as the meeting place for all the people forced to stay at school for the holidays.

Like one long detention, really. Riki certainly feels detained right now.

There are five others already there. Riki is clearly the last to arrive, because all eyes land on him with an air of annoyance that tells him they'd been waiting on him to get started.

“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Nishimura.” The teacher that would be supervising them, Mr. Chen, glares at him in disapproval as he passes, taking unhurried strides towards the desk in the very back corner of the room.

Riki salutes him as he takes his seat. “You’re very welcome, sir,” he says in a mocking tone. “Feel free to commence what will surely be a deeply inspiring speech.”

Mr. Chen just rolls his eyes. “We’re waiting on one more, Mr. Nishimura, if you wouldn’t mind inspiring some silence within yourself.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” Riki says dryly.

He takes the opportunity to look around the room, to see if he recognizes any of his co-habitants, dread overtaking him when he realizes that he definitely does.

Jake Sim sits in the front row, ankles crossed over one another under his desk, chewing on his pencil as he stares up at the ceiling. Sunoo Kim sits in the seat next to Jake, cheek resting on his palm as he scribbles circular motions across his notebook in front of him. Heeseung Lee sits in the back corner across from the desk Riki had chosen, slumped down in his chair, pulling an eraser apart and leaving a growing pile of its remains on the table below him.

The other two, Riki doesn’t know, at least not well enough to put a name to. He thinks one of them might be Jay Park, but it’s hard to know for sure, because he’s got a pair of sunglasses on, which – actually, that does align with the impression he has of him. The other guy, sitting on the other side of Jake, has a cast on one foot and crutches leaned up against his desk. Riki’s pretty sure he's never seen him before in his life.

So far, it’s not looking like a lineup of people he wants to be stuck with all day every day for the next two weeks. Especially not on Christmas.

And then – like the proverbial cherry on top, Jungwon Yang walks in, all wide eyes and red cheeks, and Riki starts mentally writing out his last will and testament.

“Sorry,” he says, breathless and panicked. Riki averts his gaze to the ground. “Sorry, sir. I couldn’t find the room.”

Of course he couldn’t. Jungwon Yang has never even come close to getting a detention. He's never had a reason to come to this room, not like Heeseung or Riki so often do.

“Not a problem, Mr. Yang,” Chen says, much more forgiving with him than he was with Riki. He’s not offended. He gets it. “Take a seat.”

Jungwon scans the room, and his eyes get a little wider when they land on Riki, but they quickly move away before he can give too much of a reaction. He takes the seat next to the presumed Jay Park.

“Glasses off, Mr. Park,” Chen orders, and the no-longer-presumed Jay obliges without protest, pushing them up to rest on the top of his head, revealing a deep bruise around his eye that no one seems particularly surprised by – except for Riki. He’s not surprised that he’s surprised, though. He’s out of the loop these days. “Pay attention, because I will not repeat myself. You will meet here every morning at nine, not a minute later,” Chen says, looking right at Riki as he does, “And you will study, or work on assignments, or do something productive until three. And then you will go to the cafeteria for dinner at five, and then you’ll be given four hours of free time until lights out at ten.”

“But sir,” Sunoo starts, leaning forward in his chair, most likely fluttering his eyelashes at him in a way that was deceivingly innocent. “That’s the same schedule that we always have.”

“Indeed it is. Is that a problem, Mr. Kim?”

“Well, no,” Sunoo says. “But it’s our holiday break. Shouldn't we get more free time because of that?”

“We can’t have you just freely roaming at all hours of the day, though, can we?”

“I guess not, but –”

“No buts, Mr. Kim. You will have free time on the weekend, and on Christmas day. Surely that is generous enough,” he tells them, scanning over the room with a look in his eye one would expect a bunch of hardened criminals to be on the receiving end of – not a group of seven slightly petulant teenagers. “Now, I am responsible for your safety, but I expect that you’re generally all grown enough to care for yourselves. So I do not want to have to deal with any of you unless that safety is at risk. Serious risk. Otherwise, I will be in my office working, and I ask that you do not disturb me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be supervising us?” Heeseung mumbles judgmentally.

Chen’s eyes shoot over to him and narrow. “Oh, you’ll feel plenty supervised, Mr. Lee. I have access to all of the security camera footage, and I intend on reviewing it thoroughly every night. If I catch any of you not following the schedule I just described, or getting up to any other sort of nonsense, I assure you, you will be dealt with accordingly.”

Riki rolls his eyes. Chen is bluffing. He knows that the camera feed is grainy beyond recognition, and only half of them are working at any given time, but the others don’t seem to share in his knowledge. Sunoo and Jake share a defeated glance, like all of their big plans for the break had just been crushed one after another. He’s sure they would have been very exciting plans, because everything Jake and Sunoo do is always the most important thing to happen at this school.

“I should also mention,” Chen starts again, “That they will be turning off the heat in the dorms, so you will all be sleeping in the infirmary.”

A chorus of groans echoes around the room, and Sunoo opens his mouth – likely to protest – but he never gets the chance.

“Yes, yes, I know, but I assure you that you'll all live. Are we all clear on our instructions?” Chen asks, more than a little condescendingly. They all nod, some more reluctantly than others. “Good. You will remain here until three, and then I will see you at dinner at five.”

“Oh, what about the two hours in between three and five?” Sunoo chimes in again.

“Ah, yes. Well, there you go, Mr. Kim, you get even more of that free time you were requesting.”

Sunoo doesn’t seem fully satiated by this, sending Jake another glance, this one more irritated than disappointed. He just returns it with a reassuring smile. Jake is always smiling. Riki finds it unnerving, but he also finds it – cute. Unfortunately.

Jake Sim has always fascinated Riki, ever since he started attending Decelis and had a brief stint on the soccer team that Jake captained. Riki was never any good, never put any sort of effort in, and only joined in the first place because his mom was on his ass to get involved, but Jake always encouraged him anyways, always smiled at him and told him he was improving even when he knew he wasn't. Riki, without fully realizing and much to his chagrin when he eventually did, found himself drawn to him in a way that he was self aware enough to recognize as a crush. He liked his wide smile, and his thick Australian accent, and his hair that looked soft to the touch, and the way he always speaks gently, even when he's yelling out orders to his teammates.

He’s nice. Riki resents him for it just as much as he admires him.

Outside of practice, Jake never paid him too much attention, and when he quit the team after only a month, he stopped paying him any at all. Sometimes he would smile at him when they passed each other in the hallways, and Riki's traitorous heart would skip a beat, but all he was ever able to do in return was press his lips into a frown and avert his eyes to the ground.

So, it's probably Riki's fault that they didn't stay friends, that they never really became friends to begin with. He never put off a welcoming sort of vibe, because he couldn't welcome Jake, could hardly even look him in the eye without imagining what it would be like to kiss that wide smile off of his face.

He thought he'd gotten over it, his crush. He definitely tried to get over it, but clearly, he’s still holding onto a little sliver of it. Because when Chen leaves, and Jake turns in his seat and gives Riki a small smile, his heart skips the same familiar beat it always does.

He doesn't return the smile this time, either. He suddenly feels a pressing need to busy himself with locating a pen in his bag.

“Well this is bullshit,” Heeseung says, slapping both of his hands down onto his desk and using them to hoist himself out of his chair. “Any of you rich fucks got a quarter?”

Riki tosses him one without question, and Heeseung catches it with a pleased grin, pointing at him in approval.

“Good man,” Heeseung says proudly. “If you wanna double it, I’ll grab you a Coke too.”

Riki tosses him another quarter.

“We’re not supposed to leave,” Jungwon says matter-of-factly, turning in his chair to face Heeseung. “Mr. Chen said we have to stay here until three, and he’s going to look at the cameras –”

“Chen can’t even keep his eyes open long enough to figure out how to turn the tape player on. He’s not checking shit. You’re going to deny this fine young man his soda?” Heeseung asks in a mocking tone, gesturing wildly at Riki and then clutching his chest like he was experiencing a cardiac event.

“I’m just saying, we’re not supposed to leave.”

“What if I have to piss?” Crutches Guy asks, with a sort of distant dawning horror on his face as he turns around, too.

“Yeah? What if he has to piss?” Heeseung agrees.

“Can you even piss with that thing on?” Jay asks.

“The cast is on my foot, not my dick,” Crutches Guy says with a roll of his eyes. “I just need help getting up.”

“I’m not helping you get anything up. Especially not your dick.”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, snapping his fingers once to get their attention. “I’ll take a couple more quarters and get you all Cokes, and we can load ol’ Peg Leg here up and see if he can make it to the bathroom fast enough when he has to go.”

“You’re an asshole,” Sunoo says under his breath, but he gets up a moment later, walking to the back of the room, tossing three quarters onto Heeseung’s desk, presumably to cover him and Jake and Crutches Guy. Then he glances at Jungwon, and puts another one down, but his mouth twists into a frown as he does it. “He’s on his own,” he says, nodding towards Jay.

“I’m good,” Jay says easily, and Heeseung shrugs, saluting them all in thanks before taking his leave without any hesitation. “I’m not a sucker like the rest of you.”

“What does that mean?” Sunoo asks, still frowning, sitting back down at his desk.

Jay just quirks the corner of his mouth into a smug grin, and doesn’t elaborate any further.

“It means we just gave him enough for a pack of Marlboros,” Riki tells them nonchalantly.

“Motherfucker,” Sunoo hisses, then looks at Riki – something he’s pretty sure has never happened before in all of documented human history. “You don’t think he’s going to get them?”

“I think he’s probably headed straight for Steve’s.”

“Steve? Who’s Steve?” Crutches asks.

“The janitor. You guys don’t know Steve?” Riki questions. “He sells smokes out of his storage closet. He’s got a whole business going.”

“Of course he doesn’t know that,” Sunoo says snidely, narrowing his eyes. “Not all of us are degenerates like you and him.” His face wrinkles in disgust as he says him, making it clear he has no great love for Heeseung. He’s not surprised. There’s not many people who do hold him in high regard – Riki just happens to be one of them.

“And yet, here we all are,” Riki says.

Jake snorts, and Riki’s eyes shoot over to him, but he doesn’t lift his head from where he’s boring his eyes into his textbook, putting on the charade of doing what Chen had instructed them to do and studying.

“This isn’t detention,” Crutches says, almost frantic. “We’re not here because we’re in trouble. Or – I don’t know, maybe you are,” he says, nodding towards Jay.

Jay rolls his eyes, but stays silent otherwise.

“Yeah,” Sunoo says, something like inspiration suddenly swirling in his eyes. “Yeah. This isn’t detention. They can’t make us stay.”

“But you’ll get detention if you leave,” Jungwon counters.

Sunoo just waves dismissively. “He said Chen doesn’t check the cameras,” he says meaningfully, and then his gaze once again slides over to Riki. “Is that true?”

“What makes you think I know that?” He asks, even though he absolutely does.

“You knew about the cigarettes,” Sunoo points out. “You seem like you know shit. Don’t hold out on us.”

Riki considers this for a few long moments, making a big show of thinking hard about it.

“God. What do you want?” Sunoo asks dryly.

“A quarter,” Riki says, a slow grin unfurling on his face, “For a Coke.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Crutches sighs. “We’re not falling for that twice.”

Sunoo gets up again.

“Sunoo, we’re not falling for that twice,” he insists.

Sunoo puts a quarter on Riki’s desk, staring him down like he thinks he’s still in charge, like he hadn’t just been swindled out of a full dollar by Heeseung and Riki. He tilts his head, crosses his arms, and waits. “Go on, then.”

“Cameras are shit. They said they were the newest model when they got them installed, but they're not. They cheaped out on them, so they barely work. Most of the time, it’s all just static, if they even turn on. Which about half of them don’t, usually. It’s not always the same half, but it’s always half,” Riki explains.

“So if we leave, there’s only a fifty percent chance we get caught?”

“There’s a zero percent chance we get caught,” Riki corrects. “Static, remember? And Heeseung’s right, Chen barely knows how to use them, let alone watch a full day’s footage, even if he does speed it up, which he also doesn’t know how to do. And he’s the only staff member here – except the lady working in the kitchen, and Steve, but he’s not gonna rat us out. We’re his best customers.”

Sunoo just stares at him for a few long seconds, unblinking. “If you’re lying –”

“Why would I be lying? I’m about to leave, too. You think I’d be doing that if I thought I’d get caught?”

“I think it probably doesn’t matter to you like it matters to us,” Sunoo says, gesturing to the people sitting behind him, the important people, the people that matter. A bitter taste suddenly fills Riki’s mouth.

“Trust me,” he starts, unable to keep the heat, the anger, from seeping into his tone, “There’s not much that matters about you.”

Sunoo’s mouth drops open in offense, and he sputters out an excuse me – but Riki is already up, snatching his quarter from the desk and storming off in the direction of the hall. He keeps his pace until he reaches the vending machine, shoving his coin in and waiting for it to dispense the can.

“Hey, kid,” Heeseung’s voice echoes from the end of the hallway, and Riki looks over at him. He’s already got his uniform in a state of disarray, because the one upside of this whole thing is that they don’t have to follow the dress code anymore. His jacket is gone, shirt unbuttoned to reveal the wrinkled white t-shirt underneath, tie dangling off of one shoulder. There’s a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, an open pack in one hand, and an open Coke in the other. “Steve gave me a holiday discount. You want one?”

Riki shrugs, grabbing his drink from the bottom of the machine and walking over, grabbing a smoke from the pack and pulling out his lighter, lighting his own and then Heeseung’s. They end up sitting up against the wall next to the vending machine, because they know it blocks the camera’s view, if Chen does end up checking and that one miraculously ends up working.

“Hold this,” Heeseung says, handing him the pack, pulling out another can from his pocket and setting it down on the ground beside him. “I got the injured kid one. I actually really wanna know if he can make it to the bathroom in time.”

Riki snorts. “They’re under the impression that you won’t be coming back with any.”

“Then I’ll surpass their expectations,” Heeseung says with a grin, then sighs a moment later. “Bunch of assholes. Of all the people we had to get stuck here with.”

Riki nods, turning his head to blow the smoke away from Heeseung, just to be polite. He doesn’t want to piss Heeseung off. He kind of likes him sometimes. “Sunoo Kim still fuckin’ hates you. What’d you do to him, again?”

Heeseung gives him a look that tells Riki he’d asked a stupid question.

“No shit,” Riki says in a mix of awe and disbelief. “You fucked him?”

“No one would ever believe you if you told,” Heeseung says, not a threat, just an observation. “Man, can you imagine the outrage? Our reigning monarch Sunoo Kim, slumming it with me. I think they’d probably form an angry mob and come at me with fuckin’ pitchforks.”

“Are you guys still –?”

“Fuck no,” Heeseung says with a bitter laugh, ashing his cigarette onto the floor beside him. “It was just a couple months. Last year.”

“He dumped your sorry ass?”

“I dumped him,” Heeseung corrects.

“No way,” Riki scoffs.

“I thought I was gonna graduate. Didn’t know I was gonna get held back, so – thought I’d better cut him loose. We barely even liked each other, anyway.”

“Then why were you with him?”

Heeseung gives him another look as he blows smoke out of his mouth, unconcerned with it blowing right into Riki’s face. Another stupid question.

“Right,” Riki laughs a bit. “And that’s why he hates you? Because you ended things?”

“He hates me because I was an asshole to him,” Heeseung says. “I treated him like shit. I actually feel pretty bad about it, now. But you know I wasn’t in a good place last year.”

“And you’re in a better place now?” Riki asks, and he means for it to sound almost taunting, but it doesn’t.

“Flunking out has, seemingly, humbled me.”

“Maybe you should do it again, then. You could use a little more humbling.”

Heeseung laughs, shaking his head. “What about you? Still spending all your time gawking at Jake Sim?”

Riki looks at him, mouth dropped open in shock, eyes wide. “I don’t –”

“Save it,” Heeseung waves dismissively. “You must be excited about being stuck here with him. Gonna make a move? I’ll tell you all my favourite dark closets –”

“Shut up,” Riki says with a forced chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna do shit. I just wanna get through the next two weeks without getting kicked out.”

“Boring,” Heeseung sighs. “You gonna force me to entertain myself?”

“No,” Riki says, taking one last long drag of his cigarette, dropping it on the floor and crushing it under his shoe. “I’m just saying we can’t get caught.”

Heeseung grins, almost wicked. “Good man,” he says, getting to his feet and offering Riki a hand. “Now, c’mon. Let’s go do a good deed and give a hobbled young man a Coke.”

“Absolutely not,” Sunoo declares, looking around the room they’d been ushered into after dinner with horror. “Sir, with all due respect, I’m not comfortable sharing a room with half of the people here. You want us all to sleep in one room?” He asks their teacher, desperately gesturing to the eight beds that line both walls.

“This way, you can all keep each other in check,” Chen says simply. “No one is going to sneak out with six other people there to catch them.”

“Unless, of course, we all sneak out together,” Heeseung says dramatically, then tacks on belatedly, “Sir.”

Chen stares at Heeseung for a few long seconds, and then his eyes flicker over to Riki, then back to Heeseung. “Three in one room, four in the other.”

“Thank god,” Sunoo sighs.

“Mr. Kim, you’ll stay in here with Mr. Sim and Mr. Lee.”

Sunoo’s eyes go wide, and his face turns an impressive shade of red, and for a long second, he seems to be stuck in some sort of loop of opening and closing his mouth, sputtering out pathetic attempts at protesting. “I – I can’t – with him, absolutely not –”

“The other four of you will be in the room across the hall, and I will be in my office. I will hold you all responsible for the whereabouts of your roommates, so please regulate yourselves accordingly. And I don’t want to hear of any room switching, or arguing, or – just no nonsense, yes?”

They all nod, except Sunoo, who is completely frozen in place, fists balled at his side like he was considering throwing one in Chen’s direction. Riki would pay good money to see that happen.

He leaves after that, and Jake is the first to move, putting a hand on Sunoo’s back and using it to lead him in the direction of the room they’d been put in together. They all disperse, Riki claiming the bed in the back corner before any of the other three can. Jungwon chooses the bed across from him, Jay chooses the one next to Riki, and Crutches Guy chooses the one as far away from the rest of them as he can get.

There’s nowhere to unpack the stuff they’d brought over from the dorm rooms, so they all just shove their bags under their flimsy looking beds. Riki prefers it that way, truthfully. He doesn’t want his stuff out in the open, at least not with this particular group of people around. Not that it really matters. The only known thief in the room is Riki himself, at least according to the headmaster – and his mother.

He doesn’t consider himself a thief. He considers himself someone who is often found in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong thing in his pocket.

The only thing he does take out of his bag is his Walkman and the headphones attached to it, brushing his hair out of his face and sliding his headphones over his ears, pressing play on The Smiths cassette that was already in there and turning the volume all the way up as he flops down onto his chosen bed. It creaks menacingly under him, but perseveres, and he has to spend a few long seconds repositioning his pillow until it no longer feels like his neck is about to snap, but all in all, it’s not the worst.

He’s sure it’s better than the beds at the military school his mother plans on shipping him off to if he gets kicked out.

Jungwon is looking at him. He’s pretty sure he thinks he’s going unnoticed, because Riki’s eyes are only open a crack, but he has a perfect view of the way Jungwon keeps glancing up at him over the top of the book that was blocking most of his face.

Riki opens his eyes. Jungwon looks down at his book, lifts it higher until his entire face is covered. He closes his eyes again. It’s still early, but Riki doesn’t feel like being conscious and in the presence of these people any longer. Not to mention it usually takes him hours to fall asleep, so – he might as well get a head start. Maybe he could get a full night’s rest for once. Unlikely, but not impossible.

His music is loud enough that he’s unaware of his surroundings, unaware of whether the others are going to bed too, or if they’re risking Chen’s wrath and sneaking off. He doesn’t feel any need to know what they’re doing. He’d rather forget their existence entirely.

He drifts off eventually, or he’s pretty sure he does, at least, because his eyes open to the dark room around him and he has to blink sleep out of them before he sits up. There’s a clock in the hallway that Riki can’t make out, but he’s assuming it’s shortly after midnight, because his internal clock is as consistent as it is hateful.

Jungwon’s bed is empty. The other two are both in their beds and snoring loudly, but Jungwon is nowhere to be seen. The book he was reading is laying open and face down on the floor next to his bed, and the sheets are rumpled like he’d been tossing and turning before he gave up and left. Riki, without really thinking, finds himself getting up, his socked feet hitting the cold floor of the infirmary and snapping him out of his daze.

What was he about to do? Go look for him? Jungwon isn’t his responsibility, even if Chen claims he is. Jungwon’s never been his responsibility, even if Riki used to think he was.

He’s just going to go for a quick walk. He’s not looking for Jungwon, he’s just – clearing his head.

The halls are eerily silent, save for the soft pat of his socked feet against the hardwood floor and the click of his lighter as he lights and extinguishes it over and over again. He walks by Chen’s office, takes his headphones off long enough to hear the muffled sound of his radio on low, hears his loud snoring almost drowning it out entirely. He walks by the gym, which is off-limits to them because it’s under renovation and the floors are being redone, and he can see that half of it is shiny and new while the other half remains dull.

It’s all the same shit, otherwise. Slightly more interesting than the nightly walk he’s used to doing, pacing around the hallways of his dorm building every time he can’t sleep, but still ultimately the same shit.

And there’s no sign of Jungwon – at least, not until he passes the auditorium and finds one of the doors cracked open, with someone’s slipper being used as a doorstop. Echoing out from inside is the sound of the piano being played, soft and slow, like whoever’s playing it is worried the sound will carry, even though the infirmary and Chen’s office are on the complete other end of the school.

Riki pulls the door open until there’s enough room for him to peer inside. Sure enough, Jungwon is sitting at the piano that sits dormant and mostly unused in the corner of the stage. He’s in his pyjamas, with one slipper on, and the observation has Riki belatedly realizing that he’d fallen asleep in his uniform, and that it’s wrinkled to hell and back now, which means he’ll have to iron it before classes start again.

The sound of the door creaking open more is enough to startle Jungwon, and there’s a dissonant clang from the piano that bounces off the walls around them as he looks at Riki with his eyes round and his mouth agape.

“Sorry,” Riki mutters, stepping in and letting the door fall shut, the slipper staying in place and keeping it from closing all the way. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Jungwon breathes, removing his hands from the keys and planting them on his knees, then lifting one to run his fingers through his hair, then putting it back on the keys, then back on his lap. He’s restless. He’s always been a bit nervous in Riki’s presence, even after he made it clear he’s not a threat. Not to him, at least.

“Can’t sleep?” Riki asks, pulling his lighter back out of his pocket, fiddling with it but not igniting it as he walks down the aisle and approaches the stairs leading up to the stage.

Jungwon shakes his head. “That bed is horrible,” he sighs. “I don’t know how Mr. Chen expects us to sleep well on them.”

“I don’t think he really cares,” Riki says with a snort. “Maybe he thinks if we’re all sleep deprived, we’ll be too tired to cause any trouble.”

“Well,” Jungwon huffs. “I don’t plan on causing trouble anyway. I just want to sleep.”

Riki just nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was thinking about getting one of the gym mats and putting it on top of my bed. You can come and get one too, if you want.”

“We can’t go into the gym,” Jungwon says matter-of-factly.

“And if anyone asks, we didn’t,” Riki says easily.

Jungwon rolls his eyes. “I think I’m good.”

Riki shrugs. “If you say so.”

A few long seconds of silence pass between them, and then Jungwon sighs, getting up and trudging down the stairs, walking right past Riki and slumping down in one of the folding seats in the front row. “What are you listening to?” He asks eventually, nodding towards the Walkman sticking out of his pocket. “You were playing it so loud earlier I could hear every word.”

“Is that why you were staring at me?” Riki asks, more than a little bluntly.

“I wasn’t staring at you,” Jungwon says with another roll of his eyes. “But yes, that’s why.” There’s something in his tone that tells Riki that’s not the whole truth, but he lets it slide for now.

“The Smiths,” he tells him, pulling out his Walkman and waving it around when Jungwon’s brows furrow in confusion. “That’s what I’m listening to.”

“Never heard of them,” Jungwon says.

Riki looks at him in concern. “Really?”

“Are they any good?”

“I think they’re good.”

Jungwon just extends his hand, and Riki understands immediately, used to his wordless way of communicating. They aren’t friends anymore, maybe they never really were, but at one point or another, they’d grown used to each other. In some ways, that hasn’t gone away. He places the Walkman in Jungwon’s hand, slipping his headphones off and setting them on top of it, pulling the second cassette out of his pocket.

“That one?” Jungwon asks as Riki opens it, handing him the tape and nodding.

“Side four,” he instructs, and Jungwon obliges, opening the Walkman and sliding it in before snapping it shut.

“Do you want to listen too?” He asks. Riki shrugs, taking the seat next to him. The headphones are over Jungwon’s ears now, and he leans a bit closer to Riki so that when he presses play, he can hear the sound leaking from them as clear as day. He reaches over and presses the fast forward button for several long seconds, and can feel Jungwon looking at him in curiosity as he does.

“I know one you’ll like,” he mutters in explanation, releasing the button, and the song starts a moment later.

Jungwon just hums, and after a few seconds of instrumental, Morrissey sings the words sing me to sleep, and Jungwon lets out a puff of air through his nose. “Ha. Clever.”

“Just let it work its magic,” Riki tells him.

“You’re saying their music is boring enough to put me to sleep?” Jungwon jokes, but his eyes flutter shut a moment later, and he leans his head back against the chair. There’s no way it's a comfortable position to sleep in, but he must be really exhausted.

Riki’s exhausted, too. That’s the only reason he lets his guard down, the only reason he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the seat too. By the time the song is finished, their breaths have both evened out, Jungwon’s head has fallen onto Riki’s shoulder, and sleep, for once, takes him without any fight.

Wednesday, December 21st

Riki rubs at the back of his neck with a wince, pushing at the knotted muscle under his skin, trying to get rid of the ache that's been there since he woke up. Jungwon doesn’t seem to be in any better of a state, with bags under his eyes and his hair a mess. They’d barely made it back to the infirmary before the others woke up, and managed to avoid eye contact completely since then, with any close call ending in both of them quickly looking away with red-tinged cheeks.

“Do you, like, not have any other clothes?” Sunoo asks suddenly, breaking the long stretch of silence they’d all fallen into. It takes Riki a moment to realize that he’s speaking to him, looking around to find everyone else in casual clothes – except for Jungwon, who is still in his pyjamas, this time with both of his slippers on.

“What?” Riki frowns, looking down at his wrinkled, jacket-free version of their uniform, complete with a loosened tie and – a dried patch of drool, right where Jungwon’s head had been resting when they fell asleep.

“Like, did your mom not pack you enough clothes or something?” He clarifies.

“No,” Riki says. “I have other clothes.”

“Oh. Well, you know we don’t have to wear our uniforms anymore, right?” Sunoo is speaking to him slowly, dragging out his vowels like he was dealing with a belligerent child and not someone only a year younger than him.

“I know that,” Riki says stubbornly.

“What difference does it make to you what he wears?” Heeseung asks from beside Riki, his tone not even unkind, and yet Sunoo reacts to it like he’d hit him, recoiling with an offended glare.

“I don’t think I was talking to you,” Sunoo snaps, then quiets after a moment and sighs. “I’m just trying to make conversation. I’m fucking bored. What kind of holiday is it if we’re not even allowed to go outside?”

“What would we do outside?” Jake asks with a snort. “There’s about a foot of snow out there right now.”

“I’d catch a ride out of this place,” Sunoo says proudly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, please do,” Heeseung mumbles.

Sunoo leans forward, slapping his hands down on the table and standing up, nearly sending his chair clattering to the ground. “I’m going to go to the vending machine.”

“I’ll join you,” Jake says quickly, then glances at Crutches with a wince. “Sorry. We won’t be long.”

Riki isn't sure if the three of them were all friends before this, but they certainly seem to have formed an alliance now, like they’re building up their forces against Heeseung and the other troublemakers. He wouldn’t be surprised, considering just how much Sunoo hates them.

Crutches just waves them off, and Jake and Sunoo leave together, arms linked. Riki finds himself staring at the back of Jake’s head as they go, his gaze automatically focusing on the tangle of hair he likely hadn’t had time to brush out in their haste when Chen called them out for breakfast before apparently retreating back to his office.

“Why are you still wearing your uniform, though?” Heeseung asks.

Riki just shrugs, opting to less-than-gracefully change the subject instead of providing him with an answer. “What’s your name, anyway?” He points at Crutches, who looks at him in confusion.

“You don’t know my name?”

“Should I?”

“I know yours,” he says, like it matters. “You’re Riki Nishimura. We have three classes together. You set the boys bathroom on fire last month.”

“That wasn’t me,” he corrects, because it really wasn't. He wasn’t even there when it happened. He's not a pyromaniac – quite the opposite, actually.

“That was me,” Heeseung says, almost proud. “I used Riki’s lighter to do it, though. Not to frame him, just ‘cause it was all I had on me. Also, it was an accident.” He tacks on, still maintaining that position even though no one believes it.

Crutches just stares at Heeseung like he’s grown another head.

“Do you know his name?” Riki turns to look at Heeseung too. He just shrugs.

“I don’t even know his name, and he tutored me in math,” he says, nodding towards Jungwon, who doesn’t even look up from the book in his hand – and where he’d gotten it from, Riki isn’t entirely sure. The one he was reading the night before is, as far as he knows, still on the floor of their infirmary room.

“His name is Sunghoon,” Jay chimes in for the first time that morning. “Sunghoon Park.”

“Okay,” Riki says. “Was that so hard?”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, slumping down in his seat. “Why would you tell him that?” He snaps, his irritated gaze fixed on Jay now.

Jay just shrugs. “Does it really matter? We’re all stuck here together, we might as well all be on a first name basis.”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon sighs. “I’d like to know why he’s still wearing his uniform.”

“What the fuck is the obsession with my clothes?” Riki asks impatiently.

“It’s probably connected to the fact that Jungwon is still in his pyjamas,” Jay says, leaning forward, folding his hands in front of him. “And the fact that both of your beds were empty last night.”

The blood in Riki’s veins turns to ice, and he freezes over completely, suddenly very interested in staying completely still and staring at his plate of half eaten scrambled eggs. There’s a slap as Jungwon drops his book onto the table, and a small yelp as he scrambles to pick it back up.

“Holy shit, you’re right, Park,” Heeseung laughs, smacking a hand down on the middle of Riki’s back in a congratulatory manner. “Damn, Riki. On the first night? I’m impressed.”

He dares a glance at Jungwon, unsurprised to find that his expression is one of pure mortification, sure that he’s mirroring it with his own.

“Shut up,” he hisses in Heeseung’s direction. “That’s not what happened.”

“Hey, no judgment here. This is basically Lord of the Flies. I figured it was only a matter of time before we started killing each other or shacking up. I’m just surprised it happened so fast.”

“It’s not like fucking Lord of the Flies, you idiot,” Sunghoon says venomously. “But… what were you both doing out of bed?”

“We – we were just –”

“We were in here,” Riki interrupts coolly, the lie coming easily to him as soon as he spontaneously decides he’s going to try and find one. “In the kitchen. They’ve got a liquor cabinet in there for the teachers, we wanted to see if we could break the lock.”

No one speaks for a few long seconds, and then the door to the cafeteria opens, and they all tense up – before realizing it’s just Sunoo and Jake returning with their drinks, the former looking much more calm than he was when he stormed off.

“No way,” Heeseung says, unphased by their return. “I call bullshit. They lock the kitchen up at night, and not even Chen has a key to it.”

Riki glances at Jungwon again, sees realization dawn in his eyes. He’ll just have to forgive him for spilling this one secret, this one time.

“I have a key,” Jungwon admits, still looking a little confused. He seemingly understands Riki’s angle, but not why it was the angle he’d chosen.

“Bullshit,” Heeseung repeats.

“What’s going on?” Sunoo asks, taking his seat again, looking at them curiously. He may hate most of them, but he clearly isn’t the type of person that’s willing to miss out on gossip.

“These two,” Sunghoon starts, gesturing back and forth between Jungwon and Riki, “Are claiming that they broke into the kitchen last night and got into the liquor cabinet.”

Sunoo looks at Jungwon, clearly confused. Jungwon returns the look with a reassuring one of his own, and then it’s Riki’s turn to be confused. He’d never even seen them interact, and yet Sunoo seems fully aware of why it would be strange for Jungwon to be talking about breaking in to the kitchen, like he already knew he has a key without being there to hear him say so moments ago.

“We didn’t break in,” Jungwon corrects. “I told you, I have a key. And we weren’t actually successful in getting into the cabinet.”

“Why do you have a key to the kitchen?” Heeseung asks.

Jungwon sighs, exasperated. “It doesn’t matter. I got it from a friend.”

Believe it or not, Riki is not that friend. He’s been tempted before to make copies of the keys he’d stolen from various teachers over the years, but he never went through with it. He just dutifully returned them once he was done with his exploring for the night. No harm, no foul.

Jungwon had the key to the kitchen already, when they first met. He’d never explained to Riki where he got it from, or why he had it, but they’d snuck in there a few times when Jungwon was feeling a little rebellious, to sit on the floor and eat ice cream out of the giant vats they kept in the freezer for special occasions. It was the first thing he could think of, and he knew it would have them forgetting about their suspicions that they were hooking up, because he knows Heeseung can’t resist –

“Well, you have to bring all of us there tonight,” Heeseung says excitedly. “One of us has gotta be able to break the lock.”

“I don’t know,” Jungwon says nervously. “We went by ourselves because we were worried we’d draw too much attention otherwise –”

“Psh-aw,” Heeseung waves dismissively. “Chen’s not going to notice. He still sleeps with the radio on, right, Riks? He can’t hear a thing.”

Riki nods.

“Just how often do you guys sneak out?” Sunghoon asks, clearly judging them all.

“All the time,” Heeseung says. “How often do you sneak out?”

“Never?” Sunghoon says, like it’s obvious. “I thought you’d at least be smarter than this,” he adds, looking at Jungwon.

“I made him bring me,” Riki clarifies, feeling the need to protect Jungwon’s reputation for reasons he can’t quite identify.

Jungwon just avoids meeting any of their eyes.

“I think it’ll be fine, Sunghoon,” Jake says quietly. “We deserve to have some fun. It’s the holidays.”

“Exactly,” Heeseung says with a snap of his fingers. “Jake’s right.”

Riki watches as Jake’s cheeks and the tips of his ears redden all at once, and almost barks out a slightly confused laugh, but he clenches his jaw to keep himself under control.

“Only thing is,” he says after a moment, getting all of their eyes on him at once. “I’m not sure we should be breaking the lock off. Chen doesn’t notice much, but he will notice that. He’s in the cabinet almost every day, refilling his coffee cup with whiskey.”

“Shit. That’s right,” Sunoo sighs, like he was already keenly aware of that fact. Riki isn’t sure how he would be, unless he spends as much time tracking Chen’s movement as they do. “Who would have a key to it, then?”

“Well, he would,” Riki says. “I’m sure he’s the one that locked it in the first place.”

“Right, but how does that help us?” Jake asks, eyes round and innocent.

“Oh, Jake. You sweet, innocent thing,” Sunoo says, patting the top of his head, smoothing his hand down the back of Jake’s hair in a way that reddens his cheeks even more. “We’re going to steal it.”

Jake blinks. “No, we’re not.”

“Come on, Jake,” Heeseung presses, his tone almost taunting. “Even Jungwon was willing to steal a key for the greater good, and he’s a total stick in the mud. Right?”

“Dude,” Riki says automatically. “Lay off.”

Jungwon gives him a look he can’t quite decipher, Heeseung’s eyebrows raise in amusement, and Riki regrets ever opening his mouth to begin with.

“For the record, again, I did not steal it,” Jungwon insists. “I already had a key. And I’m not going to help you steal this one, either.”

“But you will let us into the kitchen, right? If we can get the key to the cabinet?” Heeseung asks.

Jungwon just shrugs, not committing to anything.

“I’ll go,” he says suddenly, mostly just to keep Heeseung from talking again, because he was opening his mouth to do just that. “I mean, I’ll steal the key to the cabinet. I need someone to come with me and keep watch, though.”

“I’ll do it,” Jake blurts, determination all over his features, his eyes flitting over to Heeseung like his approval is actually something he cares about. Maybe it is. Maybe Heeseung just has a way of making everyone care about getting his approval. “I just have to stand there and tell you when he’s coming, right? You’ll do the actual like, theft?”

“It’s not theft,” Riki says. “It’s just – borrowing.”

“Sure, whatever,” Jake agrees easily. “As long as I don’t actually have to do it.”

Riki nods, and a moment later, the realization that he’d just agreed to doing something with Jake, to being alone with him. He once again regrets ever opening his mouth.

“Alright. Sounds like a plan to me. You guys swipe it next time Chen leaves his office, and we’ll meet back here tonight, with Jungwon’s key and Chen’s key,” Heeseung says. No one outright protests – Jay mumbles something about how they’re all idiots under his breath, but doesn’t actually say no – and Heeseung nods a moment later, pleased. “Perfect. Class dismissed, then.”

This earns him a few eye rolls, but again, no outright protests from anyone. Riki is the first one out of his chair, not wanting to stick around in case Jungwon wanted to scold him for his impulsive lie. He doesn’t even know why he felt the need to lie, because what they had been doing the night before was entirely innocent, not even anything noteworthy, really. But he just couldn’t bring himself to be honest.

He’s about to go straight to the infirmary, ideally to change into some less attention-grabbing clothes, but he doesn’t get far before a voice calling his name echoes down the hall, startling him badly enough to have his heart hammering against his ribcage. And then his heart rate goes through the roof when he turns around, because Jake is standing there.

“Hey,” he says, hands wringing together in front of him, a nervous smile plastered on his face as he steps a little closer. “So, uh, how are we gonna do this?”

“Um,” Riki manages after a second too long. “There's, uh – there’s a spot on the second floor where if you’re sitting down against the wall, you can see through the stairways to this floor, right outside of Chen’s office. We’ll probably have to wait there for a while, and then when he leaves, we’ll just go down and hope he takes the same amount of time in the bathroom as he always does.”

“You know his bathroom schedule? Just how many times have you stolen his keys, exactly?” Jake asks, actually seeming a little impressed.

“Once or twice,” Riki says noncommittally.

Jake snorts. “Okay. I trust you,” he says, and there goes Riki’s heart again. “Just let me know when you need me, alright?”

Riki just nods, and then he’s watching as Jake walks away, and all thoughts related to what he was just about to do are instantly forgotten, like Jake had somehow wiped his memory. He looks down at the drool stain on his shirt again. Right. He needs to change, and he needs to make sure he and Jungwon have their story straight, and that he’ll at least give Riki the key tonight if he doesn’t want to come along.

“Why did you tell him about my key?” Sunoo's voice carries out of the cafeteria, and that has him stopping in his tracks once again, turning his head so he can hear better. The only other person he hadn’t seen leave yet was Jungwon, so they must still both be in there. “I’ll get in so much shit if she finds out we used it to get into the fucking liquor of all things. Like, she might actually kill me.”

“I didn’t tell him it was yours,” Jungwon says defensively. “If we get caught, I'll take the blame. I'll say I stole it.”

“Oh, please, Wonie. Like anyone's actually going to believe you would steal anything.”

And, okay, that's interesting. Riki doesn't claim to know everything about Jungwon, not even close, but he’s sure that the whole school would know if Sunoo Kim was friends with someone as low on the metaphorical totem pole as Jungwon is. The only people lower than meek, shy Jungwon were Riki and Heeseung, and Sunoo wouldn’t even look their way before yesterday. He can’t imagine a world where Sunoo is calling Jungwon Wonie, and yet he’d just heard it for himself, clear as day.

But he supposes, he just learned that Sunoo has done more than look Heeseung's way. Way more. A potential friendship between Jungwon and Sunoo makes no sense, but then again, a past relationship between Heeseung and Sunoo makes even less. Maybe Riki isn’t as observant as he likes to think he is. Maybe there’s more to Sunoo than the vapid, superficial persona he puts on.

It seems unlikely, but stranger things have already happened.

For the most part, Riki doesn’t consider himself a lucky person. He has, actually, been in a stretch of bad luck, one that’s been going on for at least the last two years. Things don’t work out for him the way they work out for other people. He’s always the one that gets caught, always the one that gets the short end of the stick.

He thinks it’s a good thing, in a way. It’s helped him learn to overcome adversity, to be quick on his feet, to adapt to whatever life throws his way. He assumes he’ll have to use these learned skills tonight, that something will throw a wrench in their plan.

He’s ready to take it in stride, to roll with the punches like he always does – but then, at dinner, Chen walks by them on his way to his office with a steaming plate of lasagna in his hands, and he realizes he won’t have to, this time.

Heeseung and Riki share a smug grin, and then Heeseung leans over to nudge Jake, who was sitting beside him, but had mostly been ignoring his existence since they sat down.

Jake flinches, looking at Heeseung with wide, confused eyes. “What?” He asks, his voice full of shock, like he can’t believe Heeseung had the audacity to speak to him.

“He’s lactose intolerant,” Heeseung says under his breath, nodding towards Chen as he disappears into the hallway. “Looks like he just made your guys’ job a lot easier.”

Jake looks over at where Chen had been a moment before, then back at Heeseung, this time smiling wide. A giggle escapes him, delighted and a little too loud, and then he slaps a hand over his mouth. Beside him, Sunoo looks over at his friend with a mildly disgusted glare.

“He could be in the bathroom all night,” Riki says, and then it’s his turn to get a few grossed-out looks. “What? It’s true.”

“Why is he eating dairy if he’s lactose intolerant?” Jay asks, face wrinkled in confusion.

“Why are you talking if you have nothing interesting to say?” Sunghoon jabs. Jay just ignores him.

“Sometimes he plays fast and loose with his digestive system,” Heeseung says. “Who knows why? The guy’s a total nutjob. We’d be here all day if we tried to figure out why he does what he does. Just accept the win and use it.”

Riki scarfs down the rest of his dinner after that, and Jake does too, and then they’re off with a godspeed from Heeseung and a cautionary be careful from Jungwon. Riki feels kind of warm all over when Jungwon says it. He’s not sure why.

Jake is giddy with anticipation as they climb the stairs to the second floor, chattering Riki’s ear off about how he never does stuff like this, about how much trouble he’d be in if his parents ever found out.

“It’s kind of exciting, don’t you think?” He asks as Riki points him in the direction of their surveillance spot. “Here?”

“Right here,” Riki tells him, slumping down against the wall, and sure enough, through the railing of the stairway, he has a perfect view of the familiar walnut-stained wood of Chen’s door. They just have to wait for him to leave, and with the size of the serving of lasagna he’d taken, Riki is sure they won’t have to wait long.

“Cool,” Jake breathes in awe, leaning forward to get a better look, his knee bumping against Riki’s as he does. Riki stretches his legs out to ensure it won’t happen again. “I guess it’s probably not that exciting for you.”

“What, watching Chen’s door so I can see when he goes to take a shit?” Riki asks, relishing momentarily in the laugh it earns him.

“No, like, I don’t know. Doing all this spy shit.”

“Spy shit?” Riki asks, laughing incredulously.

“Yeah, you know. You’re like a secret agent,” Jake says defensively, but he’s smiling. “For the forces of evil, of course, but it’s still kind of cool.”

“I wouldn’t call it evil,” he says, ignoring the way his chest fills with something like pride at Jake calling him kind of cool. “I consider myself a neutral party.”

“Like Sweden,” Jake hums.

“Exactly,” Riki agrees. “Like Sweden.”

“You help Heeseung, though. He’s not neutral. He’s very strictly on the side of evil,” Jake says, but it doesn’t sound like he means it as an insult. It sounds almost fond.

“Again, not evil,” Riki corrects. “He just likes to have fun.”

“Well, his idea of fun is stressful.”

“You’re stressed?” Riki asks.

Jake shrugs. “Not yet. I’ll be stressed if he lands me in detention. But – I guess it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Riki scoffs. “What are you talking about? You’ve never gotten detention in your life.”

Jake is a notoriously good student, the favourite of most of the faculty and the headmaster. It’s how he was made captain of the soccer team back when he was only a junior, and it’s why Riki doesn’t believe for a second that he’s ever come close to getting in trouble before now.

“I almost did once,” Jake admits. “Because I was caught out of bed after hours.”

“Damn,” Riki says. “What were you doing?”

Jake glances at him for a long moment, then looks away, a small smile forming on his face. “I was sneaking out of Heeseung’s room.”

A few things click into place at once. Gears creak to life and begin to turn inside of Riki’s head. Huh. Huh.

“Ah. You’re his latest victim, then?” He finally responds, his lungs seizing up uncomfortably as he does.

Jake rolls his eyes. “I don’t consider myself a victim.”

It was confirmation of multiple things he would have rathered left unconfirmed, but at the top of the list, there’s this – Heeseung was fully aware of Riki’s crush on Jake, had even teased him about doing something about it, all while he was already sleeping with him. It feels like cruelty he’s not used to from Heeseung, at least not directed at him, and it makes his skin crawl in discomfort.

“Not yet,” Riki counters, because everyone Heeseung has dated considers themselves one of his victims after the fact. He plows through his peers with almost no consideration of their feelings, and Riki is positive he’ll do the same with Jake, even though he’s of the opinion that Jake deserves his feelings considered more than almost anyone else. Jake is too nice for Heeseung. He’s going to get eaten alive.

“That’s awfully pessimistic of you to say,” Jake says, visibly bristling in annoyance.

“Yeah, well,” Riki shrugs, not really caring if Jake doesn’t want to hear it. He needs to hear it. “You don’t know Heeseung like I do.”

“And that’s awfully presumptuous of you to say.”

Riki looks over at him. “You two are dating, then? Going steady?”

“Actually, yes,” Jake snaps, looking at him with a deep frown on his face. Riki’s pretty sure he’s never seen him frown. “We are dating. We have been for months, not that it’s any of your business.”

Riki kind of wishes he’d just slapped him instead. He thinks it would have stung less.

“Why are you telling me, then? If it’s not my business,” Riki says stubbornly, as if he hadn’t demanded the information from him in the first place.

Jake scoffs, but he seems to deflate a moment later, the fight leaving his body after only a short time living there. Jake never struck him as the type to hold onto anger, not like Riki always does. “I don’t know. Maybe because I thought you wouldn’t judge me,” he says, then pauses, and sighs in defeat. “Or maybe because I know you won’t tell Sunoo.”

A few seconds of silence pass between them, and then Riki whistles low under his breath. “Sounds messy.”

“Yeah,” Jake agrees. “Very messy. He’s just – he’s blinded by hate, I guess. He never even liked him, not the way I do, at least. But I think if he found out, he’d still be really hurt.”

Riki nods after a moment. “I’m not judging you, by the way.”

Jake laughs a bit, shaking his head. “Yes, you are.”

“Yeah, I am,” he admits. “What do you even see in him?”

“You guys are friends, aren’t you?” Jake counters. “Surely you’ve noticed some of his redeeming qualities by now.”

Riki just shrugs. “He just doesn’t seem like your type,” he says eventually, because it’s something he’s long told himself. Riki is the same type as Heeseung – a delinquent, a troublemaker. When he realized his feelings for Jake weren’t returned, it was easier to just tell himself he probably wasn’t his type. It’s becoming clear to him that that isn’t the case.

“Hm,” Jake hums. “I guess it’s true what they say about opposites. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Riki looks over at him, eyes wide, brows furrowed. Does Jake know that he liked him? Had Heeseung told him?

Jake just laughs a bit. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s totally obvious,” he says, clearly unphased by the panic attack Riki is having beside him. “Even if you guys weren’t hooking up last night, it’s obvious you two are sweet on each other.”

Riki blinks. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You and Jungwon,” Jake says, like it’s obvious.

“Me and –?” Riki cuts off. “That’s – that’s not anything.”

“Come on, Riki,” Jake says with a roll of his eyes. “I know we aren’t really close anymore, but you don’t have to lie to me. I remember what happened last year.”

Riki winces, shaking his head. He knows Jake remembers. He remembers seeing his face in the crowd that had formed around them, remembers seeing the horror in his eyes as he threw punch after punch.

“I thought it was sweet,” Jake says when he doesn’t respond. “I mean, scary, but sweet. You know, I barely even see anyone giving Jungwon any trouble now. Everyone knows you’ll come after them if they do – especially after the second time, when you set the sprinklers off? You really know how to send a message.”

Riki feels himself tensing all over, more and more by the second, and he’s searching his mind for some kind of explanation, some kind of excuse, because in the months since the incident, he still hasn’t managed to come up with a good one.

He hit the guy because he pushed Jungwon. He kept hitting him because he called Jungwon a loser – why do you even give a shit about this fucking loser – and then Heeseung had pulled him off of him, and he’d seen Jungwon’s face, the fear in his eyes, and he’d known instantly that he’d made a mistake. He didn’t even try to defend himself when he was dragged into the headmaster’s office, just accepted his one week suspension without a word.

The second time, it was even less justifiable. It hadn’t even escalated to the point of physicality when Riki pulled the fire alarm. He and Jungwon weren’t even speaking, hadn’t been since Riki had returned from his suspension. He just saw Jungwon’s face, the tears running down his cheeks as the guy, the same fucking guy laid into him about how he’d gotten him punched, and he knew he couldn’t punch him again without getting kicked out, so he pulled the fire alarm. No one actually saw him do it. They suspended him anyway.

Jungwon knew it was him, too. When he returned from his second suspension, he’d approached him in the hallway one day after class, his voice barely raised above a whisper as he said, I’m sorry you got in trouble because of me.

Riki had told him it wasn’t his fault. Jungwon had thanked him. That was the last time they’d spoken, until yesterday.

How had that given Jake the impression that they were dating?

“It’s not like that,” Riki says firmly. “We’re not even really friends. He’s just – he’s nice. I felt bad for him.”

“Of course he’s nice, but –” Jake starts, and Riki is already not really interested in what he has to say, but then he hears the telltale click of a door opening.

Riki shushes him.

“You don’t have to be rude –”

“Jake, shush,” he repeats with more intensity this time, pointing straight ahead, and Jake’s eyes follow the movement.

“Oh,” he breathes, watching as Chen steps out of his office. Just as Riki expected, he doesn’t hear the jingle of his keys, doesn’t see him fiddling with them as he walks away. He’d left his office unlocked, and his keys were still in there. He probably thought he wouldn’t be gone long. He’s always gone long.

“Rookie move, Chen,” Riki says lowly, getting to his feet. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, oh my god, I’m so nervous,” Jake says suddenly, but he accepts Riki’s hand when he offers it to him, allowing himself to be pulled up and following along behind him as they quietly move down the stairs.

“Don’t be nervous,” Riki says simply. “Just stand here, and if he comes back, tell him Crutches fell down the stairs or something.”

“Crutches?” Jake asks. “You mean Sunghoon?”

“Whatever,” Riki waves him off dismissively. “I’ll be two seconds.”

It ends up taking more than two seconds, because Riki struggles with the key ring for several long moments, trying and failing to slide the key off without taking the rest of them with it and clattering to the floor. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he attempts to lift the opening with his thumb nail, hissing in pain when it snaps closed and pinches his skin.

“Shit,” Riki curses. “Fuck.”

“Hurry up,” Jake whispers, peeking through the doorway to look at him with wide eyes. “I just heard the fucking toilet flush, it’s only been a minute, you said –”

“I got it, I got it,” Riki assures him, successfully sliding the key off a moment later.

“He’s coming,” Jake says urgently. “I don’t think he even washed his hands, so gross –”

“Shit,” he repeats, taking quick strides towards Jake, shoving him out of the way until he takes a few stumbling steps back. “Just run,” he tells him, pulling the door closed and doing his best to muffle the click.

Jake only hesitates a moment before taking off in the direction of the infirmary, and Riki hears the sound of Chen’s shoes hitting the floor just around the corner before he bolts too, the key grasped tightly in his hand as he catches up with Jake. They run all the way to the infirmary, both of them needing to double over to catch their breath by the time they get there.

Riki looks over at Jake, and Jake looks over at him, and then they’re laughing, uncontrollably laughing, and it doesn’t help the tightness of his lungs improve at all, but it is the hardest he’s laughed in a long time, so he doesn’t mind.

“You got it?” Heeseung asks, appearing in the doorway, a few of the others coming up behind him, looking at them expectantly.

Riki pulls himself upright, still heaving for air but smiling hard enough that his cheeks hurt, and holds the key up.

“Fuck yeah, man! That’s what I’m talking about!” Heeseung shouts, high fiving Riki and bringing him in for a celebratory hug, acting like they'd just swiped a briefcase full of precious gems and made them all rich. He supposes, that for a group of teenagers stuck in school for Christmas, unrestricted access to alcohol is pretty much the same thing.

“May I propose a toast?” Heeseung says, raising one of red solo cups that Sunoo had taken out of the cupboard for them to use, accidentally sloshing a few drops of whiskey onto the ground in front of him. “Riki? You wanna do the honours since it was your bravery that got us here?”

Riki blinks, looking up from where he’d been focusing on filling Jay’s cup, spilling a bit of it onto his pants as he does. Jay scolds him as he brushes it off, but takes the cup a moment later. “Uh. Sure?” He agrees hesitantly. “Everyone has some?”

“Jungwon doesn’t,” Jake says, then looks at Jungwon hesitantly. “If you want any, I mean.”

“I think I’m good,” Jungwon says warily, tightly gripping the flashlight he’d been holding to help them get into the cabinet, pulling it closer to his chest like it’s providing him comfort. Riki isn’t surprised. It had taken a lot of convincing just to get him here, with Riki assuring him multiple times that no one would ever find out, reminding him that there weren’t even any cameras in the cafeteria yet to catch them with. “I’ll just – get some water.”

Once Jungwon’s returned with a small cup of water, Riki raises his cup, his cheeks already burning as all eyes fall on him.

“Um. To – I don’t know. Are we friends? Can I say to friends?”

“Eh,” Sunghoon says with a tilt of his head, like he was actually considering it. “I don’t think we’re there. No offense.”

“To… being on a first name basis?” Jake suggests, earning him a quiet snicker from Heeseung, which has his chest puffing ever so slightly with pride.

“Sure,” Riki agrees. “To being on a first name basis, then.”

They all mutter a cheers, clinking their glasses together in the middle of the circle they’d formed, and Riki downs his drink in one go, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment as it burns its way down his throat.

“Eugh,” Sunoo groans, nose wrinkled in disgust. “This is horrible. Why does anyone drink this?”

“It’s whiskey,” Jay says. “What were you expecting it to taste like, a Pina Colada?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt,” Sunoo says in annoyance. “Is there a bottle of vodka in there?”

“I thought you said last time that vodka was your sworn enemy for life,” Jake says as Sunoo gets up and walks over to the liquor cabinet, waving him off dismissively. “Fine, but if you puke, I’m not cleaning it up.”

“Hear hear!” Heeseung agrees, still talking like they’re knights at a round table.

The vodka ends up getting passed around too, and within a half hour they’re all more than a little tipsy. They’re probably overdoing it a bit. At least – Jungwon seems to think they are, judging by the way he confiscates Jay’s cup and rolls it under the fridge, never to be seen again.

“You’re no fun,” Jay sighs, flopping down to lay flat on the floor, smacking his head on the tile with a dull thunk as he does. “Do you ever have fun, Jungwon?”

“I do,” Jungwon says defensively, his mouth forming a small pout, and Riki feels the need to avert his eyes to the floor without really knowing why.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Sunghoon slurs a bit, shifting in his spot and accidentally knocking over Sunoo’s cup with his cast for the third time that night. “Seems like you’re just here to make sure we don’t have fun. Like, you’re the fun police. Are you working for Mr. Chen?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Riki says, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Jake’s eyebrows raise in suspicion, but he doesn’t care. Jungwon’s cheeks are flushed pink, and he’s pouting harder now, and Riki just – he has to say something, when it’s Jungwon. He doesn’t know why. He’ll figure it out some other time.

“Why are you here, anyways?” Heeseung asks all of a sudden, tilting his cup towards Jungwon, laughing when Riki glares at him, too. “Calm down, Riks. I don’t mean here, I mean – here. At school.”

Jungwon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, clearly trying and failing to understand what Heeseung meant. “I – I got a scholarship?” He says, and Riki knows that a year ago, Jungwon never would have admitted to that. He tried for a long time to hide his status as one of the few lower-class members of the student body, but learned the hard way that wealth recognizes wealth – and Jungwon isn’t someone most of them recognize. Riki never thought it was something to be ashamed of. Jungwon is smart, and he’s a hard worker, and he deserves everything he’s gotten because of that.

“No, like, for the holidays. I wanna know how all you sorry bastards got stuck here.”

“Oh,” Jungwon says, his eyes going round with understanding. “I don’t… why are you here?” He echoes the question back to Heeseung, who doesn’t seem to notice his strategic redirect.

“I gotta retake a couple of exams,” he says easily. “So that I can graduate this year.”

“So all the time you’ve been spending not studying so far,” Jake says, staring at Heeseung with a disapproving glare, “You really should have been, right?”

Heeseung shrugs. “I’ll do fine. I’ve already taken them once before, I’ve got it all memorized.”

“You know they give you a different test when you retake it, right?”

Heeseung blinks. “Wait, seriously?”

While Heeseung seemingly spirals from that crisis-inducing realization, Jake shifts his attention back to the rest of them.

“I actually am curious too, though. Usually it’s just me and Sunoo here for the holidays,” Jake says.

Jay sits back up, suddenly interested in their conversation again, or more likely, interested in picking up the bottle in the middle of their circle and drinking straight from it. “Hold on. You’re always here because you’re from, like, England or something –”

“Australia,” Jake corrects.

“But why are you always here?” He asks, pointing at Sunoo.

“None of your business,” Sunoo snaps, a little viciously.

“Do you know why?” Jay asks Jake. Jake just shrugs, avoiding his gaze and looking almost embarrassed, like he said something he’s not supposed to. Most likely, he did. Sunoo seems to have more than one person keeping his secrets around here.

“Come on, Sun,” Heeseung says, no longer concerned about his grades, grinning at Sunoo tauntingly. “Share with the class.”

“You’re a fucking dickhead,” Sunoo hisses at him. “I don’t need to tell any of you idiots anything about me. And – I’m not even the only one dodging the question,” he says, gesturing to Jungwon, dropping his hand a moment later with a guilty expression slowly dawning on his face.

Jungwon shoots an unamused look Sunoo’s way, but sighs a moment later. “My grandmother died a month ago. And my parents died when I was little, so she was my guardian, and – I don’t have anywhere else to go right now.”

Riki, truthfully, didn’t know any of that until this very moment. During their brief friendship, they rarely talked about anything personal. They’d mostly talked about class, which made sense, because the only reason they were talking was because they were lab partners. He never told Jungwon about his family situation, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Jungwon never told him about his. Still, he feels pinpricks of a feeling he can’t quite decipher in his inebriated state as he realizes just how little he truly knows about Jungwon.

A few long seconds of silence pass, and then Sunghoon clears his throat.

“Shit,” he says, in a half-hearted attempt at sympathy. “That sucks. Are you like, an orphan now?”

“Have a little tact, Sunghoon,” Jake mutters. “I’m sorry for your loss, Jungwon.”

“It’s okay,” Jungwon says with a shrug and a small smile. “She was sick for a while. I knew it was coming.”

“Still,” Jake says meaningfully. “Uh – where are you going to go when school is done?”

“To my great aunt’s,” Jungwon says. “I barely know her, but – she lives in New York, which is kind of cool. She has this big apartment right in the city, and she’s clearing out a room for me now.”

“That’s really cool,” Sunoo assures him. Jungwon’s smile becomes a little more genuine.

“Someone else go,” he says after a moment. “Mine’s just sad. Someone has to have a funny story for why they’re here.”

“My mom went on vacation without me,” Riki chimes in without much thought, the liquor making him a little too loose with his words. Normally, he would have stayed silent, but now all eyes are on him again, and it’s too late. “We were supposed to go on a trip to New York, but my mom booked a cruise for her and her new husband, and didn’t tell me about it until she was already supposed to be here, picking me up.”

No one says anything, all of them staring at Riki in various states of concern and horror.

“And that’s a funny story to you?” Sunoo finally asks. “That’s awful, Riki. Awful.”

He shrugs after a moment. “It’ll probably be funny one day.”

Sunghoon snorts, shaking his head. “You’ve got a fucked up sense of what’s funny, dude,” he says. “I’ll go. Mine’s a little funny. I’m supposed to be at a figure skating competition right now. I don’t go to them very often anymore ‘cause of school, or whatever, but I used to do them all the time, so I thought I could jump right back in. Obviously,” he reaches down and thumps the cast on his foot with the palm of his hand, “I couldn’t.”

“That’s what happened? You broke your shit skating?” Heeseung asks. “I heard someone pushed you down the stairs.”

“I heard you were in a car accident,” Jungwon says.

“I heard both, and also that you were jumped by a gang,” Sunoo adds.

“Nope,” Sunghoon says, popping the ‘p’. “Just landed a jump wrong. My whole career – gone, just like that. It’s a good thing I’m graduating this year. Otherwise, I’d lose the scholarship I got for it, and I’d be shit out of luck.”

“So,” Sunoo says after a moment. “Not that that isn’t tragic and all, but that doesn’t really explain why you’re stuck here.”

“Right. That’s the funny part,” Sunghoon says. “My mom is my coach, but she also coaches a bunch of other kids too, and some of them still went to the competition. She had to go with them, and it’s just me and her, so – no Christmas for me.”

“None of you know what funny means,” Jake tells them.

“I’ve got a funny one,” Jay declares, taking another swig from the bottle before handing it to Riki, all efforts into using their cups already forgotten. “I don’t have a reason for being here.”

They all look at him in clear confusion, except Sunghoon, who rolls his eyes.

“You don’t?” Jungwon asks. “Why are you here, then?”

“Just didn’t feel like going home,” Jay shrugs. “This seemed like where all the excitement was.”

“You’re insane,” Jake says decisively.

“Well, I’m right, aren’t I? You people are very entertaining.”

“He’s lying,” Sunghoon says suddenly. “Just so you know, he’s lying.”

“Speaking of entertainment,” Heeseung mutters under his breath. “You two seem to have an adversarial relationship. What happened there? You the one that socked him in the eye?”

“God, do you always have to be so nosy?” Sunoo asks, tone venomous. He’s not sure why he’s so offended, considering the question wasn’t directed at him at all, but Riki figures he’s probably just generally pissed off anytime Heeseung is speaking.

“I didn’t hit him,” Sunghoon says. “He got himself punched on purpose.”

“Fascinating,” Heeseung hums, ignoring Sunoo rolling his eyes so hard that Riki swears he can actually hear it. “Elaborate for us nosy people, won’t you?”

Jay is staring Sunghoon down with a deep frown on his face, jaw clenched tightly, clearly not intending on explaining it for himself. Sunghoon, however, doesn’t seem to share in his hesitation to spill.

“He picked a fight with some meathead rugby player on purpose,” Sunghoon tells them. “You were trying to get suspended, weren’t you?”

Jay shrugs, jaw clenching and unclenching.

“But you didn’t,” Sunghoon continues. His words are heavy and a bit slurred, and it becomes increasingly clear to Riki that he wouldn’t be saying this if he wasn’t drunk, if they weren’t all drunk – except Jungwon, who is looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. “And you won’t, ‘cause your dad’s name is still on the plaque above the gym, and he’s the reason we’re getting shiny new floors, right?”

Heeseung whistles under his breath, but otherwise, no one speaks.

“Actually, no, you’re the reason we’re getting new floors,” Sunghoon says after a moment. “It must have been a good solid chunk of change from your dad to keep you from getting a mark on your permanent record, right? I’m sure the basketball team is very grateful for your sacrifice.”

Jay, to Riki’s surprise, doesn’t tell Sunghoon to fuck off, doesn’t protest, even though he seems very much like the type of person that wouldn’t shy away from confrontation. He just takes it, lets Sunghoon lay into him, lets him lay his dirty laundry out for everyone to see.

And then he gets up, his knee hitting the bottle as he does and knocking it over, liquid spilling everywhere when the glass hits the floor and shatters.

“Shit,” Riki curses, moving himself away from the pile of glass and liquid that was now creeping dangerously close to his own knee, bumping into Sunoo as he does.

“Whatever,” Jay says, his tone even, his face devoid of any emotion. “I’m going to bed. Enjoy your fuckin’ pity party, losers.”

And then he’s gone, and none of them seem to have any idea what to say, at least not until Jake shoots Sunghoon a confused look.

“That was super harsh,” he says.

Sunghoon shrugs. “He can look at his bank account to feel better about it.”

Heeseung snorts. “That can be said about any of the rich chucklefucks in this school.”

“Are you including yourself in that demographic?” Riki asks dryly.

“Nope,” Heeseung says proudly. “I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. I just go here ‘cause my grandfather left me money in his will. Said specifically that it can’t be used for anything other than tuition to Decelis, and then college. But I’m not going to college, so.”

“You’re not going to college?” Jungwon asks. “Then – no offense, but why even bother going here? I thought everyone here was trying to get into Ivy Leagues.”

“Not me,” Heeseung shrugs. “I’m here ‘cause I knew it would get my folks off my back.”

“And they’ll be happy that you’re not going to college?” Sunghoon questions.

“They can’t force me,” he says simply. “I’m eighteen, so. Once I’m done with this place, I don’t care if they’re happy or not. I’ll be long gone.”

“Aw, you’re not planning on offing yourself, are you?” Sunoo asks, his tone deceivingly sweet.

“You wish,” Heeseung says, winking at him, laughing when Sunoo glares at him in response. “Nah, I just mean I’m gonna move to the city.”

“Which city?” Sunghoon asks. “Boston?

“Dunno yet,” he shrugs. “Any city with something worth seeing, I guess.”

Riki doesn’t miss the look Jake gives him when he says that, brief but full of an emotion he likely didn’t mean to display. Something vulnerable, something unsure. Riki wonders if they really are serious, if they’ve talked about their futures, if the fact that Jake is going to Brown and Heeseung isn’t going anywhere is a hurdle they haven’t gotten past yet.

It’s none of his business, doesn’t really affect him in any way, but – maybe he’s just nosy, too.

“Well,” Jungwon says all of a sudden, getting up from his spot, still gripping his oversized flashlight tightly, wincing at the pile of smashed glass and spilled liquor that Riki had already forgotten about. “I think we should probably clean this up. Mr. Chen might be a little on the oblivious side, but I’m pretty sure he’ll notice this if we leave it.”

“I got it,” Sunoo volunteers, earning surprised looks from all of them. “What? I can be charitable sometimes.”

“How are we going to get the key back into Chen’s office?” Jake asks suddenly. “Wait, no seriously. Did anyone think about that?”

Heeseung waves him off dismissively. “Riki’s got it.”

“What does that mean? He’s sleeping in there right now. Unless you have the power to turn invisible –”

“I’m just going to slide it back under his door,” Riki says simply. “If you do it at the right angle, it slides under his desk, right where he always keeps his keys. He’s an idiot, he’ll think it fell off his key ring.”

“No way that works,” Sunghoon says, his nonchalant attitude from before long gone, replaced with pure panic. “He’s just going to assume we took it, and we’re gonna be in so much shit –”

“Chill out,” Heeseung says. “We’ve tested this theory before.”

“You two scare me,” Jake says. “Like, seriously. You should be using these powers for good.”

“We are using them for good,” Riki insists.

“Whatever you say, Sweden,” Jake snaps. “If I get my first detention because of you two knuckleheads, I swear to god…”

“No one’s getting detention. I’d bet on it. He won’t notice.”

Heeseung leans forward in interest at Riki’s words, like a Pavlovian dog trained to respond to the word bet. “Ten bucks says he doesn’t notice.”

Jake rolls his eyes.

“I’ll take it,” Sunghoon says, holding out a hand for him to shake, which Heeseung does enthusiastically.

“Sunghoon,” Jake scolds. “Don’t encourage them.”

“What? If I’m going to get detention anyway, I want to get some money out of it.”

“You’re all idiots,” Jake sighs, getting up, helping Sunghoon to his feet, too. Once he’s up, they all slowly pull themselves up, some of them more unsteadily than others. “Someone should go with Riki. Not me, ‘cause I already risked enough earlier, but – someone should.”

He sees Heeseung’s grin before any words leave his mouth, and knows what’s coming, knows he’s helpless to stop it. “Jungwon can go. He’s got the flashlight, right?”

Riki meets Heeseung’s eyes, mouthing a threat to him that just has him grinning wider.

“Sure,” Jungwon says, sounding a bit nervous. “I mean, if you don’t think we’ll get caught.”

“We won’t,” Riki says. “Chen’s a deep sleeper, he’s always got the radio playing, and we don’t even have to go in. There’s no risk.”

“There’s always a risk.”

“Maybe. But it’s a calculated risk.”

“Sure, but I’ve seen your math scores,” Jungwon counters. It’s a joke, but you wouldn’t know it by the serious look on his face. Riki only knows he’s joking because he knows he has actually seen his math scores, and knows Riki is second in their class, only surpassed by Jungwon himself.

Riki just smiles. Jungwon breaks a moment later, smiling too, and he knows he’s won. He knows Jungwon can’t pass up an opportunity to prove someone wrong about something, that his desire to see if he was right about getting caught outweighs his fear of it.

If he wasn’t still a little bit drunk, he would question why he knows how to pull Jungwon’s strings so well, why he’s spent enough time analyzing his reactions to things to know how to win him over. But he is still drunk, and Jungwon is smiling at him, and for some reason, it’s clouding all of his better judgment. All of his senses are focused on that smile, and the buzz of electricity in the air between them, and for a fleeting moment, he feels like they aren’t talking about the risk of returning the key at all.

He’ll unpack that thought in the morning, or maybe another day, or maybe never. Right now, he has a bet to win.

“Watch and learn,” Riki whispers in the direction of where Jungwon was standing, shining the flashlight at the floor in front of him, looking entirely unimpressed so far. And then he presses the key to the cool wood of the ground, and slides it through the crack under the door, hearing the soft sound of it sliding until a dull thunk tells him it had hit the big boxy desk that sits in the middle of Chen’s office.

Riki stands, brushing his hands together as if to wash himself of the crime, turning around to face Jungwon properly with a grin.

“Colour me impressed,” he says dryly, falling into step with Riki as they walk away from the office. “That still doesn’t mean we won’t get caught.”

“Trust me,” Riki says. “I only get caught when I want to.”

Jungwon scrunches up his face in disbelief. “That’s not even a little bit true. Why would you ever want to get caught for something?”

“Sometimes I do something so good, I just have to take the credit for it.”

“Oh, like the time you and Heeseung spray painted a –” Jungwon cuts himself off, lowering his voice a bit more, “An inappropriate drawing on the cafeteria wall? You just had to take credit for that?”

Jungwon is cute. He can’t even say the word dick. Riki wants to tease him about it, but he has to clear his name first.

“That was Heeseung’s fault,” Riki informs him. “He left evidence behind. I’m smarter than that.”

Jungwon’s eyes slide over to him for a quick moment, and then he shakes his head. “What about when you pulled the fire alarm?” He asks, and Riki almost trips over his own feet, shocked that Jungwon would bring it up so directly. “Why did you take credit for that? You didn’t have to. I was the only one that saw you do it.”

“They knew it was me,” Riki mutters. “The situation was too similar to the – the uh, first time. I figured they’d just find a way to punish me more if I didn’t admit it.”

“I still don’t understand,” Jungwon starts, biting down on his bottom lip for a quick second, “Why you did what you did.”

Riki shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. They were, without really meaning to, heading in the direction of the auditorium. “I don’t like bullies.”

Jungwon hums. “And that’s the only reason?” He asks, and then they’re standing outside of the auditorium doors, and Jungwon is pulling out a key attached to a lanyard. Riki glances down at it, then up at his face, brows furrowed. “I’m in the band, remember? I’m the student director,” he explains, shoving the key into the slot and turning it, pulling the door open and holding it until Riki enters. He toes off one of his shoes and uses it as a makeshift door stop again.

“Just how many keys do you have?”

Jungwon shrugs. “This one, and the one to the kitchen. I think that’s a normal amount.”

“Except you shouldn’t have a key to the kitchen, right?” Riki clarifies. “I heard you and Sunoo talking the other day. It’s his key, isn’t it? Why do you have it?”

“You’re trying to change the subject.”

“So are you.”

“Whatever,” Jungwon sighs, turning to face Riki as he walks backwards down the aisle, running his hands along the tops of the seats as he passes them. “Do you have your thing with you?” He asks, making a gesture like he was putting headphones on.

“I do,” Riki confirms, pulling his Walkman out of his pocket, following Jungwon up to the stage. “Different tape today, though.”

“Oh,” Jungwon says, sitting down on the piano bench, leaving enough space for Riki to sit beside him. He wonders how this already feels like routine, even though they’d only been in here together once before. Maybe more things than he cares to admit come naturally to him when it comes to Jungwon. “I liked the other one.”

“You only heard one song,” he points out, taking the seat despite the slight panic tightening his chest for reasons he can’t quite identify.

“Yeah, and I wanted to hear more. What do you have this time?”

Riki pulls the cassette out of his pocket, grimacing. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“Try me,” Jungwon shrugs. “I want to broaden my horizons.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling a bit when Riki hands him his headphones, putting them on so that only one of his ears is covered. “I want to start at Yale knowing what all the cool people are going to be listening to.”

“Are you saying I’m cool?” Riki asks teasingly, rewinding the tape until it clicks, pressing play after a moment. Jungwon has it loud enough that he can hear the sound leaking out, and he’s really not sure if The Clash will be his thing, but he finds himself hoping he’ll like it. He craves his approval, although he’s not sure why. Riki doesn’t crave approval from anyone.

“Of course you’re cool,” Jungwon agrees easily, which takes him aback for a moment. He’d expected some pushback, or at the very least, an eye roll. “Don’t look so surprised. You know you’re cool.”

“I’m really not,” Riki insists. “Everyone here thinks I’m a loser.”

“I don’t,” Jungwon says, looking over at him. “I think you’re the only person in this school who doesn’t care what people think. That’s cool.”

“Hm,” Riki hums, then bumps his shoulder into Jungwon’s gently. “That’s what I think about you.”

Jungwon snorts. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” he says. “You’re a badass.”

Jungwon laughs, loud and bright, and Riki finds himself smiling for a moment before he forces his face muscles back into a more neutral expression. He’s still kinda drunk. It’s not his fault. “You’re so full of it. I don’t think I can be called a badass if you had to fight someone for me. Twice.”

“I don’t think fighting makes someone a badass,” Riki says. “At least, not that kind of fighting. Your kind of fighting, though – I think it’s the coolest thing someone can do.”

Jungwon stares at him for a few long moments, his expression raw and vulnerable in a way Riki wasn’t prepared for. His wording was vague, maybe a little cowardly, but he thinks Jungwon understands what he meant. To keep going, to not let people get to you, to wear the things they hate about you like a badge of honour. It was why he always respected Jungwon, even before he knew him, and even more so now that he does.

“Thank you,” Jungwon says after a while. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me. You’re not this nice to anyone else, but you’re nice to me.”

Riki shrugs, staring down at the piano keys, his cheeks warming.

“I’m sorry I stopped trying to talk to you,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper. “I was – I think I was just embarrassed.”

“It’s okay,” Riki says, hoping his tone makes it clear that it really is, that he never resented Jungwon for it. “It’s not the first time someone’s been embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“No, not like that,” Jungwon clarifies quickly. “I was embarrassed that you felt like you had to protect me. I thought – I thought maybe you thought I was weak. I don’t know.”

“I don’t think you’re weak,” Riki says, a little too genuinely – the alcohol really was making him loose with his words. Normally, he would have found a way to make it into a joke, to reassure Jungwon without making it so serious.

“I know,” Jungwon nods. “I know that now.”

Neither of them speak for a few long seconds, and then Jungwon lifts his hands, resting his fingers on the piano keys.

“I don’t think I like this album as much, though,” Jungwon says, looking over at him. “Does that mean we can’t be friends again? Is it a dealbreaker?”

Riki laughs, shaking his head, warmth spreading across his skin at the use of the word friends. “It’s fine. I’ll bring you some tomorrow night that you might like better. What do you listen to normally?”

Jungwon shrugs. “Not much, honestly.”

“Not much?” Riki repeats. “How is that possible?”

Jungwon snorts. “Okay, I listen to music – but it’s all classical stuff. Nothing with words, or like, guitars. And if it does have guitars, it’s like, uh… Simon & Garfunkel? I have one album by them at home. And The Beatles.”

“You have the music taste of an old lady,” Riki says in exasperation.

“Well, that would make sense,” Jungwon starts, tone light, looking at Riki with one eyebrow raised, “Considering I was pretty much limited to my grandmother’s record collection.”

“Oh,” Riki says dumbly. “I’m… sorry, by the way. I didn’t know.”

Jungwon presses his lips together in a tight smile, and nods. “It’s okay. Thank you.”

Another few seconds of silence pass between them, and then Jungwon breaks it by pressing down on the keys of the piano, perfectly recreating the melody of Should I Stay or Should I Go as it blares from his headphones, the first time hesitantly, one note at a time, and then again more confidently, expanding on each note with a full chord.

“Wait – what the fuck?” Riki leans closer, getting a better view of Jungwon’s hands. “Did you just do that from listening to it one time?”

Jungwon shrugs, then does it again. “It’s a good riff. It’s very simple,” he says.

“Still, though. Is that something you can just do? You can just – listen to a song and know how to play it?”

Jungwon is clearly fighting a proud smile, biting down on his bottom lip, his rounded cheeks turning pink. “I guess so.”

“Do another one,” Riki says, reaching for where his Walkman is resting on Jungwon’s leg, accidentally brushing his fingers against the fabric of his pants as he does. They both freeze, and make brief, horrifically awkward eye contact, and then Riki drops it, wincing when it clatters to the floor, Jungwon yelping in surprise as the headphones get pulled off of his head. “Ah, fuck,” he curses, reaching down to get it at the same time Jungwon does, and their heads knock together hard enough that his vision actually blurs momentarily.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jungwon says quickly, flinching away from Riki, his hand pressing to the side of his head that had collided with his. “Is it broken? I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Riki breathes in relief, and it’s stupid, but he actually feels stinging at his eyes, like he was on the verge of tears. It’s just a stupid Walkman, but it’s a lot more than that to Riki, and Jungwon seems to know that without having ever been told. “Are you okay?” He asks, gesturing to his head area.

“I’m fine. You’re sure? I – I can buy you a new one if it is, or – I can pay to get that one fixed, just tell me –”

“Don’t be dumb,” Riki says, a little too harshly. “Sorry, I mean, no. It’s fine, it’s not broken,” he tells him, pressing play just to prove it, letting it get a few notes out before turning it off again. “All good. It was my fault, anyway.”

“Okay,” Jungwon says warily, like he still isn’t convinced Riki wasn’t angry at him.

Riki sits up straighter, putting his Walkman back in his pocket carefully. “Play something,” he says, attempting to move past the discomfort that was suddenly suffocating him.

Jungwon blinks, looking back at the piano. “Like what?”

“Anything,” Riki shrugs. “Something cool.”

Jungwon smiles a bit, looking more relaxed than he had been moments before, putting his fingers back on the keys. Riki knows what he’s chosen as soon as the first note rings out, and the sound pierces through his chest and buries itself in his heart, making it skip a beat, making his lungs contract and his breath hitch. He’s helpless to do anything other than listen as Jungwon plays, and it’s not perfect, a few notes missed or shyly stumbled over, but it’s so familiar to him, his mind fills in the gaps, and it sounds flawless to his ears.

“I don’t remember the rest,” Jungwon tells him eventually, sliding his hands off the keys and back into his lap. “You’ll have to play it for me again.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that much,” he says in awe. “You were half asleep for most of it.”

“It stuck with me,” Jungwon says, and Riki almost, for a moment, thinks he might not just be talking about the song.

“You know,” Riki says, embarrassingly breathless for no reason, “This is why I think you’re cooler than me.”

Jungwon laughs, and rolls his eyes, and Riki’s heart skips another beat, only this time he can’t blame it on the music, because there isn’t any playing. The only sound ringing out around them now is Jungwon’s laughter, but the effect it has on him is just the same.

And he doesn’t know what that means, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to find out.