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jeongin is everything. jisung has always thought so. the moment that he met him, with his precious braces and smile that brings out dimples and turns his eyes into little slits, he’s wanted to ask him out.
his friends keep telling him to do it. changbin nudges him every time that they see him, and chan intentionally calls jeongin over to their lunch table whenever he passes by them in the cafeteria to try and get him to sit with them. When jeongin agrees, jisung feels like his chest is going to explode with how hard his heart is pounding.
he’s so nervous around jeongin. he doesn’t know what to say or do, so instead of keeping his mouth shut like a normal person, he explodes. everything that’s on his mind comes out in a ramble, and he flings his arms around dramatically like he’s giving a presentation to thousands of people, not talking to his crush.
of course, because jisung’s luck is amazing, jeongin is unimpressed with him almost every time they’re alone together. he’s still polite, but he’s dismissive, and jisung is absolutely certain that it means he hates him. he has to, because why would jeongin practically run away from him when he’s just trying to tell him hi (and every aspect of how sound mixing works to perfect the balance of background music, but that’s not relevant, obviously)?
“he hates me,” jisung whines dramatically to chan as he slumps over the table. he didn’t even bother to grab something to eat, too distraught after catching chan up on the last disaster he had when he ran into jeongin in the library. he managed to explode a pen on himself and the younger as he rambled on about bass levels and why making sure they aren’t too overpowering is important.
“he doesn’t hate you,” chan says sympathetically as he pats jisung’s head. he slides over half of his sandwich to the younger and encourages him to eat it. “he’s probably just overwhelmed. he’s not a music major, sungie, he has no idea what you’re talking about half the time. imagine if minho-ah rambled on to you about dance technique for twenty minutes when you’re trying to ask him how he’s doing.”
jisung looks up at him. “he does do that,” he says as he narrows his eyes at chan accusingly. his hyung isn’t helping, jisung’s determined to make it known.
chan merely smiles at him and ruffles his hair before he takes a bite out of his sandwich. “try taking a deep breath before you talk to him, count to three or something,” he says around the bite. “let yourself breathe and then ask him to go out for coffee or something.”
jisung rolls his eyes. that will never work. “yeah,” he mumbles, sarcasm heavy in his words. “okay.”
chan shakes his head. “you won’t know until you try it,” he tells him before turning to look around the cafeteria for changbin. he’s late, as usual; probably at the gym.
“oh!” jisung blinks, and he looks in the direction chan’s looking in, expecting to see changbin strolling over with a plate piled high of meat (and a piece of salad, vegetables are important), but instead he spots jeongin making his way through the cafeteria with his tray. “there he is. innie!”
“hyung, no!” jisung seethes as he tries to drag chan’s hand down while the man waves his crush over. it’s too late, jeongin sees them, and a smile lights up on his face. he’s even cuter without his braces, fuck. jisung knew he was getting them off, but now that he sees him without them, he’s screwed.
“just talk to him,” chan tells him as jeongin approaches their table. he pops the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth and pats jisung’s back. “gotta go.”
“what? no, wait!” jisung scrambles to hop up and chase after chan, but the man’s gone in the blink of an eye. he makes a mental note to kill him later.
when jeongin sits down, jisung’s entire body clams up. he’s having a panic attack, he’s sure of it. his heart is racing, he can’t breathe, his fucking palms are sweating. maybe it’s not a panic attack, maybe this is a heart attack. he’s going to die and it’s going to be all bang motherfucking chan’s fault. this is terrible.
“hey, hyung,” jeongin says as he slides into the seat in front of him. “where’d chan go?”
he’s a traitor, and we do not mention that name at this table or any other ever again for the rest of our lives. christopher fucking bang, burn in hell. jisung wants so badly to blurt that out at jeongin, but chan told him to try, so he does. he tries to breathe, but the breath comes out shaky, and he probably ends up sputtering instead of actually breathing based on the way jeongin’s looking at him.
“are you okay?”
no, jisung is very much not okay, thank you for asking. he is so far removed from okay that that word isn’t even in his dictionary, but he’s trying. it’s not going very well, but he’s doing his best. he’s just a little guy, after all.
he counts to 3 in his head, thinking maybe that will work better than the breathing. his mind’s going a million miles a minute. he could challenge the speed of light at this point, he’s almost certain of it, and the numbers do nothing to slow his brain down, but they do quiet the noise. by the time he hits three, he can actually kind of acknowledge that jeongin’s sitting in front of him without feeling like he’s going to puke and die all at the same time.
“hyung?” jeongin tries again, and the confused look on his face is so cute that jisung feels cuteness aggression crawling up his spine. he wants to reach out and pinch his cheeks so badly, but he also kinda wants to kiss him right then and there without a care in the world. if only.
“do you maybe wannagogetcoffeewithmesometime?” it comes out as a tangle of words, but jisung did it. he didn’t ramble about music theory, he didn’t scare jeongin off the moment he sat down, maybe concern him, but he’s not running. instead, jeongin’s looking at him with that same confused look on his face, and jisung’s wondering if he accidentally cursed instead of asking him out.
“what did you just say?” jeongin asks, and of course he didn’t understand him. if his mind’s going a million miles a minute, then his mouth’s going at least a hundred.
jisung counts to 3 again, but quicker this time. it’s not so much to silence his brain as it is to slow him down. it helped the first time, kinda. maybe it’ll help again.
“do you wanna, uh, go get coffee with me?” he tries again before realising that he didn’t specify when. “not now, obviously, um, sometime. whenever, really. or never. that’s fine too, if you don’t want to. i mean, i wouldn’t want to-”
“hyung.” jeongin quickly cuts him off, and jisung’s fight or flight triggers immediately. he’s about to bolt. give him five seconds, he’ll be halfway across campus, just you wait. he’s practically ready to spring from his chair, but when he looks at jeongin, the younger is smiling, his dimples out and proud and god, he’s so cute.
“i’ve been waiting for you to ask,” jeongin tells him. “changbin-hyung told me the first week of classes that you like me, i’ve just been waiting for you to tell me that yourself.”
changbin did what? jisung was going to kill both of his best friends.
but wait, what?
jisung looks at jeongin with wide eyes, surprised at the responds. “you- really?’ he asks, his voice nothing but a squeak.
“really,” jeongin tells him. “as for that sometime, i’m free now.”
okay, maybe he won’t kill both of them, just changbin. chan can live for now.