Chapter Text
The air in the classroom felt heavier than usual.
Maybe it was the late summer heat clinging stubbornly to the school blazers that were still enforced despite the weather, or maybe it was the quiet tension that had been simmering for weeks, like something waiting to boil over.
Park Jungsoo sat in his usual seat at the back of the classroom, his fingers tapping restlessly against the wooden desk. His Math notebook lay open, but his eyes weren’t focused on the page. There were very much focused on a particular figure sitting two tables ahead.
On him.
Jungsoo was never really fond of Kim Heechul. As much as the teachers had always teased the two of them of almost being ‘twins’ due to their birthdays only being a few days apart, Jungsoo had never seemed to agree with that sentiment. If anything, he found it almost ironic that two people who were only born nine days apart felt so impossibly distant. Heechul was loud where Jungsoo was careful, opinionated where Jungsoo was observant, and much too unpredictable for someone who preferred to have everything quietly in place.
Heechul leaned back in his chair, one leg stretched out and the other curled against the chair leg like he owned the place. His uniform was just slightly out of code, with his blazer draped over his chair, his tie slightly undone and shirt untucked. The pen in his hand spun effortlessly between his fingers, looking completely unbothered by the ongoing lesson.
Jungsoo’s jaw tightened. That was always the problem.
Heechul never looked like anything bothered or got to him. Not the members in the student union that others found snobbish, not the teachers that always seemed to lecture him in every lesson, not even the constant complaints from classmates that couldn’t decide whether to feel annoyed or fascinated by his presence.
And somehow lately, not even Jungsoo could decide how to feel about Heechul, which for some reason seemed to irritate him even more than usual.
“Park Jungsoo?”
Jungsoo’s thoughts were cut short by the sound of the teacher’s voice.
“Yes sir,” he replied quickly, straightening in his seat.
“Since you’re so focused on the lesson,” the teacher said gruffly, “perhaps you would like to solve the next question for the class?”
A few snickers echoed. Jungsoo stood up smoothly, ignoring the looks from his classmates as he walked over to the front of the class. He picked up the chalk, writing out the solution methodically.
Jungsoo could feel it.
That gaze.
“Yah, you missed a step,” Heechul’s voice cut through the class as Jungsoo stopped mid-motion, turning slightly to face the younger boy.
“What?”
Heechul stood, stretching like he had all the time in the world before walking closer to the front of the class. “You see that last part?” he pointed out. “You skipped a step. It’s not wrong, just sloppy.”
Jungsoo stared back at him. “Then, why don’t you do it next time?”
Heechul shrugged, a slight smirk growing on his face. “I would, but you looked oh so eager.”
That fucking smirk again, Jungsoo grumbled to himself. It wasn’t even a mean comment, which was the most frustrating part to him. It was casual, like none of this even mattered.
“You always do that,” Jungsoo muttered.
Heechul tilted his head. “Do what?”
“Act like nothing ever matters,” Jungsoo set down the chalk harder than necessary, the sharp clack echoing faintly in the classroom.
A few students shifted in their seats. The teacher, who had stepped out briefly to retrieve something, wasn’t there to diffuse whatever this was turning into.
Heechul let out a quiet laugh, but there was something thinner about it this time. “Imagine saying that when you act like everything matters too much. It’s just a math problem, Jungsoo, not your life’s purpose.”
The taller boy stepped closer to Jungsoo until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder at the front of the class. Jungsoo didn’t even realise how close Heechul had stepped until he realised he was close enough to notice how his expression wasn’t fully settled into that usual careless smirk. For a split second, something flickered. Something almost like irritation.
“Why do you care so much anyway?” Heechul asked, his tone almost condescending.
The question shouldn’t have hit Jungsoo as hard as it did.
But it did.
Maybe it was the way Heechul had asked the question almost carelessly, like it was something insignificant. Or maybe it was the weeks of quiet irritation, stacking up until there was no room left to hold it all in.
Jungsoo’s fingers curled at his sides. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Heechul raised a brow. “Oh? Try me.”
The classroom suddenly felt too small, the air pressing in on Jungsoo’s chest in a way that made it harder to breathe. He didn’t know exactly when it started - the constant friction, the unspoken tension that seemed to snap tighter every time Heechul opened his mouth.
Maybe it was the way Heechul never took anything seriously. Maybe it was the way Jungsoo couldn’t stop noticing him.
“You act like everything’s a joke,” Jungsoo said, his voice low and edged. “Some of us actually have things to lose.”
Heechul’s expression shifted. “And you think I don’t?”
Jungsoo let out a short scoff, gesturing vaguely. “You? Hah! You walk around like nothing touches you, like none of this even matters.”
There was a beat of silence.
And for the first time, the air around Kim Heechul shifted completely. The once casual looseness in his posture tightened, his shoulders squaring ever so slightly.
“You don’t know anything about what I try,” he shot back.
“Well, show it then!” Jungsoo snapped. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re just wasting everyone’s time.”
Silence fell.
Heechul let out a dry laugh, like there was no humour in it now. “God, you’re so exhausting.”
That landed harder than it should have.
Something in Jungsoo snapped.
Before he could think, before he could stop himself-
His fist connected.
The sound was sharp, echoing unnaturaly in the stunned silence of the classroom.
Heechul staggered back a step, more from surprise than the force of Jungsoo’s punch, his hand immediately coming up to his cheek. His eyes widened, not in pain, but in disbelief.
Jungsoo froze, taking in the other boy’s expression. There was no smirk. No teasing. Just something raw and unguarded that flickered across his face for a fraction of a second.
“...You piece of shit,” Heechul muttered.
And then he lunged.
The next few moments blurred together into chaos. They crashed into a row of desks as classmates tried to pull them apart. Heechul’s fist came fast, catching Jungsoo off guard as it collided with his shoulder, sending him stumbling back. Jungsoo swung again, messier and less controlled, the hit glancing past Heechul’s jaw, just enough to sting.
The sound of chairs screeching and desks shifting was just enough to snap something into place as the classroom door slammed open.
“What is going on here!?” The teacher’s voice cut through everything like a whip.
Hands dragged them apart, forcing space between them. Both boys were breathing hard, eyes locked, neither willing to back down.
Heechul wiped the corner of his lip, wincing slightly before letting out a humourless laugh.
“You’ve got issues, Park Jungsoo.”
Jungsoo didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
Not when his heart was still pounding for reasons he didn’t fully understand.
---
The principal’s office smelled faintly of vending machine coffee and old papers.
“You both know that this kind of behaviour will not be tolerated,” the principal’s voice was firm. “Especially from students like you.”
Jungsoo stared straight ahead, his posture stiff in the chair, arms crossed.
Heechul leaned back slightly in his chair, though even that looked less relaxed than usual.
The principal’s gaze shifted between them.
“You will both be suspended for three days. Reflect on what you’ve done, and return with a written statement of apology. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir,” Jungsoo replied, his voice quiet.
Heechul only replied with a short “Mm.”
The dismissal came shortly after, but neither of them of them looked at each other as they stepped out of the office and went their separate ways.
Three days.
Three days to think about what had just happened.
And somehow, that felt heavier than the fight itself.