Chapter Text
The KQ Institute for Troubled Boys was actually a prison disguised as a boarding school.
Or, at least, that’s how their students felt.
Teens completing their high school years within KQ’s walls were sent there by parents concerned about “troubling” behaviour.
With such vague criteria, the reason students were sent could range from getting poor grades like Yunho was, to beating up three other boys for looking at him wrong and getting expelled like Mingi did.
Basically, the school would have been more aptly named the KQ Institute for Rich Parents to Send Kids They Don’t Want to Parent Anymore. About half the students in attendance would have done perfectly fine staying in public school, and only a small percentage were actually genuinely “troubled,” but either way they were all stuck living together until graduation.
It was Jongho’s first day as a junior at KQ. His parents sent him because he was “hanging out with the wrong crowd” at his old school, and "going down the same path as his brother". Exactly one of his friends had a tattoo and a couple piercings and that was all the evidence they had needed.
When his parents pulled into the loop where everyone was dropping off their kids, he noticed that about half were hugging goodbye, some were just waving, and a couple parents hadn't gotten out of the car, leaving their kids to collect their suitcases and driving away without a word.
One particular family caught his eye when the father backhanded his son across the face and yelled something Jongho couldn’t quite hear from in his own car. The son was built like an upside down triangle, with broad shoulders and a slim waist that one could only achieve by working out quite frequently. Even his face was sharp and angular. By all means he looked like he probably could have taken his dad out, or anyone else if he wanted to, but instead he just looked at the ground.
Jongho tore his gaze away as their car pulled in.
When he got out he walked to the trunk and grabbed his suitcase before his parents were even fully out of the car.
“Don’t leave me here,” he heard someone sniffle behind him.
He turned to see someone about his height with dark hair standing in an oversized hoodie with his arms wrapped around his body like he was trying to give himself a hug.
“Grow up, Yeosang-ah,” the man he was talking to responded. The woman who Jongho assumed was the boy’s mom stepped forward, looking like she might try to comfort her son, but the father put his arm in front of her and prevented her from stepping forward anymore.
She didn’t struggle against him, but Jongho could see her mouth “I love you” to her son anyway.
Before he could watch anymore of the exchange, his own parents rounded the car and his dad grabbed the suitcase he was lifting out of his hand and placed it on the sidewalk next to them.
“I don’t belong here. Eomma, Appa, I’m not troubled. I’m smart, I’m a grade ahead in school. I was doing just fine where I was,” Jongho tried to reason for the nth time since he was informed of his impending transfer.
“We know you’re smart in school, Jongho-ya, we’re just worried about how smart your choice in friends is. Those boys you were hanging out with…” she trailed off and Jongho couldn’t hold back a scoff.
“You never listen to me. I don’t know why I still try. Goodbye, I’ll see you both at Christmas,” Jongho said while turning and walking without looking back. His family had never been huggers anyway.
If the concrete construction of the outside of the building looked like a prison, then the low-ceiling corridors on the inside matched the theme quite nicely.
When Jongho walked in he was greeted by a table with two men who looked the right age to be teachers sitting behind it with stern looks on their faces. Jongho approached confidently, refusing to show any of the nerves he was internally experiencing.
“Name,” one of the men curtly demanded.
“Choi Jongho,” the younger replied.
“Room 24, down the hall on the right. You’re sharing with seven other boys. Curfew is at 10:00pm, lights out at 11:00.”
The man handed Jongho a couple pieces of paper and gestured to the hall he was to go down.
As he walked past all of the other rooms, he glanced in to find four bunk beds, eight beds total, in each room. Most were still empty, with just a few boys already unpacking.
There were only 25 rooms total, so Jongho had to walk right to the end of the hall to reach the one marked 24.
As he went to open the door, he realized that it was likely locked, and he didn’t have a key. He tried the handle and was surprised to find that it opened. Walking in, he found that only one person had already arrived.
“Do we get keys to the room?” Jongho asked the short boy sprawled out on a bottom bunk, reading a book.
“Nope,” the boy replied, still looking at his book. “There’s a deadbolt, but it’s common courtesy not to use it because you can’t unlock it from the outside, so the rooms generally stay unlocked. Unless there’s an emergency, then staff are allowed to engage a mechanical lock to trap us inside,” the boy replied.
He shifted the book to the side a bit and Jongho could see that the boy’s hair was bright blue. It suited him.
“Oh. That makes sense, I guess. Definitely doesn’t go against any basic human rights or anything,” Jongho mumbled under his breath.
The blue haired boy snorted and finally put down his book, smiling.
“I like you. What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’m Jongho.”
“I’m Hongjoong. Nice to meet you. Pick a bed before everyone else arrives. Personally I think the bottom bunks farthest from the door are the best, but if you’re a top bunk kinda guy you’re welcome to be my bedmate,” he replied.
Jongho smiled a bit at the term despite himself, and thought that he might become friends with this Hongjoong.
“I’ve always wanted the top bunk,” he replied, putting his suitcase on the shelf by the ladder and climbing up into the bed above Hongjoong.
“Suit yourself, don’t come complaining to me when you get tired of climbing up and down every time you need to pee in the middle of the night,” Hongjoong replied.
Before their friendly banter could continue, the door opened and another boy walked in. He was a bit taller than Jongho, and he didn’t remember seeing him outside.
The second the other boy’s face became visible, Hongjoong sat up in bed with a huge smile.
“Hwa? Seriously? You’re in this room too?” Hongjoong said.
The other boy nodded, a huge smile on his face as well.
Hongjoong jumped off of his bed and the two embraced. Jongho figured they must be really good friends to hug that hard.
Suddenly Hongjoong jerked back, his smile falling into a confused frown as he held his friend at arms length and looked at him more closely.
“But…” Hongjoong said slowly, reluctantly. “Hwa, this is a junior room, shouldn’t you be with the seniors?” he asked.
His friend, “Hwa,” looked away then and pulled out of his grip. He looked at the floor and shook his head minutely, not meeting his friends' eyes. Jongho felt a little like he was intruding on something personal.
“You’re not serious,” Hongjoong said. “Please tell me they didn’t hold you back a year despite your good grades just because of that,” he continued, in complete disbelief.
His friend just nodded again, still not looking up.
“I’m going to kill my-” he cut off with a glance back to Jongho and cleared his throat before continuing. “I’m going to kill the headmaster. This is insane, Seonghwa, they can’t just do this!”
Seonghwa looked up then, a small smile on his face as he shrugged, like he had already accepted this “insane” decision Hongjoong was talking about.
Then he seemed to pause and think for a second, tilting his head and gesturing to Hongjoong like he was asking some unspoken question. Suddenly Jongho noticed that the other boy hadn't actually said a word since he came into the room.
“It’s different for me,” Hongjoong replied to his friend. “I actually did something to deserve being held back a year,” he said while turning and walking back to sit on his bed.
Seonghwa followed and took the bed across from him, the other bottom bunk farthest from the door, and sat down. He waited for his friend to meet his eyes then shook his head with an expression of mixed sadness and disagreement. Hongjoong just looked away.
“Hi… I’m Jongho,” the boy cautiously spoke up from the top bunk he was sitting cross-legged on.
“Seonghwa,” the boy simply replied with a small wave and a smile.
Jongho was surprised the boy actually spoke, and it must have shown on his face because Hongjoong leaned forward in his bed to look around the railing up at Jongho and laughed on seeing his expression.
Seonghwa laughed too, and Jongho chuckled in embarrassment.
“Sorry, just, you guys had an impressive conversation without Seonghwa saying anything. I shouldn’t have assumed…” Jongho said as his face blushed.
“It’s okay,” Hongjoong said, taking pity on the younger boy. “Seonghwa doesn’t talk very often, especially not to people he barely knows. You should take it as a compliment,” Hongjoong said.
Seonghwa leaned forward and slapped the other’s arm lightly, shaking his head like he was trying to scold him, but the smile creeping onto his face gave him away. In a second the two burst out laughing again, and Jongho found himself unable to help joining in.
Just as they start to settle, the door opened again to reveal the boy with broad shoulders and sharp features that Jongho had seen in the parking lot. His cheek was still red from the slap Jongho also saw.
The boy froze for a second in the doorway, then looked down before speaking.
“Hi,” he began in a strong voice that matched his build but contrasted his posture. “My name is San.”
“Hello, San. I’m Hongjoong. This is Seonghwa,” the second boy gave a small wave despite the fact that San wasn't looking up to see it.
“I’m Jongho,” the third boy added, kind of awkwardly.
“Nice to meet you,” San replied with a bow. “Which bed should I take?”
The boy finally looked up, and both Hongjoong and Seonghwa seemed taken aback for a second by the face they were seeing for the first time. He looked like he should be a model.
Jongho, seeing his face from closer now, noticed that the boy had a slit in one eyebrow. He thought that it suited him.
Seonghwa was the first to reply, gesturing to the bunk above the one he took with a smile which San seemed to immediately find comforting.
“Really? Are you sure?” the boy asked.
Seonghwa nodded and gestured for San to come further into the room and climb up to his bed.
“Ok, thank you,” he said with another bow before walking to the shelf next to the ladder and putting his suitcase up like Jongho did. He climbed up and sat down, seeming to finally relax a bit as he lifted his gaze and looked around the room.
“Hey, what’s up with your face? It looks kinda red,” Hongjoong said.
San hesitated for a second, and Jongho wondered if he was actually going to tell the truth. Their eyes met for a second, and somehow Jongho could tell that he was not going to.
“I fell asleep against the window on the way here, must still have the imprint on my cheek,” San replied with a forced laugh.
Hongjoong hummed and Jongho could tell he didn’t believe the other, but he decided to leave it alone for now.
The door opened again, and two really tall boys walked in, one behind the other.
The first was wearing an all black outfit, complete with chunky combat boots and multiple chains hanging from his jeans. The bleached tips of his hair were spiked up with gel, and he had thick black liner smudged around his eyes. His expression was neutral, but his appearance gave him a fairly threatening vibe.
The second appeared to be exactly the opposite in almost every way. He was wearing plain blue jeans with a white and green sweater, a simple silver chain around his neck the only jewellery he wore. His shoes were classic converse and his hair was styled fluffy and soft, falling gently around his eyes and framing his face nicely. He smiled as he looked around the room.
The contrast nearly made Jongho burst out laughing, but he managed to hold it in.
Hongjoong did not.
“Wait,” he said between laughter. “What is this supposed to be, night and day? Yin and Yang?”
“Yunho and Mingi,” the one wearing bright colours replied, gesturing to himself first then the other boy.
“Are you guys friends?” San asked, a little in disbelief.
Suddenly Mingi took two steps forward, a snarl on his face.
“What about it? You think we can’t be friends?”
As Mingi stepped closer his tall figure appeared even more imposing, and San flinched back, despite the fact that he was safely on the top bunk.
“Hey, hey Mingi, stop,” Yunho said, stepping forward and putting a hand in front of the other boy. “It was just a question, back down.”
Mingi paused, looking like he was debating whether to listen to his friend or not. After a moment of tense silence, he turned and hoisted his suitcase into the cupboard next to Jongho’s before beginning to climb into the top bunk near the door on the same side of the room.
“We are. Friends, that is. We went to the same high school last year,” Yunho replied, smiling at San who didn’t appear to have fully calmed down yet.
“Well, good for you guys. I’m Hongjoong, that’s Seonghwa,” the former said while the latter once again gave a small wave and a smile.
“I’m Jongho,” he spoke up from his bunk, making eye contact with Yunho, who smiled back, then Mingi, who kept the same neutral expression, but at least gave a little nod.
“S-San,” the boy stuttered, clearing his throat afterwards and squaring his shoulders like he was trying to cover the slip up.
“Nice to meet you. All of you,” Yunho replied.
He dropped his stuff next to the bunk under Mingi’s, by the door. Everyone in the room wordlessly started doing their own thing, Hongjoong picking up his book again while most of the others started unpacking.
They stayed in a comfortable silence for another ten minutes or so before the door opened again.
A shorter boy with a beaming smile and a terribly messy haircut, uneven and sticking up all over, burst into the room.
“Wow! Hi everyone, I didn’t realize I was so late, most of the beds are already taken! I guess I still get to choose between a top bunk and a bottom bunk, which is good because I was really hoping for a bottom bunk, and wow these beds are comfy! I don’t know why but I was expecting them to be rock hard like they are in the movies-”
“Hi!” Hongjoong cut off the other’s rambling with an amused smile. “I’m glad you’re so excited, but you haven’t even told us your name yet,” he continued.
The boy froze, looking down in embarrassment. He dropped his bag on his bed and sat, turning around to address the room and taking a deep breath to calm himself down.
“Right, uh, yeah. Sorry. Wooyoung! I’m Wooyoung,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, Wooyoung. I’m Hongjoong, this is Seonghwa.”
“I’m Jongho.”
“San.”
“Hi, I’m Yunho!”
They introduced themselves one by one, almost like it was choreographed, but there was a pause after Yunho. He hit the bunk above him with his hand, and the boy sitting above him grumbled, “Mingi.”
“Okay, cool! I already forgot all of your names. We should make name tags or something for the beds! I brought pens, we can all decorate them in our own personal style!” Wooyoung replied.
The clear consensus of the room was that decorating name tags was one of the last things anyone wanted to do, but it soon became clear that Wooyoung wasn’t picking up on that, so Hongjoong replied.
“Maybe later, yeah? Everyone’s still getting settled.”
Wooyoung smiled and nodded, then turned and began unpacking all of his stuff. Hongjoong and Seonghwa shared a brief smile, then everyone went back to what they had been doing.
A little less than five minutes passed before the door opened once more, revealing the eighth and final member of the room.
Jongho immediately recognized him as the boy who had been crying in the parking lot.
He was looking down, not making eye contact with anyone, and once he walked in he just stood there, not looking like he had any intention of moving.
“Hey there,” Hongjoong said, acting like the designated spokesperson once again. “What’s your name?”
The boy didn’t reply immediately. He let go of the handle of his suitcase and wrapped his arms around himself first, like he had in the parking lot. Then he whispered, in a voice barely loud enough to be audible, “Yeosang.”
“Hi Yeosang, welcome to the room. Looks like the last bunk available is that top one by the door, do you want help lifting your suitcase up?” Hongjoong asked.
Immediately Yeosang’s head snapped up, his eyes wide, and much louder than he’d been a moment ago, he gasped out, “the top?”
Everyone who was paying attention, meaning everyone but Mingi, clocked the panic in his eyes immediately, but Wooyoung was the first to respond.
“Or the bottom! You can have this one, I’ve always wanted a top bunk anyway!” Wooyoung said, already packing up the stuff he’d almost completely unpacked and going to move his bag onto the shelf next to the ladder.
“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said, already having memorized everyone’s names. “You just said you were hoping for a bottom bunk. I can switch instead, I don’t really care either way,” he continued.
“No no no! I want the top bunk, I swear. I’m totally happy moving!” And even though everyone in the room was a little confused, especially when they saw how frantically Wooyoung was moving, they didn’t say anything since he already had all his stuff up on the shelf. He scrambled up the ladder and sat down on the bed, turning back out to the room and gesturing for Yeosang to take the bottom bunk he just vacated.
Yeosang had seemed frozen in place until then, but at Wooyoung’s gesture he finally moved to put his stuff on the bed. Then he sat down, body facing the room but head down, not making any move to unpack.
“Okay everyone, round of introductions one more time!” Hongjoong announced, breaking the apprehensive silence that had fallen over the room.
“I’m Hongjoong, that’s Seonghwa.”
“I’m Jongho.”
“San.”
“I’m Yunho, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Mingi.”
“And I’m Wooyoung! Your bunk bed buddy!”
Yeosang nodded and gave the room a small smile before turning and starting to unpack.
“Well, alright then,” Hongjoong said. “This is it. Welcome to room 24.”