Chapter Text
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"I'm so glad you're joining the literature club."
"Hey, I never agreed to join." Jisung pouts.
It's been ages since Chan started pestering him about joining his club, which he still continued to do so to this day.
However, the cost of being best friends since diapers is agreeing to their every whim after a certain period of initially denying, and Jisung has unfortunately found himself in that predicament now.
They were heading towards their college after the bus ride from home, the sun cooking them alive on the sidewalk.
The weather had initially made Jisung want to slam the door into Chan's face when he saw how cheery and unaffected the other was by the UV-rays, but he stopped himself beforehand because that would've been pretty rude. Maybe. Probably.
Also because he didn't want to see him complain about it to his mother, so.
Safe to say, Jisung is not only fully drenched in sweat now because of the sun itself, but also because of the thick layers of sunscreen he lathered on as protection.
He wishes he had slammed that door with double the disrespect, but it's already too late now.
"I just don't understand the appeal of writing my thoughts down on paper for the world to see." They continued down the busy street, Jisung meticulously avoiding bumping into anyone lest he gets their sweat on him.
"Imagine if I wake up one day and find out somebody posted my entire diary online, and then I get doxxed and publicly humiliated and have to-" Jisung surpasses the shiver racking through him. "What if I get expelled, huh? Who'll feed my baby Richard then?"
Besides him, Chan rolls his eyes. "Stop being dramatic, no one has it out for you. You're not even really joining the club anyways, just like you said. And also, I have to discuss with the other members beforehand on whether we'll officially let your ass in or not."
Jisung hums, feeling the droplets of sweat sliding down his back. "So it's a cult then."
Chan sighs, "Yes. Of course. The college students that work twelve-hour shifts at their nearest 7/11 and can barely afford rent are definitely part of a cult." He smacks Jisung at the back of his head, "And I'm definitely the all-mighty leader. Kneel before me and give me twenty dollars right now unless you want to be fired."
Jisung scowls, rubbing the back of his head in exaggeration. He shouldn't poke him further, but it's hilarious to see Chan lose his cool, "That sounds kinda kinky, hyung."
Chan smacks him on the head again, and Jisung doesn't get the time to retaliate since they've already reached the entrance of the school now.
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"Chan-ah, who's this?"
They finally reached the club after a quick detour to get Jisung his emergency iced Americano from the cafeteria, much to Chan and his wallets dismay.
And truthfully speaking- Jisung doesn't really like his college all that much.
He wasn't a high achiever in highschool, only average at best, and he didn't plan on upgrading that in the next phase of his life either.
For him, there's no point in being overzealous about these things since, at the end of the day, there's a pretty big chance he's going to be six feet under the soil anyways.
He's average, has a nice group of friends- that consists of only Chan and Changbin- and even has a pet lizard back at home.
Maybe he'll even get married in the future, have a few kids. Die and then be buried in his backyard.
And he's happy with that. He's content, isn't greedy for anything more than that type of life.
However.
Seeing the man in front of him is kinda making him reevaluate his entire life's purpose.
"Minho-yah, I told you about this idiot, didn't I?" Chan winds an arm around Jisung, embracing him closer, "This is Jisung, my lazy and stinky dongsaeung." He feels a rather aggressive peck on the top of his head.
Jisung gawks, aggressively pushing away the heavy arms that were borderline choking him. "What the hell- I do not stink!" he yelps at Chan, who's looking far too relaxed for whatever shit he just spoke.
Jisung turns to the other guy still standing, still observing. He winces, "I'm serious, please don't think whatever he said was true- I'm much cleaner than him. I'm clean."
The guy merely blinks back at him. That action made Jisung realize how feline of a man he looked. Sharp narrow eyes, a defined nose, and cute lips. His hair was a light brown colour, which softened his overall pronounced features.
He was wearing what is probably the literature club's personal uniform, which Jisung didn't know was a thing the college clubs did.
The uniform itself was plain but classy, a navy blue coat over a grey sweater and white tie and vest, paired with dark grey slacks. On paper, it was an okay uniform, but the guy made it look way too boujee than it really is.
It doesn't really make sense why he's wearing clothes that are clearly meant for the winter weather, but Chan doesn't seem bothered by it so Jisung doesn't point it out either.
"It's okay." The guy spoke in a gentle manner. "I'm Lee Minho, the literature club's president," he extends out a hand, "And you are?"
Jisung hears himself slightly stutter, "Han Jisung, majoring in business and finance." He takes the hand in a brief yet firm handshake. "Currently not part of any club," he mumbles out under that scrutinizing gaze of the man.
From the corner of his eye, he can see Chan quietly observing the encounter between the two, not pointing out the obvious that he'd already said Jisungs name out loud.
"Nice to meet you Jisung, come on inside. I'm happy to welcome you here."
The interior was exactly like Jisung expected, decorated within the limits of what the departments and the budgets of a college student allowed. Boring just like every other classroom.
A pink banner with cute doodles on it was hung up on the whiteboard though, which looked off-putting against the rest of the mundane colours of the class. There was also a faint sweet scent of vanilla in the air that Jisung barely noticed as he walked in.
There were two other students in the room, wearing the same clothes as their club president. Their bags were splayed in the chairs besides them, one them seemingly overflowed with what looked like comics and mangas. One of the table nearer to the white board had a stack of papers spread out on it.
The two students didn't really bat as much as an eye towards Jisung entering, and he's greatful for that.
Jisung briefly let's himself bask in the cool air conditioning for a second before he felt a nudge against his shoulder.
Chan clears his throat, "Guys, meet our clubs newest member," he exclaims.
It catches the attention of the two other members who were nose-deep in their books. "This is Jisung, my friend that I told you guys about, and he's finally joining the literature club."
"That's not really set in stone.." he mumbles meekly but the other ignores it, pushing him further into the class till he's seated. The amount of eyes focusing on him with full attention has him fluster, but Chan's supportive grip on his shoulder brings him some sort of comfort.
"This is Hyunjin," Chan points to the guy with a broody and sullen atmosphere around him, "And this is Seungmin." The guy Chan points to looks like a dog that acts difficult just to annoy its owner on purpose.
"That's Minho, and you already know me."
Minho was different though.
Mainly because he was the most beautiful man Jisung has ever seen, but still. Something seemed different about him.
Something odd enough that Jisung can sense it but can't quite figure out what it really is. Whatever. It's probably just his anxiety flaring up these thoughts.
Minho was casually leaning against the grand piano with a lazy look on his face, going through some papers in his hands, yet he still looked up every now and then. It was apparent that his eyes were calculating every move of everyone in the room.
He catches Jisung staring and sends a pretty smile to him. Jisung doubts his expression was anything but tense, but he tries his best in sending a smile back. He hopes Minho doesn't pry further into that.
The dog-guy, however, seems like he wouldn't just pry, but rather rip off the hinges of whatever secret Jisung ever attempts to hide.
"Why are you here?"
Jisung can't stop the snort that slipped out from the sheer audacity, "Excuse me?"
"You don't seem like someone interested in reading." How the dog-guy, no- Seungmin, spawned in the seat next to him out of thin air, Jisung has no clue.
"I do read occasionally but I write more than that." The lyric notebook in his bag is proof of that. "Didn't Chan tell you about that?"
Seungmin ignores his question. "What do you read? Classic novels or the modern books? Or something else, like Manga. Manga is great, right? They're considered books, right? Don't you agree with that?"
The last question seemed more of a threat than real curiousity. Jisung gulps, "Uh. My favourite movie is Howl's moving castle, if that counts as anything."
A twinkle appeared in Seungmins eye, seemingly pleased at the answer. Which was far more terrifying than the abyss he had previously. "That counts. So you're more of a listener than reader, I see. I'm assuming you have a notebook in your bag that's filled with lyrics professing about how much of a hopeless romantic you are and how much you yearn to be loved and cared for, and-"
Jisung chokes on his spit. That was telling enough. Seungmin cackles next to him.
Distantly, he can tell that Chan's back in his own seat now, a few tables away from him, tweaking away on his laptop about the song him, Changbin, and Jisung were currently producing together. Thus leaving him entirely alone in a room of people he doesn't really know and Seungmin.
Bastard. I really should've slammed the door.
"Seungminnie, don't harass the newcomer." Minho chides with a lilt in his voice, not looking up from where he was focused on the table with the papers now. Almost like he teleported or something. The pen twirling in his hand was also unfairly attractive, and Jisung breaks his gaze from him with much difficulty than he expected.
Seungmin doesn't back off besides him, clearing his throat and leans in slightly. He examines the embarrassment on Jisungs face. "I was just curious, that's all. We don't really get any.. fresh meat around here."
Dog or a cannibalistic psycho, Jisung can't really tell the difference between the two best describing the freak in front of him.
"Right. Fresh meat. Of course," he deadpans.
He attempts to scoot his chair away from Seungmin as discreetly as possible, which is to say, pretty fucking loud.
The chair screeches and Jisung winces at the sound, accidentally making eye contact with Hyunjin shooting him a dirty look from under his book.
Chan is still nowhere to be concerned under all the typing on his laptop and songs blasting through his headphones. Jisung can hear the beats of Nayeons POP from his headphones all the way from over here.
Seungmin is still talking his ear off about some other mildly-concerning topic this time even though he isn't really listening, but beyond all that, Jisung is able to focus on one thing blaring at the back of his head.
Minho keeps staring at him.
Not even allowing a moment to blink to step between him and his staring.
It's not possible, Jisung knows that. Minho needs to blink or his tear ducts will dry up and that'll be pretty painful. But the heavy feeling remains all the same.
Whenever he looks up, Minho's focus is back on his papers. But Jisung knows that he's not crazy about what he's seeing.
He can feel his neck flush up from confusion at the unabashed attention, even if he has to pretend it's not there.
He also has to pretend he doesn't like it even if it's far from the truth.
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It's been about a week since Jisung's joined the literature club.
He didn't really have that much of a choice, Chan begging him to join because he loves and misses him so much and because he's the absolute best. Obviously.
Also because he promised him a week of anything he wants from their favourite cafe for free, and who is Jisung to refuse to that opportunity?
From what he can tell, the other members also easily agreed, which surprised Jisung. He wonders what strings Chan pulled to convince them so easily.
But ever since he's joined the literature club, Chan's been even busier than before, rarely being able to meet up anymore.
Jisung does see him occasionally, but always when he's knee-deep in another assignment on his laptop or a meeting with his classmates.
"You look tired hyung."
Since it was a Saturday, Jisung was in Chan's dorm room, curled up against the arm of the sofa and doom-scrolling his soul away. His roommate was nowhere to be seen. The dim lighting from the kitchen was kinda making him sleepy and he doesn't mind taking a nap from the cozy spot he's in.
The tiny Chan leaning against the sofa on the floor with his laptop in his lap was keeping Jisung awake though.
His eye bags were darkened due to the lack of sleep and amount of coffee he's been injecting into his veins lately, but somehow Chan didn't seem to be bothered by it all that much.
"I'm fine, Jisung-ah. Just need to finish this up and I'll hopefully head to bed soon," he slurs out, yawning. "I don't understand how I'm so behind work all of a sudden, it doesn't make any sense," he groans into his hands, rubbing the fatigue out of his face.
Jisung let's out a pitying coo, sliding next to the other and peering over his shoulder to look at the screen. He digs his hands into Chan's shoulder, feeling the tense muscles underneath his hands and massaging them gently.
"Still. I think you should take a break once in a while. This isn't healthy, and you know that it's concerning enough if it's coming from me."
Chan doesn't respond for a minute. He slumps back, his head resting on the sofa with a groan and his eyes closed, the only bright light in the room being from the monitor harbouring all the code he was testing as a CS major.
"I'll be fine." His breath threatens to even out, halfway off to dreamland already, "The grind never stops haha…"
Jisung let's out a half hearted chuckle that was more concern than humour. "The grind won't stop but your heart probably will. I'm serious, take a break Chan-ah. The lectures aren't going anywhere," he softly says.
Chan doesn't hear him. He's fallen asleep, mumbling something about the mitochondria being the powerhouse of the cell, or something.
Jisung wonders why he's speaking about science given his major, but he'll question about it when he's more lucid than he is right now.
Jisung drapes a blanket on Chan and leaves him be, curling back onto the sofa and drifting into a warm nap himself.
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