SSS 2010: for wishunew
For: wishunew
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Kiss With a Fist (Or a Metal Bat)
Pairing: Jonghyun/Onew
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3,550
Summary: Three guys in masks terrorize the students of a small town.
"We're going... to die."
Jinki picks himself up from the ground and immediately doubles over from the pain in his knee, which is probably scraped and swelling from his unfortunate meeting with the concrete if the throbbing is any indication. He tries to glare at Minho from beneath his bangs as spitefully as he can, but he doesn't even have the strength. His heart feels like it's trying to crack his ribs open and make a run for it, and the collar of his shirt is cold and damp with sweat. The dry winter air burns his lungs with each breath he draws in, makes them feel like they're cracking. He wipes his palms on his knees and runs his tongue over his lips. "That would be nice right now," he gasps.
Minho looks at him from where he's leaning against the brick wall of some small, obscure restaurant. His cheeks are red with the cold and exertion, and he has this look in his eyes that makes Jinki want to apologize, but.
Oh yeah, Jinki thinks. It was his idea to go this way in the first place, wasn't it?
So he doesn't say anything. Not that he could; he starts coughing and doesn't stop until his eyes are watering. Several minutes pass and the only thing they can hear is their own wheezing and blood rushing in their ears. When Minho finally manages to pull himself together enough to stand on his own, he pushes away from the wall and walks to the end of the alley, poking his head out into the open. Jinki watches, holding his breath until Minho takes a step back and he isn't snatched up or decapitated. Sighing, Jinki straightens his back.
He begins, "Is it okay to-"
"Hey, you kids get outta here!"
Both Minho and Jinki whip their heads around to find a man leaning out of a doorway that hadn't noticed earlier. There’s blood and dirt all over his apron and streaks of brown on his arms. A chill skitters up Jinki’s spine. He grabs his book bag off the ground where he had dropped it in his haste to shed weight, slings it over his shoulder, and brushes past Minho without a backwards glance.
By the time Jinki is only two blocks from their street, Minho is striding beside him again, breath coming in short, warm puffs. Jinki glances sidelong at him, and Minho tucks his chin to his chest; his way of saying sorry. Jinki cracks a labored smile. "It’s okay."
They continue the rest of the way to their apartment complex in silence, their pace barely slower than a run.
The next day, Jinki realizes that he and Minho had gotten lucky.
"Damn, Jino! What happened to your face?"
Extremely lucky.
The whole class is gathered around a single desk when Jinki walks in, and he's partially glad because his tardiness goes unnoticed. Then he manages to squeeze around the crowd and he catches a glance at the unlucky soul in question, and his heart slips into overdrive. The boy's face is at least five different colors from the bruises blooming on his skin, and his left eye is swollen shut. there are fiery red scrapes across his forehead and cheeks-probably from concrete, Jinki thinks as he rubs at his knee-and his face is like a billboard advertising the beat down they're all guaranteed if they're in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jinki takes a seat at an empty desk and watches with perspiration gathering on his palms. There is questioning and wild speculation, camera phones readily snapping pictures, and general ruckus. This must be the second part of the punishment, and Jinki’s beliefs are confirmed when everyone drifts away, having gotten their fill of gossip and drama, and the boy is left at his desk, looking utterly small and shaken. He puts his head down, and Jinki looks away. He’d say something, but all his mind can supply is better luck next time.
Halfway through the class, Jinki catches Minho staring at him, his corners of his mouth curled downward in pity. His eyes belie the attempt at his expression, however; Jinki knows, because he feels the same rush of relief.
Better him than us.
"They wear masks."
Jinki turns his head, and his spoon misses his mouth. Some of his cereal and milk sloshes onto his pants, and he looks down at his lap morosely. "What?" he asks, reaching for a napkin.
"It’s either to keep people from recognizing them or because they don't even have faces," Minho continues. "That’s what everyone says, anyway." he blinks like he's snapped out of a trance and his eyes refocus on Jinki. "You have milk on your face."
Jinki stops attending to the wet spot on his pants and wipes his face, but his breakfast is forgotten. "Who are you talking about?"
"You know, the guys." Minho leans back, and Jinki really wishes that he didn't suddenly understand Minho from only that vague answer. Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, and he looks restless. It makes the skin on Jinki’s neck and arms prickles.
A laugh slips from Jinki’s mouth, but it sounds forced and rings hollow in his own ears. "Oh. But you can't possibly think that they're not. Well. Human, right?"
Minho shrugs. Shakes his head. "They say they have bats, too. I wonder what kind," he says.
After several seconds of silence, Jinki stands and pushes his chair up to the table. Minho follows suit, and they grab their jackets and bags. For the whole walk to school, Jinki wonders when he started living in an urban legend.
Jinki catches Minho between classes at his locker. "Hey," he says. "Go straight home after practice. Don’t wait for me, I mean."
"Why?" Minho asks, shifting his bag on his shoulder.
"I have to start tutoring today. I don't know how long it'll take and it doesn't make sense for you to wait around for me." Minho narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to speak, but Jinki cuts him off swiftly. "Seriously, I’ll be fine. Besides, except for that one time nothing ever happens to us. Maybe we're just lucky." Jinki laughs a little. Minho doesn't look completely appeased, but he nods.
"Fine," he says stiffly. "But be careful. Go the long way if it's dark." Jinki salutes, and he smiles a little.
The guy he tutors is named Jonghyun and he's in the same grade as him, but Jinki has never seen him. He acts distant and almost arrogant the first few times they meet, but he eventually warms up to Jinki enough that every other word isn't specifically about math.
"So what do you like to do? When you're not like, helping dummies like me and stuff," Jonghyun asks. He's tired of doing homework; Jinki can tell from the way he tries to strike up a conversation about anything he can think of. But Jinki doesn't mind, because Jonghyun is nice enough and seems like a talker anyway. Besides, they've gotten pretty far.
Jinki flips through his textbook absently. "Oh, I don't know."
Jonghyun laughs and closes Jinki’s book. "You have to have a life other than school."
Jinki scratches the back of his head and laughs sheepishly. "Not... really. School kind of is my life right now."
"Well that's pretty boring," he says, frowning. Jinki feels his cheeks and ears begin to burn a little, so his looks down at his hands to hide his face.
"Well, what do you do?" he asks, eager to get himself out of the spotlight.
When he looks up, Jonghyun is leaning back so that his chair is on two legs and his fingers are laced together behind his head. He looks off to the side. "Nothing, really."
Jinki could ask how that's any better than him, but he doesn't. The other two legs of Jonghyun’s chair come down with a thump, and all of a sudden Jonghyun is very interested in one of his calculus equations.
Jinki learns a lot of things about Jonghyun. He learns that Jonghyun hates math but loves their literature and composition class. He learns that Jonghyun adores music and doesn't like most sports. But he also learns that Jonghyun’s life outside of class and tutoring sessions seems to be a blank stretch of time that Jinki can't figure out. It’s not polite to meddle, he knows, but he can't help but wonder. He tries to slip in subtle questions about it during their off-topic conversations, but to no avail.
He learns that Jonghyun is exceedingly good at switching the focus from himself.
The number of nights that Jinki walks home alone without any incident increases, and it sets both himself and Minho a little more at ease. Minho no longer calls at random intervals to make sure he's okay and Jinki no longer takes random routes to his family's apartment. He begins to take the short way home, and when nothing happens even then, he begins to feel almost confident.
The eleventh night is the end of his lucky streak.
As he passes the same corner stores and small shops that he's used to seeing, he notices the heavy silence that seems to stretch over the streets. He whistles to himself to fill the empty space until he hears another sound, one that's low and so faint that he thinks he's imagining it. He goes silent and strains his ears for it, but soon he doesn't have to. It gets louder and louder until he recognizes it as the sound of wheels on concrete.
"Wha-"
Two figures speed toward him, and he immediately shields his head with his arms, taking a couple steps back. They whip past him and down the alley, and when Jinki lowers his arms, they've turned around and stopped.
They’re both wearing white masks with eye holes as their only features, and they both have gleaming aluminum bats resting on their shoulders. Jinki almost screams with fright, but he comes to the quick conclusion that maybe if he just turns around and leaves now, he can still make it home in one piece. He attempts to move his feet so little as to be unnoticeable, but one of the two notices. He glides forward a short distance and brandishes his bat while the second one stays put, saying, "Don't move."
Against his better line of thinking, Jinki continues to move back, hoping that he'll get far enough that he can turn and break free.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Jinki twists his body around so fast that he almost falls over. Blocking his only exit is a third boy with curly hair and stick-thin arms. Jinki backs up again only to realize that if he goes too far, he'll be in the clutches of the other two. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head. "Nowhere. I’m not going anywhere."
"I don't like liars," the third one says, head cocked slightly. He has an easy way of drifting forward on his skates, like he's been doing this so long that it's become second nature to him. His limbs are loose, his grip on his bat relaxed, and it only makes Jinki more apprehensive because he can't read his moves. He rolls forward slowly until he's no more than several centimeters from Jinki and they're face-to-mask. Several seconds of intense stillness pass before he wraps a hand in the front of Jinki’s shirt and shoves him farther back into the alley. As if that shove were a catalyst, the other two spring to life, pushing Jinki back and forth like a plaything until a hand jerks him by the collar and slams him into a wall so hard that his head bounces off it and bursts of light overtake his vision. A liquid warmth fills his mouth, and he doesn't know if it's just spit or blood. The brick digs and scrapes at his skin as he attempts to wiggle free, and his lungs burn as the air is squeezed out of them.
"Aren’t you one unlucky bastard."
Unable to focus properly, his eyes dart back and forth wildly. The lack of air is already beginning to make him dizzy.
"I’ve seen you before. You and that Choi guy," the second one spits out. "You two are stupid for coming this way so often. And I guess you're just extra retarded for coming this way by yourself, but-"
"You talk too much, hyung." Straining to see out of the corner of his eyes, Jinki watches the one who threw him down the alley move closer. In direct counterpoint to the other, who has since drifted backwards and folded his arms in indignation, he doesn't say a word. It’s scarier than Jinki could've ever imagined. His careless grip on his bat changes into a grip with purpose, and Jinki is pressed even harder against the wall, the push so sudden that he bites his tongue. Cold aluminum taps the back of his head once. Twice.
Jinki pretends the tears in his eyes are just from the pain in his tongue.
The actual blow is so loud that it seems to split the air and oh, Jinki thinks, so this is what the splitting of my skull sounds like. And then his mind catches up with his body, and his head isn't a permanent stain on some back alley wall. It’s being jerked forward by strong fingers twisted into his hair, but it's safely attached to his shoulders nonetheless. He’s pushed out onto a pool of light on the sidewalk, and his legs threaten to give way beneath him. When he looks up, he's staring into the mask of the first one, the one who hadn't said a word the whole time. A stream of broken words and syllables tumble out of Jinki’s mouth, but they're all cut off with an urgent, "Go home."
Jinki hesitates, eyes wide, and he doesn't know if this is where he should thank him or not. Then he hears the telltale sound of rollerblade wheels and he's off like a shot, sprinting home full speed.
He doesn't tell Minho about his little run-in. the thing is, he isn't sure whether it's because he doesn't want Minho to be worried for him or for another reason entirely.
Jinki still tutors Jonghyun despite knowing that he has to walk home by himself. He wants to believe that he does it solely as a favor to a friend, but he begins to doubt his own reasoning.
while they're sitting at one of the library tables talking about their literature class one evening, the light from the florescent bulbs above glints off something in Jonghyun’s bag, which has been dropped off to the side and left open. Jonghyun’s voice fills Jinki’s ears, but his words blur together into one indistinct sound as Jinki glances between him and the bag. He shifts in seat and leans forward a little to get a better view, thinking Jonghyun is too busy talking about A Midsummer Night's Dream to notice. The only one not paying attention is Jinki, however; he doesn't hear how Jonghyun cuts himself off mid-sentence or see how his eyes follow Jinki’s line of sight.
"I like baseball."
Jinki looks up, visibly startled. Jonghyun smiles widely at him, which sets him partially at ease even though he knows it shouldn't.
"Oh. I see." he eyes the bat one more time before meeting Jonghyun’s smile with one of his own.
Jinki likes giving people the benefit of the doubt. He doesn't think Jonghyun is the type to make a hobby out of beating the crap out of local students, but he's been wrong about things like this before. And it doesn't help that Jonghyun bolts as soon as they're done for the day. Try as he might, he can't shake the suspicion that he feels whenever he sees Jonghyun even if he wants to believe that Jonghyun isn't the kind of person to don a mask and terrorize the city.
A cold hand grabs Jinki’s wrist and he nearly jumps out of his skin.
"Don’t walk home that way."
Jinki takes a look at Jonghyun’s face and makes a sound that's half laugh, half sigh. "You scared me. I thought this hall was empty."
It feels like they're the only living souls in the building. Today isn't one of their days to meet in the library, so Jinki is shocked that Jonghyun is still milling around long after the last bell has rung. But he simply takes it as one of those things that is.
Jonghyun frowns and furrows his brow. "Seriously. Don’t go home that way."
"What way?" Jinki asks quietly, with perfect knowledge of what Jonghyun is talking about. Jonghyun’s lips press together into a thin line and he lets go of Jinki’s wrist. With a flippant wave of his hand over his shoulder, he walks past Jinki and towards the exit. Jinki watches him until he's swallowed up by the light from outside, and then shuts his locker. The sound rings through the empty corridor, growing louder before tapering off into silence.
Jinki has never been good at listening to advice that was for his own good, but this time he feels like he has a good enough reason. What this reason is, he's not sure, but he's somehow okay with putting his safety on the line to figure it out.
He’s only five minutes away from the school before the sound of rolling wheels reaches him from the distance. His steps quicken into a run until he realizes he'll never make it home that way, so he slows to a walk. As if on cue, the two boys from the other night appear, one facing him from the front and the other off to the side, and Jinki thinks that this is suddenly not such a great idea. Unlike the last time, they don't bother with any small talk. The younger one with the curly hair rushes forward and rams a bony shoulder into Jinki’s chest, digging his elbow into Jinki’s stomach and sending him flying backwards. Jinki feels all his air leave him in one pained gasp as he's knocked into a wall and he swings an arm blindly. His fist connects with the flimsy plastic of the boy's mask. It shocks the other enough to make him stumble away, but before Jinki can peel himself from the wall, the second boy rams a fist into the right side of his head. Pain sears across his skull, but he continues to swing weakly. Then his arms are grabbed and pinned to his sides, the boy in front of him sliding in and out of focus.
"You’re a fucking idiot," he whispers venomously. He shakes his head and draws back a fist; Jinki braces himself and closes his eyes. A beat passes and he opens them, but there's no one to be seen.
"Kibum, Taemin! I told you two, we need to stop this!"
He steadies himself and looks around. Down the sidewalk there are three boys fighting in a mess of swinging arms, and Jinki recognizes one of them as Jonghyun, even with his mask on. A cough rattles through Jinki’s chest and he watches for several seconds before turning around and heading home. Jonghyun can handle it, he thinks through the confusion.
But by the time he gets to his street, doubt has set into all his limbs and the pain in his head has subdued to a slight throb. He immediately turns around and jogs back as quickly as he can, but when he gets there, the sidewalk is empty.
There’s a purple and yellow bruise spread high over his cheek, but no one says a thing about it. He gets looks, but no one questions him if only because Minho narrows his eyes at anyone and everyone who stares too long.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Minho asks when their first class is over.
Jinki nods and smiles. "Yeah, of course." and Minho doesn't look like he quite believes him, but he gives Jinki a reassuring pat on the shoulder and goes to his next class anyway.
He sees Jonghyun in the hallway. As expected, his face is bruised and red with scratches. His bottom lip is busted and slightly swollen, but he still offers a grin in passing. Jinki smiles, too, and it remains on his lips well into his next class.
(After sitting down, he notices two boys that he had never paid attention to before. One has high cheekbones, dark eyes, and sleek brown hair. The other has a slightly childish face with a head of curly, light-colored hair. Both their faces are as battered as Jonghyun’s, and the knuckles of their hands are busted. They notice him too, but neither says a word.)
When their first tutoring session after the big fight ends, Jonghyun walks with Jinki home for once. Their steps are a lot slower than what Jinki’s used to, and it's a nice change. Jonghyun tugs Jinki’s hand and smiles, wincing at the effort but still managing to hold it intact.
"So, you wanna learn how to roller-skate?"
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Kiss With a Fist (Or a Metal Bat)
Pairing: Jonghyun/Onew
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 3,550
Summary: Three guys in masks terrorize the students of a small town.
"We're going... to die."
Jinki picks himself up from the ground and immediately doubles over from the pain in his knee, which is probably scraped and swelling from his unfortunate meeting with the concrete if the throbbing is any indication. He tries to glare at Minho from beneath his bangs as spitefully as he can, but he doesn't even have the strength. His heart feels like it's trying to crack his ribs open and make a run for it, and the collar of his shirt is cold and damp with sweat. The dry winter air burns his lungs with each breath he draws in, makes them feel like they're cracking. He wipes his palms on his knees and runs his tongue over his lips. "That would be nice right now," he gasps.
Minho looks at him from where he's leaning against the brick wall of some small, obscure restaurant. His cheeks are red with the cold and exertion, and he has this look in his eyes that makes Jinki want to apologize, but.
Oh yeah, Jinki thinks. It was his idea to go this way in the first place, wasn't it?
So he doesn't say anything. Not that he could; he starts coughing and doesn't stop until his eyes are watering. Several minutes pass and the only thing they can hear is their own wheezing and blood rushing in their ears. When Minho finally manages to pull himself together enough to stand on his own, he pushes away from the wall and walks to the end of the alley, poking his head out into the open. Jinki watches, holding his breath until Minho takes a step back and he isn't snatched up or decapitated. Sighing, Jinki straightens his back.
He begins, "Is it okay to-"
"Hey, you kids get outta here!"
Both Minho and Jinki whip their heads around to find a man leaning out of a doorway that hadn't noticed earlier. There’s blood and dirt all over his apron and streaks of brown on his arms. A chill skitters up Jinki’s spine. He grabs his book bag off the ground where he had dropped it in his haste to shed weight, slings it over his shoulder, and brushes past Minho without a backwards glance.
By the time Jinki is only two blocks from their street, Minho is striding beside him again, breath coming in short, warm puffs. Jinki glances sidelong at him, and Minho tucks his chin to his chest; his way of saying sorry. Jinki cracks a labored smile. "It’s okay."
They continue the rest of the way to their apartment complex in silence, their pace barely slower than a run.
The next day, Jinki realizes that he and Minho had gotten lucky.
"Damn, Jino! What happened to your face?"
Extremely lucky.
The whole class is gathered around a single desk when Jinki walks in, and he's partially glad because his tardiness goes unnoticed. Then he manages to squeeze around the crowd and he catches a glance at the unlucky soul in question, and his heart slips into overdrive. The boy's face is at least five different colors from the bruises blooming on his skin, and his left eye is swollen shut. there are fiery red scrapes across his forehead and cheeks-probably from concrete, Jinki thinks as he rubs at his knee-and his face is like a billboard advertising the beat down they're all guaranteed if they're in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jinki takes a seat at an empty desk and watches with perspiration gathering on his palms. There is questioning and wild speculation, camera phones readily snapping pictures, and general ruckus. This must be the second part of the punishment, and Jinki’s beliefs are confirmed when everyone drifts away, having gotten their fill of gossip and drama, and the boy is left at his desk, looking utterly small and shaken. He puts his head down, and Jinki looks away. He’d say something, but all his mind can supply is better luck next time.
Halfway through the class, Jinki catches Minho staring at him, his corners of his mouth curled downward in pity. His eyes belie the attempt at his expression, however; Jinki knows, because he feels the same rush of relief.
Better him than us.
"They wear masks."
Jinki turns his head, and his spoon misses his mouth. Some of his cereal and milk sloshes onto his pants, and he looks down at his lap morosely. "What?" he asks, reaching for a napkin.
"It’s either to keep people from recognizing them or because they don't even have faces," Minho continues. "That’s what everyone says, anyway." he blinks like he's snapped out of a trance and his eyes refocus on Jinki. "You have milk on your face."
Jinki stops attending to the wet spot on his pants and wipes his face, but his breakfast is forgotten. "Who are you talking about?"
"You know, the guys." Minho leans back, and Jinki really wishes that he didn't suddenly understand Minho from only that vague answer. Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, and he looks restless. It makes the skin on Jinki’s neck and arms prickles.
A laugh slips from Jinki’s mouth, but it sounds forced and rings hollow in his own ears. "Oh. But you can't possibly think that they're not. Well. Human, right?"
Minho shrugs. Shakes his head. "They say they have bats, too. I wonder what kind," he says.
After several seconds of silence, Jinki stands and pushes his chair up to the table. Minho follows suit, and they grab their jackets and bags. For the whole walk to school, Jinki wonders when he started living in an urban legend.
Jinki catches Minho between classes at his locker. "Hey," he says. "Go straight home after practice. Don’t wait for me, I mean."
"Why?" Minho asks, shifting his bag on his shoulder.
"I have to start tutoring today. I don't know how long it'll take and it doesn't make sense for you to wait around for me." Minho narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to speak, but Jinki cuts him off swiftly. "Seriously, I’ll be fine. Besides, except for that one time nothing ever happens to us. Maybe we're just lucky." Jinki laughs a little. Minho doesn't look completely appeased, but he nods.
"Fine," he says stiffly. "But be careful. Go the long way if it's dark." Jinki salutes, and he smiles a little.
The guy he tutors is named Jonghyun and he's in the same grade as him, but Jinki has never seen him. He acts distant and almost arrogant the first few times they meet, but he eventually warms up to Jinki enough that every other word isn't specifically about math.
"So what do you like to do? When you're not like, helping dummies like me and stuff," Jonghyun asks. He's tired of doing homework; Jinki can tell from the way he tries to strike up a conversation about anything he can think of. But Jinki doesn't mind, because Jonghyun is nice enough and seems like a talker anyway. Besides, they've gotten pretty far.
Jinki flips through his textbook absently. "Oh, I don't know."
Jonghyun laughs and closes Jinki’s book. "You have to have a life other than school."
Jinki scratches the back of his head and laughs sheepishly. "Not... really. School kind of is my life right now."
"Well that's pretty boring," he says, frowning. Jinki feels his cheeks and ears begin to burn a little, so his looks down at his hands to hide his face.
"Well, what do you do?" he asks, eager to get himself out of the spotlight.
When he looks up, Jonghyun is leaning back so that his chair is on two legs and his fingers are laced together behind his head. He looks off to the side. "Nothing, really."
Jinki could ask how that's any better than him, but he doesn't. The other two legs of Jonghyun’s chair come down with a thump, and all of a sudden Jonghyun is very interested in one of his calculus equations.
Jinki learns a lot of things about Jonghyun. He learns that Jonghyun hates math but loves their literature and composition class. He learns that Jonghyun adores music and doesn't like most sports. But he also learns that Jonghyun’s life outside of class and tutoring sessions seems to be a blank stretch of time that Jinki can't figure out. It’s not polite to meddle, he knows, but he can't help but wonder. He tries to slip in subtle questions about it during their off-topic conversations, but to no avail.
He learns that Jonghyun is exceedingly good at switching the focus from himself.
The number of nights that Jinki walks home alone without any incident increases, and it sets both himself and Minho a little more at ease. Minho no longer calls at random intervals to make sure he's okay and Jinki no longer takes random routes to his family's apartment. He begins to take the short way home, and when nothing happens even then, he begins to feel almost confident.
The eleventh night is the end of his lucky streak.
As he passes the same corner stores and small shops that he's used to seeing, he notices the heavy silence that seems to stretch over the streets. He whistles to himself to fill the empty space until he hears another sound, one that's low and so faint that he thinks he's imagining it. He goes silent and strains his ears for it, but soon he doesn't have to. It gets louder and louder until he recognizes it as the sound of wheels on concrete.
"Wha-"
Two figures speed toward him, and he immediately shields his head with his arms, taking a couple steps back. They whip past him and down the alley, and when Jinki lowers his arms, they've turned around and stopped.
They’re both wearing white masks with eye holes as their only features, and they both have gleaming aluminum bats resting on their shoulders. Jinki almost screams with fright, but he comes to the quick conclusion that maybe if he just turns around and leaves now, he can still make it home in one piece. He attempts to move his feet so little as to be unnoticeable, but one of the two notices. He glides forward a short distance and brandishes his bat while the second one stays put, saying, "Don't move."
Against his better line of thinking, Jinki continues to move back, hoping that he'll get far enough that he can turn and break free.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Jinki twists his body around so fast that he almost falls over. Blocking his only exit is a third boy with curly hair and stick-thin arms. Jinki backs up again only to realize that if he goes too far, he'll be in the clutches of the other two. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head. "Nowhere. I’m not going anywhere."
"I don't like liars," the third one says, head cocked slightly. He has an easy way of drifting forward on his skates, like he's been doing this so long that it's become second nature to him. His limbs are loose, his grip on his bat relaxed, and it only makes Jinki more apprehensive because he can't read his moves. He rolls forward slowly until he's no more than several centimeters from Jinki and they're face-to-mask. Several seconds of intense stillness pass before he wraps a hand in the front of Jinki’s shirt and shoves him farther back into the alley. As if that shove were a catalyst, the other two spring to life, pushing Jinki back and forth like a plaything until a hand jerks him by the collar and slams him into a wall so hard that his head bounces off it and bursts of light overtake his vision. A liquid warmth fills his mouth, and he doesn't know if it's just spit or blood. The brick digs and scrapes at his skin as he attempts to wiggle free, and his lungs burn as the air is squeezed out of them.
"Aren’t you one unlucky bastard."
Unable to focus properly, his eyes dart back and forth wildly. The lack of air is already beginning to make him dizzy.
"I’ve seen you before. You and that Choi guy," the second one spits out. "You two are stupid for coming this way so often. And I guess you're just extra retarded for coming this way by yourself, but-"
"You talk too much, hyung." Straining to see out of the corner of his eyes, Jinki watches the one who threw him down the alley move closer. In direct counterpoint to the other, who has since drifted backwards and folded his arms in indignation, he doesn't say a word. It’s scarier than Jinki could've ever imagined. His careless grip on his bat changes into a grip with purpose, and Jinki is pressed even harder against the wall, the push so sudden that he bites his tongue. Cold aluminum taps the back of his head once. Twice.
Jinki pretends the tears in his eyes are just from the pain in his tongue.
The actual blow is so loud that it seems to split the air and oh, Jinki thinks, so this is what the splitting of my skull sounds like. And then his mind catches up with his body, and his head isn't a permanent stain on some back alley wall. It’s being jerked forward by strong fingers twisted into his hair, but it's safely attached to his shoulders nonetheless. He’s pushed out onto a pool of light on the sidewalk, and his legs threaten to give way beneath him. When he looks up, he's staring into the mask of the first one, the one who hadn't said a word the whole time. A stream of broken words and syllables tumble out of Jinki’s mouth, but they're all cut off with an urgent, "Go home."
Jinki hesitates, eyes wide, and he doesn't know if this is where he should thank him or not. Then he hears the telltale sound of rollerblade wheels and he's off like a shot, sprinting home full speed.
He doesn't tell Minho about his little run-in. the thing is, he isn't sure whether it's because he doesn't want Minho to be worried for him or for another reason entirely.
Jinki still tutors Jonghyun despite knowing that he has to walk home by himself. He wants to believe that he does it solely as a favor to a friend, but he begins to doubt his own reasoning.
while they're sitting at one of the library tables talking about their literature class one evening, the light from the florescent bulbs above glints off something in Jonghyun’s bag, which has been dropped off to the side and left open. Jonghyun’s voice fills Jinki’s ears, but his words blur together into one indistinct sound as Jinki glances between him and the bag. He shifts in seat and leans forward a little to get a better view, thinking Jonghyun is too busy talking about A Midsummer Night's Dream to notice. The only one not paying attention is Jinki, however; he doesn't hear how Jonghyun cuts himself off mid-sentence or see how his eyes follow Jinki’s line of sight.
"I like baseball."
Jinki looks up, visibly startled. Jonghyun smiles widely at him, which sets him partially at ease even though he knows it shouldn't.
"Oh. I see." he eyes the bat one more time before meeting Jonghyun’s smile with one of his own.
Jinki likes giving people the benefit of the doubt. He doesn't think Jonghyun is the type to make a hobby out of beating the crap out of local students, but he's been wrong about things like this before. And it doesn't help that Jonghyun bolts as soon as they're done for the day. Try as he might, he can't shake the suspicion that he feels whenever he sees Jonghyun even if he wants to believe that Jonghyun isn't the kind of person to don a mask and terrorize the city.
A cold hand grabs Jinki’s wrist and he nearly jumps out of his skin.
"Don’t walk home that way."
Jinki takes a look at Jonghyun’s face and makes a sound that's half laugh, half sigh. "You scared me. I thought this hall was empty."
It feels like they're the only living souls in the building. Today isn't one of their days to meet in the library, so Jinki is shocked that Jonghyun is still milling around long after the last bell has rung. But he simply takes it as one of those things that is.
Jonghyun frowns and furrows his brow. "Seriously. Don’t go home that way."
"What way?" Jinki asks quietly, with perfect knowledge of what Jonghyun is talking about. Jonghyun’s lips press together into a thin line and he lets go of Jinki’s wrist. With a flippant wave of his hand over his shoulder, he walks past Jinki and towards the exit. Jinki watches him until he's swallowed up by the light from outside, and then shuts his locker. The sound rings through the empty corridor, growing louder before tapering off into silence.
Jinki has never been good at listening to advice that was for his own good, but this time he feels like he has a good enough reason. What this reason is, he's not sure, but he's somehow okay with putting his safety on the line to figure it out.
He’s only five minutes away from the school before the sound of rolling wheels reaches him from the distance. His steps quicken into a run until he realizes he'll never make it home that way, so he slows to a walk. As if on cue, the two boys from the other night appear, one facing him from the front and the other off to the side, and Jinki thinks that this is suddenly not such a great idea. Unlike the last time, they don't bother with any small talk. The younger one with the curly hair rushes forward and rams a bony shoulder into Jinki’s chest, digging his elbow into Jinki’s stomach and sending him flying backwards. Jinki feels all his air leave him in one pained gasp as he's knocked into a wall and he swings an arm blindly. His fist connects with the flimsy plastic of the boy's mask. It shocks the other enough to make him stumble away, but before Jinki can peel himself from the wall, the second boy rams a fist into the right side of his head. Pain sears across his skull, but he continues to swing weakly. Then his arms are grabbed and pinned to his sides, the boy in front of him sliding in and out of focus.
"You’re a fucking idiot," he whispers venomously. He shakes his head and draws back a fist; Jinki braces himself and closes his eyes. A beat passes and he opens them, but there's no one to be seen.
"Kibum, Taemin! I told you two, we need to stop this!"
He steadies himself and looks around. Down the sidewalk there are three boys fighting in a mess of swinging arms, and Jinki recognizes one of them as Jonghyun, even with his mask on. A cough rattles through Jinki’s chest and he watches for several seconds before turning around and heading home. Jonghyun can handle it, he thinks through the confusion.
But by the time he gets to his street, doubt has set into all his limbs and the pain in his head has subdued to a slight throb. He immediately turns around and jogs back as quickly as he can, but when he gets there, the sidewalk is empty.
There’s a purple and yellow bruise spread high over his cheek, but no one says a thing about it. He gets looks, but no one questions him if only because Minho narrows his eyes at anyone and everyone who stares too long.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Minho asks when their first class is over.
Jinki nods and smiles. "Yeah, of course." and Minho doesn't look like he quite believes him, but he gives Jinki a reassuring pat on the shoulder and goes to his next class anyway.
He sees Jonghyun in the hallway. As expected, his face is bruised and red with scratches. His bottom lip is busted and slightly swollen, but he still offers a grin in passing. Jinki smiles, too, and it remains on his lips well into his next class.
(After sitting down, he notices two boys that he had never paid attention to before. One has high cheekbones, dark eyes, and sleek brown hair. The other has a slightly childish face with a head of curly, light-colored hair. Both their faces are as battered as Jonghyun’s, and the knuckles of their hands are busted. They notice him too, but neither says a word.)
When their first tutoring session after the big fight ends, Jonghyun walks with Jinki home for once. Their steps are a lot slower than what Jinki’s used to, and it's a nice change. Jonghyun tugs Jinki’s hand and smiles, wincing at the effort but still managing to hold it intact.
"So, you wanna learn how to roller-skate?"