valentine's day is for losers
Title: valentine's day is for losers and couples
Pairing: Taeil/Jihoon
Group: Block B
Rating: PG SO PG IT HURTS
Notes: I JSUT LOST ALL OF MY FORMATTING IM SO MAD OMG WHY LJ WHY uh i started this early and yet im still late whoooooops
Summary: hs!AU This is a joke, but Jihoon isn't laughing.
There's a pale blue envelope taped to the inside of Jihoon's locker.
Voices chatter behind him, cries of lunch requests by the lazy ones in his class to their friends who are going to brave the rush of the cafeteria, boys cracking loud jokes, the scrape of chairs and desks across the linoleum, but there's a buzzing growing in Jihoon's ears that's starting to block it all out. The rest of the classroom seems distant now, though just a second ago he was in the middle of something-- something he can't quite remember.
He reaches out and traces over the edge of the paper with his fingertips, heart thrumming heavily through his ears and filling up his skin like a bass beat. But instead of the heady rush he always gets off music, he feels like he's going to be sick all over the floor, empty stomach clenching and roiling queasily. He takes a deep breath, ashamed when it catches on the lump at the base of his throat and he has to take another just to feel steady. With three long fingers, he reaches for the corner of the envelope.
The tape snaps off from the locker door and he flips the paper delicately, holding onto its edges as if he's not quite sure what it is. Across the front of the envelope is 'Pyo Jihoon' scrawled in messy handwriting. The nieun is squashed up under the vowel and the Pyo just a mess of scratchy lines that could be some deformed hanja character. He wants to laugh it off, stave off the hurt catching at his throat, but the pressure is rising in his chest and he can't breathe.
'No girl could write like this,' he thinks, trying to keep calm, as if it hasn't been obvious from the beginning that it couldn't be from a girl. He goes to an all-boys school, for one. No girl could get five feet past the front gate without rumors abounding, every guy in school suddenly aware of her presence and watching with hawk-like eyes where she went, who she talked to, who she smiled at.
Therefore, it must be a joke.
Jihoon wonders where his friends are, if they're behind him and waiting for him to turn around and laugh, so he tries to put on a disaffected face. He can do this-- he's the joker, the personality behind the class and he's never taken anything too seriously. He was named Mood Maker in his homeroom in his first year of middle school, and it's been impossible to shake the role since. He never minded it up till now, when he'd do anything to find an empty corner where he could curl up, put his face into his scarf, and be alone.
A little smile curls at the edges of his lips, but it's an effort. Nothing gives away the painful beat of his heart, the aching thump-thump, but a slight tremor in his fingers.
The envelope's seal breaks easily and inside is a matching piece of blue, lined paper. It looks a little like the paper of the composition notebooks Jiho frequently uses, even if the side is cut a little wobbly with a pair of scissors to get rid of the ripped edge. They obviously tried hard to make it look real. Every instance of his friends' presence on the envelope is another tiny dig into his heart, dragging it slowly, inexorably towards his feet.
Jihoon's face is heating up the way it always does before he starts to cry, so he presses his lips together tightly and begins to read.
Pyo Jihoon,
I have something important to tell you today. Can you come meet me in the science room at 4PM?
There's only an unreadable scrawl at the bottom, a mess of black lines that he can't begin to decipher, but he doesn't need to. It's his friends' writing and his friends' envelope and his friends' joke and he should laugh it off with them, but he can't. He doesn't even want to. Tears are starting to prick at the corners of his eyes and he looks up at the ceiling, trying hard not to blink so they won't fall.
The facts are clear to him. He's 16, never had a girlfriend, overweight, with a frizzy perm he's had for the past six months because he doesn't have the funds to get rid of it. And he might well be gay, though the thought is so terrifying he can barely consider it in his mind, let alone admit to someone else. He's aware he looks stupid, and he probably acts like it, too. Honestly, he's never held out much hope for a crush or a letter of confession. But none of these things have stopped him from wanting to be in love, sometimes so badly it feels like a physical ache in his bones or a vise around his throat, and this letter just seems so unimaginably cruel. The first thing he's gotten that is so close to what he wants, and it's a joke.
He wants to laugh, knowing that his friends are going to see his upset face when he turns around, but he can't, not today.
It's Valentine's Day.
It's already painful enough with red, heart-shaped boxes of candies everywhere and couples clogging up the streets and restaurants. They all smile at each other, hands intertwined, and he wants to push them apart roughly, wants to yell and ask why they're taking up all the love in the world, and can't they spare some for him, just once? Why are they so greedy? But perhaps he's the greedy one, asking for something he doesn't deserve.
With considerable effort, he keeps down his tears and stuffs the letter back in the envelope. Something is rising with the hurt in his chest and throat, some sort of misplaced anger, and before he realizes what he's doing, he's crumpled up the letter into a tight ball in his hand, edges digging into his palm. He wants to throw it in the wastebasket, or maybe directly into the incinerator as if the destruction could do something to stem the anger rising in his heart, but something stops him up. Maybe later he'll have the heart to laugh about it, so he simply chucks it into the back of his locker instead and slams the door shut.
Something in his chest still feels tremulous, like he's teetering on the bare edge between anger and hurt and he wants neither like a knife in his chest. With a quick hand, he rubs over his face and into his hair, hoping to focus himself. But his hand gets stuck in the curls and the crown of his head stings as he pulls his fingers free. Frustration starts to crawl over his skin.
Someone slaps him hard on the shoulder, unbalancing him so suddenly he slams his knee into the lockers. With a slight cry of pain, he turns and looks over his shoulder, hands curled around his throbbing knee.
"Anything good, Jihoonie?"
It's Yukwon quiet voice, and his slight smile that towers over Jihoon, hands tucked into his pockets now. He's had a girlfriend for 3 years already and she's his first love and gorgeous and sweet and Jihoon feels his heart break slightly because she makes Yukwon so happy. Why'd it have to be him making the joke?
Jihoon grimaces, transferring his hands from his knee to his stomach, clutching at it like he's going to be ill. Maybe he is. He might prefer it.
"I don't feel well. I need to go home," Jihoon mumbles, ignoring the pain in his knee and in his stomach and at the base of his skull as he clambers to his feet. Yukwon starts to say something, but Jihoon can't listen to his explanation right now and brushes past. None of his other friends are behind Yukwon, or even in the room.
Jihoon doesn't understand this joke at all.
The nurse takes one look at his pale face and sends him home, promising to inform his homeroom teacher and patting his face with one cool, soft hand. She smiles at him and the sympathy on her wrinkled face just makes him feel worse.
There are hardly any couples out on the buses at this time, for which he's grateful. He lets the comforting hum of the bus' engine lull him into a false sense of security. Leaning up against the window, he feels like the rest of the world is cut off from him and for once, he's grateful for it. By the time he gets home, he's no longer sad or sick, only exhausted. He sheds his jacket and his shoes and falls onto his bed. With the last of his energy, he grabs his pillow and drags it to his chest, curling up around it. He very determinedly does not cry before he falls into a heavy sleep.
He sleeps through 4PM and the rest of Valentines Day, waking up at 2AM to groggily eat shrimp chips in bed and watch reruns of variety shows. In his chest, near his heart, that perpetual ache remains, somewhat deepened by the events of the day. It'll fade, though. It always does.
--
Jiho is the one who slides in next to him the next morning before classes start, though he's a year up from Jihoon and has a tendency not to show up to school before 10AM. Jihoon is still so tired from his odd sleep schedule that he doesn't immediately connect Jiho's appearance with anything other than the bi-weekly attempt of his hyung to corral him into a noraebang session.
"So," Jiho says, dragging out the word and his nasally voice is kind of annoying so early in the morning. Jihoon really does need to finish this math homework before class begins, and he doesn't have time for this. "How was Valentine's?" Jiho asks, and at the mention Jihoon immediately tenses, hand stilling over his problem sheets. Jiho leans closer. "Got anything good?"
He's bent over his work, so he has a moment to collect himself, but he's aware of Jiho's sharp gaze over his profile. Briefly, he wonders what would happen if he told Jiho his joke wasn't funny, at all. He manages to chuckle a little, though, even as his chest is drawing tight over his breath.
"That was really good, Jiho-hyung," he says, barely able to look at Jiho's expectant face before heat starts to prickle over his neck and he has to turn back to his paper.
Something drops in Jiho's expression and he turns more fully towards Jihoon. He can hear the chair scrape across the floor, loud, and wonders where Mino is, why he's not coming in and shoving Jiho playfully out of his chair and saving Jihoon from this uncomfortable conversation.
"Wha--" Jiho starts, but Jihoon cuts across him in a loud voice.
"Really funny!" He's determined to take this in stride. The pain in his chest is less than it was yesterday, just a bare pressure only over his heart, but every second it grows stronger. He wonders how long it will take to suffocate him today. "So realistic. You almost got me." He shakes a finger jokingly in Jiho's direction, glad of his level voice.
"Jihoonie--"
"So good," he says, lips still straining at a smile and eyes scrunched up like he's going to laugh. What is rising up to his face is probably closer to tears, though. "But your handwriting is really bad, hyung, really bad. Not at all like a girl's. You should have gotten Minhyukkie-hyung to write it instead, and maybe I would have been fooled for a little bit longer."
Jiho makes a disgruntled sound, and Jihoon wonders if he's managed to insult him. Good, he thinks vindictively, but is immediately ashamed. It's not really Jiho's fault he managed to hit such a tender spot in Jihoon's heart. Even his closest friends couldn't admit to knowing about his longing for love, even the barest, remotest possibility for it, and he's not sure whether that's sad or the way he actually wants it.
Maybe it's easier this way. He'll just laugh off jokes about girlfriends, love, until he eventually grows old and dies, alone as ever. Or surrounded by empty ramen containers and possibly hugging his dog. He's not sure if the image makes him want to laugh or cry.
He looks back down at his papers, trying to read them, but though they're in plain black-and-white hangul, everything is starting to blur in front of his eyes. With one nail, he scratches at the side of his face until it hurts, aware that he can't touch his eyes. Not while Jiho is still staring at him so pointedly, no laughter on his lips or explanation of the joke.
Maybe Jiho does understand, after all. Jihoon sort of wishes he didn't; the possibility of vulnerability makes his next words louder, barely even joking anymore. It's almost a plea.
"You'd better get back to your own classroom before Mr. Lee finds you here again. He'll be mad you're riling up the underclassmen," Jihoon chastises, aware of his racing heart and Jiho's overwhelming silence. Why won't Jiho just leave?
Jiho reaches over and grabs at Jihoon's hand, wrapping his long fingers tightly over it. Jihoon's heart surges up his throat and this is kind of a pathetic attempt at comfort, but in a room full of teenaged boys, perhaps its the best Jiho can realistically offer. If Jiho tried to hug him, Jihoon might have to punch him in the stomach or something, and he doesn't really feel up for it.
Jiho doesn't say anything for a moment, as if he's trying to conjure up some comforting words that have never come easily to him. Tension curls in Jihoon's stomach, that slight sense that something is wrong and he can't put a finger on why, just knows.
And then Mr. Lee takes that moment to appear in the doorway, sheaf of papers pressed to his side and mere presence enough to quieten down the guys.
"Woo Jiho!" he yells, voice booming in the tiny room. Jiho jerks back, and the tension in Jihoon's stomach snaps in an abrupt moment that makes him feel slightly disoriented. Before Jiho can be properly chastised, he lurches from the chair and runs for the door, laughing even when Mr. Lee picks up a chalkboard eraser and throws it uselessly at his back, threatening him with extra homework if he's seen anywhere near the first years rooms again.
Jihoon manages to cough up a real laugh at that, and afterwards the tears are easy to swallow back down.
--
He gets a series of texts between periods, while the teachers change out. The possibility that they might be weird attempts at comfort make him ignore them until his phone buzzes again and falls off the edge of his desk. Thankfully, Jiho's texting is largely innocuous, until he gets to the final messages.
Jiho: are u free after school?
Jiho: say yes
Jiho: jihoonieeee tell me
Jiho: ok u rent responding but i no ur free
Jihoon: I'm trying to learn.
But maybe responding is just encouraging Jiho, as Jihoon's phone suffers from a mini freak out under a deluge of responses.
Jiho: haha
Jiho: ok fine learn u smartypants
Jiho: but meet me after school
Mino looks up from where he's trying to nap on his desk, frowning sleepily at Jihoon.
"Be quiet," he mutters, batting in Jihoon's general direction. Jihoon smiles a little. At least Mino has asked nothing about Valentine's Day, or about the letter that's still crumpled up in the back of his locker.
Jihoon: Why?
Jiho responds almost immediately, and Jihoon barely has enough time to check the screen before their math teacher comes in and everyone is forced to look up and lively.
Jiho: mystery. just meet me in the a/v room at 330
Jiho: dont skive or ill cut u
Jihoon laughs quietly. Jiho threatens a lot, does little, but it's somehow charming. He hopes it has absolutely nothing to do with comforting him, though the mention of a 'mystery' is not comforting. Jiho isn't known for his good surprises.
--
He thinks the A/V room is empty when he charges in at 3:37, having forgot he was supposed to meet Jiho when he was almost to the bus stop, and had to turn and run back towards school in order not to be late. It's useless, though, since Jiho obviously isn't there (Jiho makes a lot of noise when he's not concentrating on his work, so he's easy to spot).
Jihoon sticks his head back out the door and looks down the emptying hallway, but Jiho is nowhere to be seen. Jihoon frowns, something niggling at the back of his mind but he can't seem to bring it to the forefront. Something about meetings, but his annoyance at Jiho blocks it out.
Tsking, he turns back inside, sliding the door quietly shut behind him. When he looks up, there's an upperclassman sitting in a swivel chair half-turned towards him. A computer screen is live behind him, the familiar backdrop of StudioPro mixing software up and running. There's a thick set of headphones around the upperclassman's neck, and Jihoon should be able to recognize him from the A/V Club, since he's practically a part of it, considering how often Jiho drags him here, but the guy doesn't seem to recognize him.
He does seem strangely familiar to Jihoon, though, and he can't place why.
The guy stares at him, blank-faced and his mouth a little bit open, for a long moment before Jihoon realizes he's standing in the doorway like an idiot and just staring back.
He puts on his best smile, though he feels unexpectedly a little shy, and walks closer. "Hi, uh, sorry for bothering you. I'm Pyo Jihoon, first year," he says, and that seems to snap the upperclassman out of his daze.
He shuts his mouth and a smile curls at the edges of his lips. Jihoon can't help but think he's a little bit cute. "Hi, I'm Lee Taeil, senior," he says, and it's his voice that does it.
Of course, Jihoon thinks as his memory starts snapping places and people together. It's Lee Taeil, the senior with the amazing voice who was chosen to sing the school song and national anthem at the opening ceremony for new students. The memory makes him smile, because Taeil was so tiny up on stage, shifting and a little bit awkward on his feet before they'd handed him the microphone.
Jihoon hadn't really been paying attention most of the ceremony, and as the music started up he had even started to list slightly to the side, tired from playing video games all night and not really in the mood to hear yet another mediocre version of the same song.
But Taeil had started singing, voice low but sweet somehow, the strength of it a little bit out of proportion with his body. And the more he sang, the less he seemed focused on the people watching him and a strange sense of confidence, or maybe it was just good showmanship, filled him and he let off the last notes as if his whole body were made for this, made to make this music.
Jihoon hadn't even realized he'd sat bolt upright in his chair, whole body strung tight as he stared after Taeil as he left the stage, bowing in short little bursts at the slight outburst of applause.
"Are you okay?" Mino had asked, hand on his shoulder snapping Jihoon out of his daze.
"Who was that?" Jihoon asked, aware of his heartbeat slamming in his chest, though the national anthem had never inspired patriotism or anything even close.
Mino raised his eyebrows at him, but smiled indulgently. "Lee... something? I think. A senior, or something. I wasn't really listening." When Jihoon didn't say anything, rolling the information around in his head and cursing his exhaustion for not catching the guy's name, Mino had squeezed his shoulder again. "Why do you want to know?"
"Nothing, no reason," Jihoon had said, shaking his head. Soon after the ceremony he had forgotten the whole ordeal, and he never saw Taeil around the school, so it was easy to forget.
But here he is, in front of Jihoon again. Jihoon can't think of anything to say that won't sound oddly out of place, like, 'I saw you perform 4 months ago and I wanted to find you afterwards to ask you about your voice,' without sounding obsessed.
A blush starts to form over his cheeks and down his neck, and Taeil is just staring up at him for an explanation. Jihoon's heart is starting to kick up a little bit like it did when Taeil sang.
"Oh, uh, what are you doing?" Jihoon asks, waving at the computer and scooting closer. Taeil's eyebrows shoot up, but he turns around dutifully.
There's something of that shyness in him again as he clicks aimlessly through the program, saving his work. "Just something I'm working on, a song. I'm uh, a singer, you know?" he laughs a little, and he sounds just as awkward as Jihoon feels. Jihoon scoots closer, until he can see the screen more clearly. Taeil shifts in his chair and Jihoon wonders if he's making him uncomfortable, being so close. He shifts back. "Or at least, I'm trying to be a singer."
"Oh, I know," Jihoon says, feeling weird even as he says the words because Taeil seems surprised. "I saw you, you know, at the welcoming ceremony? You sang the national anthem."
Taeil nods as if it makes sense, though there's still some surprise lingering on his face. He's so quiet, it's hard to know if Jihoon is even welcome.
"Can I listen to it?" Jihoon asks suddenly, loath to leave. "You were really good before."
Taeil nods and motions for him to get a chair, so Jihoon wrangles one from a nearby workstation and wheels it over next to Taeil's. The chairs are so big that when Jihoon sits down, the arm of his chair slams into Taeil's and sends the upperclassman skittering sideways a little bit. Jihoon feels clumsy and ashamed, like he's too big for his body, but Taeil doesn't seem to notice.
He slips the headphones over his head and hands them over to Jihoon with a little smile that kicks something in Jihoon's heart. He can hear it, thudding through his ears and bounced back by the closed circuit of the sound-cancelling headphones. Taeil clicks through his files and chooses one, his fingertip hovering over the play button for an abbreviated moment. Then the music starts and Taeil shoots him a shy smile.
His singing is amazing, even better than Jihoon remembers. The recording isn't that well done, obviously without a soundproof room or a studio quality microphone, but Taeil's voice is unmistakably sweet and strong, and the song, though Jihoon doesn't recognize it, suits his style a lot better than the national anthem. It's a love song, full of longing and desires for a second chance, and something in it catches at Jihoon's heart, though he mostly listens to pop or hip hop.
When the song finally winds down, Jihoon pulls off the headphones. Taeil is looking at his phone, a frown pressing down the corners of his lips. Even so close and basically on the same level, Taeil seems so tiny next to Jihoon. For once, the difference doesn't make him feel huge in comparison, just that he wants to reach out and tweak Taeil's cheek.
Taeil looks up. "So I-- oh, did you like it?" He looks so earnest that the huge smile that lights up Jihoon's face is genuine.
"It was so good! So much better than the national anthem, really." He hands the headphones back to Taeil, who sets them on the desk. "What song was it, though? I've never heard it before."
Taeil shrugs. "I like that kind of old music. It's not very popular." And when he says the name of the singer, Jihoon really can't recognize it, even when Taeil lists off some of their 'better known work'.
He catches sight of the clock over Taeil's shoulder, and realizes he must be taking up so much of Taeil's time. It's a little past 4 and still Jiho is nowhere to be found, even when Jihoon checks his messages. Radio silence, which is unusual for Jiho, so he texts Jaehyo.
Jihoon: Where's Jiho? We were supposed to meet @ A/V room after school. Is there a meeting?
Taeil is distinctly not watching him as he works on closing down his computer tabs, saving everything to a small USB stick.
Jaehyo texts back a minute later.
Jaehyo: he's tied up kk
Jihoon frowns at his phone but before he can respond, Jaehyo sends another text.
Jaehyo: but he says he'll be there soon
Taeil shoots him a sideways look. "Friends?"
"Hmm?" Jihoon looks up, still confused. "Yeah, I was going to meet them here but I guess they're a little busy right now."
"Really? Who do you know?" Taeil's voice is a little strained, but he looks mostly calm as he puts his USB in his backpack.
Jihoon scratches the back of his neck, not wanting to brag. "Woo Jiho? The president of the A/V Club?" he tries.
Taeil laughs, something in his expression telling Jihoon that he, too, knows Jiho more personally than just the wayward president of his club. "Oh yeah. And he told you he'd meet you here?"
Jihoon shrugs. "I thought there was a meeting, but--" he feels a little bit stupid, now that Taeil is watching him.
"It's okay. Jiho is a little hard to understand sometimes. Even as the club president. He seems to leave all the administration duties to his--" Taeil stops himself, looking a little confused for a moment, "friend? Vice President? Jaehyo. Just makes a bunch of mixes for people and writes raps for himself."
"Sounds about right." Jihoon looks over at Taeil, who has leaned back in the swivel chair and is spinning himself slightly back and forth. "That's how we know each other, actually, the raps. He writes them and sometimes makes me do them."
Taeil raises his eyebrows, looking interested. Jihoon feels stupidly proud, like he's done something slightly more cool than awkwardly rapping about being a delinquent, smart boy, whatever else Jiho -- Zico-- writes about, though none of its very true for him. "That's cool. I mean, I'd like to hear some of your stuff sometime." He looks embarrassed by the request almost as soon as he makes it, but Jihoon is excited.
He actually wants to see me perform! Jihoon thinks gleefully to himself.
They wait another half an hour for Jiho to appear, but he never does, and all of the texts he sends to Jaehyo go unanswered (and unseen) as well. Jihoon doesn't really get why it's a mystery, but maybe that's why it's a mystery? Jiho is weird.
But then he's getting up to leave when Taeil stops him with an unexpected hand on his arm. He takes it off almost as soon as he touches Jihoon, but there's an odd spark under Jihoon's skin nonetheless. Maybe it's just the surprise.
"Did you," Taeil starts, but then his small lips press together and he falls silent for a moment, visibly searching for words. "Did you get something for Valentine's Day?" he ventures.
It's like a hot, unexpected shot down his spine and Jihoon feels himself tense. "Did Jiho say something to you?" he blurts out, and frustration is already digging it's way towards his heart, heat flushing over his skin. He can't believe his hyung, telling everyone-- the whole A/V club, maybe-- about the heartless joke he was going to play on Jihoon. It's humiliating, and Jihoon thought the whole thing was over.
But Taeil looks confused and he curls his fingers together in an awkward motion. "No, he didn't, I was just curious." Jihoon stares at him, disbelieving, and perhaps Taeil catches it because he shifts on the chair and can't meet his eyes. "Okay, it's just because, if you got a letter, I wrote it."
He says it quickly, trying to get it over with. There's pink on his cheeks like he's embarrassed. Jihoon doesn't understand why he feels like he has to confess this like it's so bad. He didn't come up with the joke, was probably only roped into it by Jiho so Jihoon wouldn't immediately recognize his handwriting. It's a little disappointing, that the guy he's admired was in on a painful joke, but Jihoon can't find it in him to be mad at him about it.
"It's fine, Taeil-ssi, don't worry about it," Jihoon says, even though his stomach is twisting at the memory. He wants to go home, doesn't want to wait around for Jiho's 'mystery' anymore. "It wasn't that funny or anything. I'm sorry Jiho got you in on it, though."
Taeil looks startled, though, eyebrows high on his head. "Got me in-- no, that's not what I meant," he says, voice a little strangled.
Jihoon raises his head and looks at Taeil again. "What did you mean?"
"I meant that I wanted to tell you something and I wanted you to meet me at 4 in the science room," Taeil says, and something drops in Jihoon's chest like a rock. Is this more of the same joke?
"Okay," he says slowly, knowing he'll just have to go through with it before Jiho lets him free. He probably set it all up beforehand, like dominos that are falling on Jihoon's head with increasingly painful thumps. "What did you want to tell me?"
Taeil is full-on red, although it's just the tips of his ears and down his neck to disappear under the collar of his shirt. He pauses for a long moment and Jihoon wonders if he'll be too embarrassed by his lines to go through with it.
Jihoon doesn't prompt him, not sure if he wants to hear what he has to say.
Finally, Taeil humphs out a breath and looks at Jihoon in the face. His voice trembles just slightly when he says in a low tone, "I like you."
Jihoon's heart clenches painfully at the sincerity in Taeil's tone, and he suddenly wants to cry. He knows it's not true, but it doesn't help that he wants it to be. They sit there in painful silence for several long seconds before Taeil blinks rapidly, pulling back with a small breath. He looks tense, hands white-knuckled around the swivel chair's arms.
"It's okay, I didn't think you'd like me back," he says, and his voice is devastatingly small. "I just wanted to tell you, I guess, since it's my last year."
Jihoon doesn't even know if he can respond because his heart feels like it's being crumpled up like Taeil's stupid love letter and Jihoon really is going to find Jiho later and punch him, or something.
Then Taeil looks and him and smiles, the corners a little tremulous. He opens his mouth like there's another line he has to say.
Jihoon can't take it anymore and stands, sending his chair spinning across the room.
"This isn't funny," he demands, though his voice is shaking and his heartbeat is roaring in his ears. "This isn't funny and I want you to s-stop."
Taeil makes a small sound of discontent or confusion, Jihoon doesn't know, but it makes everything else flow out, the things he can't yell at Jiho but wishes he could.
"I know Jiho put you up to this so it's not even your fault, but the joke stopped being funny yesterday-- no, it wasn't even funny yesterday, it was mean and-and stupid." His voice is starting to tremble so he rushes the rest of the words out because he is determined to finish this. "I know I look weird, okay, I know, and I joke all the time about liking people and I've never had a girlfriend but that doesn't mean you can-- I s-still--" but his words are getting choked up in the frustration and hurt that's rising in his chest and he really is going to cry in front of Taeil and that is not what he wants.
Taeil is staring at him, the color drained out of his face. Jihoon stares back, gulping down air in a fruitless attempt to keep from getting even more upset. His head is staring to pound.
"I like you," Taeil repeats in a small voice, almost as if he doesn't believe it.
"Stop it," Jihoon says, voice wavering, "this isn't funny."
Taeil doesn't respond, only stares up at him like Jihoon has broken his heart. Something tiny breaks through Jihoon's distress, some mad sense of hope. Maybe he does like me. Immediately, he shuts the thought down. It's not possible. It's a joke and it's going to end either way with his heart broken a little bit more.
Taeil leans down and picks up his backpack with trembling hands. It isn't even closed and he can't seem to concentrate on closing it, his fingers slipping over the zippers, so he just throws it over one shoulder and stands until he's facing Jihoon. Behind one pane of his glasses something glimmers on his cheek briefly, but he looks down and wipes it away with a jacket sleeve.
"Sorry," he says, voice nearly inaudible, "I didn't think this was a joke either."
This isn't fair, because Jihoon wants to comfort Taeil, who sounds so upset. But Jihoon is the one being pranked, the one whose heart feels like it's tearing in his chest. He tries to hang on to his anger to give himself some focus but it's slipping away so quickly his knees feel wobbly. Taeil looks so small in front of him, shoulders hunched over, but he's not moving, not taking back any of his words.
"It's a joke," Jihoon says weakly. It is. It almost has to be, now. Just say it.
But Taeil just shakes his head, still staring determinedly at his shoes.
"You like me?" He can't believe it. His head is starting to spin quickly. "Like, you want to go on a date with me?"
Taeil looks up-- not quite to his face, but somewhere around his shoulders-- and nods. Jihoon can't tell if the pang in his chest is pain or hope, guessing it's probably somewhere between the two.
A hot tear drops down one cheek and oh, fuck, now that he's started he won't stop. He reaches up and quickly wipes it away, but there are more coming on both sides, spilling out of his eyes now that the real upset is over.
He's hoping, somehow, that Taeil won't see, won't see this pathetic, humiliating response to his confession, but Taeil is standing less than a foot in front of him. He's going to take back his confession, and Jihoon will be even more of an idiot than before.
The thought makes the tears come harder and that's really not what he wants. He tries to stem the tide, shoving his glasses out of the way and trying to stopgap with his palms against his eyes, but the upset of the last two days is rising quickly to the surface and he can't stop. His heart feels like a hot, heavy weight in his chest and he's overaware of every second that passes, thinking that Taeil is going to leave.
A tentative hand lands on his shoulder, pressing down lightly right where Taeil was looking when he nodded. It calms him just a little, enough to get his tears under control, and he's sad when he wipes off his face and looks through blurry eyes at Taeil that Taeil drops it.
"I'm sorry," he says, voice wrecked by crying.
Taeil shakes his head, looking upset. "Don't be sorry. I'm the one who--" a little frown presses at his lips when he meets Jihoon's eyes, "who made you cry."
"No!" Jihoon reaches out and grasps Taeil's shoulders, only belatedly realizing his hands are covered in tears and probably making his jacket wet. He wants to let go but Taeil is looking up at him hopefully and he can't. "It's not because of you. It's because I thought you were making fun of me. That it was a joke."
"Why would I joke about it?" Taeil asks, but he doesn't give Jihoon enough time to respond. "I want-- I do like you, and I want to go on a date with you." He looks up at Jihoon and he seems so hopeful it hurts. "Do you want to go out with me?"
Jihoon can barely manage to say, "Yes," without his voice wobbling again. His whole body hurts and his eyes are stinging but there's an easy warmth spreading through his chest like something good is going to happen, for once. He can barely believe it but it's happening.
Taeil reaches up and wipes off his cheeks with two small, careful hands. His backpack is somewhere on the floor between their feet, but Jihoon doesn't care. It should be awkward to have someone he barely knows wipe his face from tears, but there's something immensely comforting about Taeil's hands, the soft and measured way he uses them. Jihoon's eyes fall shut as Taeil touches his face, and when Taeil presses closer he wonders if this is it, if this is going to be his first kiss.
Wildly, he hopes not-- not while he's still so upset, face hot and pained from the tears. He doesn't have a lot of requirements for his first kiss but this-- it shouldn't be now. But Taeil just brushes lightly over his lips with one of his thumbs and then pats on Jihoon's chest with one hand to open up his eyes.
He seems more awkward now that Jihoon has stopped crying and is almost all better.
"So, would you be free maybe tomorrow? Or Friday?" Taeil asks, and Jihoon scrubs a hand through the side of his hair while he tries to recover himself.
"Friday, I'm free, I think," he says, not sure if he really is, but he knows he'll make himself so if need be.
"Okay, let's go out then," Taeil says, and there's only the barest hint of a shake to his voice now. They exchange phone numbers and Kakao IDs, Jihoon sending him a funny little emoticon as soon as Taeil's ID shows up, glad when Taeil laughs a little at it.
He's grabbed his backpack again before he looks up at Jihoon. "Do you need the room for anything else?"
"No, I was just supposed to meet Jiho here earlier but he's probably not coming by now."
Taeil hmms and then directs him out the door. They walk down to the school gate together, back to their lighter chatter from before the big upset. It's all so devastatingly normal that Jihoon can barely remember why his chest still hurts and his cheeks are raw in the cold winter air. All of the heavy emotions seem to have been left in the A/V room, which Jihoon is grateful for. The cold air seems to revive him and he's glad when he's made Taeil laugh outright before they reach the gate and say their goodbyes.
Jihoon almost wants to hug him, but he's too shy and all he can do is walk backwards and wave as Taeil walks in the opposite direction, smiling and waving back.
--
Taeil does kiss him, though, later.
They're walking through Hongdae and all of the shops are starting to light up as the sun goes down over the hill. It's not so crowded, as couples push towards the restaurants and cafes nearby, too affected by the dropping temperature and icy streets to want to stay outside long.
Jihoon is laughing, he can't remember why, but Taeil grabs the wrist of his jacket and pulls him into a little side street. There's the entrance to a noraebang on the corner, but the rest of the street is quite dark and empty and at first Jihoon doesn't understand.
Taeil is smiling as he reaches up and grabs at Jihoon's new hat, the one with the two bobbles on the top that Taeil himself had branded 'cute'. Jihoon thinks he's going to take it off, and switch it with Taeil's new hat (red, with a massive bobble on top that Jihoon had chose), so he leans down slightly to make it easier for his hyung.
Instead, Taeil wraps a hand around the back of his neck, fingers curling into the warm space between Jihoon's scarf and skin. There's something in the expression on his face, a brief seriousness, that makes Jihoon's heart leap towards his throat because it seems obvious what he's about to do, so obvious. And Jihoon isn't prepared, doesn't know how to do this at all, but here is Taeil, arching up towards him and Jihoon can't turn away now for all his heartbeat starting to fill up his ears.
Taeil must notice Jihoon's hesitation, however brief, because he pauses barely an inch away, eyes flickering over Jihoon's face.
Anticipation crawls over Jihoon's skin like an electric charge, and he can't wait for Taeil to make a decision, especially one that might involve him moving further away from Jihoon. So he dips his head further, until he can feel the heat of Taeil's skin over his cheeks. He closes his eyes and their lips brush.
It's not what he thought it was, softer and more sweet than he's seen in the movies, and he has absolutely no idea what he's doing but it's nice; kind of weird in its novelty but good. Great. Taeil guides him, other hand coming up to cup his flaming cheek as he draws them closer together, until all that Jihoon can smell is the warm spice of Taeil's skin and the wool of his scarf.
He's never going to be able to look at winter clothes the same way again, not with the way his heart is attempting to beat out of his chest and some soft, hot emotion is filling his skin.
Taeil pulls away, though not far, and Jihoon is pleased to see that his cheeks are flushed. His lips, too, are darker pink and glimmering slightly in the lights from the street.
"Wow," Jihoon says, laughing a little in an overflow of that emotion, his mind buzzed and warm. Taeil smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners and it's cute.
He's so cute and Jihoon wants to kiss him again, but he knows it isn't the right place.
"It was good, then?" Taeil asks, ducking his head a little in embarrassment.
Jihoon's mind has evolved from warmth to a series of exclamation points, so all he can do is wrap his arms around Taeil's shoulders and pull him in. He might squish Taeil a little too hard, though, because Taeil quiet laughter cuts off in a huff and Jihoon pulls back to smile at him.
"We should do that again," Jihoon says, feeling his face flush with a new wave of heat. "Uh, later. Definitely later."
Taeil's bashful smile spreads across his face. "Okay, definitely," he says in a small voice, before wrapping one hand around Jihoon's wrist and pulling him back towards the street.
--
Jiho does, in fact, have a lot to do with Taeil and him getting together, Kyung informs him later. Apparently, he was the one who heard Taeil mention his crush on Jihoon and encouraged him to confess.
"He basically badgered me into it," Taeil says one day during lunch, the wind over the top of the school roof blowing his hair over his face. Jihoon reaches over and brushes it away from his eyes, secure that no one else is up here at this time.
Taeil smiles at him. "I didn't think you would want to go out with me, or even talk to me, but he kind of insisted. He even got Mino to tape the letter in your locker, so there wouldn't be any suspicious talk about me in your classroom."
"Mino!" Jihoon yells, feeling betrayed by his entire friend group. He's not entirely mad, though. Not anymore. "Was everyone else involved, too?"
Taeil's laughter is lost in the wind. "I think so, at most points. You know when you came in the A/V room the next day?"
Jihoon frowns, trying to remember. "Because Jiho-hyung said he'd meet me there?"
"Yeah, actually," Taeil dips his head, "Jiho said he would meet me there, too."
Jihoon wants to laugh but he makes himself growl out something vaguely threatening to Jiho's existence. It is embarrassing to basically be thrown in a room together with his crush, but he can't expect anything better from Woo Jiho and his band of merry troublemakers.
"It's not so bad, is it?" Taeil asks, leaning up against him. Jihoon looks over and tries to keep his annoyed expression on, but it's impossible.
Instead, he leans in and kisses Taeil lightly on the lips, pulling away before he has time to object (not that he ever has). He smiles at the blush spreading over Taeil's cheeks, something that hasn't changed much in the several months they've been together like this.
That soft, hot emotion that he could barely recognize in February has taken up permanent residence in his skin, and he knows it's affection, or even love (though he can't say it yet).
"No, it's great."
END
A/N: I HAVE DIED FROM FLUFFY FEELS GOODBYE
Pairing: Taeil/Jihoon
Group: Block B
Rating: PG SO PG IT HURTS
Notes: I JSUT LOST ALL OF MY FORMATTING IM SO MAD OMG WHY LJ WHY uh i started this early and yet im still late whoooooops
Summary: hs!AU This is a joke, but Jihoon isn't laughing.
There's a pale blue envelope taped to the inside of Jihoon's locker.
Voices chatter behind him, cries of lunch requests by the lazy ones in his class to their friends who are going to brave the rush of the cafeteria, boys cracking loud jokes, the scrape of chairs and desks across the linoleum, but there's a buzzing growing in Jihoon's ears that's starting to block it all out. The rest of the classroom seems distant now, though just a second ago he was in the middle of something-- something he can't quite remember.
He reaches out and traces over the edge of the paper with his fingertips, heart thrumming heavily through his ears and filling up his skin like a bass beat. But instead of the heady rush he always gets off music, he feels like he's going to be sick all over the floor, empty stomach clenching and roiling queasily. He takes a deep breath, ashamed when it catches on the lump at the base of his throat and he has to take another just to feel steady. With three long fingers, he reaches for the corner of the envelope.
The tape snaps off from the locker door and he flips the paper delicately, holding onto its edges as if he's not quite sure what it is. Across the front of the envelope is 'Pyo Jihoon' scrawled in messy handwriting. The nieun is squashed up under the vowel and the Pyo just a mess of scratchy lines that could be some deformed hanja character. He wants to laugh it off, stave off the hurt catching at his throat, but the pressure is rising in his chest and he can't breathe.
'No girl could write like this,' he thinks, trying to keep calm, as if it hasn't been obvious from the beginning that it couldn't be from a girl. He goes to an all-boys school, for one. No girl could get five feet past the front gate without rumors abounding, every guy in school suddenly aware of her presence and watching with hawk-like eyes where she went, who she talked to, who she smiled at.
Therefore, it must be a joke.
Jihoon wonders where his friends are, if they're behind him and waiting for him to turn around and laugh, so he tries to put on a disaffected face. He can do this-- he's the joker, the personality behind the class and he's never taken anything too seriously. He was named Mood Maker in his homeroom in his first year of middle school, and it's been impossible to shake the role since. He never minded it up till now, when he'd do anything to find an empty corner where he could curl up, put his face into his scarf, and be alone.
A little smile curls at the edges of his lips, but it's an effort. Nothing gives away the painful beat of his heart, the aching thump-thump, but a slight tremor in his fingers.
The envelope's seal breaks easily and inside is a matching piece of blue, lined paper. It looks a little like the paper of the composition notebooks Jiho frequently uses, even if the side is cut a little wobbly with a pair of scissors to get rid of the ripped edge. They obviously tried hard to make it look real. Every instance of his friends' presence on the envelope is another tiny dig into his heart, dragging it slowly, inexorably towards his feet.
Jihoon's face is heating up the way it always does before he starts to cry, so he presses his lips together tightly and begins to read.
Pyo Jihoon,
I have something important to tell you today. Can you come meet me in the science room at 4PM?
There's only an unreadable scrawl at the bottom, a mess of black lines that he can't begin to decipher, but he doesn't need to. It's his friends' writing and his friends' envelope and his friends' joke and he should laugh it off with them, but he can't. He doesn't even want to. Tears are starting to prick at the corners of his eyes and he looks up at the ceiling, trying hard not to blink so they won't fall.
The facts are clear to him. He's 16, never had a girlfriend, overweight, with a frizzy perm he's had for the past six months because he doesn't have the funds to get rid of it. And he might well be gay, though the thought is so terrifying he can barely consider it in his mind, let alone admit to someone else. He's aware he looks stupid, and he probably acts like it, too. Honestly, he's never held out much hope for a crush or a letter of confession. But none of these things have stopped him from wanting to be in love, sometimes so badly it feels like a physical ache in his bones or a vise around his throat, and this letter just seems so unimaginably cruel. The first thing he's gotten that is so close to what he wants, and it's a joke.
He wants to laugh, knowing that his friends are going to see his upset face when he turns around, but he can't, not today.
It's Valentine's Day.
It's already painful enough with red, heart-shaped boxes of candies everywhere and couples clogging up the streets and restaurants. They all smile at each other, hands intertwined, and he wants to push them apart roughly, wants to yell and ask why they're taking up all the love in the world, and can't they spare some for him, just once? Why are they so greedy? But perhaps he's the greedy one, asking for something he doesn't deserve.
With considerable effort, he keeps down his tears and stuffs the letter back in the envelope. Something is rising with the hurt in his chest and throat, some sort of misplaced anger, and before he realizes what he's doing, he's crumpled up the letter into a tight ball in his hand, edges digging into his palm. He wants to throw it in the wastebasket, or maybe directly into the incinerator as if the destruction could do something to stem the anger rising in his heart, but something stops him up. Maybe later he'll have the heart to laugh about it, so he simply chucks it into the back of his locker instead and slams the door shut.
Something in his chest still feels tremulous, like he's teetering on the bare edge between anger and hurt and he wants neither like a knife in his chest. With a quick hand, he rubs over his face and into his hair, hoping to focus himself. But his hand gets stuck in the curls and the crown of his head stings as he pulls his fingers free. Frustration starts to crawl over his skin.
Someone slaps him hard on the shoulder, unbalancing him so suddenly he slams his knee into the lockers. With a slight cry of pain, he turns and looks over his shoulder, hands curled around his throbbing knee.
"Anything good, Jihoonie?"
It's Yukwon quiet voice, and his slight smile that towers over Jihoon, hands tucked into his pockets now. He's had a girlfriend for 3 years already and she's his first love and gorgeous and sweet and Jihoon feels his heart break slightly because she makes Yukwon so happy. Why'd it have to be him making the joke?
Jihoon grimaces, transferring his hands from his knee to his stomach, clutching at it like he's going to be ill. Maybe he is. He might prefer it.
"I don't feel well. I need to go home," Jihoon mumbles, ignoring the pain in his knee and in his stomach and at the base of his skull as he clambers to his feet. Yukwon starts to say something, but Jihoon can't listen to his explanation right now and brushes past. None of his other friends are behind Yukwon, or even in the room.
Jihoon doesn't understand this joke at all.
The nurse takes one look at his pale face and sends him home, promising to inform his homeroom teacher and patting his face with one cool, soft hand. She smiles at him and the sympathy on her wrinkled face just makes him feel worse.
There are hardly any couples out on the buses at this time, for which he's grateful. He lets the comforting hum of the bus' engine lull him into a false sense of security. Leaning up against the window, he feels like the rest of the world is cut off from him and for once, he's grateful for it. By the time he gets home, he's no longer sad or sick, only exhausted. He sheds his jacket and his shoes and falls onto his bed. With the last of his energy, he grabs his pillow and drags it to his chest, curling up around it. He very determinedly does not cry before he falls into a heavy sleep.
He sleeps through 4PM and the rest of Valentines Day, waking up at 2AM to groggily eat shrimp chips in bed and watch reruns of variety shows. In his chest, near his heart, that perpetual ache remains, somewhat deepened by the events of the day. It'll fade, though. It always does.
--
Jiho is the one who slides in next to him the next morning before classes start, though he's a year up from Jihoon and has a tendency not to show up to school before 10AM. Jihoon is still so tired from his odd sleep schedule that he doesn't immediately connect Jiho's appearance with anything other than the bi-weekly attempt of his hyung to corral him into a noraebang session.
"So," Jiho says, dragging out the word and his nasally voice is kind of annoying so early in the morning. Jihoon really does need to finish this math homework before class begins, and he doesn't have time for this. "How was Valentine's?" Jiho asks, and at the mention Jihoon immediately tenses, hand stilling over his problem sheets. Jiho leans closer. "Got anything good?"
He's bent over his work, so he has a moment to collect himself, but he's aware of Jiho's sharp gaze over his profile. Briefly, he wonders what would happen if he told Jiho his joke wasn't funny, at all. He manages to chuckle a little, though, even as his chest is drawing tight over his breath.
"That was really good, Jiho-hyung," he says, barely able to look at Jiho's expectant face before heat starts to prickle over his neck and he has to turn back to his paper.
Something drops in Jiho's expression and he turns more fully towards Jihoon. He can hear the chair scrape across the floor, loud, and wonders where Mino is, why he's not coming in and shoving Jiho playfully out of his chair and saving Jihoon from this uncomfortable conversation.
"Wha--" Jiho starts, but Jihoon cuts across him in a loud voice.
"Really funny!" He's determined to take this in stride. The pain in his chest is less than it was yesterday, just a bare pressure only over his heart, but every second it grows stronger. He wonders how long it will take to suffocate him today. "So realistic. You almost got me." He shakes a finger jokingly in Jiho's direction, glad of his level voice.
"Jihoonie--"
"So good," he says, lips still straining at a smile and eyes scrunched up like he's going to laugh. What is rising up to his face is probably closer to tears, though. "But your handwriting is really bad, hyung, really bad. Not at all like a girl's. You should have gotten Minhyukkie-hyung to write it instead, and maybe I would have been fooled for a little bit longer."
Jiho makes a disgruntled sound, and Jihoon wonders if he's managed to insult him. Good, he thinks vindictively, but is immediately ashamed. It's not really Jiho's fault he managed to hit such a tender spot in Jihoon's heart. Even his closest friends couldn't admit to knowing about his longing for love, even the barest, remotest possibility for it, and he's not sure whether that's sad or the way he actually wants it.
Maybe it's easier this way. He'll just laugh off jokes about girlfriends, love, until he eventually grows old and dies, alone as ever. Or surrounded by empty ramen containers and possibly hugging his dog. He's not sure if the image makes him want to laugh or cry.
He looks back down at his papers, trying to read them, but though they're in plain black-and-white hangul, everything is starting to blur in front of his eyes. With one nail, he scratches at the side of his face until it hurts, aware that he can't touch his eyes. Not while Jiho is still staring at him so pointedly, no laughter on his lips or explanation of the joke.
Maybe Jiho does understand, after all. Jihoon sort of wishes he didn't; the possibility of vulnerability makes his next words louder, barely even joking anymore. It's almost a plea.
"You'd better get back to your own classroom before Mr. Lee finds you here again. He'll be mad you're riling up the underclassmen," Jihoon chastises, aware of his racing heart and Jiho's overwhelming silence. Why won't Jiho just leave?
Jiho reaches over and grabs at Jihoon's hand, wrapping his long fingers tightly over it. Jihoon's heart surges up his throat and this is kind of a pathetic attempt at comfort, but in a room full of teenaged boys, perhaps its the best Jiho can realistically offer. If Jiho tried to hug him, Jihoon might have to punch him in the stomach or something, and he doesn't really feel up for it.
Jiho doesn't say anything for a moment, as if he's trying to conjure up some comforting words that have never come easily to him. Tension curls in Jihoon's stomach, that slight sense that something is wrong and he can't put a finger on why, just knows.
And then Mr. Lee takes that moment to appear in the doorway, sheaf of papers pressed to his side and mere presence enough to quieten down the guys.
"Woo Jiho!" he yells, voice booming in the tiny room. Jiho jerks back, and the tension in Jihoon's stomach snaps in an abrupt moment that makes him feel slightly disoriented. Before Jiho can be properly chastised, he lurches from the chair and runs for the door, laughing even when Mr. Lee picks up a chalkboard eraser and throws it uselessly at his back, threatening him with extra homework if he's seen anywhere near the first years rooms again.
Jihoon manages to cough up a real laugh at that, and afterwards the tears are easy to swallow back down.
--
He gets a series of texts between periods, while the teachers change out. The possibility that they might be weird attempts at comfort make him ignore them until his phone buzzes again and falls off the edge of his desk. Thankfully, Jiho's texting is largely innocuous, until he gets to the final messages.
Jiho: are u free after school?
Jiho: say yes
Jiho: jihoonieeee tell me
Jiho: ok u rent responding but i no ur free
Jihoon: I'm trying to learn.
But maybe responding is just encouraging Jiho, as Jihoon's phone suffers from a mini freak out under a deluge of responses.
Jiho: haha
Jiho: ok fine learn u smartypants
Jiho: but meet me after school
Mino looks up from where he's trying to nap on his desk, frowning sleepily at Jihoon.
"Be quiet," he mutters, batting in Jihoon's general direction. Jihoon smiles a little. At least Mino has asked nothing about Valentine's Day, or about the letter that's still crumpled up in the back of his locker.
Jihoon: Why?
Jiho responds almost immediately, and Jihoon barely has enough time to check the screen before their math teacher comes in and everyone is forced to look up and lively.
Jiho: mystery. just meet me in the a/v room at 330
Jiho: dont skive or ill cut u
Jihoon laughs quietly. Jiho threatens a lot, does little, but it's somehow charming. He hopes it has absolutely nothing to do with comforting him, though the mention of a 'mystery' is not comforting. Jiho isn't known for his good surprises.
--
He thinks the A/V room is empty when he charges in at 3:37, having forgot he was supposed to meet Jiho when he was almost to the bus stop, and had to turn and run back towards school in order not to be late. It's useless, though, since Jiho obviously isn't there (Jiho makes a lot of noise when he's not concentrating on his work, so he's easy to spot).
Jihoon sticks his head back out the door and looks down the emptying hallway, but Jiho is nowhere to be seen. Jihoon frowns, something niggling at the back of his mind but he can't seem to bring it to the forefront. Something about meetings, but his annoyance at Jiho blocks it out.
Tsking, he turns back inside, sliding the door quietly shut behind him. When he looks up, there's an upperclassman sitting in a swivel chair half-turned towards him. A computer screen is live behind him, the familiar backdrop of StudioPro mixing software up and running. There's a thick set of headphones around the upperclassman's neck, and Jihoon should be able to recognize him from the A/V Club, since he's practically a part of it, considering how often Jiho drags him here, but the guy doesn't seem to recognize him.
He does seem strangely familiar to Jihoon, though, and he can't place why.
The guy stares at him, blank-faced and his mouth a little bit open, for a long moment before Jihoon realizes he's standing in the doorway like an idiot and just staring back.
He puts on his best smile, though he feels unexpectedly a little shy, and walks closer. "Hi, uh, sorry for bothering you. I'm Pyo Jihoon, first year," he says, and that seems to snap the upperclassman out of his daze.
He shuts his mouth and a smile curls at the edges of his lips. Jihoon can't help but think he's a little bit cute. "Hi, I'm Lee Taeil, senior," he says, and it's his voice that does it.
Of course, Jihoon thinks as his memory starts snapping places and people together. It's Lee Taeil, the senior with the amazing voice who was chosen to sing the school song and national anthem at the opening ceremony for new students. The memory makes him smile, because Taeil was so tiny up on stage, shifting and a little bit awkward on his feet before they'd handed him the microphone.
Jihoon hadn't really been paying attention most of the ceremony, and as the music started up he had even started to list slightly to the side, tired from playing video games all night and not really in the mood to hear yet another mediocre version of the same song.
But Taeil had started singing, voice low but sweet somehow, the strength of it a little bit out of proportion with his body. And the more he sang, the less he seemed focused on the people watching him and a strange sense of confidence, or maybe it was just good showmanship, filled him and he let off the last notes as if his whole body were made for this, made to make this music.
Jihoon hadn't even realized he'd sat bolt upright in his chair, whole body strung tight as he stared after Taeil as he left the stage, bowing in short little bursts at the slight outburst of applause.
"Are you okay?" Mino had asked, hand on his shoulder snapping Jihoon out of his daze.
"Who was that?" Jihoon asked, aware of his heartbeat slamming in his chest, though the national anthem had never inspired patriotism or anything even close.
Mino raised his eyebrows at him, but smiled indulgently. "Lee... something? I think. A senior, or something. I wasn't really listening." When Jihoon didn't say anything, rolling the information around in his head and cursing his exhaustion for not catching the guy's name, Mino had squeezed his shoulder again. "Why do you want to know?"
"Nothing, no reason," Jihoon had said, shaking his head. Soon after the ceremony he had forgotten the whole ordeal, and he never saw Taeil around the school, so it was easy to forget.
But here he is, in front of Jihoon again. Jihoon can't think of anything to say that won't sound oddly out of place, like, 'I saw you perform 4 months ago and I wanted to find you afterwards to ask you about your voice,' without sounding obsessed.
A blush starts to form over his cheeks and down his neck, and Taeil is just staring up at him for an explanation. Jihoon's heart is starting to kick up a little bit like it did when Taeil sang.
"Oh, uh, what are you doing?" Jihoon asks, waving at the computer and scooting closer. Taeil's eyebrows shoot up, but he turns around dutifully.
There's something of that shyness in him again as he clicks aimlessly through the program, saving his work. "Just something I'm working on, a song. I'm uh, a singer, you know?" he laughs a little, and he sounds just as awkward as Jihoon feels. Jihoon scoots closer, until he can see the screen more clearly. Taeil shifts in his chair and Jihoon wonders if he's making him uncomfortable, being so close. He shifts back. "Or at least, I'm trying to be a singer."
"Oh, I know," Jihoon says, feeling weird even as he says the words because Taeil seems surprised. "I saw you, you know, at the welcoming ceremony? You sang the national anthem."
Taeil nods as if it makes sense, though there's still some surprise lingering on his face. He's so quiet, it's hard to know if Jihoon is even welcome.
"Can I listen to it?" Jihoon asks suddenly, loath to leave. "You were really good before."
Taeil nods and motions for him to get a chair, so Jihoon wrangles one from a nearby workstation and wheels it over next to Taeil's. The chairs are so big that when Jihoon sits down, the arm of his chair slams into Taeil's and sends the upperclassman skittering sideways a little bit. Jihoon feels clumsy and ashamed, like he's too big for his body, but Taeil doesn't seem to notice.
He slips the headphones over his head and hands them over to Jihoon with a little smile that kicks something in Jihoon's heart. He can hear it, thudding through his ears and bounced back by the closed circuit of the sound-cancelling headphones. Taeil clicks through his files and chooses one, his fingertip hovering over the play button for an abbreviated moment. Then the music starts and Taeil shoots him a shy smile.
His singing is amazing, even better than Jihoon remembers. The recording isn't that well done, obviously without a soundproof room or a studio quality microphone, but Taeil's voice is unmistakably sweet and strong, and the song, though Jihoon doesn't recognize it, suits his style a lot better than the national anthem. It's a love song, full of longing and desires for a second chance, and something in it catches at Jihoon's heart, though he mostly listens to pop or hip hop.
When the song finally winds down, Jihoon pulls off the headphones. Taeil is looking at his phone, a frown pressing down the corners of his lips. Even so close and basically on the same level, Taeil seems so tiny next to Jihoon. For once, the difference doesn't make him feel huge in comparison, just that he wants to reach out and tweak Taeil's cheek.
Taeil looks up. "So I-- oh, did you like it?" He looks so earnest that the huge smile that lights up Jihoon's face is genuine.
"It was so good! So much better than the national anthem, really." He hands the headphones back to Taeil, who sets them on the desk. "What song was it, though? I've never heard it before."
Taeil shrugs. "I like that kind of old music. It's not very popular." And when he says the name of the singer, Jihoon really can't recognize it, even when Taeil lists off some of their 'better known work'.
He catches sight of the clock over Taeil's shoulder, and realizes he must be taking up so much of Taeil's time. It's a little past 4 and still Jiho is nowhere to be found, even when Jihoon checks his messages. Radio silence, which is unusual for Jiho, so he texts Jaehyo.
Jihoon: Where's Jiho? We were supposed to meet @ A/V room after school. Is there a meeting?
Taeil is distinctly not watching him as he works on closing down his computer tabs, saving everything to a small USB stick.
Jaehyo texts back a minute later.
Jaehyo: he's tied up kk
Jihoon frowns at his phone but before he can respond, Jaehyo sends another text.
Jaehyo: but he says he'll be there soon
Taeil shoots him a sideways look. "Friends?"
"Hmm?" Jihoon looks up, still confused. "Yeah, I was going to meet them here but I guess they're a little busy right now."
"Really? Who do you know?" Taeil's voice is a little strained, but he looks mostly calm as he puts his USB in his backpack.
Jihoon scratches the back of his neck, not wanting to brag. "Woo Jiho? The president of the A/V Club?" he tries.
Taeil laughs, something in his expression telling Jihoon that he, too, knows Jiho more personally than just the wayward president of his club. "Oh yeah. And he told you he'd meet you here?"
Jihoon shrugs. "I thought there was a meeting, but--" he feels a little bit stupid, now that Taeil is watching him.
"It's okay. Jiho is a little hard to understand sometimes. Even as the club president. He seems to leave all the administration duties to his--" Taeil stops himself, looking a little confused for a moment, "friend? Vice President? Jaehyo. Just makes a bunch of mixes for people and writes raps for himself."
"Sounds about right." Jihoon looks over at Taeil, who has leaned back in the swivel chair and is spinning himself slightly back and forth. "That's how we know each other, actually, the raps. He writes them and sometimes makes me do them."
Taeil raises his eyebrows, looking interested. Jihoon feels stupidly proud, like he's done something slightly more cool than awkwardly rapping about being a delinquent, smart boy, whatever else Jiho -- Zico-- writes about, though none of its very true for him. "That's cool. I mean, I'd like to hear some of your stuff sometime." He looks embarrassed by the request almost as soon as he makes it, but Jihoon is excited.
He actually wants to see me perform! Jihoon thinks gleefully to himself.
They wait another half an hour for Jiho to appear, but he never does, and all of the texts he sends to Jaehyo go unanswered (and unseen) as well. Jihoon doesn't really get why it's a mystery, but maybe that's why it's a mystery? Jiho is weird.
But then he's getting up to leave when Taeil stops him with an unexpected hand on his arm. He takes it off almost as soon as he touches Jihoon, but there's an odd spark under Jihoon's skin nonetheless. Maybe it's just the surprise.
"Did you," Taeil starts, but then his small lips press together and he falls silent for a moment, visibly searching for words. "Did you get something for Valentine's Day?" he ventures.
It's like a hot, unexpected shot down his spine and Jihoon feels himself tense. "Did Jiho say something to you?" he blurts out, and frustration is already digging it's way towards his heart, heat flushing over his skin. He can't believe his hyung, telling everyone-- the whole A/V club, maybe-- about the heartless joke he was going to play on Jihoon. It's humiliating, and Jihoon thought the whole thing was over.
But Taeil looks confused and he curls his fingers together in an awkward motion. "No, he didn't, I was just curious." Jihoon stares at him, disbelieving, and perhaps Taeil catches it because he shifts on the chair and can't meet his eyes. "Okay, it's just because, if you got a letter, I wrote it."
He says it quickly, trying to get it over with. There's pink on his cheeks like he's embarrassed. Jihoon doesn't understand why he feels like he has to confess this like it's so bad. He didn't come up with the joke, was probably only roped into it by Jiho so Jihoon wouldn't immediately recognize his handwriting. It's a little disappointing, that the guy he's admired was in on a painful joke, but Jihoon can't find it in him to be mad at him about it.
"It's fine, Taeil-ssi, don't worry about it," Jihoon says, even though his stomach is twisting at the memory. He wants to go home, doesn't want to wait around for Jiho's 'mystery' anymore. "It wasn't that funny or anything. I'm sorry Jiho got you in on it, though."
Taeil looks startled, though, eyebrows high on his head. "Got me in-- no, that's not what I meant," he says, voice a little strangled.
Jihoon raises his head and looks at Taeil again. "What did you mean?"
"I meant that I wanted to tell you something and I wanted you to meet me at 4 in the science room," Taeil says, and something drops in Jihoon's chest like a rock. Is this more of the same joke?
"Okay," he says slowly, knowing he'll just have to go through with it before Jiho lets him free. He probably set it all up beforehand, like dominos that are falling on Jihoon's head with increasingly painful thumps. "What did you want to tell me?"
Taeil is full-on red, although it's just the tips of his ears and down his neck to disappear under the collar of his shirt. He pauses for a long moment and Jihoon wonders if he'll be too embarrassed by his lines to go through with it.
Jihoon doesn't prompt him, not sure if he wants to hear what he has to say.
Finally, Taeil humphs out a breath and looks at Jihoon in the face. His voice trembles just slightly when he says in a low tone, "I like you."
Jihoon's heart clenches painfully at the sincerity in Taeil's tone, and he suddenly wants to cry. He knows it's not true, but it doesn't help that he wants it to be. They sit there in painful silence for several long seconds before Taeil blinks rapidly, pulling back with a small breath. He looks tense, hands white-knuckled around the swivel chair's arms.
"It's okay, I didn't think you'd like me back," he says, and his voice is devastatingly small. "I just wanted to tell you, I guess, since it's my last year."
Jihoon doesn't even know if he can respond because his heart feels like it's being crumpled up like Taeil's stupid love letter and Jihoon really is going to find Jiho later and punch him, or something.
Then Taeil looks and him and smiles, the corners a little tremulous. He opens his mouth like there's another line he has to say.
Jihoon can't take it anymore and stands, sending his chair spinning across the room.
"This isn't funny," he demands, though his voice is shaking and his heartbeat is roaring in his ears. "This isn't funny and I want you to s-stop."
Taeil makes a small sound of discontent or confusion, Jihoon doesn't know, but it makes everything else flow out, the things he can't yell at Jiho but wishes he could.
"I know Jiho put you up to this so it's not even your fault, but the joke stopped being funny yesterday-- no, it wasn't even funny yesterday, it was mean and-and stupid." His voice is starting to tremble so he rushes the rest of the words out because he is determined to finish this. "I know I look weird, okay, I know, and I joke all the time about liking people and I've never had a girlfriend but that doesn't mean you can-- I s-still--" but his words are getting choked up in the frustration and hurt that's rising in his chest and he really is going to cry in front of Taeil and that is not what he wants.
Taeil is staring at him, the color drained out of his face. Jihoon stares back, gulping down air in a fruitless attempt to keep from getting even more upset. His head is staring to pound.
"I like you," Taeil repeats in a small voice, almost as if he doesn't believe it.
"Stop it," Jihoon says, voice wavering, "this isn't funny."
Taeil doesn't respond, only stares up at him like Jihoon has broken his heart. Something tiny breaks through Jihoon's distress, some mad sense of hope. Maybe he does like me. Immediately, he shuts the thought down. It's not possible. It's a joke and it's going to end either way with his heart broken a little bit more.
Taeil leans down and picks up his backpack with trembling hands. It isn't even closed and he can't seem to concentrate on closing it, his fingers slipping over the zippers, so he just throws it over one shoulder and stands until he's facing Jihoon. Behind one pane of his glasses something glimmers on his cheek briefly, but he looks down and wipes it away with a jacket sleeve.
"Sorry," he says, voice nearly inaudible, "I didn't think this was a joke either."
This isn't fair, because Jihoon wants to comfort Taeil, who sounds so upset. But Jihoon is the one being pranked, the one whose heart feels like it's tearing in his chest. He tries to hang on to his anger to give himself some focus but it's slipping away so quickly his knees feel wobbly. Taeil looks so small in front of him, shoulders hunched over, but he's not moving, not taking back any of his words.
"It's a joke," Jihoon says weakly. It is. It almost has to be, now. Just say it.
But Taeil just shakes his head, still staring determinedly at his shoes.
"You like me?" He can't believe it. His head is starting to spin quickly. "Like, you want to go on a date with me?"
Taeil looks up-- not quite to his face, but somewhere around his shoulders-- and nods. Jihoon can't tell if the pang in his chest is pain or hope, guessing it's probably somewhere between the two.
A hot tear drops down one cheek and oh, fuck, now that he's started he won't stop. He reaches up and quickly wipes it away, but there are more coming on both sides, spilling out of his eyes now that the real upset is over.
He's hoping, somehow, that Taeil won't see, won't see this pathetic, humiliating response to his confession, but Taeil is standing less than a foot in front of him. He's going to take back his confession, and Jihoon will be even more of an idiot than before.
The thought makes the tears come harder and that's really not what he wants. He tries to stem the tide, shoving his glasses out of the way and trying to stopgap with his palms against his eyes, but the upset of the last two days is rising quickly to the surface and he can't stop. His heart feels like a hot, heavy weight in his chest and he's overaware of every second that passes, thinking that Taeil is going to leave.
A tentative hand lands on his shoulder, pressing down lightly right where Taeil was looking when he nodded. It calms him just a little, enough to get his tears under control, and he's sad when he wipes off his face and looks through blurry eyes at Taeil that Taeil drops it.
"I'm sorry," he says, voice wrecked by crying.
Taeil shakes his head, looking upset. "Don't be sorry. I'm the one who--" a little frown presses at his lips when he meets Jihoon's eyes, "who made you cry."
"No!" Jihoon reaches out and grasps Taeil's shoulders, only belatedly realizing his hands are covered in tears and probably making his jacket wet. He wants to let go but Taeil is looking up at him hopefully and he can't. "It's not because of you. It's because I thought you were making fun of me. That it was a joke."
"Why would I joke about it?" Taeil asks, but he doesn't give Jihoon enough time to respond. "I want-- I do like you, and I want to go on a date with you." He looks up at Jihoon and he seems so hopeful it hurts. "Do you want to go out with me?"
Jihoon can barely manage to say, "Yes," without his voice wobbling again. His whole body hurts and his eyes are stinging but there's an easy warmth spreading through his chest like something good is going to happen, for once. He can barely believe it but it's happening.
Taeil reaches up and wipes off his cheeks with two small, careful hands. His backpack is somewhere on the floor between their feet, but Jihoon doesn't care. It should be awkward to have someone he barely knows wipe his face from tears, but there's something immensely comforting about Taeil's hands, the soft and measured way he uses them. Jihoon's eyes fall shut as Taeil touches his face, and when Taeil presses closer he wonders if this is it, if this is going to be his first kiss.
Wildly, he hopes not-- not while he's still so upset, face hot and pained from the tears. He doesn't have a lot of requirements for his first kiss but this-- it shouldn't be now. But Taeil just brushes lightly over his lips with one of his thumbs and then pats on Jihoon's chest with one hand to open up his eyes.
He seems more awkward now that Jihoon has stopped crying and is almost all better.
"So, would you be free maybe tomorrow? Or Friday?" Taeil asks, and Jihoon scrubs a hand through the side of his hair while he tries to recover himself.
"Friday, I'm free, I think," he says, not sure if he really is, but he knows he'll make himself so if need be.
"Okay, let's go out then," Taeil says, and there's only the barest hint of a shake to his voice now. They exchange phone numbers and Kakao IDs, Jihoon sending him a funny little emoticon as soon as Taeil's ID shows up, glad when Taeil laughs a little at it.
He's grabbed his backpack again before he looks up at Jihoon. "Do you need the room for anything else?"
"No, I was just supposed to meet Jiho here earlier but he's probably not coming by now."
Taeil hmms and then directs him out the door. They walk down to the school gate together, back to their lighter chatter from before the big upset. It's all so devastatingly normal that Jihoon can barely remember why his chest still hurts and his cheeks are raw in the cold winter air. All of the heavy emotions seem to have been left in the A/V room, which Jihoon is grateful for. The cold air seems to revive him and he's glad when he's made Taeil laugh outright before they reach the gate and say their goodbyes.
Jihoon almost wants to hug him, but he's too shy and all he can do is walk backwards and wave as Taeil walks in the opposite direction, smiling and waving back.
--
Taeil does kiss him, though, later.
They're walking through Hongdae and all of the shops are starting to light up as the sun goes down over the hill. It's not so crowded, as couples push towards the restaurants and cafes nearby, too affected by the dropping temperature and icy streets to want to stay outside long.
Jihoon is laughing, he can't remember why, but Taeil grabs the wrist of his jacket and pulls him into a little side street. There's the entrance to a noraebang on the corner, but the rest of the street is quite dark and empty and at first Jihoon doesn't understand.
Taeil is smiling as he reaches up and grabs at Jihoon's new hat, the one with the two bobbles on the top that Taeil himself had branded 'cute'. Jihoon thinks he's going to take it off, and switch it with Taeil's new hat (red, with a massive bobble on top that Jihoon had chose), so he leans down slightly to make it easier for his hyung.
Instead, Taeil wraps a hand around the back of his neck, fingers curling into the warm space between Jihoon's scarf and skin. There's something in the expression on his face, a brief seriousness, that makes Jihoon's heart leap towards his throat because it seems obvious what he's about to do, so obvious. And Jihoon isn't prepared, doesn't know how to do this at all, but here is Taeil, arching up towards him and Jihoon can't turn away now for all his heartbeat starting to fill up his ears.
Taeil must notice Jihoon's hesitation, however brief, because he pauses barely an inch away, eyes flickering over Jihoon's face.
Anticipation crawls over Jihoon's skin like an electric charge, and he can't wait for Taeil to make a decision, especially one that might involve him moving further away from Jihoon. So he dips his head further, until he can feel the heat of Taeil's skin over his cheeks. He closes his eyes and their lips brush.
It's not what he thought it was, softer and more sweet than he's seen in the movies, and he has absolutely no idea what he's doing but it's nice; kind of weird in its novelty but good. Great. Taeil guides him, other hand coming up to cup his flaming cheek as he draws them closer together, until all that Jihoon can smell is the warm spice of Taeil's skin and the wool of his scarf.
He's never going to be able to look at winter clothes the same way again, not with the way his heart is attempting to beat out of his chest and some soft, hot emotion is filling his skin.
Taeil pulls away, though not far, and Jihoon is pleased to see that his cheeks are flushed. His lips, too, are darker pink and glimmering slightly in the lights from the street.
"Wow," Jihoon says, laughing a little in an overflow of that emotion, his mind buzzed and warm. Taeil smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners and it's cute.
He's so cute and Jihoon wants to kiss him again, but he knows it isn't the right place.
"It was good, then?" Taeil asks, ducking his head a little in embarrassment.
Jihoon's mind has evolved from warmth to a series of exclamation points, so all he can do is wrap his arms around Taeil's shoulders and pull him in. He might squish Taeil a little too hard, though, because Taeil quiet laughter cuts off in a huff and Jihoon pulls back to smile at him.
"We should do that again," Jihoon says, feeling his face flush with a new wave of heat. "Uh, later. Definitely later."
Taeil's bashful smile spreads across his face. "Okay, definitely," he says in a small voice, before wrapping one hand around Jihoon's wrist and pulling him back towards the street.
--
Jiho does, in fact, have a lot to do with Taeil and him getting together, Kyung informs him later. Apparently, he was the one who heard Taeil mention his crush on Jihoon and encouraged him to confess.
"He basically badgered me into it," Taeil says one day during lunch, the wind over the top of the school roof blowing his hair over his face. Jihoon reaches over and brushes it away from his eyes, secure that no one else is up here at this time.
Taeil smiles at him. "I didn't think you would want to go out with me, or even talk to me, but he kind of insisted. He even got Mino to tape the letter in your locker, so there wouldn't be any suspicious talk about me in your classroom."
"Mino!" Jihoon yells, feeling betrayed by his entire friend group. He's not entirely mad, though. Not anymore. "Was everyone else involved, too?"
Taeil's laughter is lost in the wind. "I think so, at most points. You know when you came in the A/V room the next day?"
Jihoon frowns, trying to remember. "Because Jiho-hyung said he'd meet me there?"
"Yeah, actually," Taeil dips his head, "Jiho said he would meet me there, too."
Jihoon wants to laugh but he makes himself growl out something vaguely threatening to Jiho's existence. It is embarrassing to basically be thrown in a room together with his crush, but he can't expect anything better from Woo Jiho and his band of merry troublemakers.
"It's not so bad, is it?" Taeil asks, leaning up against him. Jihoon looks over and tries to keep his annoyed expression on, but it's impossible.
Instead, he leans in and kisses Taeil lightly on the lips, pulling away before he has time to object (not that he ever has). He smiles at the blush spreading over Taeil's cheeks, something that hasn't changed much in the several months they've been together like this.
That soft, hot emotion that he could barely recognize in February has taken up permanent residence in his skin, and he knows it's affection, or even love (though he can't say it yet).
"No, it's great."
END
A/N: I HAVE DIED FROM FLUFFY FEELS GOODBYE