With Friends Like These (18/?)
Title: With Friends Like These (18/?)
Author: himawarixxsandz
Pairings: JoonHo, JongKey, DooSeob, KiWoon, JunSeung, minor!2Min, minor!JongKi (Jonghun/Hongki), minor!YongSeo
Rating: PG-13
Summary: High school is hell, unless you have friends like these.
A/N: HUZZAH. Right? LOL, sorry to everyone for like the millenium-long wait for this. But as most of you know, I've been sidetracked tons, and the WFLT muse hasn't been kind to me. The Taxi Muse is another story. And it's summer now for me, but that's not helping much since I still have lots of summer classes and summer homework. Soon, I'll pretty much only have time to write on Wednesdays, Fridays, and weekends, and even that time is cut down by homework and, erm, sleep. Which is something I'm supposed to have lots of during summer break, but that's not really happening anymore, LOL. Plus, I have to cut down even more hours because I have to learn how to drive insert stereotypical Azn joke. Anyway, this is a short chapter, but I think there's a lot of plot movement with JoonHo and JunSeung. But I'm thinking that the biggest plot move I'm going to have to make soon is JongKey's. They're about riping up.
Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 // Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 // Chapter 19
There are a lot of bad things in this world, Hyunseung knows. And he knows that it’s impossible to go through life without experiencing your fair share of the bad things in this world. He just wishes that you had a list of the bad things available to you during certain times and places in your lifetime so you can pick the bad things you would like to happen to you to fill your life’s quota of worldly bad things-because while you might think getting hit on the head with an apple is quite terrifying, someone else might prefer getting hit on the head with an apple.
Hyunseung does not, however, know of anyone who would, as one of the bad things on their quota list, prefer being stuck with Yoon Doojoon after school in the conference room supposedly helping out with try-out plans. The worst part about this particular bad thing was that it wasn’t even supposed to be on Hyunseung’s bad-things-quota-lifetime-list. It was originally on Yang Yoseob’s, except Yang Yoseob decided to hide somewhere in the math hallway below the conference room (most likely in a locker) and because Doojoon’s finding skills sucked, Hyunseung-as second oldest-was dragged from his eighth period class in place of the missing co-captain.
Yeah.
He knows.
His life sucks.
“I hate you,” Doojoon says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “so much right now.”
“Because I love you,” Hyunseung says back, “you know, because you kidnapped me and locked me in here and now my driver has to pick up Geurim first which means I won’t get picked up until five. Thanks.”
Doojoon doesn’t look like he cares very much-the captain glares balefully across the table at Hyunseung and taps the surface with his palm. “Look, if there was anyone else available, I’d take them, but as it is, after co-captain comes second oldest and take it up with coach-hyung if you don’t like the athletic hierarchy.”
“Why not Yonghwa? He’s boring and nerdy too.”
“Yonghwa’s not on the soccer team, Hyunseung-ah.”
“So? You’re not in the music department.” And Hyunseung finishes his twenty-third paper star and tries to flick it towards Doojoon’s forehead. He looks up and finds Doojoon staring at him in disbelief-kind of like the look that Jonghyun got that one time when he came running to their table last year with an eighty-five on a test.
Doojoon rubs his hand over his face and sighs. “Yang Yoseob,” he says, voice muffled against his palm, “where the fuck are you?”
“I don’t think he can hear you from here,” Hyunseung says and gathers his paper stars into a little mountain.
The thud of Doojoon’s face meeting the table is audible.
It harmonizes pretty well with the long beep of the PA announcing that Yoon Doojoon, if he is still at school, is needed right away at the Center Office. The captain’s head flips up immediately, listening intently at the directions and Hyunseung listens intently at the voice of his savior.
Doojoon stands up and frowns at Hyunseung as though he was the one that orchestrated his own rescuing. “You’d better still be here when I come back,” Doojoon says suspiciously and Hyunseung wonders if it’s mean to shove his stars into the captain’s eyes.
“What if you take, like, until six?” Hyunseung asks. “You don’t know what they want.”
“I just-don’t run away,” Doojoon almost pleads. “I seriously need another person here to get this done before the end of the week.”
Hyunseung sighs. “Fine,” and he watches the captain sling over his backpack and leave through the left entrance of the conference room-
Just as Yang Yoseob comes in through the back.
The left door barely has time to click before Yoseob’s taken a seat across from Hyunseung and raises his eyebrows calmly at Hyunseung’s indignant sputtering-not quite up to Lee-Joon-level, but something around that caliber. Yoseob grins and takes the stars from Hyunseung, putting them side by side in different sized circles. “I was in one of the geometry classrooms,” he says, “because the cabinets are pretty big in those.”
Hyunseung looks at him glumly. “Do you mind if I kill Doojoonie?”
“No,” Yoseob shrugs. “Not really, hyung.” Then he grins sheepishly, “I didn’t know he’d go to second oldest and make you suffer instead-I honestly thought he’d just give up and have coach-hyung help him or something.”
“Me too,” Hyunseung says morosely, thinking of the torturous hour he’s just lived through, taking his eyes off of the triangle that Yoseob’s arranged the stars into. He takes his eyes off the triangle and looks up-he tries to stop himself from sighing.
Doojoon’s told the entire team the day that they got back that Yoseob can continue practice as usual, can play as usual, and aside from a few bruises here and there, nothing’s wrong with him. Doojoon’s told them that, but it still doesn’t mean that every time Hyunseung looks at Yoseob-every time any of them look at Yoseob-it doesn’t mean that Hyunseung finds it easy to stop wanting to ask Doojoon for who did this to the goalie.
He doesn’t need much, really-a name is more than enough.
Hyunseung could probably even find him with just his family name.
He wonders how Doojoon can stand to look at Yoseob every day, look at the purple and black in full bloom against the goalie’s pale cheek, and be perfectly fine knowing that the person who did that to Yoseob is still out there somewhere-and not pulped and bloodied and in a little metal box. He wonders because he doesn’t think that he’d be able to be this calm if it were Junhyung.
“So,” Yoseob says, sliding Hyunseung back the stars, “how’s Junhyung-hyung these days?”
Hyunseung stares down at the table-he wipes his palms on the surface, rubbing off the sweat that’s started to gather there for reasons he doesn’t want to think about. “I mean,” he doesn’t understand why his voice is so quiet all of a sudden-doesn’t understand why suddenly he isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say. “He-we-I mean-talked a little. About-you know-stuff.”
Yoseob nods thoughtfully, watching him intently, chin resting in his palm, fingers drumming lightly over his bruised skin. “Cool. You guys are going to hang out sometime soon, right?”
“Um,” Hyunseung opens his mouth-closes it, bites his lip.
In all truthfulness, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how to answer that question because he doesn’t know. After whatever-the-fuck-that-was-supposed-to-be happened with Junhyung a few days ago, Hyunseung hasn’t had much (hasn’t had any) contact with the other boy since. He walked away, trying not to look back, and doesn’t know if Junhyung understood this as Hyunseung being confused as fuck or if Junhyung took this as Hyunseung being a bitch.
Which, well, is probably more likely.
It’s even worse now, Hyunseung thinks. It’s even worse now because it’s different from last time-Yoseob is actually really hurt right now. He’s hurt enough that Doojoon will sometimes let him have off days during practice even though it usually takes Dongwoon and Junhyung combined to hold him off the field. Yoseob is hurt and Junhyung hasn’t seen Yoseob-was probably worried sick about Yoseob-hasn’t seen the goalie since before winter vacation.
And now Junhyung has to stave off hanging out with the goalie even longer and deal with Hyunseung’s ridiculousness.
Fair to Junhyung?
Yeah, not really.
Is Hyunseung a douchebag?
Yeah-like a lot.
“I-he-he told me he wants to hang out with you this weekend,” Hyunseung lies because it’s not fair to Junhyung. It’s not fair to Junhyung, and it’s not fair to Yoseob either. “Or after exams, I guess.” It’s okay. Hyunseung is okay. Hyunseung is okay with this because he knows he’s made Junhyung hurt-he doesn’t want to do that anymore.
Yoseob stares blankly at the older boy. “What?” First there’s blankness and then for some reason there is confusion. “Wait-what-really? Are you sure that’s what he said?”
No. That’s not what Junhyung said at all. But Hyunseung is sure that’s what Junhyung was thinking. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m sure.”
The younger boy doesn’t look convinced-at all. If anything, the confusion on his face is doubled and now there’s concern in addition to that. There’s concern in addition to that and Hyunseung doesn’t understand why-he doesn’t understand because isn’t this the way things are supposed to go? Unless maybe Hyunseung got it wrong and these days Junhyung is hanging out more with Hongki than Yoseob. In that case, Hyunseung should probably drop by the music room-or tell Yonghwa to pass the message-or text Hongki. Or something.
Hyunseung is done trying to monopolize Junhyung just to make himself feel good enough. He’s done with telling himself that if Junhyung really wants to hang out with him, then the younger boy will forego being with his other friends-his better, more important friends-just to be with Hyunseung. It’s a fucked up way of thinking and Hyunseung doesn’t want to hurt Junhyung like that anymore. He doesn’t want to hurt Junhyung or Yoseob or Hongki like that anymore.
“But, hyung,” Yoseob says, and the confusion on his face is starting to evolve into suspicion, “Junhyung-hyung told me that-”
The double doors to the conference room suddenly burst open, and Doojoon fumes through them like Moses parting the Red Sea. Yoseob’s expression is properly fuck-me-now and not in the way that would make Hyunseung a voyeur. Hyunseung stands up and starts to edge around the table and towards the door now that Doojoon has properly locked in his target, looking clearly irate and relieved at the same time that Yoseob at least hadn’t gone home or something.
“You are the worst,” Doojoon says, taking the seat that Hyunseung has just emptied, “co-captain ever.”
Hyunseung slings his backpack over his shoulders.
“Nah,” Yoseob says, fiddling with the paper stars and clearly trying to downplay how actually nervous he is because Doojoon seems sort-of-kind-of-honestly mad right now and Hyunseung tries to make his beeline toward the exit as discreet as possible. “Taecyeon-hyung was pretty bad, too.”
“Taecyeon-hyung,” Doojoon says, leaning forward, elbows on the table and eyes narrowing, “never played hide-and-seek with Jaebum-hyung for an hour and a half while they were trying to plan tryouts.”
Hyunseung feels like Taecyeon probably wouldn’t be able to fit anywhere to keep up hide-and-seek for more than a few minutes, but he decides against telling Doojoon that. He leaves the conference room and wagers that Yoseob probably has the highest chance of surviving in that room with Doojoon anyway.
“You could just, you know,” Jinwoon says, toweling his hair dry, and taking a seat on one of the benches, “ask Kibummie about it. I don’t get why you can’t just do that-it’s like the easiest way to go.” He drops his towel to the side and pulls a clean t-shirt over his head.
Dongwoon finishes drying his own hair and slings his towel around his neck, stretching his arms out a little bit more after the weight room-he probably should’ve used warmer water to ease out his muscles. “Right,” he says, “right-getting made fun of Kibummie, being in debt to Kibummie, having Kibummie know the details of my sex life-right, definitely the easiest way to go.”
Jinwoon looks at him dubiously. “Well, at least you’d have a sex life for him to know the details of.”
The soccer player throws his towel in Jinwoon’s face.
“Okay,” Jinwoon says after Dongwoon’s towel slides off of his head, “okay, what if you talk to Kikwang-hyung about it? What if-like-it turns out he’s already done it before so he can guide you through it or something?” He pauses. “Why am I talking about homo sex with you?”
“Because that’s the only kind of sex you’ll ever get to talk about,” Dongwoon says. “Considering how productive your whirlwind love affair with ‘Cole’s been.”
“I hate you.”
“Yeah-well.” Dongwoon pushes his feet through his jeans. “And anyway, I doubt Kikwangie-hyung’s done it before. He’s never gone out with anyone until now.”
Jinwoon snorts and grins, putting on socks. “You’re such a kid.”
Dongwoon glances at him.
“You really think that someone like Kikwang-hyung, y’know, hangs out with Lee Hongki and Lee Joon and Kim Jonghyun-you really think that someone like him has to go out with someone to get some?” Jinwoon asks, giving him a significant look-complete with waving eyebrows and pursed lips.
Dongwoon stares. “What?”
He feels like maybe this is the cue to start panicking.
He feels like maybe this is the cue to start panicking because in the most-very-probably-likely case that Kikwang has had sex before and has had it with Hongki or Joon or Jonghyun or any acquaintance of those three, there will be absolutely no hope left of saving himself from great, humongous first-time-humiliation because even Dongwoon’s little man knows that there is no measuring up possible to those three. Even Dongwoon’s little man is starting to twiddle his thumbs in worry.
“But,” Jinwoon says, straightening up after he ties on his shoes and pats Dongwoon on the back, “I’m sure Kikwang-hyung loves you enough not to care if you don’t know how to bone him-or if you suck at it.” He opens his locker and takes out his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders.
The little man starts to de-petal flowers. “Thanks, man,” Dongwoon says. “That really-you know-gets my confidence going.”
“No, I mean, it’s not like-” Jinwoon stops and turns at the sound of the door to the locker rooms opening. He exchanges glances with Dongwoon, waiting to see if it’s someone they know so they can continue their conversation, or if it’s someone they don’t and they have to finish changing in silence.
It’s someone they know.
It’s two someones that they know, and as soon as those two someones make themselves visible, Dongwoon wishes that it’d turned out to be someones that they didn’t know instead.
It’s Doojoon carrying Yoseob on his back, making it more than clear from the way that Yoseob’s clothes are haphazardly on him, perspiration on both their faces, Doojoon’s uniform pants unzipped and unbuttoned, what activities the captain and co-captain were previously just engaged in. But the biggest, most obvious clue as to their previous engagements would most likely be the fact that a pair of black boxer briefs is hanging from Doojoon’s elbow.
And since Doojoon’s pants are undone with the blue, striped elastic in full view, Dongwoon wagers that the black pair is Yoseob’s.
The little man suddenly starts trying his best to steer his telescope towards Yoseob’s back out of pure frustration of Dongwoon’s inability to do anything fruitful with Kikwang. Dongwoon manages to break the telescope in half on his knee before his captain kills him-although he thinks that maybe he should’ve just let Doojoon kill him because at least the little man would be dead and Dongwoon’s misery would have ended.
Jinwoon looks horrified.
“Hey, guys,” Doojoon says, and lets Yoseob down on the same bench Jinwoon was sitting on three seconds ago. The goalie slumps forward, exhausted and boneless. Dongwoon looks at Yoseob warily, only he guesses that it came off as worry because Doojoon catches him staring, and snorts, “Ignore him. It’s his own fault he’s that fucking tired.”
“I thought you guys were-um-working on the tryout plans,” Dongwoon says as Jinwoon starts fanning himself with a notebook, most likely trying to cool off the stress that comes from this kind of trauma.
“We were,” Doojoon says as Yoseob kicks Dongwoon’s clothes and bags off the bench so the goalie can lie down completely, chest heaving up and down and eyes closed. “But we decided to take a five minute break and Yoseob rode me too hard so it turned into a fifty minute break. And now we can’t work at all because coach came in and told us that the conference room was closing.” He pauses, frowning, “The janitors go in there before school opens tomorrow right? Or is it tonight that they clean up?”
Jinwoon coughs-multiple times-and loudly.
“Hyung,” Dongwoon says in a hushed voice, “the teachers have lunch on that table.”
“Did you just say that Yoseob-hyung rode you too hard?” Jinwoon asks and looks like he is about to cry.
Doojoon shakes his left arm and lets the boxer briefs slide off. He scrunches it up in his hand and tucks it into his back pocket. “Yeah,” he says briskly. “That’s why he’s too sore to even wear underwear-idiot.”
“Shut up,” Yoseob breathes, one arm over his eyes, shielding from the fluorescent lights. “It’s your fault-I’ve been studying because you told me to and it’s been like a week since we’ve had sex.”
“It definitely hasn’t been a week,” Doojoon says exasperatedly from one of the sinks, soaking paper towels in cold water. He walks past Jinwoon and Dongwoon, back to the bench, kneeling in front of it and pulling Yoseob up into a sitting position. Yoseob glowers down at the captain as the older boy holds back the goalie’s bangs and pats the sweat from his face with the folded, wet paper towel.
The little man prods Dongwoon just then and points out that Yoseob can’t even go a week without sex and Dongwoon’s gone years without it so what the fuck is wrong with the maknae? The little man is waving his arms frantically, whistle in his mouth, signs in his hands, to get Dongwoon’s attention, pointing every which way spastically at Doojoon and Yoseob and how this is what Dongwoon’s sex life is supposed to look like because right now his sex life is nonexistent.
Dongwoon tells the little man that Doojoon and Yoseob are extraterrestrials when it comes to sex and no human should ever aim to be like them.
The little man tells Dongwoon that he’s probably just afraid that he can’t measure up to the triangle of sex that is Hongki, Jonghyun, and Joon.
Dongwoon pushes the little man head first into a tree.
When Joon bumps into Mir for the sixth time, and this time, causes the maknae to bump into Cheondoong which causes the pseudo-maknae to trip over a smaller hurdle and knock over the bigger hurdle after it because of his unreasonably unreasonable height, Joon thinks that maybe this is a sign that he’s a little worried about Seungho. He takes it maybe as a sign that he’s worried about the fact that Seungho not only has looked under the weather (like, ten-thousand-leagues-under-the-sea under the weather, since the teacher’s usual state of being is normal people’s under-the-weather) the past few days, but looks just about ready for a bolt of lightning to strike him to the ground any moment right now.
“Hyung,” Mir says, sidestepping around the scene of Cheondoong’s accident, “if you’re worried, just go and ask him what’s wrong. Even Byunghee-hyung looks worried, which means he doesn’t know anything either. It’d probably make everyone a lot safer if you ask.” He gives an indicative glance behind them to how Cheondoong is still trying to untangle his long legs from the hurdles.
They jog a little in silence, while Joon thinks.
“Hyung,” Mir says again, this time with maknae-worry, “hyung, you’re quiet. You’re being quiet, hyung. This is bad.”
Joon doesn’t really hear him. Joon isn’t sure he really sees Mir either-which is probably why he’s rammed into his dongsaengs ten times in the last five minutes. He doesn’t really see or hear them because all he’s seeing and hearing are the rumors, the faces, the voices of other students in the halls for the past week. All he can think about are the rumors and how he hasn’t even been able to find time to verify them, to talk them over with Seungho, because of midterm studying and because Seungho has been in constant talks with Choi Insu and his parents and the students in that class, on that day, during that period.
On that day, during that period, concerning a situation that-if the rumors are true-Joon probably caused.
He probably caused it, if the rumors are true, and it’s probably Joon’s fault-Joon’s fault that Seungho has to go through this, has to have his job in danger, has to talk over and over again with Choi Insu’s family. And Choi Insu, after Mir and Dongwoon had expressed their personal opinions, sounded like the kind of boy who would get into a fight with Jonghyun within two minutes of a first meeting, and then beat up by Doojoon and Junhyung after the first five.
Joon finishes his warm-up laps and while Mir and Cheondoong swerve off to the side to do their stretching, he walks as casually as he can to where Seungho sits on the bleachers, legs apart, elbows on his knees, hands folded, eyes to the ground. He walks as casually as he can and sits on the ground in front of the teacher as casually as he can. He waits for a moment-for Seungho to notice, for Seungho to look at him-or even for Seungho to ignore him, for Seungho to wordlessly let him know that he wants to be alone right now.
He waits.
He waits-
“You should go stretch,” Seungho’s shoulders go up and down slightly with a breath as he turns his eyes to Joon-he turns his eyes and Joon tries not to react when he sees the extent of the shadows that frame them. “Byunghee has a lot for you guys to do today.”
Joon wants to apologize-he thinks he should apologize. He thinks that if it weren’t for him-if it weren’t for the stupidity that he’s always made fun of for but he’s never been bothered by until now-if it weren’t for him, maybe Seungho wouldn’t be going through this right now. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t even know if Seungho will take him seriously-he doesn’t even know if Seungho will accept it or at least not ignore it because an apology is useless anyway to an adult like Seungho.
It’s useless, but Joon still wants to do it anyway.
He knows it’s stupid-
But he’s Joon.
So he’s allowed to be stupid, right?
Joon stands up and tries to ignore the odd itch that’s suddenly in his chest-probably because of the heater adjustments they had to do in the indoor fields-apparently, Dongwoon has been complaining to Doojoon about lowering the temperature because Kikwang has taken to stripping at random intervals during their practice.
Doojoon told Joon that it was probably just sexual frustration and let the custodians take the heat up another five degrees.
He stands up, wiping his hands on the edge of his wifebeater, and hopes that this isn’t going too far-prays to God that this isn’t running too close to the edge-he hopes that this isn’t inappropriate and lightly tips Seungho’s chin up-a swift touch, barely a second of contact, just to get the teacher’s eyes meeting Joon’s.
Just to get Seungho to look at him.
Seungho does-he does. He looks up, a little surprised, tiredness trying its best to hide from Joon, trying to play a complex round of hide-and-seek except that Joon’s going to win even if Seungho makes him count until a million because Joon can still see it. Joon can still see it even if Seungho hides it at the ends of the earth. He can still see it because he’s the one who caused it and he’s-
“Sorry,” Joon says with a sad smile. “I probably really should’ve found something better to do during lunch, I guess. Sorry, hyung.” He squeezes Seungho’s arm lightly and goes off to stretch.
He thinks that maybe he’ll find Junhyung after practice.
Author: himawarixxsandz
Pairings: JoonHo, JongKey, DooSeob, KiWoon, JunSeung, minor!2Min, minor!JongKi (Jonghun/Hongki), minor!YongSeo
Rating: PG-13
Summary: High school is hell, unless you have friends like these.
A/N: HUZZAH. Right? LOL, sorry to everyone for like the millenium-long wait for this. But as most of you know, I've been sidetracked tons, and the WFLT muse hasn't been kind to me. The Taxi Muse is another story. And it's summer now for me, but that's not helping much since I still have lots of summer classes and summer homework. Soon, I'll pretty much only have time to write on Wednesdays, Fridays, and weekends, and even that time is cut down by homework and, erm, sleep. Which is something I'm supposed to have lots of during summer break, but that's not really happening anymore, LOL. Plus, I have to cut down even more hours because I have to learn how to drive insert stereotypical Azn joke. Anyway, this is a short chapter, but I think there's a lot of plot movement with JoonHo and JunSeung. But I'm thinking that the biggest plot move I'm going to have to make soon is JongKey's. They're about riping up.
Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 // Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 // Chapter 19
There are a lot of bad things in this world, Hyunseung knows. And he knows that it’s impossible to go through life without experiencing your fair share of the bad things in this world. He just wishes that you had a list of the bad things available to you during certain times and places in your lifetime so you can pick the bad things you would like to happen to you to fill your life’s quota of worldly bad things-because while you might think getting hit on the head with an apple is quite terrifying, someone else might prefer getting hit on the head with an apple.
Hyunseung does not, however, know of anyone who would, as one of the bad things on their quota list, prefer being stuck with Yoon Doojoon after school in the conference room supposedly helping out with try-out plans. The worst part about this particular bad thing was that it wasn’t even supposed to be on Hyunseung’s bad-things-quota-lifetime-list. It was originally on Yang Yoseob’s, except Yang Yoseob decided to hide somewhere in the math hallway below the conference room (most likely in a locker) and because Doojoon’s finding skills sucked, Hyunseung-as second oldest-was dragged from his eighth period class in place of the missing co-captain.
Yeah.
He knows.
His life sucks.
“I hate you,” Doojoon says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “so much right now.”
“Because I love you,” Hyunseung says back, “you know, because you kidnapped me and locked me in here and now my driver has to pick up Geurim first which means I won’t get picked up until five. Thanks.”
Doojoon doesn’t look like he cares very much-the captain glares balefully across the table at Hyunseung and taps the surface with his palm. “Look, if there was anyone else available, I’d take them, but as it is, after co-captain comes second oldest and take it up with coach-hyung if you don’t like the athletic hierarchy.”
“Why not Yonghwa? He’s boring and nerdy too.”
“Yonghwa’s not on the soccer team, Hyunseung-ah.”
“So? You’re not in the music department.” And Hyunseung finishes his twenty-third paper star and tries to flick it towards Doojoon’s forehead. He looks up and finds Doojoon staring at him in disbelief-kind of like the look that Jonghyun got that one time when he came running to their table last year with an eighty-five on a test.
Doojoon rubs his hand over his face and sighs. “Yang Yoseob,” he says, voice muffled against his palm, “where the fuck are you?”
“I don’t think he can hear you from here,” Hyunseung says and gathers his paper stars into a little mountain.
The thud of Doojoon’s face meeting the table is audible.
It harmonizes pretty well with the long beep of the PA announcing that Yoon Doojoon, if he is still at school, is needed right away at the Center Office. The captain’s head flips up immediately, listening intently at the directions and Hyunseung listens intently at the voice of his savior.
Doojoon stands up and frowns at Hyunseung as though he was the one that orchestrated his own rescuing. “You’d better still be here when I come back,” Doojoon says suspiciously and Hyunseung wonders if it’s mean to shove his stars into the captain’s eyes.
“What if you take, like, until six?” Hyunseung asks. “You don’t know what they want.”
“I just-don’t run away,” Doojoon almost pleads. “I seriously need another person here to get this done before the end of the week.”
Hyunseung sighs. “Fine,” and he watches the captain sling over his backpack and leave through the left entrance of the conference room-
Just as Yang Yoseob comes in through the back.
The left door barely has time to click before Yoseob’s taken a seat across from Hyunseung and raises his eyebrows calmly at Hyunseung’s indignant sputtering-not quite up to Lee-Joon-level, but something around that caliber. Yoseob grins and takes the stars from Hyunseung, putting them side by side in different sized circles. “I was in one of the geometry classrooms,” he says, “because the cabinets are pretty big in those.”
Hyunseung looks at him glumly. “Do you mind if I kill Doojoonie?”
“No,” Yoseob shrugs. “Not really, hyung.” Then he grins sheepishly, “I didn’t know he’d go to second oldest and make you suffer instead-I honestly thought he’d just give up and have coach-hyung help him or something.”
“Me too,” Hyunseung says morosely, thinking of the torturous hour he’s just lived through, taking his eyes off of the triangle that Yoseob’s arranged the stars into. He takes his eyes off the triangle and looks up-he tries to stop himself from sighing.
Doojoon’s told the entire team the day that they got back that Yoseob can continue practice as usual, can play as usual, and aside from a few bruises here and there, nothing’s wrong with him. Doojoon’s told them that, but it still doesn’t mean that every time Hyunseung looks at Yoseob-every time any of them look at Yoseob-it doesn’t mean that Hyunseung finds it easy to stop wanting to ask Doojoon for who did this to the goalie.
He doesn’t need much, really-a name is more than enough.
Hyunseung could probably even find him with just his family name.
He wonders how Doojoon can stand to look at Yoseob every day, look at the purple and black in full bloom against the goalie’s pale cheek, and be perfectly fine knowing that the person who did that to Yoseob is still out there somewhere-and not pulped and bloodied and in a little metal box. He wonders because he doesn’t think that he’d be able to be this calm if it were Junhyung.
“So,” Yoseob says, sliding Hyunseung back the stars, “how’s Junhyung-hyung these days?”
Hyunseung stares down at the table-he wipes his palms on the surface, rubbing off the sweat that’s started to gather there for reasons he doesn’t want to think about. “I mean,” he doesn’t understand why his voice is so quiet all of a sudden-doesn’t understand why suddenly he isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say. “He-we-I mean-talked a little. About-you know-stuff.”
Yoseob nods thoughtfully, watching him intently, chin resting in his palm, fingers drumming lightly over his bruised skin. “Cool. You guys are going to hang out sometime soon, right?”
“Um,” Hyunseung opens his mouth-closes it, bites his lip.
In all truthfulness, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how to answer that question because he doesn’t know. After whatever-the-fuck-that-was-supposed-to-be happened with Junhyung a few days ago, Hyunseung hasn’t had much (hasn’t had any) contact with the other boy since. He walked away, trying not to look back, and doesn’t know if Junhyung understood this as Hyunseung being confused as fuck or if Junhyung took this as Hyunseung being a bitch.
Which, well, is probably more likely.
It’s even worse now, Hyunseung thinks. It’s even worse now because it’s different from last time-Yoseob is actually really hurt right now. He’s hurt enough that Doojoon will sometimes let him have off days during practice even though it usually takes Dongwoon and Junhyung combined to hold him off the field. Yoseob is hurt and Junhyung hasn’t seen Yoseob-was probably worried sick about Yoseob-hasn’t seen the goalie since before winter vacation.
And now Junhyung has to stave off hanging out with the goalie even longer and deal with Hyunseung’s ridiculousness.
Fair to Junhyung?
Yeah, not really.
Is Hyunseung a douchebag?
Yeah-like a lot.
“I-he-he told me he wants to hang out with you this weekend,” Hyunseung lies because it’s not fair to Junhyung. It’s not fair to Junhyung, and it’s not fair to Yoseob either. “Or after exams, I guess.” It’s okay. Hyunseung is okay. Hyunseung is okay with this because he knows he’s made Junhyung hurt-he doesn’t want to do that anymore.
Yoseob stares blankly at the older boy. “What?” First there’s blankness and then for some reason there is confusion. “Wait-what-really? Are you sure that’s what he said?”
No. That’s not what Junhyung said at all. But Hyunseung is sure that’s what Junhyung was thinking. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m sure.”
The younger boy doesn’t look convinced-at all. If anything, the confusion on his face is doubled and now there’s concern in addition to that. There’s concern in addition to that and Hyunseung doesn’t understand why-he doesn’t understand because isn’t this the way things are supposed to go? Unless maybe Hyunseung got it wrong and these days Junhyung is hanging out more with Hongki than Yoseob. In that case, Hyunseung should probably drop by the music room-or tell Yonghwa to pass the message-or text Hongki. Or something.
Hyunseung is done trying to monopolize Junhyung just to make himself feel good enough. He’s done with telling himself that if Junhyung really wants to hang out with him, then the younger boy will forego being with his other friends-his better, more important friends-just to be with Hyunseung. It’s a fucked up way of thinking and Hyunseung doesn’t want to hurt Junhyung like that anymore. He doesn’t want to hurt Junhyung or Yoseob or Hongki like that anymore.
“But, hyung,” Yoseob says, and the confusion on his face is starting to evolve into suspicion, “Junhyung-hyung told me that-”
The double doors to the conference room suddenly burst open, and Doojoon fumes through them like Moses parting the Red Sea. Yoseob’s expression is properly fuck-me-now and not in the way that would make Hyunseung a voyeur. Hyunseung stands up and starts to edge around the table and towards the door now that Doojoon has properly locked in his target, looking clearly irate and relieved at the same time that Yoseob at least hadn’t gone home or something.
“You are the worst,” Doojoon says, taking the seat that Hyunseung has just emptied, “co-captain ever.”
Hyunseung slings his backpack over his shoulders.
“Nah,” Yoseob says, fiddling with the paper stars and clearly trying to downplay how actually nervous he is because Doojoon seems sort-of-kind-of-honestly mad right now and Hyunseung tries to make his beeline toward the exit as discreet as possible. “Taecyeon-hyung was pretty bad, too.”
“Taecyeon-hyung,” Doojoon says, leaning forward, elbows on the table and eyes narrowing, “never played hide-and-seek with Jaebum-hyung for an hour and a half while they were trying to plan tryouts.”
Hyunseung feels like Taecyeon probably wouldn’t be able to fit anywhere to keep up hide-and-seek for more than a few minutes, but he decides against telling Doojoon that. He leaves the conference room and wagers that Yoseob probably has the highest chance of surviving in that room with Doojoon anyway.
“You could just, you know,” Jinwoon says, toweling his hair dry, and taking a seat on one of the benches, “ask Kibummie about it. I don’t get why you can’t just do that-it’s like the easiest way to go.” He drops his towel to the side and pulls a clean t-shirt over his head.
Dongwoon finishes drying his own hair and slings his towel around his neck, stretching his arms out a little bit more after the weight room-he probably should’ve used warmer water to ease out his muscles. “Right,” he says, “right-getting made fun of Kibummie, being in debt to Kibummie, having Kibummie know the details of my sex life-right, definitely the easiest way to go.”
Jinwoon looks at him dubiously. “Well, at least you’d have a sex life for him to know the details of.”
The soccer player throws his towel in Jinwoon’s face.
“Okay,” Jinwoon says after Dongwoon’s towel slides off of his head, “okay, what if you talk to Kikwang-hyung about it? What if-like-it turns out he’s already done it before so he can guide you through it or something?” He pauses. “Why am I talking about homo sex with you?”
“Because that’s the only kind of sex you’ll ever get to talk about,” Dongwoon says. “Considering how productive your whirlwind love affair with ‘Cole’s been.”
“I hate you.”
“Yeah-well.” Dongwoon pushes his feet through his jeans. “And anyway, I doubt Kikwangie-hyung’s done it before. He’s never gone out with anyone until now.”
Jinwoon snorts and grins, putting on socks. “You’re such a kid.”
Dongwoon glances at him.
“You really think that someone like Kikwang-hyung, y’know, hangs out with Lee Hongki and Lee Joon and Kim Jonghyun-you really think that someone like him has to go out with someone to get some?” Jinwoon asks, giving him a significant look-complete with waving eyebrows and pursed lips.
Dongwoon stares. “What?”
He feels like maybe this is the cue to start panicking.
He feels like maybe this is the cue to start panicking because in the most-very-probably-likely case that Kikwang has had sex before and has had it with Hongki or Joon or Jonghyun or any acquaintance of those three, there will be absolutely no hope left of saving himself from great, humongous first-time-humiliation because even Dongwoon’s little man knows that there is no measuring up possible to those three. Even Dongwoon’s little man is starting to twiddle his thumbs in worry.
“But,” Jinwoon says, straightening up after he ties on his shoes and pats Dongwoon on the back, “I’m sure Kikwang-hyung loves you enough not to care if you don’t know how to bone him-or if you suck at it.” He opens his locker and takes out his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders.
The little man starts to de-petal flowers. “Thanks, man,” Dongwoon says. “That really-you know-gets my confidence going.”
“No, I mean, it’s not like-” Jinwoon stops and turns at the sound of the door to the locker rooms opening. He exchanges glances with Dongwoon, waiting to see if it’s someone they know so they can continue their conversation, or if it’s someone they don’t and they have to finish changing in silence.
It’s someone they know.
It’s two someones that they know, and as soon as those two someones make themselves visible, Dongwoon wishes that it’d turned out to be someones that they didn’t know instead.
It’s Doojoon carrying Yoseob on his back, making it more than clear from the way that Yoseob’s clothes are haphazardly on him, perspiration on both their faces, Doojoon’s uniform pants unzipped and unbuttoned, what activities the captain and co-captain were previously just engaged in. But the biggest, most obvious clue as to their previous engagements would most likely be the fact that a pair of black boxer briefs is hanging from Doojoon’s elbow.
And since Doojoon’s pants are undone with the blue, striped elastic in full view, Dongwoon wagers that the black pair is Yoseob’s.
The little man suddenly starts trying his best to steer his telescope towards Yoseob’s back out of pure frustration of Dongwoon’s inability to do anything fruitful with Kikwang. Dongwoon manages to break the telescope in half on his knee before his captain kills him-although he thinks that maybe he should’ve just let Doojoon kill him because at least the little man would be dead and Dongwoon’s misery would have ended.
Jinwoon looks horrified.
“Hey, guys,” Doojoon says, and lets Yoseob down on the same bench Jinwoon was sitting on three seconds ago. The goalie slumps forward, exhausted and boneless. Dongwoon looks at Yoseob warily, only he guesses that it came off as worry because Doojoon catches him staring, and snorts, “Ignore him. It’s his own fault he’s that fucking tired.”
“I thought you guys were-um-working on the tryout plans,” Dongwoon says as Jinwoon starts fanning himself with a notebook, most likely trying to cool off the stress that comes from this kind of trauma.
“We were,” Doojoon says as Yoseob kicks Dongwoon’s clothes and bags off the bench so the goalie can lie down completely, chest heaving up and down and eyes closed. “But we decided to take a five minute break and Yoseob rode me too hard so it turned into a fifty minute break. And now we can’t work at all because coach came in and told us that the conference room was closing.” He pauses, frowning, “The janitors go in there before school opens tomorrow right? Or is it tonight that they clean up?”
Jinwoon coughs-multiple times-and loudly.
“Hyung,” Dongwoon says in a hushed voice, “the teachers have lunch on that table.”
“Did you just say that Yoseob-hyung rode you too hard?” Jinwoon asks and looks like he is about to cry.
Doojoon shakes his left arm and lets the boxer briefs slide off. He scrunches it up in his hand and tucks it into his back pocket. “Yeah,” he says briskly. “That’s why he’s too sore to even wear underwear-idiot.”
“Shut up,” Yoseob breathes, one arm over his eyes, shielding from the fluorescent lights. “It’s your fault-I’ve been studying because you told me to and it’s been like a week since we’ve had sex.”
“It definitely hasn’t been a week,” Doojoon says exasperatedly from one of the sinks, soaking paper towels in cold water. He walks past Jinwoon and Dongwoon, back to the bench, kneeling in front of it and pulling Yoseob up into a sitting position. Yoseob glowers down at the captain as the older boy holds back the goalie’s bangs and pats the sweat from his face with the folded, wet paper towel.
The little man prods Dongwoon just then and points out that Yoseob can’t even go a week without sex and Dongwoon’s gone years without it so what the fuck is wrong with the maknae? The little man is waving his arms frantically, whistle in his mouth, signs in his hands, to get Dongwoon’s attention, pointing every which way spastically at Doojoon and Yoseob and how this is what Dongwoon’s sex life is supposed to look like because right now his sex life is nonexistent.
Dongwoon tells the little man that Doojoon and Yoseob are extraterrestrials when it comes to sex and no human should ever aim to be like them.
The little man tells Dongwoon that he’s probably just afraid that he can’t measure up to the triangle of sex that is Hongki, Jonghyun, and Joon.
Dongwoon pushes the little man head first into a tree.
When Joon bumps into Mir for the sixth time, and this time, causes the maknae to bump into Cheondoong which causes the pseudo-maknae to trip over a smaller hurdle and knock over the bigger hurdle after it because of his unreasonably unreasonable height, Joon thinks that maybe this is a sign that he’s a little worried about Seungho. He takes it maybe as a sign that he’s worried about the fact that Seungho not only has looked under the weather (like, ten-thousand-leagues-under-the-sea under the weather, since the teacher’s usual state of being is normal people’s under-the-weather) the past few days, but looks just about ready for a bolt of lightning to strike him to the ground any moment right now.
“Hyung,” Mir says, sidestepping around the scene of Cheondoong’s accident, “if you’re worried, just go and ask him what’s wrong. Even Byunghee-hyung looks worried, which means he doesn’t know anything either. It’d probably make everyone a lot safer if you ask.” He gives an indicative glance behind them to how Cheondoong is still trying to untangle his long legs from the hurdles.
They jog a little in silence, while Joon thinks.
“Hyung,” Mir says again, this time with maknae-worry, “hyung, you’re quiet. You’re being quiet, hyung. This is bad.”
Joon doesn’t really hear him. Joon isn’t sure he really sees Mir either-which is probably why he’s rammed into his dongsaengs ten times in the last five minutes. He doesn’t really see or hear them because all he’s seeing and hearing are the rumors, the faces, the voices of other students in the halls for the past week. All he can think about are the rumors and how he hasn’t even been able to find time to verify them, to talk them over with Seungho, because of midterm studying and because Seungho has been in constant talks with Choi Insu and his parents and the students in that class, on that day, during that period.
On that day, during that period, concerning a situation that-if the rumors are true-Joon probably caused.
He probably caused it, if the rumors are true, and it’s probably Joon’s fault-Joon’s fault that Seungho has to go through this, has to have his job in danger, has to talk over and over again with Choi Insu’s family. And Choi Insu, after Mir and Dongwoon had expressed their personal opinions, sounded like the kind of boy who would get into a fight with Jonghyun within two minutes of a first meeting, and then beat up by Doojoon and Junhyung after the first five.
Joon finishes his warm-up laps and while Mir and Cheondoong swerve off to the side to do their stretching, he walks as casually as he can to where Seungho sits on the bleachers, legs apart, elbows on his knees, hands folded, eyes to the ground. He walks as casually as he can and sits on the ground in front of the teacher as casually as he can. He waits for a moment-for Seungho to notice, for Seungho to look at him-or even for Seungho to ignore him, for Seungho to wordlessly let him know that he wants to be alone right now.
He waits.
He waits-
“You should go stretch,” Seungho’s shoulders go up and down slightly with a breath as he turns his eyes to Joon-he turns his eyes and Joon tries not to react when he sees the extent of the shadows that frame them. “Byunghee has a lot for you guys to do today.”
Joon wants to apologize-he thinks he should apologize. He thinks that if it weren’t for him-if it weren’t for the stupidity that he’s always made fun of for but he’s never been bothered by until now-if it weren’t for him, maybe Seungho wouldn’t be going through this right now. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t even know if Seungho will take him seriously-he doesn’t even know if Seungho will accept it or at least not ignore it because an apology is useless anyway to an adult like Seungho.
It’s useless, but Joon still wants to do it anyway.
He knows it’s stupid-
But he’s Joon.
So he’s allowed to be stupid, right?
Joon stands up and tries to ignore the odd itch that’s suddenly in his chest-probably because of the heater adjustments they had to do in the indoor fields-apparently, Dongwoon has been complaining to Doojoon about lowering the temperature because Kikwang has taken to stripping at random intervals during their practice.
Doojoon told Joon that it was probably just sexual frustration and let the custodians take the heat up another five degrees.
He stands up, wiping his hands on the edge of his wifebeater, and hopes that this isn’t going too far-prays to God that this isn’t running too close to the edge-he hopes that this isn’t inappropriate and lightly tips Seungho’s chin up-a swift touch, barely a second of contact, just to get the teacher’s eyes meeting Joon’s.
Just to get Seungho to look at him.
Seungho does-he does. He looks up, a little surprised, tiredness trying its best to hide from Joon, trying to play a complex round of hide-and-seek except that Joon’s going to win even if Seungho makes him count until a million because Joon can still see it. Joon can still see it even if Seungho hides it at the ends of the earth. He can still see it because he’s the one who caused it and he’s-
“Sorry,” Joon says with a sad smile. “I probably really should’ve found something better to do during lunch, I guess. Sorry, hyung.” He squeezes Seungho’s arm lightly and goes off to stretch.
He thinks that maybe he’ll find Junhyung after practice.