three points into the last round
title: three points into the last round
pairing: ken/hongbin
rating: pg13
word count: 2,738 words
summary: If there’s one person Jaehwan can’t handle it’s the employee at the carnival who at first has it out to get him and is also sort of, maybe, a little cute.
notes: written for forvixx's 2015 summer fic exchange!
It's times like these when Jaehwan wishes he didn't pass his driver's test when he did, didn't buy a car before heading off to university, didn't drunkenly proclaim at his surprise birthday party taken place on campus that license-less Sanghyuk will always be his friend - his best friend (at the end of fresh age of twenty, Jaehwan clearly wasn't thinking straight but that could've been the vodka prepping him) - when all his hard work is going to be spent on laboring for said 'best' friend by taking him to work almost everyday for the rest of the summer. It's times like these that Jaehwan realizes he's picked the wrong person to be associated with, should have been friends with someone who has a driver’s license and a fucking car, and at the least should have faked dying to get rid of Sanghyuk's blackmailing over the phone.
Nothing works on Sanghyuk. It never has for three years when it comes to Jaehwan and his inability to lie efficiently, and that's how Jaehwan finds himself an hour away from home, going through the expressway with a painted Sanghyuk and a crumpled bag of corn chips under his left ass cheek.
There's the argument of "I can't believe I'm actually doing this for you" countered with "It's not like you had something to do when you don't do anything much” with an exaggerated gasp followed by a petulant "Yes I do", but Jaehwan is already making a turn into the parking lot and Sanghyuk has been winning these conversations since day one.
Jaehwan doesn’t know much about what Sanghyuk does, except for the fact that sometimes he pretends he’s stuck in a box and conveys emotions through a series of facial expressions, which concerns him because the only thing Sanghyuk is worse at than cooking is expressing himself. Being a mime isn’t all that bad, Sanghyuk says, because when there’s a snooty kid acting up all he has to do is smile to send them screaming for their parents. It’s a nice perk that comes with the job.
But Jaehwan doesn’t think he can stick next to Sanghyuk watching him and not talking to him for four hours, although Sanghyuk tells him he doesn’t have to be with him necessarily all the time (“I’m not keeping you on a leash, Jaehwan. Go out, enjoy a little, and stop touching my neck.”) He’s around Sanghyuk for the first hour and a half and almost refuses to budge when Sanghyuk points to the other side of the carnival, tapping his foot against the ground with a hand against his hip for the crowd that's surrounding them and mouthing go.
And now - now, Jaehwan has been roaming around for another two hours with a chunk of sausage that used to be a hot dog in his hand, feeling bummed that his terrible best friend is using him for transportation, as that may be the only thing Jaehwan will ever be good for. He shoves the rest of what’s left in his mouth and mutters, “This is so sad.”
“You look sad,” and the voice is so sudden that Jaehwan almost chokes, turning around to face a mildly amused guy staring back at him. He’s wearing the official logo for the carnival on his shirt and is standing behind a counter next to a basketball hoop that lights up around the rim. The guy’s face is slightly covered with a baseball cap but Jaehwan can sense the smile in his eyes. “By that I mean pitiful.”
Jaehwan frowns, having finished the hot dog and gulping before he speaks. “I’m not pitiful, thank you. It’s just my situation is a little…” Well, just plain awful would be the right word but Jaehwan pushes the exaggeration a little over the top. He knows Sanghyuk hasn’t intended to just use him when he wants to, it’s also good for Jaehwan seeing that he needs to get out a little more instead of wasting time rotting away in the safety of his bed and game console.
The baseball cap guy makes a sympathetic noise as he nods. “Got dumped?”
“What, no,” Jaehwan says, almost defensively, and then shuts his mouth. “I did not get dumped.”
“Really? You’d be surprised how many breakups happen around here.” The guy then leans forward with his arms resting against the counter, giving Jaehwan a look. “Are you sure someone didn’t break your heart? The way you were looking at that hot dog was questionable.”
“No,” Jaehwan tells him, and sighs. “I’ve been made a chauffeur.”
Right after a beat the guy seems to get it because his eyebrows rise. “Ah.”
“He’s my best friend but making me drive all the way here when he could’ve taken the subway or the bus is just,” Jaehwan scratches the back of his head. “It’s okay, though, I mean. He works here so I get a free entrance pass and all.” He finds the guy is giving him some other sort of look. “What?”
“Here I assumed thinking you were heartbroken over a hot dog when the real problem isn’t even as great,” the guy tells him straightforwardly while Jaehwan is thinking of telling him to jam a foot up his ass but he says, “You haven’t done anything since you’ve been here tonight?”
Jaehwan thinks of the popcorn soaking in spilled orange soda on the floor that he’d been staring at thirty minutes before. “Not really.”
“You can play a game of ball if you want - three baskets for a small prize. It’s free of charge since you have no tickets.” Baseball Cap smiles at him and it’s startling how much of a smile it is - Jaehwan has never seen so many teeth in one grin. It’s as if he’s thinking he knows Jaehwan won’t say no, that he doesn’t have anything better to do, and Jaehwan honestly doesn’t but he’s also somewhat pathetic, so he takes the ball offered to him and is dead set on getting it in through the hoop to rub it in the guy’s, unnaturally handsome, he realizes late, face.
Jaehwan takes a position right in front, his eyes on level with the hoop, and bends his knees slightly before throwing the ball, seeing it bounce off the board two inches to the left. The second ball goes through a similar attempt. The third ball barely touches the rim.
Baseball Cap lets out a low whistle. "I knew you were going to be terrible but I didn't think it was going to be this bad."
"It's been awhile since I've played," Jaehwan mutters. If he counts that one time he threw an empty juice pouch in the trash from across the living room for fun and it made a connection with the wall before falling shortly to the floor.
"You play basketball?" he asks. There's no doubt he knows Jaehwan is lying. He's only doing this for his own entertainment, if the endless lazy half-smiles are any indication. Being this smug about the lack of Jaehwan's capabilities plucks a nerve in his body and before he knows what he's doing he's opening his mouth.
"I could win your best prize if you give me a second chance," says Jaehwan, back straightening. "I wasn't my best today but I'm sure I can win something." His tone is slightly snappy at the end and he doesn’t mean for it to be that way, although it doesn't seem Baseball Cap really minds as he grins, fully entertained.
"That's great," he says good-naturedly. "I'd be happy to see you make twenty baskets whenever you can."
Jaehwan knows he should back out of this proposition before it becomes official. Go with the right, mindful choice of I was just joking, haha and fucking leave but Jaehwan is too easy and absurd. It's an offer for a game and he wants to take it with the thought that he can make twenty baskets in to trample all over Baseball Cap's presumptuous, alarmingly gorgeous face.
Jaehwan thinks and, fuck it, he's got nothing better to do. "Twenty baskets. I'll get your best prize if I get them all in."
"If you lose?"
"I can't deal with losing bets, they make me nervous."
Jaehwan’s heart sputters when Baseball Cap starts to laugh, the sound smooth, almost rich in the humid evening. He looks back at Jaehwan and gives him a large smile, the curls of his lips fitting against the space below his cheeks. "No losing bets, then. I wouldn't want you to suffer too much. I'm Hongbin, by the way.”
Jaehwan tries to ignore the constant threats of a heart attack building up whenever Hongbin feels the need to send him into brief panic with a smile and remarkably tells him his own name without sounding like a fool.
(Later when he's back on the road ranting to Sanghyuk about his first day at the carnival, he's reminded of an asshole with bright teeth and lovely lips and sparkly eyes. He actually thinks of the words sparkly eyes and almost tells Sanghyuk to throw him out the window.)
Let it be no surprise that Jaehwan quickly loses the first few games within two to five minutes. After getting the third ball in Jaehwan usually messes up somehow, somewhere, and ends up having another day pass with no promise of a big stuffed dog on his back (Hongbin says Manny, the dog, is the biggest prize no one’s ever won yet. There is by no means a guarantee that Jaehwan will be able to get Manny, maybe never. Never seems about right.)
Jaehwan can barely make it to seven balls when it’s been an entire week. He makes it a routine to practice in his backyard or take advice from Sanghyuk who’s been a professional playing basketball videogames for two years. His throws get better gradually, better than what throws he made that often got him strange looks from nearby customers around the game stand, but his subpar skills aren’t enough to crush Hongbin’s visible enjoyment of every part of Jaehwan’s misery.
Sometimes there’s a comment on the tip of Hongbin’s tongue when Jaehwan doesn’t get in a shot, and they’re not mean per se, it’s the teasing in his tone that pinches all of Jaehwan’s sides and the pleasant thrum he gets when Hongbin laughs at his sulkiness. He’s not supposed to feel like this around Hongbin who makes it his second (and third and fourth) job to torment Jaehwan when necessary, even if his fingers brush against Jaehwan’s wrist after giving him another ball, says a soft, encouraging that was a good one, and shoots him a smile, a set of deep dimples curving around the flesh of his cheeks.
Jaehwan hates them. He also hates himself for noticing.
Weeks pass by and Jaehwan still hasn’t made in twenty shots. He thinks he’ll give up at this point, he’s never done this much walking and moving around, and his arms are ready to fall apart at his feet.
This being the most exercise he's ever done all year doesn't come as a surprise to Hongbin.
"No offense, but you can't even last five minutes without breathing hard," he tells Jaehwan once.
He's right but that doesn't mean it's not insulting. Jaehwan would say a thing or two about Hongbin's own stamina, except he's caught flashes of Hongbin's abdomen when his shirt rides up as he's grabbing something from the higher shelves, and has had generous countless views of Hongbin's arms when he decides to wear something sleeveless.
He begins to think he can make it out alive when it's just a few things he's taken notice of, nothing too bad. But it's when Hongbin tells him something that isn't even remotely funny and is almost a little awkward that he sees them - the fluttery smiles, the crinkles around his eyes when he laughs, the slight dark curls over his forehead when he takes off his cap to run a hand through his hair, the curious peeks at Jaehwan when he thinks Jaehwan isn't looking. The thought of Hongbin, Hongbin, Hongbin, repeats over in Jaehwan's mind like a badly scratched film, and it overwhelms him easily, breaks him into pieces.
The world is a cruel place to be in and Jaehwan is at the bottom of it, suffocated by with what Hongbin has already bruised him.
Jaehwan feels fucked.
"Are you going to keep faking?"
Jaehwan blinks, looking at the rearview mirror with a frown. "What?"
"It's kind of obvious," Sanghyuk's feet lean against the window, as he's been feeling bone tired since the end of his shift and has taken the entire backseat to stretch his body over. "that you've been trying to dance around the possibility you might not see Hongbin anymore after this."
"There's nothing I can do if we can't," Jaehwan mumbles.
"You never thought you could just, I don't know, talk to the guy about how you feel? It's not like he'll bite your head off."
Jaehwan knows Hongbin can if he wants to, the amount of teeth he has isn't something to be made fun of. Jaehwan has learned the hard way.
"He doesn't even know that I like him." It's embarrassing to say it out loud, especially since it's been a little over three months with that thought running in his head but it also feels relieving, in a sense.
He doesn't have much time left before the carnival closes. There's about two weeks before the tents are put away and he goes back to living life without Hongbin and the smell of popcorn that's become a part of Jaehwan's daily evening attire.
The realization of not being near Hongbin at all hits him with a force, and Jaehwan has never really been good with sad, mushy feelings so he lets himself saturate in them. Hongbin may not even like him or think of the same things Jaehwan has. It further discourages Jaehwan and he thinks he's not going to do it. If Hongbin by chance does like him, maybe, kind of, then it can lead to something that they both might want - but what if he doesn't? And if he does? Or what if he -
Sanghyuk hits the back of Jaehwan's seat with his heel and tells him to make up his mind and stop being gross, he can hear his thoughts from here, and that he hasn't put up with Jaehwan's pouty mood for nothing. He mutters a bitter Sometimes you're worse than Hakyeon, I swear before settling back in his place.
“Would it be weird if I said I liked you in that sort of way when you like someone?” Jaehwan decides to ask when he’s throwing the ball for the thirteenth shot in a row. It makes it in at the same time Hongbin stares at him instead of the hoop.
It takes a moment (a slow, excruciatingly long moment for Jaehwan) until Hongbin says, “Yes and no.”
Fourteenth ball. “I’m going to take that as a good thing?”
“You took this long to finally say something, I’m going to assume you did some thorough thinking.”
Jaehwan makes the fifteenth shot. “It’ll be difficult after this when we won’t be able to see each other as much anymore. Plus I’ve been told I’m a serial cuddler in the few relationships that I’ve had.”
Hongbin presses his elbows against the counter and places his chin in his palm. He’s giving Jaehwan a look where he’s both curious and quizzical. “Is this your way of asking me out? Giving me the cons of what can happen if we were in a relationship?”
“Do you want to be?” Jaehwan is sheepish, trying for a smile that doesn’t make it all the way.
Hongbin does it for him, a pretty, pretty smile, and Jaehwan thinks his heart isn’t going to make it. “You still have yet to get in twenty shots.”
Jaehwan eventually fails at the seventeenth and he doesn’t get to have Manny, but the kiss Hongbin presses against his lips when he pulls Jaehwan in by the chin later makes everything, before and what’ll happen after, worth it.
(Sanghyuk starts to regret ever dragging Jaehwan along to the carnival when he’s been demoted to backseat permanently as Hongbin becomes a part of their rides, and always makes his gagging noticeable when they start to get disgusting in the front.)
pairing: ken/hongbin
rating: pg13
word count: 2,738 words
summary: If there’s one person Jaehwan can’t handle it’s the employee at the carnival who at first has it out to get him and is also sort of, maybe, a little cute.
notes: written for forvixx's 2015 summer fic exchange!
It's times like these when Jaehwan wishes he didn't pass his driver's test when he did, didn't buy a car before heading off to university, didn't drunkenly proclaim at his surprise birthday party taken place on campus that license-less Sanghyuk will always be his friend - his best friend (at the end of fresh age of twenty, Jaehwan clearly wasn't thinking straight but that could've been the vodka prepping him) - when all his hard work is going to be spent on laboring for said 'best' friend by taking him to work almost everyday for the rest of the summer. It's times like these that Jaehwan realizes he's picked the wrong person to be associated with, should have been friends with someone who has a driver’s license and a fucking car, and at the least should have faked dying to get rid of Sanghyuk's blackmailing over the phone.
Nothing works on Sanghyuk. It never has for three years when it comes to Jaehwan and his inability to lie efficiently, and that's how Jaehwan finds himself an hour away from home, going through the expressway with a painted Sanghyuk and a crumpled bag of corn chips under his left ass cheek.
There's the argument of "I can't believe I'm actually doing this for you" countered with "It's not like you had something to do when you don't do anything much” with an exaggerated gasp followed by a petulant "Yes I do", but Jaehwan is already making a turn into the parking lot and Sanghyuk has been winning these conversations since day one.
Jaehwan doesn’t know much about what Sanghyuk does, except for the fact that sometimes he pretends he’s stuck in a box and conveys emotions through a series of facial expressions, which concerns him because the only thing Sanghyuk is worse at than cooking is expressing himself. Being a mime isn’t all that bad, Sanghyuk says, because when there’s a snooty kid acting up all he has to do is smile to send them screaming for their parents. It’s a nice perk that comes with the job.
But Jaehwan doesn’t think he can stick next to Sanghyuk watching him and not talking to him for four hours, although Sanghyuk tells him he doesn’t have to be with him necessarily all the time (“I’m not keeping you on a leash, Jaehwan. Go out, enjoy a little, and stop touching my neck.”) He’s around Sanghyuk for the first hour and a half and almost refuses to budge when Sanghyuk points to the other side of the carnival, tapping his foot against the ground with a hand against his hip for the crowd that's surrounding them and mouthing go.
And now - now, Jaehwan has been roaming around for another two hours with a chunk of sausage that used to be a hot dog in his hand, feeling bummed that his terrible best friend is using him for transportation, as that may be the only thing Jaehwan will ever be good for. He shoves the rest of what’s left in his mouth and mutters, “This is so sad.”
“You look sad,” and the voice is so sudden that Jaehwan almost chokes, turning around to face a mildly amused guy staring back at him. He’s wearing the official logo for the carnival on his shirt and is standing behind a counter next to a basketball hoop that lights up around the rim. The guy’s face is slightly covered with a baseball cap but Jaehwan can sense the smile in his eyes. “By that I mean pitiful.”
Jaehwan frowns, having finished the hot dog and gulping before he speaks. “I’m not pitiful, thank you. It’s just my situation is a little…” Well, just plain awful would be the right word but Jaehwan pushes the exaggeration a little over the top. He knows Sanghyuk hasn’t intended to just use him when he wants to, it’s also good for Jaehwan seeing that he needs to get out a little more instead of wasting time rotting away in the safety of his bed and game console.
The baseball cap guy makes a sympathetic noise as he nods. “Got dumped?”
“What, no,” Jaehwan says, almost defensively, and then shuts his mouth. “I did not get dumped.”
“Really? You’d be surprised how many breakups happen around here.” The guy then leans forward with his arms resting against the counter, giving Jaehwan a look. “Are you sure someone didn’t break your heart? The way you were looking at that hot dog was questionable.”
“No,” Jaehwan tells him, and sighs. “I’ve been made a chauffeur.”
Right after a beat the guy seems to get it because his eyebrows rise. “Ah.”
“He’s my best friend but making me drive all the way here when he could’ve taken the subway or the bus is just,” Jaehwan scratches the back of his head. “It’s okay, though, I mean. He works here so I get a free entrance pass and all.” He finds the guy is giving him some other sort of look. “What?”
“Here I assumed thinking you were heartbroken over a hot dog when the real problem isn’t even as great,” the guy tells him straightforwardly while Jaehwan is thinking of telling him to jam a foot up his ass but he says, “You haven’t done anything since you’ve been here tonight?”
Jaehwan thinks of the popcorn soaking in spilled orange soda on the floor that he’d been staring at thirty minutes before. “Not really.”
“You can play a game of ball if you want - three baskets for a small prize. It’s free of charge since you have no tickets.” Baseball Cap smiles at him and it’s startling how much of a smile it is - Jaehwan has never seen so many teeth in one grin. It’s as if he’s thinking he knows Jaehwan won’t say no, that he doesn’t have anything better to do, and Jaehwan honestly doesn’t but he’s also somewhat pathetic, so he takes the ball offered to him and is dead set on getting it in through the hoop to rub it in the guy’s, unnaturally handsome, he realizes late, face.
Jaehwan takes a position right in front, his eyes on level with the hoop, and bends his knees slightly before throwing the ball, seeing it bounce off the board two inches to the left. The second ball goes through a similar attempt. The third ball barely touches the rim.
Baseball Cap lets out a low whistle. "I knew you were going to be terrible but I didn't think it was going to be this bad."
"It's been awhile since I've played," Jaehwan mutters. If he counts that one time he threw an empty juice pouch in the trash from across the living room for fun and it made a connection with the wall before falling shortly to the floor.
"You play basketball?" he asks. There's no doubt he knows Jaehwan is lying. He's only doing this for his own entertainment, if the endless lazy half-smiles are any indication. Being this smug about the lack of Jaehwan's capabilities plucks a nerve in his body and before he knows what he's doing he's opening his mouth.
"I could win your best prize if you give me a second chance," says Jaehwan, back straightening. "I wasn't my best today but I'm sure I can win something." His tone is slightly snappy at the end and he doesn’t mean for it to be that way, although it doesn't seem Baseball Cap really minds as he grins, fully entertained.
"That's great," he says good-naturedly. "I'd be happy to see you make twenty baskets whenever you can."
Jaehwan knows he should back out of this proposition before it becomes official. Go with the right, mindful choice of I was just joking, haha and fucking leave but Jaehwan is too easy and absurd. It's an offer for a game and he wants to take it with the thought that he can make twenty baskets in to trample all over Baseball Cap's presumptuous, alarmingly gorgeous face.
Jaehwan thinks and, fuck it, he's got nothing better to do. "Twenty baskets. I'll get your best prize if I get them all in."
"If you lose?"
"I can't deal with losing bets, they make me nervous."
Jaehwan’s heart sputters when Baseball Cap starts to laugh, the sound smooth, almost rich in the humid evening. He looks back at Jaehwan and gives him a large smile, the curls of his lips fitting against the space below his cheeks. "No losing bets, then. I wouldn't want you to suffer too much. I'm Hongbin, by the way.”
Jaehwan tries to ignore the constant threats of a heart attack building up whenever Hongbin feels the need to send him into brief panic with a smile and remarkably tells him his own name without sounding like a fool.
(Later when he's back on the road ranting to Sanghyuk about his first day at the carnival, he's reminded of an asshole with bright teeth and lovely lips and sparkly eyes. He actually thinks of the words sparkly eyes and almost tells Sanghyuk to throw him out the window.)
Let it be no surprise that Jaehwan quickly loses the first few games within two to five minutes. After getting the third ball in Jaehwan usually messes up somehow, somewhere, and ends up having another day pass with no promise of a big stuffed dog on his back (Hongbin says Manny, the dog, is the biggest prize no one’s ever won yet. There is by no means a guarantee that Jaehwan will be able to get Manny, maybe never. Never seems about right.)
Jaehwan can barely make it to seven balls when it’s been an entire week. He makes it a routine to practice in his backyard or take advice from Sanghyuk who’s been a professional playing basketball videogames for two years. His throws get better gradually, better than what throws he made that often got him strange looks from nearby customers around the game stand, but his subpar skills aren’t enough to crush Hongbin’s visible enjoyment of every part of Jaehwan’s misery.
Sometimes there’s a comment on the tip of Hongbin’s tongue when Jaehwan doesn’t get in a shot, and they’re not mean per se, it’s the teasing in his tone that pinches all of Jaehwan’s sides and the pleasant thrum he gets when Hongbin laughs at his sulkiness. He’s not supposed to feel like this around Hongbin who makes it his second (and third and fourth) job to torment Jaehwan when necessary, even if his fingers brush against Jaehwan’s wrist after giving him another ball, says a soft, encouraging that was a good one, and shoots him a smile, a set of deep dimples curving around the flesh of his cheeks.
Jaehwan hates them. He also hates himself for noticing.
Weeks pass by and Jaehwan still hasn’t made in twenty shots. He thinks he’ll give up at this point, he’s never done this much walking and moving around, and his arms are ready to fall apart at his feet.
This being the most exercise he's ever done all year doesn't come as a surprise to Hongbin.
"No offense, but you can't even last five minutes without breathing hard," he tells Jaehwan once.
He's right but that doesn't mean it's not insulting. Jaehwan would say a thing or two about Hongbin's own stamina, except he's caught flashes of Hongbin's abdomen when his shirt rides up as he's grabbing something from the higher shelves, and has had generous countless views of Hongbin's arms when he decides to wear something sleeveless.
He begins to think he can make it out alive when it's just a few things he's taken notice of, nothing too bad. But it's when Hongbin tells him something that isn't even remotely funny and is almost a little awkward that he sees them - the fluttery smiles, the crinkles around his eyes when he laughs, the slight dark curls over his forehead when he takes off his cap to run a hand through his hair, the curious peeks at Jaehwan when he thinks Jaehwan isn't looking. The thought of Hongbin, Hongbin, Hongbin, repeats over in Jaehwan's mind like a badly scratched film, and it overwhelms him easily, breaks him into pieces.
The world is a cruel place to be in and Jaehwan is at the bottom of it, suffocated by with what Hongbin has already bruised him.
Jaehwan feels fucked.
"Are you going to keep faking?"
Jaehwan blinks, looking at the rearview mirror with a frown. "What?"
"It's kind of obvious," Sanghyuk's feet lean against the window, as he's been feeling bone tired since the end of his shift and has taken the entire backseat to stretch his body over. "that you've been trying to dance around the possibility you might not see Hongbin anymore after this."
"There's nothing I can do if we can't," Jaehwan mumbles.
"You never thought you could just, I don't know, talk to the guy about how you feel? It's not like he'll bite your head off."
Jaehwan knows Hongbin can if he wants to, the amount of teeth he has isn't something to be made fun of. Jaehwan has learned the hard way.
"He doesn't even know that I like him." It's embarrassing to say it out loud, especially since it's been a little over three months with that thought running in his head but it also feels relieving, in a sense.
He doesn't have much time left before the carnival closes. There's about two weeks before the tents are put away and he goes back to living life without Hongbin and the smell of popcorn that's become a part of Jaehwan's daily evening attire.
The realization of not being near Hongbin at all hits him with a force, and Jaehwan has never really been good with sad, mushy feelings so he lets himself saturate in them. Hongbin may not even like him or think of the same things Jaehwan has. It further discourages Jaehwan and he thinks he's not going to do it. If Hongbin by chance does like him, maybe, kind of, then it can lead to something that they both might want - but what if he doesn't? And if he does? Or what if he -
Sanghyuk hits the back of Jaehwan's seat with his heel and tells him to make up his mind and stop being gross, he can hear his thoughts from here, and that he hasn't put up with Jaehwan's pouty mood for nothing. He mutters a bitter Sometimes you're worse than Hakyeon, I swear before settling back in his place.
“Would it be weird if I said I liked you in that sort of way when you like someone?” Jaehwan decides to ask when he’s throwing the ball for the thirteenth shot in a row. It makes it in at the same time Hongbin stares at him instead of the hoop.
It takes a moment (a slow, excruciatingly long moment for Jaehwan) until Hongbin says, “Yes and no.”
Fourteenth ball. “I’m going to take that as a good thing?”
“You took this long to finally say something, I’m going to assume you did some thorough thinking.”
Jaehwan makes the fifteenth shot. “It’ll be difficult after this when we won’t be able to see each other as much anymore. Plus I’ve been told I’m a serial cuddler in the few relationships that I’ve had.”
Hongbin presses his elbows against the counter and places his chin in his palm. He’s giving Jaehwan a look where he’s both curious and quizzical. “Is this your way of asking me out? Giving me the cons of what can happen if we were in a relationship?”
“Do you want to be?” Jaehwan is sheepish, trying for a smile that doesn’t make it all the way.
Hongbin does it for him, a pretty, pretty smile, and Jaehwan thinks his heart isn’t going to make it. “You still have yet to get in twenty shots.”
Jaehwan eventually fails at the seventeenth and he doesn’t get to have Manny, but the kiss Hongbin presses against his lips when he pulls Jaehwan in by the chin later makes everything, before and what’ll happen after, worth it.
(Sanghyuk starts to regret ever dragging Jaehwan along to the carnival when he’s been demoted to backseat permanently as Hongbin becomes a part of their rides, and always makes his gagging noticeable when they start to get disgusting in the front.)