Court and Spark for tcaramel - Part 1

[roebling]

Title: Court and Spark
Authors: almostblue & roebling
Pairing: Himchan/Youngjae
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~12,000
Warning: Brief mentions of past bullying based on sexual orientation
Summary: Himchan never expects to see Yoo Youngjae at his favorite club. Youngjae doesn't think he'll be anything but annoyed when upperclassman Kim Himchan tries out for the school chorus. In the end, nothing works out quite like either of them expects it to (but that's okay). A high school AU about missed connections, falling in love and...gay nightclubs?

Hello tcaramel! We're sorry this is a bit late and we really hope you enjoy it!!

The title comes from the Joni Mitchell album of the same name (which is amazing). This is the song Himchan plays for his audition. It's really lovely, so take a listen.


“... and she knew we were going to be here. I told her we were. I mean, she does realize I don’t just come here to hang out with you, right?” Hana shakes her head. “No offence, Himchan, but I get enough of you at school.”

Himchan shrugs. “None taken,” he says, sloshing the ice around in his plastic cup. “Hana, you need to just ask Hyosung to come out with us some time.”

Hana makes an annoyed face. “I already told you, Channie. I don’t want her to come because she think it’s like, a group night out. I want her to come because she’s … you know. Curious.”

Himchan shakes his head. He’s seen the way that Hyosung looks at Hana sometimes -- like she’s looking at something especially delicious. He’s told Hana that, but she insists that Jun Hyosung -- beautiful, smart, head cheerleader -- isn’t interested in girls that way, and especially not in her tomboy friend Hana.

“My life isn’t a cheesy high school drama, Himchan,” Hana says, frowning. “Unni isn’t into girls like that. I get it. I’m not upset or anything. I’m just …”

“Well, you’re talking about her an awful lot for someone who isn’t upsetting you,” Himchan says.

Hana glares.

Himchan puts his drink down. “I’m going to get another,” he says. “You want anything?”

Hana crosses her arms over her chest and scowls. “Go,” she says.

Himchan shakes his head at her, and steps into the crowd.

It’s Saturday night at Mujigae. The dance floor is more crowded than ever, and more than once Himchan just barely avoids having a drink spilled on his brand new sneakers. The music is a too loud mix of idol groups, rap, and Western pop -- none of it particularly good. More than half the crowd are pushing middle aged -- salarymen looking for a quick hookup, professional women in heels and pretty blouses but no wedding rings on their fingers.

It’s not really Himchan’s ideal crowd but he keeps coming back; Mujigae is the only gay bar anywhere around here, after all. It's not even really a gay bar. It's just the kind of bar where people will look the other way, that's all. There's no shortage of "regular" couples out for a good time. The difference is that if Himchan ends up talking to a guy for a while and then leaving with him, no one's going to be waiting for them outside the door.

Himchan slides through the crowd, looking to see if there's any familiar faces. There's a few guys he knows that come here often enough. He doesn't know them--their names, where they go to school, where they live. That's all for the best. He only knows them here, in the safety of a place where they can dance and laugh and occasionally sneak off for something more.

Tonight is looking more and more like a bust until Himchan sees a guy leaning against the wall, close to the entrance. He squints. It's dark in the club and he doesn't have the greatest vision anyway, but he could swear that that guy looks exactly like…

"Oh my god," Himchan says, out loud. He pushes back through the mess of dancing bodies in the club to find Hana sitting at their table talking to a group of girls. He doesn't know if she's trying to pick someone up or if maybe she just got bored and wanted some new friends. Possibly it's both; the girl on the right seems to be hanging on her every word, but that doesn't matter right now.

"Hana," Himchan interrupts. He licks his lips. "Hana, you have to come see this. You're never going to believe it."

Hana gives him an unimpressed look.

"Two seconds, I promise," Himchan says, nodding to the table and large. "Ladies, I promise I'll bring her back." The girls giggle and the cute one blushes and yeah, she's definitely into Hana.

"You are ruining my game," Hana hisses, as Himchan drags her across the floor. "If she's not there when I get back…"

"She will be," Himchan promises. "She's totally into you. But you won't believe who's here."

"The pope," Hana says dryly.

"No," Himchan says, pausing at the edge of the dance floor, where they can point and still hide behind the dancers. "Yoo Youngjae."

--

Youngjae's never been in a club like this before.

He pushes the ice cubes down in his drink with his straw, for lack of anything better to do with his hands. He's just leaning up against the wall, like an idiot, but he didn't know everything would be quite so...loud. Overwhelming. He feels awkward and out of place in his jeans and sneakers and T-shirt. They're his nice jeans, but even so.

Youngjae knows that Mujigae caters to a diverse crowd. Youngjae is coming to terms with the fact that he is very much a part of this diverse crowd, no matter how hard he stares at some girl's ass in gym class.

But the guys here are like--

--Wow.

Youngjae really doesn't feel like he can compare.

It's not that everyone is dressed up in glitter and sequins, although there is one boy who smiles at him as he walks past, his skin glowing with something sheer and sparkly. It's more that the dress code seems to be tight jeans and tight clothes. Messy hair. Eyeliner and lip gloss, like everyone is from one of those stupid ulzzang websites.

Youngjae wishes he could stop licking his lips and staring.

He should probably just finish his Coke and go home. He walked through the door and didn't freak out and he's not freaking out now, either, which was his entire goal in the first place. Next time he comes back he'll--dress differently, maybe. Figure out a better way to do his hair. He'll figure something out.

He turns to his right to find a place to throw his barely-touched drink away.

"Hey," a voice says. He's suddenly aware of a shoulder next to his, of someone leaning up against the wall next to him. "First time? You look a little…"

"Nervous?" Youngjae fills in, laughing awkwardly as he turns to face the stranger. He can feel his cheeks flaming. He rubs the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. "Awkward? Totally lame? Gee, what tipped you off?"

The guy standing next to him is tall and pretty, with messy black hair and dark eyes. When he leans against the wall, the gap between his t-shirt and jeans shows off his slim, bare hipbones. "Hey," the guy says, grinning at him. He reminds Youngjae of a friendly panther. "Don't sell yourself short. I just thought...maybe you'd like some company."

Youngjae wrinkles his nose. “No,” he says. “I just came in here to … get a drink.”

Panther guy smirks, narrow-eyed. “Oh, so you were just passing by and decided you were thirsty? Is that all?” He reaches out and take the plastic cup from Youngjae’s hand. “This is just cola,” he says, taking a sip. “You could gone to the market. Wasn’t this a little out of your way?” One eyebrow arched, he stares at Youngjae so coolly Youngjae feels more uncomfortable than ever.

“How do you know what’s out of my way?” This guy might have cheekbones like a celebrity and more style in one carefully coiffed lock of hair than Youngjae’s got in his entire body, but seriously, who is he to decide what’s out of Youngjae’s way?

For just a moment, the man’s expression is confused, eyebrows knit and the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. But then that sharp, vaguely predatory gleam is back in his eyes. “This place,” he says, handing Youngjae back his drink, “is out of everyone’s way.”

--

Himchan is proud of himself for keeping a straight face. Making Yoo Youngjae squirm is even more fun than he thought it would be. He’s shy and flushed, barely meeting Himchan’s eyes. No matter what he might say Himchan knows he came here on purpose -- everyone does. With his trainers and his white tee shirt and his flushed, round cheeks, he must feel out of place.

Himchan’s good on picking up on that kind of feeling. He’s had a lot of experience with it.

The best part of all is that Youngjae doesn’t recognize him. Maybe that should feel like a slight-- they’ve gone to school together for years-- but Himchan chooses to take it as a compliment to his skill with a flat iron and eyeliner. At school, he lays low and tries to look as normal as possible. He brushes his hair forward, over his forehead. He doesn't cover up his skin if he breaks out. He wears his shapeless uniform and his thick-framed glasses and even if he hates it all of that is good, because it means safety. It means that sometimes he's allowed to be the person he really wants to be--and no one has ever suspected that he's Kim Himchan.

Youngjae doesn't look that different out of his school uniform. His clothes fit better and his shoulders are far broader than Himchan would have suspected, but other than that...he looks exactly the same.

Himchan's going to need to warn him about that, if they become friends.

Nervously, Youngjae sifts his plastic cup from hand to hand. It’s warm in the club, and the condensation drips down his wrist. It would be weird of Himchan to reach over and wipe it off.

Himchan’s never worried that much about being weird.

Youngjae’s wrists are slim and skin under Himchan's fingers is cool. Himchan wipes the water way with his thumb, his hands lingering on Youngjae's pulse point. Youngjae frowns, but Himchan can feel the way his pulse is trembling.

“Still thirsty?”

Youngjae shakes his head. “No, I’m just going to go …”

“Hey,” Himchan says. “Don’t go. Even if you just stopped in for a drink, you should have fun now that you’re here, right?”

Youngjae shifts the cup from his right hand to his left hand again. “I don’t know anyone,” he says.

“You know me,” Himchan says. “I heard once it takes an hour to become someone’s friend. We’ve been talking for fifteen minutes, so we’re already a quarter of the way there.”

Youngjae rolls his eyes. “I don’t think this is my kind of place,” he says, “and I don’t even know your name.”

Himchan smiles and holds out his hand for Youngjae to shake. It's just a little white lie Himchan tells himself. It has nothing to do with not wanting Youngjae to be disappointed. “I’m … Minkyu.”

He's just not ready for the fun to end so soon.

--

Youngjae swallows. He looks at Minkyu's outstretched hand, and then shakes it carefully. Minkyu has calloused hands and a firm grip. Youngjae wonders what he plays. He knows the hands of a musician when he seems them.

"Youngjae," he mumbles, letting Minkyu's hand fall.

"What was that?" Minkyu shakes his head and leans in closer, like he hadn't caught Youngjae's name over the music.

"Youngjae," Youngjae says, louder this time. His mouth is right next to Minkyu's ear. They're really close. Minkyu nods and turns to face him and all of a sudden his face is like--it is right next to Youngjae's face and holy shit, Minkyu's eyes are blue and Youngjae can't remember the last time he met someone with blue eyes. They're really, really pretty.

Youngjae does the smoothest thing he can under the circumstances, which is to say that he stumbles backwards and spills his drink all over both of their shoes.

"Oh fuck," Youngjae says, his heart sinking even though that was weird and he doesn't even like Minkyu and they're not friends, not really. He doesn't like the way Minkyu looks at him, like he knows all of Youngjae's secrets. But none of that matters, because Youngjae is now forever going to be The Dumb Asshole who Ruined Minkyu's Shoes and he's never going to be able to come here again even if he wanted to. "Oh fuck, I am so sorry, I just--my hand slipped, and I--"

Minkyu grimaces, shaking one foot off and giving Youngjae a Look. "Come on," he says, grabbing Youngjae's hand with a huff. "There's napkins by the bar. You are so lucky these are knock-offs, by the way."

"I'm sorry," Youngjae says helplessly. This night is turning into such a mess.

Minkyu waits until the bartender's back is turned, and then leans over the bar, grabbing a stack of napkins from where they keep the garnishes. "Follow me," he says sternly, linking their fingers together and pulling Youngjae through the crowd. Youngjae doesn't understand the reason for Minkyu's iron grip until suddenly they're in the middle of what seems like a hundred sweaty, dancing bodies. He bumps into at least seven people and tries to apologize to all of them, but none of them seem to care and anyway, every time he slows down Minkyu pulls him forward, tightening his grasp.

"Whoa," Youngjae says to himself, when they finally find a small pocket of unoccupied space. He looks up to see that they're near the toilets.

Minkyu glances back at him. "You should probably get ready for this," he says, over his shoulder. Youngjae has to lean in to hear him. He--he smells really nice. Youngjae tries not to notice.

"Get ready for what?"

"Oh, Christ," Minkyu says, under his breath. Youngjae's pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear that. His cheeks feel hot.

Minkyu turns around, giving Youngjae a serious look. "We are about to go in a men's room at a gay bar. I mean, we're not going together,, we're going in so we can wash the soda off, but. Please tell me you understand what that means."

"I--" Youngjae knows his mouth is hanging open. He can't seem to close it. Are there seriously going to be guys in there, like, having---?

"Yes? I think?"

"Okay, close enough," Minkyu says. He pushes the door open and heads straight for the row of sinks. The front of the bathroom looks empty, and Youngjae thinks for a moment that everything is normal until he hears a quiet...moan.

"Oh my god," Youngjae says helplessly. He can't--he can see them in the mirror. He's trying not to look and it's not like he can really see much anyway but one of the guys is on his knees. His imagination can fill in the rest.

"Hey," Minkyu says softly, nudging Youngjae's arm. He's got his shoe off, and he's sponging the inside of the toe with a wad of wet paper towels. He looks like he's trying to hide a smile. "It's not polite to stare. Let them have their privacy."

"Right," Youngjae chokes out. Right. He can do this. He can take off his shoe and wipe all the soda residue off and holy shit there is a dude getting a blowjob right behind him. His hands are shaking.

Minkyu slips his shoes back on, once he's done cleaning them up as best he can. Youngjae follows suit, slower and more awkwardly. He washes his hands and then looks up to see Minkyu watching him carefully in the mirror.

"Hmm," Minkyu says. He reaches over and tilts Youngjae's chin towards him with a thoughtful expression. Youngjae lets him. His heart is pounding. He barely knows what's going on, except that he's not allowed to look at the guy having an orgasm four feet away.

Minkyu bites his lip, and then he takes his wet hand and runs it through Youngjae's hair, pushing his bangs off his forehead.

He squints and then does it again, more purposefully this time. He pieces out the hair around Youngjae's face and Youngjae just stands there and...lets him. All he can think about is how sweaty he is, and how nice Minkyu's cool hands feel against his skin.

"What do you think?" Minkyu says, stepping back and motioning for Youngjae to take a look. Youngjae mentally prepares himself for the inevitable, but when he looks up, the two guys are gone. It's just his own face staring back at him, wide-eyed and flushed.

He blinks.

"It looks good," he says, surprised. His mother always told him he had the wrong face shape for this haircut but apparently Minkyu is better at this than his mom.

"I think looks great. It makes you look older. That's always good," Minkyu says, smiling broadly at him. Youngjae can't look away. When Minkyu smiles for real, his whole face lights up. His front teeth are slightly too large. It's adorable. “You should wear it that way next time.”

--

“Next time?” Youngjae looks up, frowning. “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time.” He steps away.

Himchan frowns. He understands being confused, but when they’d walked into the bathroom and Youngjae had seen those guys...what he’d seemed most of all was curious. That definitely was not a look of disgust on Youngjae's face. “What’s wrong? Not what you were expecting?”

Youngjae nods. “I, um. Didn’t mean to end up here, remember?”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said people don’t end up here by accident,” Himchan says. Youngjae's lie is thin as paper, but he's sticking with it. Himchan almost admires him. "But...there’s nothing wrong with deciding it’s not your thing, you know.”

Youngjae bites his lower lip -- his mouth is small and his lips are full and he doesn’t seem to have any idea what he looks like when he does that. “I don’t know if ‘it’ isn’t my thing,” he says, slowly, “but this place … I mean, guys like you …”

Himchan grins. “I am pretty amazing, aren’t I?”

Youngjae laughs. “You’ve been really great to me, actually,” he says. “Even after I spilled my drink on your shoes. But … I mean, this is the major leagues. I'm pretty sure I still need training wheels.” He smiles, embarrassed, and brushes his bangs back down over his forehead.

Himchan resists the urge to laugh. Honestly, Youngjae seems like the kind of guy who wants nothing more than to surprise his boyfriend or girlfriend with a cake and flowers on their birthday. He’s the classic mother’s friend’s son -- smart and good looking in a wholesome, apple-cheeked way. Definitely not the kind of kid who you expect to find in the dimly lit bathroom of a seedy bar with another man.

But he’s here. So. Himchan might as well help him out.

He takes a step forward. Youngjae backs up against the sink. He’s not too much shorter than Himchan -- just an inch or two -- and he’s got a soft, unfinished look to him that makes Himchan think he’s still growing.

“Let me give you a piece of advice,” Himchan says. “Unless you plan on becoming a scriptwriter for weekend dramas, you should avoid that kind of cheesy metaphor.”

Youngjae’s cheeks go even redder.

Himchan reaches up, and brushes the hair off of Youngjae’s face again. “And don’t hide your eyes. They’re pretty.”

Youngjae smirks, and crosses his arms over his chest, like he’s trying to get a little space in between them. “That was pretty cheesy,” he says. “Take your own advice.”

Himchan grins. “Fine,” he says. “It was worth a try though, right?”

Youngjae shrugs, uneasy. He glances down. There’s nothing to see down there, really -- just the dirty floor and puddles from the leaky sink.

“I guess I’m gonna go,” he says eventually. He hasn't moved any closer, but he hasn't moved away, either.

“Wait,” Himchan says. “Listen, everyone has to start somewhere. If you really want to find out - I don't mind."

Youngjae looks up, confused.

Himchan sighs. “That means I’m going to kiss you , okay? Or I could. If you wanted me too."

--

Youngjae swallows hard. He doesn't know what to say. There's a part of him that wants to say yes--a large part of him, actually. Minkyu looks like the boys that Youngjae thinks about when he closes his eyes in the shower. He's been kind to Youngjae and he's done it in such a way that Youngjae doesn't feel like this is a set up. But he also feels like when he leaves, Minkyu will probably just...go back to whatever he was doing.

As attractive as Minkyu is, Youngjae can't really face the idea of a pity kiss.

"Thanks," Youngjae says, looking up into those unnerving blue eyes. "Like--I mean it. Thank you. But I'm kind of--I don't--"

"Hey, you don't have to explain," Minkyu says. He takes a step backwards. "I understand that there are some people who just aren't ready for my beauty yet."

Youngjae laughs before he can help himself. "No, I--no," he says. His cheeks are red, but Minkyu is smiling with him, not at him. Youngjae is abruptly sad that he'll probably never see him again. He likes him, for reasons he can't quite explain. "I'm just. I guess I was hoping the other person would...mean it."

"Mmm," Minkyu says. He doesn't say anything in response, just holds the door of the bathroom open. "So are you heading back home?"

"Yeah," Youngjae says. "It was--nice meeting you. I'm still sorry about your shoes."

"Whoa, hey," Minkyu says, laughing. "I was about to tell you I'm on my way home myself. I came here with a friend and it looks like she's...occupied." He leans over and shows Youngjae a text from someone--Minkyu's thumb is over the name--that reads ‘leaving now. WITH company. see you tomorrow? xo’

"Looks like Han--Hyejin doesn't need my help anymore," Minkyu says, coughing and flicking his phone shut. "It's almost midnight, anyway. Would you mind if I walked to the station with you?"

"No," Youngjae says. He means it. Maybe...maybe they can exchange numbers and hang out sometime, if Minkyu would even deign to hang out with someone like Youngjae.

"Thanks," Minkyu says, giving Youngjae a small smile before leading them through the crowd and towards the front of the club.

--

That was close, Himchan thinks, once they're outside. He takes a deep breath of air that seems fresh compared to the club, even if it's just the same old smog. He needs to get a grip. Even if there's a million girls named Hana in Seoul, he can't afford to let anything slip.

The station is several blocks away, through a neighborhood that Himchan isn't particularly fond of but has grown used to over the years. Youngjae's telling him a story about someone named Daehyun, a friend of his who once got lost for six hours around here because he kept reading a street sign wrong. It takes Himchan a moment to realize that Youngjae's talking about Jung Daehyun, the handsome hoobae that has even Sunhwa making eyes at him.

Himchan laughs at the right moments, and files this information away for later use. He has nothing against Jung Daehyun, but more information is never a bad thing. You never know when it will come in handy.

At one point they realize they'll have to side-step a group of drunken men, swaying down the curb and talking loudly in front of a bar. Himchan stiffens as he sees one of them eyeing him with disdain. Crowds of drunk guys are never a good thing.

"Let's cross the street," Himchan says, grabbing Youngjae's arm. Youngjae shakes him off.

"No," Youngjae says firmly, just before they're within earshot of the men. "We'll be fine. You shouldn't have to do that. I'll take care of it."

Himchan blinks at him.

"Excuse us," Youngjae says, smiling politely and bowing as they step around the men on the sidewalk. Himchan keeps his head down, but he knows that Youngjae is doing that thing where he radiates innocence and wholesomeness. The men let them through without incident.

"See?" Youngjae says, once they're past. "We're fine." He gives Himchan a searching look. Himchan turns away from the scrutiny, shoving his hands in his pockets. He doesn't need Yoo Youngjae's pity. He can take care of himself, even if means a black eye once in a while. It's just...nice to have company on his walk home tonight, that's all.

"Which way are you going on Line 6?" Youngjae says, as they pause before the Itaewon entrance to dig out their cards.

"Towards Korea University," Himchan lies. He's pretty sure he and Youngjae live relatively close to one another--he's seen him on his way to school a few times--but tonight he's planning on doubling back once he's sure Youngjae is gone.

"Ah, I'm near Omokgyo," Youngjae says. "So, literally the opposite side of the city. I guess you'll have to cross the street to take your branch. I think this side is mine."

"Well," Himchan says, holding out his hand. He ignores the disappointed feeling in his stomach. So what if Youngjae doesn't like him like that? He'll get over it. Eventually. "Then I guess it was nice to meet you, Youngjae."

--

"Yeah," Youngjae says quietly. They're standing underneath the light near the entrance to the subway. The block around them is relatively quiet; there's a few couples wandering home tipsy and giggling, and a few groups of kids shouting somewhere in the distance. It's positively peaceful for Itaewon.

He reaches out and shakes Minkyu's hand again. His hands are so unlike the rest of him. They're large and square-shaped, with thick callouses. Youngjae's hand looks small and slender in Minkyu's.

"What do you play?" Youngjae finds himself asking, before he's even fully processed the thought.

"Sorry?"

"Your hands." Youngjae doesn't let go. "You're a musician, aren't you? Or you play guitar, at the very least. Are you in a band?"

"Ah," Minkyu says, suddenly drawing his hand back. He seems flustered. "Um. Yeah, I guess. I mean, yeah. I play guitar. No band, though."

"You should be in a band," Youngjae says. "You'd make a good frontman. You have the face for it."

Minkyu laughs. "I know," he says, shaking his head. "But I can't sing. Not well enough to be in a band, anyway."

"Give me your number," Youngjae says impulsively. He moves closer. "I want to hear you play. I know--I know a few singers." He doesn't mention his own classes, or the hours of vocal training he puts in every day.

"I don't know if--"

"Just put it in my phone," Youngjae says, handing it over. "I'll SMS you."

Minkyu catches his lip between his teeth. "Okay," he says hesitantly. Youngjae waits as he types in a number. He figures he'll send the SMS once he's walking home from Omokgyo station. If Minkyu just gave him a fake, he'd rather not know about it until later.

"Here," Minkyu says, handing his phone back. Their hands and shoulders brush. "I should really get home."

"Me too," Youngjae agrees.

Neither of them move.

Oh fuck it, Youngjae thinks. His heart is pounding in his chest and Minkyu's eyelashes are really long, now that Youngjae is close enough to see them. He's been saving this up for some perfect, romantic kiss but maybe romance doesn't always come in the shapes you expect. Maybe romance is really the sensation of Youngjae's heart trying to fly out of his chest. Maybe it's a quiet street corner and a boy with no last name.

Youngjae licks his lips and then leans in, before he talks himself out of it. Minkyu makes a soft, surprised noise as their mouths connect. It's not that Youngjae's never kissed anyone before, but he suddenly realizes that he's never kissed someone that really kissed back. Minkyu is gentle about it, but his fingertips are brushing Youngjae's jaw and his tongue is flicking against the seam of Youngjae's lips.

Youngjae opens his mouth, leaning in. He has to steady himself with a hand on Minkyu's waist but that's okay, he thinks giddily. That's okay. Minkyu's mouth is soft and wet and Youngjae didn't think--god, he didn't think--

"I have to go," Youngjae says, forcing himself to pull away. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. His whole body is tingling. "I, I--"

"Me too," Minkyu says. He looks shell-shocked-- no trace of the smooth, fast-talking stranger from earlier in the evening. He's definitely staring at Youngjae's mouth. "I'm just going to--"

"Yeah," Youngjae says, and practically runs down the escalator towards the subway platform.

--

“...So we're going to meet up again next week,” Hana says, grinning. “I mean, it’s not adate or anything, but she said she was going to be there so …”

Hyosung beams. “She sounds great,” she says, resting her chin on her hand.

Hana nods. She slides onto the bench next to Himchan. “She is, unni.” She hesitates a second, then adds, “You know, you should come along next week. It’s really fun. Ask Himchan.”

“Hmm?” Himchan looks up. It’s lunch time. They’re sitting at their regular table, Hyosung’s eating her regular ramen, Jieun and Sunhwa are leaning over their phones to listen to their regular lunchtime podcast.

“Mujigae,” Hana says, thumping him on the shoulder. “It’s fun, right? Shouldn’t Hyosung unni come along?” She makes herself busy unwrapping her kimbap. Himchan is pretty sure she’s not just inviting Hyosung out of the goodness of her heart; he's glad to see his advice is heeded, once in awhile.

"Hmmm, sure," he says. "It's fun."

“Well that was a ringing endorsement.” Hana frowns at him. "What's wrong with you? You're really out of it today. Did you end up staying out all night again?"

Himchan shakes his head. "I was sound asleep in my bed before midnight," he says. "Well, almost."

Hana doesn't look like she believes him, but he's telling the truth. It had taken him a few minutes to gather his wits after Youngjae had kissed him, standing at the top of the subway stairs, but he'd gone straight home after that.

He'd been too startled to do anything else.

"Himchannie, did you forget your lunch again?" Hyosung pushes her bowl of ramen over in front of him. "Here, have some of mine."

Himchan shakes his head. He likes ramen, but it makes his face really bloated. He's not hungry, really. There's been something bothering him all day. He's been going to Mujigae for a few years now and he's kissed plenty of guys and done more, but none of those kisses, none of those sweaty hookups, none of those bathroom blow jobs-- none of them have stayed with him the way that kiss last night has. He touches his mouth; it's as if he can still feel Youngjae's lips against his.

There's a group of kids coming through the doors to the cafeteria -- second years, nobody Himchan knows or ordinarily pays attention to, but handsome Jung Daehyun, floppy-haired and smiling, is right in the middle of the crowd. And beside him …

The thing is, Himchan was hoping it was just some kind of fluke. He's kissed a lot of guys, but never anyone he knows. Not that he knows Youngjae, exactly-- not as anyone other than the smart, funny kid at the top of his class. And Youngjae hadn't recognized him, but there was the potential that he might have; if not in the club when smoke and flickering colored light made recognizing anyone a little bit tricky, then outside, later, under the flat and far less flattering orange light of the street lamps.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Youngjae all morning because he'd been worried. That's all. He'd been sure that once he was back in school and he saw Youngjae in his sloppy school jacket-- once he was certain that Youngjae wasn't suddenly going to recognize him--then it would be just another hookup.

Right?

Wrong, apparently, because Youngjae is shoulder to shoulder with Daehyun, talking and waving his hands a little bit. He's still wearing his hair in that awful bowl cut, but it suits him a little bit more here, in school, with his loose tie and his jacket with the too-long sleeves and his bag slung over his shoulder. Whatever he says makes Daehyun grin even wider, and Youngjae grins too, all white teeth and round cheeks and happy eyes. Himchan doesn't know exactly what the funny feeling in the pit of his stomach is, but it's definitely not indifference.

Oh damn. He squeezes his eyes shut and lies his head down on the table.

Hana pats his cheek.

He opens one eye and looks up at her. "You don't even know what's wrong with me," he says.

She shrugs. "I'm not worried," she says. "It'll come out eventually, Channie. It always does."

--

"Cut it out," Youngjae hisses.

Daehyun is prodding him with the eraser end of his pencil. "What's wrong with you?" he asks. "You barely answered a single question today. Kim seonsaengnim was nearly ready to send you to the nurse."

Youngjae shrugs. "I'm just tired," he says, annoyed. "I told you."

Daehyun pokes him again. "Why are you tired? What's wrong? Are you sick? Maybe you really should go to the nurse. If you're contagious right now and you get me sick I'm going to …"

"I'm not sick," Youngjae says, annoyed. Daehyun is ostensibly his best friend. Sometimes he's not sure what he did to deserve such a thing. "I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night." He flips open his calculous book and starts to work his way through the first problem. Youngjae doesn't mind math normally, but right now the numbers are just swimming in front of his eyes.

"Ah-ha," Daehyun says. "I knew it." He snaps his fingers. "You were out last night, weren't you? I didn't see you online once all night."

Youngjae shakes his head. "No, I was --" He blinks. Right. He's supposed to think up the excuse before he starts talking.

"You were what?" Daehyun is frowning. The stubborn look on his face doesn't bode well.

Youngjae shakes his head. "I was just busy."

Daehyun scowls and opens his own book. He'll just end up copying Youngjae's work anyway, but he likes to keep up the pretense of effort. "I'm going to make you tell me," he says.

"There's nothing to tell," Youngjae says.

And really, there's not. He'll tell Daehyun, one day, about the whole liking guys thing. He's pretty sure about that now, and he knows Daehyun wouldn't care. But right now all he can think about is Minkyu-- how handsome he'd been, and charming. Youngjae's good at studying, but he's not even sure where you'd start to learn something like that. And he'd been nice too, even after Youngjae had spilt soda on his shoes.

He's never going to see Minkyu again though, and even if he did-- what would he really want to do with some dumb high school kid?

Youngjae shakes his head. One day, when Youngjae isn't quite as hopeless, there will be some other guy. In the meanwhile, he'd be better off just forgetting about Minkyu-- if he can.

--

“What are you talking about? I’ve always wanted to come watch choir practice. I’ve just never had a chance, what with my own grueling practice schedule.” Himchan tries his best to look innocent.

Jieun raises an eyebrow. “Yesterday you and Hana went and got coffee after school. What kind of practice was that?” She and Himchan are walking against the flow of students streaming eagerly out of their last class of the day. It’s Tuesday, so the school’s choir has practice. Jieun is one of the female soloists, and has been for years. Himchan thinks she has a lovely voice, but he can listen to her sing any time; he’s got another reason for wanting to watch today.

“Well,” Himchan says, “as a performer, I have to be charming, right?”

Jieun nods.

“I sweet-talked the barista into giving us both free Americanos,” he says. “So I’d say it was pretty successful.” He winks.

Jieun scowls. “Kang seonsaengnim doesn’t usually let people sit in,” she says. “I had to ask him specifically, and he only said yes because you’re in the music program anyway.”

Himchan throws his arms around her. “You’re the best, Jieunnie.”

“I know,” she says, pushing him off. “Just … keep quiet, okay? Don’t make a nuisance out of yourself.”

Himchan holds a hand up. “Jieun, you’re talking to a fellow musician here. I’m going to be the very picture of courtesy and respect.”

Jieun crosses her arms over her chest as she walks. “You’re up to something,” she says.

Himchan nods. “Of course I am.” He’s not going to lie. “But then, what else is new?”

Jieun rolls her eyes as they reach the music room and Himchan pulls the door open for her. “You owe me, Kim Himchan.”

--

Somehow, by the end of chorus rehearsal, Himchan has managed to talk his way into an audition. He's not even really sure how it happened; one minute he and Jieun been discussing the tempo of one of Jieun's pieces, and the next Jieun had been introducing him to Kang seonsaengnim. They'd all talked for awhile about the current line-up of pieces for their next concert, and somehow Himchan had found himself opening his mouth and asking for an audition.

"I thought you were a percussionist, not a vocalist" Kang seonsaengnim had said, giving Himchan an interested look. "Will you be able to fit choir practice in with all of your other instruments? I know who you are, you know."

"I'd--like the chance to try," Himchan had said, ignoring Jieun's amazed look. He bowed as deeply as he could. "I would like to be as well rounded as possible before my college auditions."

"Hmm," Kang seonsaengnim had said, sizing him up. "Alright. 6pm tomorrow, in practice room 4. You'll be trying out in front of your prospective section. Can you accompany yourself on the piano?"

"Of course," Himchan had said, bowing even deeper. "Thank you, seonsaengnim."

"Okay," Jieun says, cornering him as soon as they leave the chorus room. "Spill it. Now.. You've never wanted to join the chorus in your life. We both know you have a good enough voice, but you hate singing in front of people. What are you doing?"

"Ah--fuck it," Himchan says, shaking his head. He has to tell someone soon, or he's going to explode. "Look, there's--there might be a guy." He drops his voice so only Jieun can hear him as he speaks. "And that guy might...be in the choir. Promise not to say anything? I know it's kind of stupid. I probably won't get in anyway, but..."

"I knew it," Jieun says, squinting at him thoughtfully. "You're never this weird unless it's about a guy. It's not that Jung Daehyun guy, is it?"

Himchan snorts in amusement. "No," he says. "No, it is definitely not Jung Daehyun."

--

“It’s just not fair,” Youngjae says, frowning. “That’s the problem.” He impales another piece of samgyupsal on his chopstick.

Daehyun, mouth full, says, “Well, I mean, after Yongnam quit we do need another tenor, right? And it’s not like people are beating down the doors to sign up.”

"Still," Youngjae says, frowning down at his lunch.

It’s not like Daehyun’s wrong; it just seems so unfair. When Youngjae tried out for chorus, he had to audition in front of a full panel of judges, singing both the song he prepared and one they gave him on the spot. This kid had the nerve to just walk right up and ask for an audition; even worse, Kang seonsaengnim had agreed. “It’s just not fair,” he says.

Daehyun shrugs and steals the last piece of samgyupsal. He’s not worried, of course; Daehyun is the apple of Kang seonsaengnim’s eye. "He has to audition in front of all of us," he says. "That's got to be a little intimidating."

“It’s not like his voice is that special, either,” Youngjae mutters. "I heard him singing along. I wasn't impressed."

“Yeah, but I know he can read music, and he’s definitely got a good sense of rhythm. Were you listening when he was talking with Jieun sunbae about her piece? His comments were really smart. That gives him a leg up over all those freshmen who only learned how to sing from going to noraebang.”

“I guess,” Youngjae says, annoyed. “Maybe Kang seonsaengnim did it as a favor for some other teacher or something. He’s in the music department, right? Is that how you know him?”

Daehyun nods. “Yeah.” He stares at the hot plate longingly for a second, as if he can make more meat materialize simply by concentrating hard enough. “He plays all kind of instruments. Really talented guy, but kind of...weird, I guess. He doesn’t really hang out with that many people, and he's an upperclassman, so I don't know him that well. All I know besides the music stuff is that his name is Kim Himchan.”

--

Himchan is familiar with Practice Room 4. He's familiar with all of the practice rooms, but Number 4 has an old upright that miraculously manages to stay in tune almost as well as the baby grand the music section pulls out of storage for concerts.

He shuffles his music around, and feels like he should probably be more nervous than he is. None of the other students have arrived yet; he's just been here, alone, practicing over and over since school ended.

He rests his hands on the keys and lifts up his foot on the pedals to begin one more time when suddenly there's a knock on the door. Hana doesn't bother waiting for him to get up; she just opens the door and comes right in, plopping down next to him on the piano bench.

"Hi handsome," Hana says, trying to hide her grin and failing spectacularly. "What brings you here today?"

"Oh shut up," Himchan grumbles, taking his hands off the keys and wiping them off on his uniform pants. His palms are sweaty.

"Are you seriously doing this?"

"Yes? Why not? I wasn't kidding when I told Kang seonsaengnim that it's important for me to be well-rounded for my college auditions."

"You have literally never given two fucks about your vocal abilities, and you know it," Hana says, grinning and resting her chin on his shoulder. "You can play eight instruments. You don't have to give a fuck about your vocal abilities."

"Still," Himchan says.

"Crushing on him that hard, huh."

Himchan frowns at her.

"Oh come on, I'm not stupid. You go to talk to Yoo Youngjae at Mujigae, magically disappear for the rest of the night, act even weirder than usual the next day, and not a week later you're trying out for the choir."

"You make it sound like I'm whoring out my musical abilities for some underclassman," Himchan says, faking a tone of wounded pride.

"Are you?"

"Yes." Himchan drops the act, and laughs ruefully. He scrubs one hand over his face. "It doesn't matter. I'm not going to get in anyway. And I honestly didn't even mean to get this audition. I just opened my big dumb mouth again, and suddenly I'm here."

"I bet Yoo Youngjae would probably like you to open that big, dumb--"

"Hana!"

"Just sayinggggg." Hana kisses him on the cheek. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Himchan rolls his eyes and swats her away. "As soon as I am over this stupid crush thing we are having words," he says, pointing at her. "You never told me all the details about whats-her-name from the club. And you never told me if Hyosung said yes."

"Um," Hana says, grabbing her backpack. "Gotta run, bye!"

"Hana!" Himchan shouts, through the open doorway. "Jung Hana, when I get my hands on you I'll--Oh," he says dumbly, as Yoo Youngjae walks through the door.

"Sunbae," Youngjae says, bowing warily. He's standing awkwardly in the doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder. He's stuffed his jacket into his bag, and rolled up his shirt sleeves and loosened his tie. Himchan blinks, and considers reevaluating his feelings about Youngjae in his school uniform. And his mouth--actually, no. Himchan just won't look at his mouth. He isn't going to go there.

"I'm sorry," Youngjae says. "Was I interrupting something?"

"No," Himchan says, standing up from the piano bench. "No, I'm--I'm sorry. Just a...joke."

"Right," Youngjae says. "Well, I don't think we've met before. I'm Yoo Youngjae." He gives Himchan a deep, polite bow. "I'm one of the section leader for the tenors. Our other leader, Jung Daehyun, will be here in a minute. We wanted to get here early to see if you...needed anything."

Himchan blinks. He hadn't known Youngjae's tone could go quite that frosty. If he didn't know better, he'd say that he and Daehyun had shown up early to interrupt Himchan's practice time. To throw him off his game. Himchan swallows, and ignores the slightly sick feeling in his stomach. Youngjae obviously doesn't recognize him at all. Himchan feels ugly and awkward without his makeup and his contacts.

"Ah," Himchan says. "No, thank you. I'm just practicing and warming up. I appreciate your concern. I'm Kim Himchan. It's nice to meet you, section leader." He bows to Youngjae.

Youngjae nods, and doesn't say anything in return. He sits down in one of the chairs facing the piano and then takes his homework out.

Himchan frowns.

He is totally trying to throw Himchan off his game, what the fuck.

"Please, Sunbae," Youngjae says, after a long moment when Himchan is silent, still standing next to the piano. He's looking up at Himchan through his eyelashes. Himchan decides that that should be illegal, starting now. "Don't let me bother you. I have calculus to work on. The rest of our section should be here soon."

"Of...course," Himchan says. He raises an eyebrow, and sits back down.

Fine, he thinks, trying not to smile to himself as he breaks into an improvisational jazz piece. It's difficult and he hasn't quite mastered it yet, but Youngjae won't know that. Fine. You want to try to throw me off? Two can play at this game.

--

"He's really fucking good," Daehyun says, in a stage whisper that resembles nothing so much as a muted yell. He nudges Youngjae in what he probably thinks is a subtle manner.

Youngjae watches the boy behind the piano--Himchan. The corner of his mouth quirks up when Daehyun whispers, and then he's calm again, utterly focused. He's gone from jazz to classical to popular ballads and now he's back to classical again, playing something that Youngjae thinks might be Chopin. There's something maddeningly familiar about him, and it's driving Youngjae nuts.

"Shut up," Youngjae whispers back, annoyed that Daehyun is right.

He hasn't managed to complete a single calculus problem so far.

--

Himchan stands next to the piano as he listens to Kang seonsaengnim introduce him and explain--as Himchan was starting to suspect--that Himchan's mid-semester audition is a result of the tenor section needing to replace a member. He bows to the group of assembled students, and then sits down at the piano and closes his eyes and breathes in deep and slow. Then he opens them, and nods at Kang seonsaengnim.

"I will be singing and playing Ge Sheng Mei Ying," Himchan says. "And as my Chinese is not as good as it could be, I will be singing it as Con Te Partirò in the original Italian." Someone snorts in the background, and Himchan waits until the whispers die down. He understands their disbelief. He's no Zhang Hui Mei, and he's certainly no Andrea Bocelli.

"This is my own arrangement, so I hope you will give it your support," Himchan says. There's a second round of surprised murmurs, but just Himchan ignores them and begins to play the opening sequence.

He's always liked this song, despite the fact that it's overdone. It's standard fare for pop-classical singers who think that sheer volume can overcome technique, but Himchan has been working on another version all semester. He's been increasing the difficulty of the piano arrangement and introducing tempo shifts, as well as rewriting it in a key that better suits his range.

The result is a surprisingly soft and beautiful arrangement of a song that most music majors consider to be a horror show. Himchan knows his Italian isn't perfect, but as he flicks his eyes up to the crowd, he's not sure it matters. The entire room is utterly silent except for the piano and the sound of his voice. He's not trying to push anything; he knows the limits of his own range, and there's nothing operatic about his style. But when he does let himself start to open up for the chorus, he thinks he sees a shadow of approval on Youngjae's face.

Maybe it's strangely appropriate, he thinks, as he watches Youngjae's face slowly change from annoyance to amazement. He has no idea if Youngjae knows the translations, or understands the words. But it song itself is both sad and hopeful, and he lets himself make eye contact with Youngjae just once, before turning back to his handwritten sheet music.

Maybe a love song was the way to go after all.

--

Daehyun is, no surprise, all smiles after Himchan has finished his piece and been formally welcomed to the tenor section. “Ah, Sunbae, you did so well! Why didn’t you try out before?”

Himchan shrugs. “I’m pretty busy in the afternoons with my other lessons,” he says quietly. Then he looks up and grins, showing slightly-too-large front teeth. “Besides, I needed time to find the perfect song to fool you all into thinking I have talent.”

The guy at the piano--straight backed and confident, not at all shy about meeting Youngjae’s gaze--had been totally different from the goofy, awkward sunbae with the floppy bangs that had been practicing when Youngjae arrived. As soon as his first notes on the piano had sounded, it was clear that Himchan hadn’t needed to fool anyone.

Even now, there’s some lingering difference in Kim Himchan’s easy smile and the casual way he puts the sheet music back in his bag. It’s strangely familiar, but Youngjae doesn’t know who he’s reminded of.

“Yeah, well none of us are going to be the next Seo Junghack,” he says. “Not even Daehyun.” Daehyun scowls and punches him in the arm in a mostly friendly way. Youngjae scowls right back, and then gives Himchan his best smile. He's starting to feel like a real jerk for how he treated Himchan earlier. “You did really well, Sunbae.”

Himchan smirks, like Youngjae’s said something funny. “Thanks,” he says. “And please, just call me hyung. We’re all friends here.”

“Right? We’re all friends,” Daehyun says. “And Youngjae here is going to take us out for coffee to welcome you to the tenor section.”

“What?” Youngjae hadn’t agreed to that; he’d just said they ought to do something to welcome Himchan to the section. Daehyun is always weaseling his way out of paying for things. It’s really terrible. “When did I say that I would …”

Himchan lays a hand on both their shoulders. “Relax, kids,” he says. “Let’s go get coffee. I’ll treat.” He smiles, and it’s that happy, confident smile again; the one that looks so familiar to Youngjae, and makes him a little nervous, all at the same time. “I’m the hyung, after all.”

--

Himchan insists on taking them to his favorite coffee shop. It’s a little bit further away from school than Youngjae usually goes, which is fine except that he didn’t get all of his calculus done (How could he have, once Himchan started singing?) and now he’s nervous he’s not going to get home in time to get it all done. Frowning, he kicks at the ground. Himchan and Daehyun are a few feet ahead of him, deeply engrossed in some conversation about music that Youngjae isn’t really following.

It’s stupid; he’s a singer too, and he’s been training hard for a long time, but between’s Daehyun’s ability and Himchan’s ability he’s feeling a little underwhelming and out of place.
It’s not a feeling he likes but it's one that's sadly familiar. It’s exactly the way he felt that night at the club; too young and not quite on the same page. Youngjae’s not pitying himself-- he’s not. He’s just taking realistic stock of his talents and abilities and acknowledging that he comes up short. Being realistic isn’t a bad thing, after all.

“What are you doing back there?” Daehyun is squinting, wrinkles deep between his eyebrows. “Do you want to go get coffee or what?”

Youngjae sighs. “Yeah,” he says, jogging a few steps to catch up. “Sorry, I’m coming!”

The coffee shop that Himchan takes them to is a fancy place, not just some regular old chain. The sign on the sidewalk advertises cold brew iced coffee and single origin beans, whatever that means. Youngjae likes coffee, but he’s not picky. Himchan holds the door open and lets them go in first.

“Grab a table,” he says to Daehyun. “I’ll take Youngjae and we’ll go order.”

Daehyun nods. “Just get me whatever has the most chocolate. And a muffin,” he says, after a moment’s consideration.

Youngjae rolls his eyes. “Sorry, hyung,” he says. “Daehyun’s second passion behind music is food, and free food is his favorite kind.”

Himchan grins. “He has good taste, then.”

Youngjae half-smiles, and stuffs his hands in his pockets for lack of anything else to do with them. The line is pretty long, and there aren’t really any other kids in here in uniform. Everyone looks older -- college students, Youngjae guesses, or even graduates, installed at the desirable corner tables with their laptops.

“How long have you been in choir?” Himchan asks.

“Since I was a freshman,” Youngjae says. “I’ve always liked singing.”

Himchan nods. “You’re good,” he says.

Youngjae shrugs. “I’m not bad,” he says. “Not good enough to do music professionally or anything, but not bad.”

Himchan shakes his head. “You’re talented,” he says. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Youngjae frowns, because isn’t that exactly what Minkyu had said…?

“Ah, yes,” Himchan says. They’re at the head of the line now. “I’ll have a large iced Americano, and we’ll have an iced mocha with extra chocolate syrup, and a chocolate chip muffin, and …” He glances back over his shoulder at Youngjae. “Youngjae, what do you want?”

Youngjae shakes his head.

“Come on,” Himchan says. “You’ve got to be thirsty after that walk.”

“Just an iced coffee,” Youngjae says. His heart is beating too fast in his chest all of a sudden. Himchan gives him a concerned look before turning back to the cashier and repeating Youngjae's order.

Youngjae doesn’t know what to do.

The guy he'd met at Mujigae had said his name was Minkyu, but maybe Youngjae had just been making a rookie mistake when he'd given his real name. Maybe everyone gives a fake name when they go to Mujigae. Himchan and Minkyu don’t look quite the same, but now that Himchan's taken his jacket off, he’s more willowy than Youngjae would have guessed. His eyes are small behind his glasses, but contacts can make a big difference. His features don’t look quite the same, but his hair is unstyled and falling in his face, and after all hadn’t Himchan --Minkyu-- been the one to point out what a big difference a change in hairstyle can make?

“Hey,” Himchan says. “Here’s your coffee.” The hand wrapped around the plastic cup is large with blunt fingers and calluses -- the hands of a musician.

Oh.

“It was you that night,” Youngjae blurts out. He thinks his stomach might flip itself inside out. “At the -- at the club.”

Himchan shuts his eyes for a second, and he swallows nervously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, just a little tremor in his voice. “I’ve never been to any club.”

“No,” Youngjae says. “It was definitely you. Minkyu, right? Is that the name you give everyone or …”

“I don’t go to clubs,” Himchan says. “I don’t know anyone named Minkyu. I think you’re confusing me for someone else. I’m not …”

Youngjae is a little angry -- irrationally. He reaches out and grabs Himchan’s hand. “Your fingers are the same,” he says. He rubs his thumb over the callous on Himchan’s palm. “I said you should be in a band, remember?”

Himchan squints, suspicious behind the smudgy lenses of his glasses. He swallows nervously. “What are you going to do?” His voice is barely audible over the clinking of coffee cups and friendly chatter. “Beat me up or something? Out me to the whole school?”

Youngjae frowns. Doesn’t he remember that Youngjae is the one who kissed him that night. “No,” he says, annoyed. “Why would I do that? If it’s so important that you keep it secret that you couldn’t even tell me your real name or give me your real number, why would I …”

“Sir? Your coffee?” The girl behind the counter is staring at them, confused.

Himchan blinks, and turns on his bright, friendly smile. Youngjae wonders if he’s blind to have not recognized that smile sooner. Himchan’s hands are shaking though as he hands the coffees over to Youngjae. “Here,” he says. “I’ll tell Kang seonsaengnim that I don’t want to be in chorus. Whatever you want.” He hand Youngjae the last coffee -- his own Americano. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

He's through the door in a moment, crossing the street and fading away into the crowd before Youngjae can even process what just happened.

"Where’s Himchan hyung?" Daehyun says.

“He left,” Youngjae says. He feels so bad now that his stomach hurts. He doesn’t even want the coffee.

Daehyun frowns "What did you say to him? He just bought us coffee and everything--are you seriously that jealous? What did you say to him?" He unwraps his muffin and takes an angry bite.

"I didn't...I don't," Youngjae says faintly. He sits down next to Daehyun and tries to calm his racing heart. "I didn't say anything. I just …I remembered something about him."

"Yeah, well, now we have a pissed-off hyung in our section who isn't going to listen to either of us," Daehyun says, glaring at him. "Good job, genius."

"I didn’t think he’d get this upset. I was just surprised," Youngjae says helplessly. He doesn't know why he's so hung up on this. Fuck, he doesn't even know why he's so hung up on Minkyu--Himchan--whatever. He just feels stupid and ashamed and embarrassed. Himchan must have known all along.

"What did you remember?" Daehyun says sarcastically. He sips his iced-sugar-whatever. "Is Himchan hyung going out with Han Sunhwa? Because they’re always hanging out together and I know you said you were over it but you used to have such a crush on her in middle school. Youngjae, if that’s it you’ve just got to get over it.”

"No. He’s definitely not dating Sunhwa. It was .. the other day."

Daehyun's expression immediately turns deeply suspicious.

"Spill," he says, holding Youngjae's gaze. He takes another bite of his muffin. Part of Youngjae wants to laugh, because Daehyun isn't intimidating at the best of times and he's certainly not very intimidating with chocolate smeared on his mouth, but the rest of him is too terrified to even think up a convincing lie.

"I, we've just. We've." Youngjae takes a deep breath. "We've met before."

"We all go to the same school." Daehyun is not impressed.

"We met outside of school."

"Okay?"

"He didn't tell me his real name!"

"Maybe he didn't want you to know!" Daehyun says, giving Youngjae an incredulous look. "What, is this some kind of drama love story gone wrong? Jesus, what did the guy do? Did he kiss you and then leave you at the altar or something?"

Youngjae chokes on thin air. He wants to say something to deny it, but he knows his whole face is flushed bright red with misery and guilt. He knows there's no way he can lie to Daehyun about something as important as this.

There's silence at their table for several very long, very painful seconds.

"Oh," Daehyun says quietly, setting his muffin down. "Uh. I didn't know."

"Yeah, well," Youngjae says, staring out the window so he won't have to face his best friend. "Neither did I."

--

Part 2