Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The music is so loud Jeongin can feel it pumping in his head, a pop tune he feels he should know well playing in the living room of the house he’s currently in.

He tries to bob his head to the music and tune in to the rhythm of it but there's an odd kind of bother sitting under his skin. Maybe the issue is that he's not dancing. Maybe it's that he's not drunk enough.

"The light shines, it's getting hot on my shoulders.

I don't mind, this time it doesn't matter.

'Cause your friends, they look good and you look better."

"Hey," he turns his head towards Felix. The blonde is busy sipping on his cocktail, red straw bitten in several spots. He just nods at Jeongin, acknowledging him, so Jeongin feels free to voice his thoughts to him. "Don't you think this line is kind of rude?"

"What?"

"The line— It's—"

Jeongin doesn't even bother continuing. How can he, when he intercepts the spot Felix's gaze is fixed on?

Right under the purple lights, in the center of the living room, Minho is accepting the hand of none other than Bang Chan. He intertwines their fingers and tugs, making Chan giggle before joining him in the start of a sway.

"I don't know what surprises me more," Felix says before biting into his straw again for a second. "That they're getting back together after what happened or that Channie hyung is at a party."

Honestly, Jeongin is far from surprised. Minho and Chan have been a constant in his life since high school, an on and off that has been on going for years. If they're not fated, then they must be doomed.

Only a week ago, they had a major break up during their spring break trip. Jeongin heard both of their sides and, this time, he put his sly fingers on the couple's reconciliation.

If there's one thing he has been sure since forever, is that the two are meant for each other — Jeongin is a romantic, sue him — if only things wouldn't come between them so often…

Doomed, yes. It's a fated doomed love.

"I'm not," he says to Felix. "I sent Chan hyung the address an hour ago."

Blonde hair flutter under the neon lights like a flash as Felix turns to finally look at Jeongin. "You!" He looks a mix of horrified, surprised and exhilarated. Felix loves playing Cupido, he must love and hate that Jeongin surpassed him this time.

Jeongin leans a shoulder on the railing of the stairs and smirks smugly. "Yeah, yeah, I did that," he prides himself. "Beat you to it."

Felix slaps him lightly on the arm, a fake offended expression on his face. "How dare you not involve me in this!"

Jeongin laughs and shies away from the touch, shielding himself with a hand raised between them.

It's not easy to get Chan to open up, so it was a careful work trying to convince him to come over and apologize to Minho instead of brooding in his room. Minho is also well known for holding grudges so one could only imagine how difficult the past days must've been for Jeongin.

However, he couldn't let things just be, he felt a strong sense of urgency to help his two friends getting back together that he couldn't brush away no matter what. So here he is now, watching Minho rolling his eyes before wrapping his arms around Chan's shoulders and leaning in to whisper something in his ear.

Jeongin feels like his night might as well be over now, a sense of finality washing all the worries off his shoulders. He offers the rest of his beer to Felix and goes down the last steps of the stairs, ready to walk back home.

Just as he's on the last step though, he bumps shoulders with someone coming up. It's a common occurrence at such crowded parties, but, for once, it feels odd.

Instead of walking forward as he usually would, Jeongin turns to look at the man who bumped into him, meeting his eyes in a fleeting moment. Something shoots right in his chest and pierces it at the mere eye contact with the handsome stranger standing a couple of steps above him, and it feels monumental, somehow, that he's looking right back at him.

Short hair and dark make up around his pretty eyes, the stranger blinks at Jeongin before turning around. His t-shirt sits right over his hips, revealing the tattoo on his right side that reaches his back, and Jeongin is entranced by the sight. By him.

Jeongin has never pursued any feeling related to attraction or love before, so it's odd and new for him to not go back to his steps and instead go up the stairs again. He's shyer than this, more reserved than this. And yet he's reaching for the stranger's shoulder as soon as he intercepts him on the first floor corridor.

The man turns around, thick eyebrows furrowed, and looks at Jeongin from the bottom up. His eyes widen when they settle on Jeongin's face, pretty, dark brown accompanied by a constellation of dark blue and silver glitter.

"Do we know each other?" Jeongin asks. He feels something rushing through his veins, adrenaline, a deep sense of belonging that scares him. "Do we… share some classes, maybe?"

God, he must sound insane. He feels insane. Jeongin never gets out of his comfort bubble like this, he doesn't speak to strangers, he doesn't chase strangers. 

"I don't know who you are," the man answers bluntly, already slipping through Jeongin's fingers as he shrugs his hand off his shoulder.

But there's more to his gaze, something that makes Jeongin feel a sudden wave of sadness.

What is going on with him?

"Are you sure?" He insists, oddly feeling on the verge of tears. Maybe he was actually drunk enough, or maybe that weed brownie he had before coming to the party is fully kicking in. "I'm sorry," he suddenly apologizes, coming to his senses.

He takes one step back and then another, but can't stop looking at the man in front of him. It feels wrong to walk away.

Other people pass at their sides in the corridor, they brush against Jeongin's shoulders, and yet it’s not the same as what happened earlier. He has eyes only for the person right in front of him, who seems to hesitate too in walking away.

“Ayeni!”

Minho’s voice reaches Jeongin’s ears in the chaos of the first floor, making him turn around. Arms wrap around his shoulders before he even focuses his sight on his hyung, just a flutter of bleached white and blue hair.

He bursts energy through all his seams, which means only one thing: he and Chan got back together.

“We’re going back to the dorms,” Minho leaves unspoken who the pronoun is referring to, “you need a lift, right?” His voice slurs a bit from the alcohol but it only makes Jeongin connect back to reality as fondness spreads through his chest.

“Yeah, hyung, thank you.”

“Great,” Minho’s lips spread in one of his usual cheeky smirks. “Let’s go, foxie.”

Jeongin gives one glance behind his shoulders before letting Minho drag him back to the stairs. The man is long gone.

📖

Flower petals are gently following the wind outside, creating a beautiful pink rain that Jeongin would much rather be under than listening to today’s lecture.

He aimlessly draws on the corner of his page instead of taking notes as Professor Tomlinson goes quickly over the new chapter of their physics course book before moving to the next.

Jeongin isn’t quite sure why he picked engineering as a major, he’s more into arts, actually. He spends all his free time listening and thinking about music, while his friends are actually pursuing it as a lifelong goal. But his grades are good with minimum effort and his parents are proud of him, so he’s sticking with it. No matter how boring lectures can be.

Every other student has their head buried in their notes trying to catch up with Professor Tomlinson’s demonstration on the blackboard and, not for the first time, Jeongin wonders what’s so difficult about it.

There’s only one other person not paying attention, looking out of the windows just like he was. Jeongin recognizes immediately the short haircut, the gentle slight curve in the bridge of his nose, the relaxed expression. It’s him. Again.

There’s a whole row of students between them, so Jeongin can’t do much if not observe. His notes are nonexistent as his notebook is only filled with sketches of the view outside, like he, just like Jeongin, is finding the lecture boring or easy.

Jeongin isn’t sure whether to approach him again or not, he didn’t seem that friendly at the party a couple of weeks ago, but no matter his decision, right now he can’t keep his eyes off him. He watches as his fingers drag the ballpoint pen over the paper, outlining a branch before starting to decorate it with blooming peach flowers.

Jeongin isn’t sure for how much he stays focused on him nor if Professor Tomlinson moved finally to a new topic or not. He gets distracted only when the classroom door opens and a curly head pops in.

“Could I steal Louis from you for a bit?”

Professor Styles whispers softly to the class as if he’s not communicating with around fifty students. Everyone eagerly nods, probably wanting to escape the lecture just as much as Jeongin.

“I was in the middle of—”

“Perfect,” the literature professor doesn’t worry a bit in interrupting Professor Tomlinson, flashing him a smile. “Class is dismissed then.”

The protest coming from the other professor gets drowned out by the sighs of the many students in the class and the sounds of backpacks getting zipped up. There’s no way the class can go back to the quiet environment it was before, and Professor Tomlinson groans as he gets dragged out quickly, his bag hastily packed and hanging from Professor Styles’ shoulder.

Honestly, Jeongin doesn’t mind one bit. He has something more important to do than pretending to listen to a physics lecture.

He shoves everything in his shoulder bag quickly and clumsily skips one row of seats to reach the man from the other night, sliding in the seat in front of him and sitting so they can face each other.

Jeongin isn’t good at this, whatever this is - conversations with people he’s not close to. He can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks as the man looks up at him from his drawing and sports an awkward smile when he hears him sigh.

“Hi.”

The man closes his notebook quickly and looks away, busying himself with packing his stuff. “Class is dismissed.”

“I know,” Jeongin immediately answers back. God, what’s wrong with him? Why did he come up to this man again with no idea on what to say?

But the pull is too strong, Jeongin doesn’t want to be anywhere else if not under his judging stare. Terrible and electrifying at the same time.

“Then go,” the man sighs, standing up. 

Jeongin follows him instinctively, getting up from his seat too. It seems enough to make the other roll his eyes at him and oh— why is Jeongin’s heart skipping a beat? 

“Jeonginnie, really, I can’t do this again.”

For the first time since spotting the man in class, Jeongin’s brain seems to get out of the odd trance it was in.

“You said you don’t know me.”

The man realizes only later his words, his whole body halting in motion.

“Right,” he says, looking away. “I don’t.”

Jeongin risks tripping down the stairs a couple of times while following him out. He bumps into students and almost gets the classroom door slammed into his face, but it doesn’t matter. His head is starting to spin a little and yet he doesn’t waver, following the man down to the campus fountain.

A zap of electricity dances up his arm when he finally manages to wrap his fingers around the man’s wrist, making him turn around to face him.

“You said my name,” he heaves, out of breath. Worse. He called Jeongin sweetly. “And ‘again’ and…” 

The earth under Jeongin’s feet feels made of soft cotton as a strong feeling of nausea washes over him. He closes his eyes for a second in reaction to the sudden lack of vision, a flash of black that almost makes him lose his balance.

“Hey.” The man’s voice brings him back to reality gently. “Let’s find a place where you can sit, okay?”

He carefully unwraps Jeongin’s fingers from around his wrist only to raise Jeongin’s arm up and around his wide shoulders. And Jeongin can’t do much if not falling into the warmth of this stranger’s side, letting him escort him to a quieter and more secluded place behind the engineering faculty main building.

There’s a small private garden, freshly cut grass and a tree the man sits Jeongin against. The wood feels solid behind Jeongin’s back and his eyesight finally starts to clear.

“Innie,” the man calls him sweetly, his manicured fingers moving aside Jeongin’s hair to feel the temperature of his skin. Jeongin likes the touch, it’s cool, and it doesn’t feel foreign. “This is the first time it happens, I’m sorry, I’m not sure what to do.”

His eyes are way different from earlier. If before he looked at Jeongin with detachment, now his gaze is warm, caring. Guilty too.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jeongin sighs, feeling tired. He’s so disoriented.

The man chuckles fondly. “Yeah, I know,” he says, confusing Jeongin only further. “But you’ll forget about it, the next chapter is close anyway.”

Forget about it? About what? Him? This?

The fingers resting against Jeongin’s forehead rise to his hairline and run through his hair, sending shockwaves of comfort all over Jeongin’s painful head. He falls victim to the touch so easily he should grow even more worried, but instead Jeongin feels comforted, lulled into relaxing.

“Did I forget you?”

The man hums positively, the corners of his lips tilting down slightly before he molds them into a smile. “It’s okay, it wasn’t your choice. I’ll do better from now on.”

Before Jeongin can ask any other question, his eyesight goes blurry again. His eyelids feel heavy and his body too, like he’s turning into stone. And with fingers feeling the softness of his hair, he falls into a deep slumber.

📖

It’s raining when Jeongin wakes up. His head is pounding and something is sitting right behind it, like the reminder of a task he should’ve done and forgot about.

He rubs his eyes as a yawn pulls at his lips and slowly the world comes to focus. He immediately recognizes Chan’s bleached hair in the mess of covers he threw on himself before falling asleep.

He and Minho argued again, another misunderstanding, another issue over Chan’s ex barging into his life unannounced. Jeongin welcomed the man on the verge of tears without a word, waiting patiently for Chan to open up on what had made him walk across campus to knock on his door.

If Minho is like a closed book, Chan is like a secret diary locked in a safe. Communication is their worst enemy, but there isn’t much Jeongin can do if not listen to their worries whenever they decide to open up.

If Chan came to him, then Minho must be at Jisung’s place, licking the wounds of his pride and crumbling under Jisung’s big shiny worried eyes.

Nothing new.

“Chan–a,” Jeongin tries to wake Chan up gently, one hand patting at his shoulder. “Let’s get egg soup for breakfast.”

“Mh, sure, hyungnim,” Chan sighs, rolling in the covers and digging his face in the pillow below his head. He’s one step close to fall into unconsciousness again. Jeongin can’t let that happen, no man will mop in his bed all day.

He kicks Chan’s shin under the cover. “We’re supposed to meet with Seungminnie hyung and Lix hyung at the library in an hour,” he reminds Chan, starting to tug at the bedsheets. Chan hugs them even tighter. “You know how Seungminnie hyung hates us being late.”

“He’ll be too busy making out with Lix in the English literature section.” Chan groans and complains, but Jeongin knows he’s slowly letting go, a sigh escaping his lips right after.

It doesn’t take much coaxing, just a couple of minutes more and Chan’s up and running, dragging his feet and his eyebags to Jeongin’s bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth — stealing once again Jeongin’s spare toothbrush. Once he’s done washing up he comes out with his hair tied up in a messy low bun held together by a bunch of bobby-pins and looking less pale than earlier — Jeongin can only declare it a win. At least he’s not curled in a ball of despair anymore.

Like a good maknae does with their eldest sad friend, Jeongin lends him his clothes, takes him out for breakfast, and forces Chan to get his books from his own room.

If there’s one thing that always helps Chan in not thinking, it’s drowning himself into a task.

Jeongin digs his head in the books all morning too while simultaneously trying to ignore Seungmin and Felix not so subtly flirting on the other side of the desk.

Seungmin has always been diligent with studying, he would always bark at anyone who would try to distract him while he’s focused. But not Felix. Felix can twirl his hair and giggle about the next new internet meme all he wants, even though Seungmin is a prehistorical man who doesn’t know a single pop culture reference that hasn’t been communicated to him priorly.

At the next whispered sentence and subsequent laugh, Jeongin decides to take a small break and leaves a pen in between the pages he was reading as a bookmark.

“I’m getting coffee,” he announces. “Do you want any?”

Chan glances up quickly from his computer to nod a negative answer, while Seungmin and Felix immediately whip out their complicated orders and food requests too with two twin mischievous smiles on their faces. Leeches. They’re lucky Jeongin loves them to the moon and beyond.

The rain pit pats on Jeongin’s umbrella on his way to the nearest campus cafe, along with his shoes walking over the water on the stone steps. It’s the one of the last spring rains, chill and refreshing, kissing gently the skin of Jeongin’s arms.

Spring flew by in the twinkling of an eye, so fast that Jeongin barely has memory of the blooming season. He remembers the pink petals falling down, one getting stuck in somebody’s dark hair, his heart fluttering in his chest.

Suddenly, the dormant pain on the back of his head that he ignored all morning, giving no weight to it, punches violently through his brain.

The umbrella slips from his fingers as his other hand goes to cover his sensitive eyes that lose focus worringly fast, his eyesight going blank. The suffering feels familiar in the way it sends goosebumps all over his wet skin, warning signals blaring red.

He crouches down before he loses his balance, hugging his knees and burning his face in the darkness of the self embrace, where the light from the grey sky doesn’t blind him. The pain pulsates rhythmically, just like the rain falling down on him, and getting drenched is Jeongin’s last problem, because he’s so nauseous he feels he’s close to passing out.

Tears pick at his eyes and sit on his eyelashes as he can’t do more than wait and sigh at every shot of pain.

He barely notices the sound of steps approaching quickly, or the way the water stops hitting his shoulders. Only a voice brings him back to reality, brings back his ability to breathe properly and subdues the ringing in his ears.

“Hey, Innie.”

Fingers pass through Jeongin’s wet bangs, making him look up at the man in front of him. A sense of comfort washes over him and he doesn’t know why, because he has no idea who the person crouching down right in front of him is, to whom the dark brown eyes dancing worriedly all over his frame belong to.

He feels warmth traveling up to his cheeks as his own eyes get lost in the ones that are looking back at him lovingly.

It should feel odd, but, surprisingly, scarily, it feels like home.

“Let’s get you up,” the man says softly, offering his hand to Jeongin. His hair are wet too, just like his clothes, and his other hand is holding the umbrella that Jeongin dropped on the ground, covering them both.

Jeongin shouldn’t take it. He shouldn’t accept the help of a stranger over the limit he usually never surpasses. He should get up on his own and bow politely and leave.

However, Jeongin surprises himself and holds the man’s hand and accepts his help, letting him quietly bring him inside the first building in sight and into an empty classroom.

He weakly sits on the professor’s desk and watches as the man puts his bag aside and unzips his hoodie, revealing toned arms and a band shirt that feels somewhat familiar.

“I don’t have much, but…” he approaches Jeongin slowly and Jeongin doesn’t even flinch when the man attempts to get closer to dry Jeongin’s hair with his own damp hoodie. “Why’s the writer making you sick, now?” He mumbles nonsense to himself, all while Jeongin sits silently, unable to process what is happening.

His eyes scan details that don’t seem new, plump lips and beauty marks fading below a thin layer of makeup.

“Do we know each other?” Jeongin asks, the words not feeling foreign to his own lips, like they’ve been uttered several times before.

The man sighs in a way in between exhaustion and fondness. “Yeah, you could say so,” he answers, his gaze still focused over Jeongin’s now damp hair. He pats the fabric of the hoodie down the side of Jeongin’s neck, collecting more droplets of water. “I’m sorry, I promised I would stop.”

Another abrupt flash of pain shoots through Jeongin’s head, making him flinch and close his eyes. Instead of seeing black, he sees a blurry reality, accompanied by the muffled sound of someone’s voice.

“I’ll do better from now on,” it says, softly as the brush of the petal that caresses Jeongin’s cheek as it falls down. “I promise.”

When Jeongin opens his eyes again, he’s back into the gloomy empty classroom, two hands cupping his cheeks, warm and damp, reconnecting him with reality.

“Tell me what you feel.” The stranger’s fingers gently brush Jeongin’s hair out of his eyesight and linger on his cheekbones. Jeongin isn’t sure why he still hasn’t shied away from the touch.

“I have… a headache, I think.”

“Okay,” the man sighs. “I’ll take you to the infirmary just this once.”

“Why…” Jeongin’s voice fades out under the man’s intense worried gaze. “Why do you talk like this?”

A bitter sweet smile spreads on the man’s face, like he knows something Jeongin doesn’t, like he knows Jeongin inside out even though they’ve never met before. His lips part to speak, but then close again for a pause. “Doesn’t matter,” he dismisses, “you’ll forget about it soon.”

Jeongin’s forced to close his eyes again. He feels his face slipping from the man’s hold as he flinches away and irritation grows under his skin, while the pain fades out quicker than before.

“Stop being so cryptic, Hyunjin—a,” he complains, boring his eyes on the man in front of him.

This time, he’s not met with a worried gaze, but rather with a shocked one. Beautiful dark eyes widen as plump lips part.

“You said my name.”

“I—” Jeongin stops his instant rebuttal in realization. “What?”

“You…” Hyunjin? takes one step back, putting distance between him and Jeongin. “This shouldn’t be happening.”

“That I know you?” Jeongin asks. He gets off the desk, compelled to get closer to the one that’s suddenly putting a distance between them. “Why do I know you?”

Sadly, Jeongin had miscalculated his condition when he got on his feet, because he loses his balance quickly, almost falling on top of the other man.

He catches Jeongin easily, and yet again the touch doesn’t feel new nor foreign. His voice is barely a whisper, kind. 

“Careful.”

“Yeah I—” Jeongin halts in his speech as he looks up, suddenly very close to the stranger. His heart skips two beats, making the third feeling like a monumental jump in his chest. “Hyunjin, right?” He asks quietly.

There’s something in his eyes, in his nose and lips and eyelashes. Jeongin knows it all already and doesn’t know him at all. He can sense another shock of pain incoming as the contrast solidifies in his mind.

“Right,” the man, Hyunjin, whispers with a hint of wonder in his tone. His smile lights a spark in Jeongin’s heart, the last thing he feels before the world turns pitch black.

📖

Jeongin wakes up in the library. He’s resting his head over his arms and notes and his eyes feel heavy, as if he had slept for a very long time.

In front of him, a cup of half drank coffee is resting on top of the table along with his pencil case. He has no memory of buying coffee, nor of ever getting wet, although his clothes still feel damp just like his hair.

“Oh, Yeni woke up.”

Jeongin has to tilt his head to the side and rest his cheek on his hand to look up at Chan. He blinks a couple of times before he and his white bleached hair come into focus, reminding him of Minho. They really are two sides of the same coin.

“How much did I sleep?” Jeongin is lacking memory of anything happening after opening his umbrella outside the library, should he be concerned?

Seungmin’s expression is a mix of worry and mischievousness, like he wants to tease but his responsible side is holding him back. “You should’ve gone back to your room,” he scolds him quietly, his lips turning downwards into an involuntary pout.

“Yeah,” Felix agrees with him. He has an even more troubled expression, his eyebrows knitting as he extends a hand to graze Jeongin’s damp hair. “You didn’t have to go through all that to get us food.”

From what Jeongin can gather: he got caught in the rain even though he had an umbrella, got the coffees and the food resting on the table, and passed out shortly after that. It must be the exhaustion that 's making it impossible for him to remember any of this, there’s no other explanation for the fog in his brain.

“Mh, it’s okay,” he dismisses everything as he starts stretching his tired arms. He feels something popping in his shoulder and hums along with the sound, it feels kind of nice. His eyes fall on the clock on the wall right at Felix and Seungmin’s shoulders. “We still have half an hour before lunch, right?”

Chan hums in affirmation, his eyes still scanning Jeongin. “Do you want to sleep more?”

“No.” Jeongin has to get some studying done, actually, whether he feels like he could use another nap or not. “I need to go get a book.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Chan is quick in sliding down his headphones around his neck, but Jeongin stops him from closing his laptop too and getting up. He doesn’t need all this care, it’s okay, he’s okay. He just needs to reach the chemistry’s aisle, it’s nothing monumental. Also, he’s just seen another familiar bleached head walking through the desks and two fierce cat eyes boring right into Chan’s back.

“It’s okay, hyung, stay.”

Jeongin gets up before Minho reaches their table and in time for them to exchange one fleeting look. He’s sure Felix and Seungmin will start to pack their bags in around thirty seconds or so to give the two loverbirds space to reconcile, and he’s not in the right condition to be a mediator.

He starts wandering through the bookshelves makeshift corridors, taking his sweet time before getting to the one he’s actually interested in. He needs at least a couple of minutes to kill, enough time for Minho and Chan to take their conversation outside.

Different titles of English literature steal his attention, things that he’s never read but he’s sure Seungmin knows front and back. What fascinates him the most though it’s one simple white book, no name on the side if not the title.

“Stole My Heart,” Jeongin reads the title quietly to himself before taking the book out of the shelf to check if the name of the author is written on the cover. However, he finds nothing, just the title imprinted in the same golden color.

Something else catches his eyes before he can flip the cover open: in the space left by the book, there’s a magic window to a pretty sight. Sitting down on the opposite side of the bookshelf sits another student, stunning in his looks, delicate and fierce. Beautiful.

He’s sitting down on the carpeted floor, reading quietly under the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling.

Jeongin is enraptured by the view, so much that when the man looks up he gets startled and stumbles back, embarrassed for being caught. He bumps against the other shelves of books behind him, making some of them fall, and ponders if he could run away without looking too pathetic and weird.

Before he can pick up more than two books, however, the other has bridged the gap between them by walking around the shelves. He has headphones resting on his shoulders, his hair and clothes damp and the book he was reading in one hand.

“Sorry,” Jeongin says, because he can’t muster up anything more. He feels pathetic. He hopes to not look the part at least.

The student walks close to him and just lays his eyes on Jeongin, not saying a word.

“I wasn’t staring,” Jeongin blurts out, feeling like an ant under a microscope. “I just picked a book and…” His voice grows quieter under the man’s stare, deep brown eyes dancing all over his face.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft, sweet, it reaches Jeongin’s ears like the gentlest peck.

Jeongin nods. “Yes,” he utters. “It was nothing, I was just startled.”

Jeongin never really had crushes, interests, so he never focused too much on his identity when it came to attraction. He might like men though — the ones with pretty brown eyes and short dark hair, plump lips and tiny beauty marks sitting on their skin like stars.

“Good, okay.”

When he turns around, giving Jeongin his back, Jeongin feels a sense of nostalgia, an urgency to not let him go so quickly, so he opens his lips, even though what comes out of them surprises him.

“Wait, Hyunjin.”

The name feels like it was ripped right out of his chest, pulled by an invisible string. Jeongin misses his heartbeat for a second along with his breath and then— he remembers.

Their shoulders bumping on the stairs, their conversation at the end of their class, the tender eyes that looked at him with concern under the rain. The confusion is high, but not as much as the need to stop Hyunjin from leaving, whoever he might be. 

Jeongin wraps his fingers around his wrist, steady, maybe too strongly, but he needs to get answers. He needs—

“Hyunjin, don’t leave, wait. Not again.”

Hyunjin has a pained expression when he turns around.“Jeonginnie, I don’t know why you’ve started doing this now, but let me go,” he says, eyebrows furrowed, deep sorrow in his eyes. “These last two months have been excruciating.”

“Months?”

Jeongin feels dumb in asking such a question to someone he doesn’t even remember, but all his life seems perfectly in place as always, except this one small tassel that keeps appearing and disappearing. “Do I…” he stalls, feeling self conscious, worried. “Do I have amnesia or something?”

“Oh, Innie,” Hyunjin sighs, and the sadness on his face softens into something that looks less self centered, redirected towards another subject.

He pities him. He pities Jeongin.

“I do…” Jeongin realizes, Hyunjin’s wrist slipping through his fingers. “But why you?” He takes one step forward instead. “Who are you? A classmate? A friend?”

A lover?

He backs Hyunjin up until his shoulders hit the shelves in the exact same spot where Jeongin took the book and got a glimpse at Hyunjin. He wonders how many times it has happened already, how many times he has forgotten about him.

“Innie,” Hyunjin’s eyes look down at him, only a few centimeters separating them in both height and space.

“Who are you to call me that?” Jeongin presses.

Hyunjin looks away, his eyes escape Jeongin’s fierce and determined gaze, and widen slightly as they fall on the carpeted floor. Jeongin follows his line of sight immediately and stops on one of the books on the floor.

He didn’t remember dropping it, but it fell perfectly on its back so it doesn’t matter. “I’ll put it back in place later."

He dismisses it quickly, but Hyunjin seems still drawn to the object, giving it one longer look before giving all his attention back to Jeongin. “Did you read it?”

Jeongin is growing even more impatient. Who knows when he will faint next.

“Does it matter?” He asks rhetorically, annoyed. But Hyunjin doesn’t seem to find it an unimportant detail, his pupils waver as they look back at Jeongin, his breath stuck in his chest for a second. “What is it?”

“Jeonginnie.” Hyunjin places a hand on Jeongin’s arm, gently inviting him to step back. “Let’s sit down, I’ll explain it all to you. Or try.”

Jeongin is skeptical, he might lose his strength and grip of reality if he ever relaxes. He needs to hold onto whatever is keeping him upright and conscious right now.

“No,” he denies the offer and places his hands on both sides of Hyunjin’s head on the shelves behind him. He’s not losing this opportunity. He’s not nauseated, he’s not tired, he is present for what seems and feels like the first time. “You’re doing it here, now,” he insists.

“It’s a long stor—”

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t faint again.”

“Innie, I don’t want you to faint,” Hyunjin sighs. TThe hurt in his voice is evident, but who is Jeongin to resonate with it? Who is Jeongin to feel guilty for doubting Hyunjin?

Because he does, and it’s unnerving.

“Okay,” Hyunjin breathes out as Jeongin doesn’t say anything. “We’re friends. We were all friends before, but you all forgot about me.”

It sounds absurd and fake, and yet Jeongin’s guilt grows. Hyunjin’s words feel sincere. Not because he’s a good liar, but because Jeongin feels a reality settling on the back of his mind.

“We are— I can’t believe I’m doing this…” 

Hyunjin utters the last sentence to himself and then looks right back at Jeongin with less sorrow, almost embarrassed to utter out loud what he’s going to say next.

“We’re characters of a story.”

📖

A fan fiction. 

Jeongin is reading a fan fiction and it’s not a link that Jisung sent him in the middle of the night telling him that he has to sacrifice his sleep for it even though Jeongin has no idea of who Spock and Captain Kirk are. No, this is them.

Or, more exactly, Minho and Chan.

Jeongin is just a side character, the organized, down to heart and direct friend who they both talk to when they need to be faced with the truth.

Changbin and Jisung are the loyal friends who butt heads because they care too much about their best friends, always picking opposite sides, and Felix and Seungmin are the secondary couple, developing in the background.

There’s too many personal and private moments for Jeongin not to believe that this is all fake or a prank orchestrated by his friends. There are… intimate things. Things that Jeongin skipped reading because he doesn’t want to know what happens in a bedroom when Chan and Minho are alone. Or bathrooms. Or changing rooms. Or—

Jeongin probably needs another amnesia, or to wash his eyes and brain with bleach.

“You’re not in it.”

Hyunjin isn’t present in one single line, not even barely mentioned, not even described as a passing by character in the background of scenes.

“I was there,” Hyunjin says, “I was deleted, every trace. I’m honestly surprised I’m still… real. Or fake. I really don’t know.” He shakes his head at the end, trying to recalibrate before sadness takes over him once more.

It’s a confusing existence, now that Jeongin is aware of it. Everything, all of this, is words on paper. They exist because they were planned, written down, their lives could be easily wiped away with just one backspace.

This university, their families, their city and their whole world.

Jeongin is glad he eventually accepted to sit down.

He quickly flips through the last pages, so many and all white. This must be the rest of the story, the remaining chapters of his and his friends' lives. Will their world stop ending after the epilogue?

“Maybe we can’t disappear,” Jeongin starts pondering out loud. “You said this is based on reality, right? That we’re a secondary story to a main one?”

Jeongin goes back to the first page where several details are listed. Minho and Chan might be the main characters here, but they were the side couple to another story, otherwise it wouldn’t be listed as a spin off on the first page. Jeongin owes Jisung and his sci-fi Star Trek fan fictions a big fat apology for helping him build a knowledge on fan stories.

“Here.” He points his finger on a specific line. “Blue To My Green Spin Off,” he reads out loud. Hyunjin hums to his words.

There are several other details listed right after, like every element has to be specified, tags. This must be online somewhere, or will be. Some fucked up digital multiverse.

“Is it anywhere here?” Jeongin asks, referring to the story he just read the title of.

“I’ve been looking for it after finding this one,” Hyunjin starts, his tone revealing the sad rest of his answer, “but I couldn’t find it anywhere.”

Jeongin needs a minute, maybe two or three, but he’s too afraid to rest his eyes or to focus on the pain growing in his head. “And who the fuck is Larry Stylinson?”

“That’s…” Hyunjin cringes slightly and scoots closer, knee and shoulders now glued to Jeongin’s own. His index finger goes over the name written on the paper as he speaks. “Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson.”

The realization hits Jeongin in one incredulous chuckle. “Our professors?”

Hyunjin laughs too, his back relaxing against the shelves behind them. “Yes, them.”

“Ew.”

“I know, I know,” Hyunjin says in between his giggles. “Our professors banging are the reason we exist.”

Jeongin hides his own head in between his knees as he laughs. “This is so tragic.”

“It is kind of fun maybe,” Hyunjin says. He sneaks a hand in the space left between Jeongin’s body and his knees, waving his fingers in his field of vision. “At least now that I’m not the only one knowing about it.”

Hyunjin must’ve felt very lonely, Jeongin isn’t even sure how he stomached it all alone. His whole existence got erased, every proof of him except his physical body and his memories gone. Hyunjin has been living like a ghost for the past year, passing by his friends who are now treating him like a stranger.

Jeongin understands now why he was so rude to him that night at the party, why he dismissed Jeongin that day in class — he must be deeply hurt.

He straightens his back and closes the book in his lap. Jeongin’s not known to hate on deities, but he deeply despises whoever wrote them and severed their bond like Hyunjin doesn’t matter. As if, even if on paper, he’s not someone they’ve brought to life.

“I won’t forget you this time.”

“Innie.”

Nothing can change Jeongin’s mind now, not even Hyunjin’s slightly pained expression. Actually, it has an opposite effect on him, the perfect motivation.

“We’ll insert you back in this story.”

Chapter Text

The scent of ramyeon fills the room as Hyunjin lifts the lid on his cup and stirs the food inside. His glittery dark eyeshadow shines under the light of Jeongin’s nightstand lamp and his eyebrows furrow at the first mouthful of food.

He bites on it with a happy hum, puffy lips curving in a closed smile, and in Jeongin’s heart something shakes, like his subconscious has missed this more than he ever knew.

He and Hyunjin used to be childhood friends, they met one day because Hyunjin’s old dog ran off and they had been inseparable since then. Hyunjin had been next to Jeongin when he got his braces, when he sneaked out at night to play games at the nearest PCbang, and guided him through his last high school exams, freshly graduated and excited to help Jeongin enter the same Seoul university as him and their new friends.

All of these memories are now gone. When Jeongin thinks back to all of those moments, he sees one of his brothers next to him, or his mother.

He knows it's not his fault, that there’s a higher being choosing their destiny for them, but guilt sits in his chest nonetheless. Jeongin will do anything to give Hyunjin a glimpse of his old life back.

Hyunjin was there way before Minho, Jisung and Seungmin, way before Chan and Changbin and Felix. Of course he couldn’t be completely erased, not when he was somewhere still stored in Jeongin’s heart.

That can’t be deleted.

Jeongin’s feelings are real. Strong.

“So, you’ll come to our study session tomorrow morning,” Jeongin communicates to Hyunjin, putting away his phone after having texted their friends’ group chat.

“If you’ll remember me tomorrow,” Hyunjin says casually. It seems like his hopes are riding a rollercoaster, reaching high and low several times. Right now they’re low, but Jeongin can understand.

“I will, I told you.”

“We’ve never gotten this far, so maybe you have a point.” Hyunjin shoves another big bite of noodles in his mouth, probably to put an end to the current conversation. His nonchalance hides a year of hurting and the need to not believe too much into something that might not happen. “I’m glad we’re together tonight, though. I’ve missed this.”

Jeongin feels like he has been missing spending time with Hyunjin too, even though he can only imagine what it was like. Was his heart always feeling so full? Were his eyes so desperately trained to Hyunjin’s every detail?

He traces them, willing to memorize him forever, to not forget him ever again.

“Did we use to do sleepovers often?” Jeongin asks, curious.

Hyunjin nods as he picks up more food with his chopsticks. Maybe Jeongin should start eating too before he becomes a staring creep.

“As kids it was almost every weekend. Then growing up it became a bit difficult, especially when I got into uni. That was why I was so happy when we managed to share a dorm room.”

The vacant bed on the left side of Jeongin’s room has always felt a bit out of place. It was comfortable if his friends ever came over to visit or crashed out after a party or an intense studying session during exams season, but seeing it empty at night, when no one was around, felt weird.

Now he knows why.

“The back of your hair is always all over the place when you wake up,” Hyunjin says, speaking like he knows Jeongin inside out. “And you still sleep in those middle school shorts, it’s incredible how you stick to the same habits. I’ve always admired that of you.”

Jeongin can feel the blush growing on his cheeks as he gets shy.

“Admire?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin nods enthusiastically. “You are so stable while I’m more…” He moves his hands in the air as if he’s unrolling a knotted ball of yarn. “A mess.”

A voice in Jeongin’s head tells him that Hyunjin’s the prettiest mess he’s ever seen. He keeps it to himself though.

“We completed each other,” he says instead, realizing much later that it’s still heavy words.

Hyunjin however seems to appreciate them, his eyes glistening as he smiles. “Yeah, we really did.”

For the rest of the evening and night, Jeongin hears stories of their past, the usual empty bed in his room now pushed to connect with his own so they can talk more comfortably as they wait for sleep to take over them.

In reality, Jeongin is afraid of falling asleep, of becoming unconscious of his past once again, of forgetting the truth about his existence. He holds to the last grasp of reality he can and to the last words his ears can catch, and eventually falls into a deep unwelcome slumber.

He wakes up hours later when the sun peaks through the blinds. He pushes through the fog of sleep and sits up, hurriedly looking to his side and tapping the covers in the dim lighted room, cursing himself for sleeping through the night.

Relief washes over him when he identifies Hyunjin’s body tangled in the sheets and his soft breathing. He’s sleeping so peacefully it would be a shame to wake him up, so Jeongin gently slides down on the mattress and brings the covers up to his shoulders.

The feeling of belonging is scary, too intense, but Jeongin would rather feel full to the brim every day than the odd emptiness he felt up until yesterday morning.

Just as he’s looking at Hyunjin, his eyelids slowly crack open, and his voice is deep, raspy. “Hey,” he hums as he stretches his arms, a soft grunt falling off his lips. “Still good or are you trying to figure out why there’s a stranger in your room?”

Jeongin doesn’t know where he finds the energy to joke so early in the morning.

The light slap he gives to Hyunjin’s shoulder is almost instinctive, as if he’s done it a thousand times already. “Get your ass up,” he says, heat flaming his cheeks.

Hyunjin laughs, the sound reaching Jeongin’s ears like a beautiful symphony. “You remained a morning person, got it.”

Jeongin wants to bury his face in the pillows.

🖊️ 

They skip breakfast to move Hyunjin’s stuff over to Jeongin’s room. Hyunjin’s roommate was slightly confused about the change, but Jeongin can’t risk getting Hyunjin out of his sight or memories.

He is — feels — so important.

Hyunjin doesn’t have many belongings, most of them were gone the day he woke up and he was erased from every main characters’ memories. Almost everything from his past faded — objects related to Jeongin or the new friends they made in university.

In the past year Hyunjin has dwelled in drawing and painting, something that helped him a lot in turning off his brain and not bumping into anyone. He tells Jeongin that it has turned into a pleasant hobby now, that it’s his creative outlet and safe place, and Jeongin accepts it, even though he wonders how many days and nights Hyunjin must’ve spent in front of his canvas to bring to life so many paintings.

They hang them on the walls, beautiful decorations on the side of the room that Jeongin never personalized in case a new roommate was ever assigned to him.

“Are you ready to go?”

Hyunjin fixes his hair a little in the mirror at the entrance, unaware of how perfectly crafted he looks. “Yes, I think. I’m kind of nervous.”

Jeongin is too. He’s not sure what trying to push Hyunjin back into the story could do to their frail universe. They’re just alphabet characters on paper, what if Jeongin’s action will push their writers’ fingers towards the backspace?

He puts on a smile for Hyunjin, he feels like he owes him one — for forgetting him, for giving him back a sliver of hope without the certainty that his simple plan will work.

“It’ll go well.”

🖊️

The library is packed, full of students busy getting ready for their exams. 

Do results matter? Does any of this matter?

Jeongin waltzes his way through the corridors of the library to reach the table that his friend group usually occupies, Hyunjin following right behind him. He easily spots the heads of the ones who are not afraid of bleach getting too close to their faces and nods to himself.

He’s doing this.

They’re doing this.

“Goodmorning,” he says nonchalantly, dropping his bag on one of the two empty seats left. Six heads rise from their notes, whether digital or manually written, to look at him.

Jeongin has to keep the facade. With Hyunjin they decided that it was too risky to just drop the fictional story bomb on them immediately. If they’re all aware, where will the story go?

Jeongin hopes not in the bin of a laptop.

“This is my new roommate Hyunjin.”

He tugs at Hyunjin’s wrist, making him step forward, and he has maybe underestimated how tense Hyunjin might’ve been at the thought of interacting with all of them again. He feels stiff, his smile too.

“Hi,” Hyunjin greets them shyly, raising a hand and immediately regretting it. He rubs it against the side of his jeans after putting it down, as if to rub away the gesture.

Felix is the first to break the silence as expected, a friendly sunny smile and a glint in his eyes. “It was about time Ayeni got a roommate, you can’t be that lucky to live alone every year of your university career!” He presses his arms on the desk to lift himself a little on his seat, tucking a leg underneath him. “I’m Felix,” he adds right after, introducing himself by offering a hand to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin gives Jeongin a look, one that’s uncertain if the next action will unlock a chain reaction like it did with Jeongin, and then leans forward to shake Felix’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says. “All of you.”

Jeongin watches attentively at Felix but nothing happens, there’s not even a slight shift in his expression, just pure genuine joy in meeting someone new.

The ice breaks after the first introduction. The rest of the group introduces itself to Hyunjin and then moves to questions, their notes long forgotten for what ends up being half an hour of chatting.

Hyunjin’s smile grows from timid to more carefree as he talks to everyone with ease. It must be nice to finally reconnect with the friends he once lost, the same spark Jeongin already witnessed the day prior is showing in his gaze and voice again.

They stop talking only when someone shushes them secretly, the sound echoing in the library and the perpetrator anonymous.

Jeongin gets his books and notes out of his bag to create a good surface and tops it with his soft pencil case. He hasn’t slept much the previous night due to the fear of forgetting Hyunjin, waiting until the last flicker of energy in his body shut down, so he could use a nap. It should be easier to rest now that he knows he won’t forget the man sitting by his side.

Hyunjin watches him curiously as Jeongin folds his arms over his makeshift hard pillow and lays down his head on them. Something about this too feels like a deja-vu, looking up at Hyunjin, their eyes meeting in a knowing look — shared secrets.

Hyunjin leans closer, so only Jeongin will pay attention to his whispering. “You should study.”

“Grades are all fake anyways,” Jeongin reasons, scrunching his nose as Hyunjin reaches with the tip of his pen to tap it.

“Don’t you want a good fake future?” Hyunjin teases. “A nice fake graduation day, confetti and all.”

Warmth fills Jeongin slowly, melting him from the inside. Maybe that’s why he reaches for Hyunjin’s hand on top of his thigh under the table and intertwines their fingers together. Hyunjin’s eyes widen a little but his hand is quick in holding Jeongin’s own back.

“You feel real to me.”

Hyunjin’s lips curve in a smile. “You too.”

Jeongin misses a whole morning of studying and wakes up with his neck and hand sore, but he’s definitely more relaxed than earlier and food is waiting for him at the canteen. Wonderful.

When he opens his eyes, Hyunjin is busy muffling his laugh with a hand while Seungmin is laughing too and Changbin is pouting, so it’s obvious that something mischievous has just happened.

No matter what, no matter the hours that have passed or the need to quiet down his reaction to a joke, Hyunjin is still holding Jeongin’s hand under the table, his thumb resting on top of Jeongin’s rosary ring, feeling the design of it. It’s nice, this, even though Jeongin never shares these kinds of touches.

He seeked this.

Something tells him that in the past it has already happened several times.

“Okay okay,” Chan shushes them gently. “We should go get lunch.”

A scandalized gasp comes out of Changbin. “I thought you were about to defend me!” He complains, pout and all. 

To that, Chan bursts into a chuckle. He pats Changbin’s head to console him and gives him a quick hug in apology to repent himself, laughing only harder when Changbin’s complaints raise in volume.

Minho is out of Jeongin’s field of vision but his laugh reaches Jeongin’s ears too, making him feel relieved. They haven’t been together like this without worries for quite a while.

Is this a filler chapter? Will tragedy strike again?

Hyunjin squeezes his hand gently before slipping away from Jeongin’s hold so he can start packing his things. The gesture is enough for Jeongin to decide to say goodbye to his hard pillow. 

Many coo when he starts stretching, Jisung even dares to poke him on the hip where his shirt lifts making him squirm, but the attention for once doesn’t feel overwhelming — he will cherish these kinds of moments differently from now on.

“Ya.” He still complains out loud, because it’s fun, because it makes Jisung laugh and send him a flying kiss. “Keep your hands off.”

“Ohh, but why!” Jisung strikes back, trying to reach for Jeongin who playfully slaps his hands away. “Hyunjin—a, do you know Jeonginnie kissed me once?”

Jeongin fakes a disgusted expression and denies the fact even though it did happen. It’s a fun recurring gag they'll probably never get tired of as everyone else joins the drama in a second.

“Yeah, in your wishes maybe,” Minho teases, a smug smirk on his face.

“He really did!”

“Hyung, don’t you ever fall for his lies,” Jeongin sighs dramatically, addressing Hyunjin. In the background, Jisung protests again, a weak “Lies?” reaching his ears.

Hyunjin laughs a bit timidly and nods. “Alright, noted.”

In between a shush coming from other tables and a whispered bickering, they all pack their bags and filter out of the library. 

Following behind everyone, Jeongin’s eyes flee to the aisle where the book is stored. Hyunjin told him that it is impossible to get it out of the library, it will always eventually disappear and reappear there. Similarly, writing on it it’s useless, as the ink fades out quickly rendering the story set in stone and unmodifiable.

But it’s okay, they’ll find a way regardless.

🖊️

The door clicks behind Jeongin’s back. He leans against it, leaving space at the entrance for Hyunjin to remove his shoes.

He looks at him under the artificial automatic light, pretty and absent stare.

“So, how was it?” He asks, fingers nervously playing with each other.

Hyunjin doesn’t answer him immediately, taking off his shoes at the entrance and heading to his bed still connected to Jeongin’s.

Jeongin has only a visual of his back, so understanding him is quite difficult. Until Hyunjin sits down on the bed and sighs. The sound is both one of relief and something more deep. He seems… sad.

“Hyung?”

Jeongin takes small and careful steps until he finds himself in front of Hyunjin. When the other man doesn’t look up, Jeongin can’t do much but kneel to try to see what expression he’s hiding.

The wooden floor feels cold against his naked knees, but not as much as seeing Hyunjin’s teary eyes does. An ice cold shower.

It contrasts with Hyunjin’s first tear when he wipes it away with his thumb, warm just like his skin. Jeongin isn’t sure why he’s touching Hyunjin this way, with an intimacy and care he strangely doesn’t feel self conscious of. It must be a reflex from the past that has been erased, just like many of the other touches he instinctively indulged in the past two days.

Hyunjin’s eyes look up, gazing at Jeongin through his lashes. “Ah— I’m sorry,” he says as he looks away, escaping Jeongin’s touch. “This is stupid.”

Jeongin feels the heat moving to his cheeks as he sees his hand stuck mid air. He lowers it down quickly, patting the wet finger on his shorts before getting back up. Maybe sitting on the bed would be more normal.

“What is stupid?” He asks, taking a place next to Hyunjin on the bed.

When their gazes meet again, Hyunjin blinks his tears away, droplets ricocheting down his cheeks. “I’m so scared of going to sleep.”

The confession pierces through Jeongin’s chest, reaching that part of his being that shared the same feelings the previous night.

“I didn’t have any hopes about this earlier but… I don’t think I can let go now that I spent the day with all of you,” Hyunjin looks away again as he lets out the rest of his worries. “What if tomorrow is a new chapter and it all resets? Minho hyung still laughs the same and Changbinnie hyung does that clicking thing with his pen that used to—”

Jeongin didn’t think his simple gesture of resting his hand on top of Hyunjin’s own for comfort would’ve made him halt in his speech and look his way again. But their eyes lock and he’s suddenly realizing that he wants to speak too, that’s he’s not unsure and lacking confidence on what to say in this delicate moment. In such a fleeting world, he and Hyunjin need to be solid realities to each other.

“If that ever happens, come find me. Show me the book and tell me everything once more.”

“You don’t know how many times—”

“But this time is different, right?” Jeongin interrupts him. “You said it yourself.”

There’s a poignant pause in which Jeongin can spot in Hyunjin’s look the moment he regains the same sparkle he had in the morning and the previous evening — hope. He nods to Jeongin’s words and twists his hand to hold Jeongin’s own.

“It is. I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Let’s hold onto that, then.”

They get ready for sleeping, and after showers, putting on pajamas and Hyunjin stealing some steps from Jeongin’s nightly skincare routine, Hyunjin’s bed never gets pushed back to the other side of the room.

Jeongin puts on a movie on his laptop, resting in between them on the bed, to distract Hyunjin and himself from thinking. It’s a movie about five disastrous dates, and Jeongin wonders if such absurd plot does exist outside their universe or if it is made up.

They resist their tired bodies and eyelids until the end, when the ending credits start rolling on the black screen and the room plunges into darkness.

Surprisingly, Hyunjin’s the one to shut down the laptop. He quickly puts it on the carpet on the floor and turns on his side again, facing Jeongin.

“Imagine going on a date and the guy gets arrested,” he chuckles.

Jeongin can barely make out his facial features in the dark but he feels like he can perfectly picture them in his head nevertheless.

“Or they catch on fire.”

Hyunjin laughs more and scoots closer. Jeongin feels something patting on the bed until Hyunjin’s fingers stop on his hand. It’s not awkward to lock their hands together or when Hyunjin raises them so close to their faces that the tip of his nose brushes against the back of Jeongin’s hand.

It’s heartwarming, secure, loving.

“I can go through this pain and fear a thousand times if you’ll always remember me,” he whispers.

Somehow, Jeongin’s chest feels full enough to ease his heart and make him fall asleep. Sure that Hyunjin will reach out for him if he’ll ever wake up without him by his side.

🖊️

Jeongin never realized his life was divided into chapters, he never felt a stark difference or evident missing parts in his existence until now. He wakes up feeling a bit stiff, his hand has fallen asleep during the night and needles are dancing on the parts of his skin that aren’t in contact with Hyunjin’s own hand.

He notices the pass of time only thanks to the calendar on the wall, where several days are signed with a black X up until the one they’re supposed to have the final exam of the semester.

Hyunjin stirs in his sleep and tugs, taking all of Jeongin’s attention back to him and weakly dragging him closer. He holds Jeongin’s hand to his chest like a precious belonging and Jeongin doesn’t care anymore if all of his exams have passed while he was unconscious, just a foggy memory of days spent at the library studying and late night meals with his friends, because he feels that summersault in his chest again while looking at Hyunjin this close.

It’s a new chapter and they're starting it together.

“Hyung,” Jeongin tries to shake him gently to no avail. “Hyung, please.”

Like a ray of light finding its way through the fog, Jeongin gets a clear flash of memories for the first time ever. Years of waking Hyunjin up before going to school, dragging him down the stairs and to the bus stop with a snack stuck between his lips still puffy from sleep and many bus rides sitting next to each other while the sun was still rising.

“Hyunjin—a,” he repeats like he has done many times in the past. “Dr. Cowell will visit you next.”

It was a character from a horror story that Hyunjin once told him convinced it would’ve creeped Jeongin out. The poor kid instead only spooked himself with it.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hyunjin giggles with a raspy voice, digging his face in the pillow. 

Jeongin takes it to the next level, his fingers dancing up Hyunjin’s shoulder. “He will pull your teeth one by one,” he whispers, tapping on his nape.

To that, Hyunjin shudders and turns to look at Jeongin with a not so threatening glare. His short bangs are all over the place and his cheeks adorned by lines left from his deep sleep. 

“I can’t believe you’re still using that—” Hyunjin stops as his eyes widen. He sits up quickly, his hand leaving Jeongin’s only to hold him by the shoulders and lifting him into a seating position. “You remember ‘Dr. Cowell and The Carrots?’”

“Well, if you say it like that it sounds even more ridiculous,” Jeongin answers back instinctively. 

It hits him only later where Hyunjin’s shock is coming from.

“I do.”

“You do,” Hyunjin repeats, his fingers twitching over the fabric of Jeongin’s t-shirt.

Jeongin glances at the calendar on the wall and then back at Hyunjin. “I’m sure this is a new chapter too.”

The way Hyunjin’s head whips to look behind himself and then he scrambles down the bed to reach the calendar would make Jeongin laugh on any other occasion, but he can’t laugh as he hears Hyunjin’s relieved sigh. He oddly feels like crying instead, tears burning at the rim of his lashes.

He quickly dries them away before Hyunjin turns around and lets only the most positive visual expression of his joy peak through, smiling at Hyunjin when their gazes meet.

“Fuck, Jeongin—a.” Hyunjin quickly jumps back on the bed. He grabs Jeongin’s hands in his and shakes them a little.

Jeongin’s never been happier to see someone else’s smile. It’s a feeling he can’t understand fully nor control.

“I’m back. For real.”

Before Jeongin can say anything, he gets tugged into a hug. Hyunjin’s arms wrap around him in a tight and warm embrace that surprises him as much as it shouldn’t. 

“It’ll always be you, Jeonginnie. Only you.” Hyunjin’s breath caresses the hair by his ears as he whispers softly.

The sentence doesn’t connect to anything, nor does it make sense to Jeongin’s overloaded mind. Nonetheless it moves him and spreads confusing feelings in his chest.

Feeling compressed, Jeongin gently pushes Hyunjin so he can free himself from the hug.

“We should go check if the new last chapter is in the book after our exam.”

Hyunjin blinks at him, a bit lost.

“The chapter is starting with exams?” He groans, trashing his legs a bit in complaint. Jeongin can only chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

He throws a pillow at Hyunjin gently. “You skipped most of them, be grateful.”

Getting ready to face his exams has never been a less stressful task to Jeongin than today. He might not have clear memories of the past days, but Jeongin knows that he has studied and— anyways— it doesn’t really matter to him anymore.

Or actually it never has.

Engineering has always felt like an annoying chore, like washing the dishes right after a nice meal when you’d rather lie down and rest. 

Was Jeongin written to not align with his academic path or would he have always sacrificed his dreams just to make his parents proud? The past few days seem to have proven that he has a will of his own and also not, as he doesn’t feel like he has truly lived them.

“What happens during the skips?”

Maybe it’s a too complicated question to ask as they’re heading to their class surrounded by anxious students walking around with their notes in their hands. Hyunjin almost lets one bump into him before taking a step to the side and letting her pass between him and Jeongin.

“Normal life,” Hyunjin answers unexpectedly easily, closing again the gap between him and Jeongin. “I’ve lived every day of this year with full consciousness just like everybody else…”

Jeongin feels the little pause and waits in silence for Hyunjin’s ‘but.’

“But I think this time in between events is a pleasure that only those who are not part of the main story can really enjoy.”

“So everyone else just… lives?”

Hyunjin nods to Jeongin’s question, humming along. “Yes.”

“So it's still a universe on its own,” Jeongin realizes. He looks around at the buildings and down at the grass they’re walking on. Someone trims this every week whether they’re just a character in a story or not. “Like the multiverse.”

“Like in The Avengers?”

Jeongin almost trips on his own feet. “You didn’t just reference The Avengers to me,” he says, incredulous.

Hyunjin chuckles a little and looks away. “It’s your fault, you brought me to the cinema for each one of the movies.” His hand pushes Jeongin to the side a little, as if to reprimand him for his past actions.

“Well, some of them are really good,” Jeongin defends himself.

In the distance, the figures of their friends become clearer.

Minho is busy showing something to Felix from his phone, probably a cat picture, while Seungmin is quizzing Changbin with a book open in his hands — a high risk of ragebait incoming. More on the side stand Chan and Jisung, who are sharing earphones and are busy reading something off one of their phones.

Felix is the first to notice them, acknowledging Jeongin with a look and a smirk. Danger. Jeongin will aim at saying hi first to his other hyungs instead.

Everyone is buzzing from electricity for the last exam before the summer break, so thankfully neither Jeongin’s nor Hyunjin’s excess of happiness is too noticeable. He heads to Chan for safety, but Felix still waltzes towards them.

“Yeni,” he calls him in his typical playing around tone as he wraps his arms around him from the back. His hair tickles Jeongin on the neck, burned bleached ends poking his skin lightly. “Are you two free after exams?”

Jeongin glances at Seungmin who barely looks at them, a quick glance before throwing another question at Changbin with a mischievous smirk.

“Not really,” he answers.

Hyunjin lets out a short hum as he nods his head along. “We have something to do.”

“Something more important than burgers, fries and League?” Felix asks, like the temptor that he is. He tickles Jeongin on the sides as he makes his proposal.

Jeongin squirms at the touch, breaking the hug. “Yes,” he chuckles. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Hyunjinnie doesn’t play League,” Chan provides quickly to Felix before going back to the anime episode he and Jisung are watching on his phone screen.

“It’s never too late to learn,” Felix tries again, this time snuggling on Chan’s side like a cat looking for warmth. “Right?” He blinks his doe eyes at Hyunjin, and Jeongin feels guilty as he shakes his head no again.

“Tomorrow,” he promises. “Okay?”

Felix’s lips jut in a pout for his final move of persuasion, but thankfully they get saved by their professors walking through the sea of students waiting outside of the building.

Jeongin has never given a good look at Mr. Styles before today. As he watches him hurriedly fix his curly hair and white shirt, he tries to imagine him on a stage but fails to really picture him  — he’s in a boyband. What an absurd image.

“Okay nerds, go take your final exam,” Minho stops Changbin before he can get Seungmin in a headlock, messing up his wavy hair. He then nods towards both Jeongin and Hyunjin. “You too.”

There’s still ten minutes left before the start, but everyone is starting to enter the building so they might as well do the same and get over with it. Jeongin gives one final look at his friends before entering, glances away as Chan pecks Minho’s lips, and braces for an exam he’s apparently ready for.

Him and Hyunjin pick the first seats they find that are close to each other and wait patiently for the test to start. Everyone around them is revising topics with each other or complaining about their lack of sleep, something that Jeongin has done the past semesters too. Today, though, his mind is somewhere far away, in between the aisles of the campus’ library.

The test is ridiculously easy for him to understand and finish, it’s kind of annoying even. What has Jeongin even studied for all these years? He remembers Hyunjin’s joke about a good fake graduation as he crosses his answers and finishes half an hour earlier. How much can it be considered fake?

He’s the second to walk down to Professor Tomlinson’s desk to hand him his answer sheet, followed right after by Hyunjin. Jeongin spotted him several times looking out of the window and tapping the eraser of his pencil on the desk with a bored expression and completely uninterested in the exam.

Hyunjin’s lack of energy however is just a facade as he can’t hold his excitement once they’re out of the classroom. His fingers wrap around Jeongin’s wrist over his bracelet and shake his arm gently. “Let’s go.”

His vitality is contagious, spreading through Jeongin and curling around the edges of his own curiosity. He lets Hyunjin drag him down the campus park and inside the library, feeling light as air.

🖊️

Minho’s heart felt like it could’ve exploded in his chest staring back at Chan, his profile accentuated by the moonlight casting lights and shadows over it. It was the kind of beauty that one would witness only once in a lifetime.

He scooted closer and traced the bridge of Chan’s nose down to the tip, making the man scrunch it and breathe out a giggle. He had missed hearing such a carefree sound coming out of him. When he had met Chan he would barely smile or laugh, and it had quickly become a dagger digging into the space where his heart once laid before getting stolen by the man.

But things were so different now. They were different now.

“Chan—a,” Minho called him. Look at me. I’m down here. Forget about the stars, forget about everything else.

“God, Minho hyung has such a romantic internal monologue, I never get used to it,” Hyunjin says softly in Jeongin’s ear, his finger stopping on the corner of the page ready to flip it.

They're sitting on the carpet floor of the library, backs against the shelves and their sides glued together for a better shared reading experience.

Jeongin scrunches his nose in distaste. “Skip a page or two, I don’t want to read about them kissing.”

Hyunjin chuckles at his words. “Alright, captain,” he chuckles, lifting the corners of two pages at once. “No friends kissing.”

“I’m so glad you’re not creeps.”

Jeongin’s heart almost jumps to his throat at the sound of Seungmin’s voice. His eyes lift from the book to the shelves, where, right in the space the story left, Seungmin is peeking at them.

“What the fuck,” Hyunjin startles loudly, way more than Jeongin’s suffocated gasp.

A giggle echoes from behind the books and Jeongin barely has time to comprehend what is happening or to say anything to Hyunjin, as both Felix and Seungmin round the shelves and reach them. They both have that typical area of mischief that surrounds them, but amplified.

They… know?

There’s no other way for them to understand what they’re reading if they haven’t read the book themselves.

“Yeah yeah, don’t piss your pants,” Seungmin waves a hand at Jeongin and Hyunjin as he plops on the floor in front of them. Felix sits right next to him, quiet but so loud in the way he’s dripping energy from every pore. “We read it too.”

“You…” Hyunjin’s voice comes out faintly.

“Read it, yes,” Felix provides, “we stumbled on it a couple of weeks ago.”

Jeongin’s brain stops short circuiting. “Weeks?” He asks, louder than he intended.

Both of his friends nod at his question, with an ease that only someone who has had weeks to process everything can.

With a swift move, Felix leans over and slips the book from Hyunjin’s hands, turning it in his owns and flipping a few pages back. He hums as his eyes scan the title of the last chapter. If Jeongin remembers correctly it was something along the lines of the theme song of the story, as it was quoted again at the start of it.

Seungmin peeks at it too. “I can’t believe I can’t poke fun at Minho hyung for having a theme song,” he says, shaking his head. His words make Felix snort.

“How did you find out?” Jeongin asks. He feels on edge. Him and Hyunjin were so worried about letting anyone know about the book and the reality behind their existence, that they had never considered that anyone could’ve already found the book and understood.

“Seungminnie wanted to study the day after the party, as always,” Felix starts. By his side Seungmin shrugs his shoulders — Can’t a man be diligent anymore? “So we came here and I stumbled into this book while looking for something else. At the first line, it was like a switch was flipped.”

“A switch?”

Felix nods at the question coming from Hyunjin. “I was aware, of how many days I barely remembered, of how differently everyone around us lives their lives.” 

“We’re always doing something else instead of studying,” Seungmin adds as an example. Felix rolls his eyes fondly at him and sighs softly, seemingly enamored even outside of the pages of the book.

Jeongin’s first reaction after assimilating Felix and Seungmin's story, is to look at Hyunjin. He wants to know how he feels. He hopes to see on his face a relief mirroring the one Jeongin feels in his own chest. It was a heavy reality to carry even if just for a couple of days, it must’ve been way heavier on Hyunjin’s shoulders.

Does he feel less lonely? Are they filling in the gap that Jeongin can’t?

“Do you remember…” Hyunjin starts, his voice however fading at the end. “I was in the story from the start but it was rewritten,” he says instead of continuing the previous question, as if afraid to hear a direct answer to it.

Jeongin would like to know what to do to alleviate his pain, but he can only stay next to Hyunjin’s side and hear his sigh. Powerless.

Felix’s eyes widen a little as his lips part in a surprised expression. “Ah! That’s why you seemed so familiar!” He slaps Seungmin in the arm, making him yelp. “Tell them how many times I told you that day! Seungminnie!”

Seungmin has to swat Felix’s hands away a couple of times. Not a singular gesture coming from him however expresses annoyance, but more a sense of complicity.

“Yes, yes, now stop.” He laughs, curling a bit on himself. “He did seem familiar.” 

Next to him, Jeongin can feel Hyunjin’s tensed body relax with a deep breath. It eases Jeongin’s heart a little, to see the confidence that faded slowly growing back again.

With determination, Felix leans forward to grab Hyunjin’s hands, shaking him more into reality.

“We need to catch up then, you have to tell us everything that’s missing.”

His energy is contagious just as his smile, making Hyunjin’s lips curve upward. “Yes, of course.”

“I’m sorry we forgot,” Seungmin’s voice is less energetic, more sad. Jeongin hasn’t heard him speak like this since the spring break mess.

Hyunjin offers him a smile, one that’s less bright than before and more bittersweet. “It’s okay, it was nobody’s fault.”

It’s the first time Hyunjin doesn’t blame himself following the sentence with a ‘maybe’, always unsure over the reason behind the changes in the original story. It’s one of those questions they can’t get an answer for. It’s bigger than them, and it’s okay to move forward, to focus instead on fixing it all.

To Jeongin, it seems like this is a good second step. They were too afraid to involve anyone themselves, scared of causing another big change.

“Exactly,” Felix says, shaking Hyunjin’s hands a bit more. “This is so absurd there’s nothing we can do but get closer again, right?” He shines just like the sun.

“Yes, right,” Hyunjin nods.

The blonde scoots even closer, tapping Seungmin’s knee with one hand to order him silently to do the same. “Now tell us everything.”