Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Everyone goes through that point in life when you think things couldn’t get worse.

Except they can. They definitely can, because the universe has an unique sense of humour —almost sadistic, if one may say. And the universe definitely enjoys making people miserable, just when they thought things were finally turning for the better.

People being Han Jisung.

Because if he thought things would stop at missing his assignment’s due date and his laptop breaking just when he was preparing some songs to perform with his crew, he was wrong. Oh, how very wrong he was.

And plainly naive.

Jisung had to curse out every existent being that was making his life hell on earth.

Since he is currently sitting in the dean’s office, getting blamed for something he didn’t do. The dean has been yelling at him for the past hour, yelling threats and rubbing his hands all over his face as he was thinking of a punishment good enough for Jisung.

“Sexual intercourse on college grounds? That's a new low, even for you Jisung.” 

Even for me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Jisung feels slightly offended, scoffing as he glares at the dean behind the desk.

Nevermind that, Jisung has a reputation to uphold.

“But I didn’t do it. You have to believe me.”

The dean stops rubbing at his temples, letting his gaze fall on Jisung with a disbelieving look.

“Believe you?” He laughs derisively in his face and Jisung can only roll his eyes as he crosses his arms. “Forgive me Jisung, but you’re not exactly the most innocent student.”

Jisung raises his eyebrows questioningly. Rude. It’s okay, it’s fine, he can cope.

“I mean, were those chickens running around aimlessly in the hallway, just last month, not your work?”

Strike one.

“Or the time you slid down the college stairs with a mattress that only God knows where you got from?”

Strike two.

“Don’t even remind me of last year’s exams when a suspiciously Han Jisung look alike randomly decided to take exams in your name out of the goodness of their heart. Was that not your handy work?”

Strike three.

Technically, he didn’t do any of those. At least not by himself. Except for the mattress thing. He was still high as a kite from the night before and the adrenaline pumping up in his veins made him feel courageous.

“Dean, that wasn’t me.”

“I don’t want to hear any of that right now. I’m so disappointed in you.” The dean cuts him off and Jisung goes silent.

A guy surfs with a mattress down the stairs, once, and now he’s suddenly public enemy number one. It’s not fair that he’s getting blamed for things he didn’t do.

Not when Chan was the smart ass behind all of this, telling Jisung he’ll just make his life easier and he can focus on his football career more. He’d always encourage Jisung that he shouldn’t have to stress about grades so much when they won’t even matter in the future. So, he took care of everything. 

The same Chan who lured Jisung in with his adorably innocent looking face, using his silver tongue in his favour to trap Jisung and keep him locked in his safe forever. The same Chan that happens to be on the college football team along with Jisung. And together with Changbin they formed their personal musical crew.

Put the success of their SoundCloud rapping on the same plate as the hot alpha males on the football team and you get three annoyingly excruciating popular guys.

Sure, Jisung doesn’t mind the attention he’s getting. It does things to fill his ego, ‘cause guy has over ten thousand followers no less. And his DMs are always filled with horny people, be it from college or just randoms on the internet, thirsting over him whenever he posts thirst traps.

Here’s the catch, though.

Jisung doesn’t sleep around.

In fact, his body count hasn’t passed two people. One, being his first serious relationship where the guy was a total asshole and broke up with him, and two, being his equally obnoxious jerk best friend who Jisung decided that sleeping with to get back at him would be a good idea.

Silly Jisung.

Rumours have spread across the campus like wildfire. And he hasn’t had peace ever since.

Funny thing is, the tactic completely backfired on the guy who spread them, only for Jisung to get more positive attention.

What can he say? He had it coming.

“Can you believe the amount of emails I have gotten since morning? I’ll tell you anyway, wayyy too many. Not pleasant.” He hears the dean groan as he aggressively swirls his coffee with a spoon, drinking aggressively.

Jisung stares at him, unbeknownst of what he should do with that information.

“So what, am I expelled or something?”

It just seems that Jisung’s genuine question is the funniest thing the dean has heard all day, because he asks, “Expelled?”

Jisung shrugs.

“No, you won’t get expelled.”

Jisung feels a sigh of relief escape him, “Really?” 

But just as quick as his body relaxed, his demeanor was brought back to disappointment.

“You will get detention.”

Detention? Huh, that could’ve been worse.

For something he didn’t do. Like what, are the college cameras not working anymore?

“For a month. Oh and— on top of that, community service, until the end of semester. Wait no, end of the year. Yeah, that should be good.” The dean laughs at him maniacally, seemingly losing his mind.

Understandable. How is someone supposed to feel when something as offensive as this happens on their very college grounds? But then again, Jisung didn’t do it. So why is he getting blamed?

“Wha— community service? Are you serious?” Jisung jumps in his chair with a groan, his eyebrows tugged together as he leans in with offense. “I’d rather get expelled.”

He only receives back a satirical laugh as the dean spins in his chair.

“Trust me, I’d love to have you expelled. But your parents have paid a lot of money to support this college, and what kind of person would I be to throw out their one and only precious son?”

Jisung lets his jaw fall, his eyes sharpening with a disbelieving glare. 

“This is going to be hell.” He mutters under his breath.

“Oh, I hope so.”

At six pm Jisung is stomping irritated towards the library, his backpack barely holding on his shoulder, as he curses out his dean and whoever pinpointed the blame on him just so he’ll end up trapped in this sadistic nightmare. Since when did it become so hard for people to own up to their actions?

Sure, Jisung had his share of wrongdoings, but guilt would eat away at his delicate heart that he wouldn’t be able to lie about it. He’s a bad liar, too honest for his own good. Chan always told him that’s going to be his downfall one day.

And so far, Chan always knows best. He tells Jisung that The blueberry cheesecake in the cafeteria is so much better than the strawberry one, or If you want to cheat at this test, the bottom right seat is the best, and other stuff that somehow always turned out to be right. Chan has never been wrong one time in his life. 

Jisung thinks this motherfucker has a sixth sense he’s never told anyone about.

Plus, he’s not complaining like, at all. Ever since he met Chan he’s been under his protective wing as the eldest took it upon himself to take care of Jisung. Someone would look the wrong way at Jisung? They’d have problems the following day. Someone would yell at Jisung? They’d have to deal with Chan next. And the cycle would repeat. 

Jisung never has to worry about anything, because Chan doesn’t allow him to. He knows he doesn’t deserve him. Chan was there when Jisung had his first heartbreak, muttering curses and threats about all the ways he’d break his ex’s hands while comforting Jisung in his arms, he was also there when his asshole best friend took Jisung for granted and man, did that look bad.

Unfortunately for Jisung, Chan can’t solve all his problems. Even he couldn’t get his friend out of this one. Not that Jisung would’ve wanted Chan to spend his detention hours in his place as he tried to take the blame, he would’ve been a terribly bad friend.

With that, he sighs as he belatedly accepts his fate and sits down at the designated detention desk he’s going to spend his next hours at.

What a waste of time.

Jisung figures he’ll do some homework in the meantime while he waits for his supervisor to show up. He just knows he’s going to be bored out of his mind and knowing his luck, he’ll probably have his most detested teacher supervise him. Who knows if they’ll miss the chance to tell Jisung how bad he’s doing in their class?

It was then that he saw an approaching figure, a guy wearing a black tank top —that did more than enough to leave little for imagination— adorned by a black beanie that’s trapping beneath silver strands of hair. He sits at his table, and Jisung can’t help but notice the pair of glasses that rest over his beanie.

Jisung looks around confused wondering if he must’ve made a mistake, but the guy seems pretty confident in his seat. He takes out his phone and not once does he spare Jisung a glance, as if he’s not even there.

Jisung scowls. “Can I help you?”

He sees the way the stranger’s face contorts in realization as if he just noticed Jisung’s presence for the first time, his eyebrows raising and his lips stretching into a shit eating grin before he speaks, “Hi yes, are you Han Jisung?”

In that exact moment Jisung thinks he’s died and gone to heaven, because he’s never seen a more beautiful face than the one sitting across him. Angelic features harmonizing with one another, a sharp structure of his face with sharp cat like eyes before they end with a rosy pout that stretches beautifully when he speaks.

He feels like there’s something hammering in his chest when their gazes lock.

Despite that, it’s hard for Jisung not to scoff when he hears the slightly sarcastic tone in his voice, already deciding he doesn’t like this guy’s attitude.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

The guy stares at him wordlessly before returning his attention to his phone, “Great.”

Jisung tilts his head, feeling more confused than ever. This guy is fucking weird.

“Are you in detention as well?” He tries to make conversation as any normal person would do, because this is getting really awkward.

Then, he laughs.

He laughs in Jisung’s face as if he’s the best comedian he’s come across. And frankly, Jisung is beginning to get pissed with everyone laughing at him, taking his words as a joke.

“I must’ve missed something. Did I say something wrong?” His tone is offended.

The guy keeps smiling at him, somehow a hint of amusement greeting him. Jisung feels his face flush, feeling heat burn under his skin, and he’s not sure if it’s because the guy is hot as hell or because his irritation keeps growing every time he opens his mouth. Either way, Jisung is not pleased.

“You’re much cuter than I expected.”

Jisung feels his heart drop in his stomach, a jolt passing through his body with shock at the statement. “What?”

The guy dares tilt his head to the side innocently. “You’re hot, wanna fuck?”

Jisung feels his blood drain from his face as he stutters, “E-excuse me?”

The guy only shrugs, that dumb smile still present on his face.

“Who the fuck are you? Besides, you’re in a library for fuck’s sake.”

“So?”

“So? You can’t just ask random people if they wanna fuck.”

“Works all the time.”

Jisung scoffs as he’s unable to believe this guy. “You’re sick in the head.”

“Feisty too.”

Jisung stares at him incredulously. “I’m going to report you.”

“For what? Supervising you?”

That’s when Jisung feels his jaw hit the floor, his eyes almost bulging out of his sockets as everything in his body freezes.

“You’re my supervisor?”

That grin widens the more miserable Jisung becomes. This guy is a fucking sadist.

“Lee Minho, your supervisor, nice to meet you.” He stretches out his hand as if he did nothing wrong.

Jisung stares at him in disbelief, vexation bubbling up in his throat in another scoff, flickering his gaze from his hand to his annoyingly handsome face.

“I can’t believe this.”

The universe is really taking its time with Jisung, because why are they sending the hottest guy on campus to supervise him and have him be an annoyingly arrogant and cocky asshole about it? If he wasn’t so hot, his ego wouldn’t have been this huge.

Minho shrugs as he clicks his tongue, retreating his hand when Jisung doesn’t take it.

Instead, Jisung glares at him accusatorily, “Do you make a habit of harassing the students you supervise?”

“No, just you.”

Soldier down. His tongue is too quick for Jisung, always finding something to bring him to disbelief. 

“Don’t tell me you hate this, I can see you blushing.”

Jisung has to fight back the urge to touch his reddening face as he realises how quickly his body betrays him in front of his newly made arch enemy. Because Jisung is pretty sure that if this guy is going to supervise all of his detentions, one of them is not going to get out alive.

Might as well be Minho, because Jisung is already imagining himself wrapping his hands around his neck and—

“You have awful pick up lines.”

He doesn’t know what else to say, his fury a boiling hot pot as it whistles aggressively, hoping any sort of insult would irritate Minho.

Instead, his grin widens even more, if that’s even possible.

“They worked wonders on you, didn’t they?”

“Piss off.”

Jisung sits back in his chair as he crosses his arms, holding his gaze anywhere else. He hates how affected he’s getting by all this, unable to deny the rapid increase of his heart beat, and just the thought of this guy knowing he’s hot and going for it makes his blood boil.

“So no to the sex? It doesn’t have to be right here, but if you insist I wouldn’t say no.”

Jisung grimaces at him. “We literally just met.”

Minho flutters his eyelashes at him as if he didn’t let out the most depraved thing come out of his mouth. 

“Don’t need to know you to realise you’d look hot as fuck under me.”

Jisung feels his anger prickle. The nerve of this guy.

And the way embarrassment drowns him, feeling his blush creep up on the entirety of his face with a burning hot sensation makes him want to crawl into a hole and disappear. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll last in front of Minho, already feeling seconds away from breaking.

“Who said I’d bottom?”

Minho’s face lights up. “So you’re interested.”

“What?”

“You’re interested in hooking up.”

Jisung looks around as if he can’t believe what he’s just heard. “Who the fuck said that?”

Truth is, he wouldn’t be against it. Come on, the guy is hot as fuck. He’d just need to tape his mouth shut in order for the mood to not die down. If he’d spew some bullshit like this, Jisung would get turned off instantly.

“I just know you’d look absolutely beautiful after I’m done with you.”

As much as Jisung feels himself seethe, he can’t turn away the images Minho had just put in his head, silently cursing him for looking so perfect.

In spite of all that, Jisung resorts to his usual answer.

“You wouldn’t catch me near your dick even if hell froze over.”

Minho purses his lips, but his smile never ceases.

Jisung expects him to say more, to push more and drive his nerves over the edge. He’s surprised when Minho silently returns to his phone, seemingly having more important business than getting off to making Jisung mad.

Fine. He’ll just go back to working on his homework, it’s not like he has anything better to do for the next two hours.

Actually, one and a half. Minho made sure to keep him occupied.

Fucking great.

He definitely has something to complain about to Chan for the next two weeks. Whenever something bothers him, he won’t stop until he feels like he’s let it all out.

“Sooo, what you here for?”

The sound of Minho’s voice startles Jisung as he definitely didn’t expect him to pick up a conversation again, seemingly having enough with taking the piss at him. Boy, how wrong he was.

He’d want to gaslight himself into believing that the timbre is annoying, like gravel, hell, like the fucking chalk the algebra teacher used to scratch on the blackboard whenever she’d explain stuff Jisung always deemed useless. The truth is completely on opposite ends of Jisung’s wishes. Minho’s voice is so airy, and so fucking raspy it’s crazy, and it just creates insanity in Jisung’s mind.

“Keying the dean’s car? Stealing a bicycle? Oh wait, forgot to say ‘good morning’ to your favourite professor? Don’t tell me you’re one of those.”

The tone in Minho’s voice is purely derisive. Jisung rolls his eyes.

“Shut up.”

Sentences would come out of Minho’s mouth like vomit, the never ending taking the piss at Jisung is such a fun activity being his newfound hobby.

“You’re a real comedian, you know that?”

“Thanks, I try.”

Jisung feels his teeth grit as he rolls his eyes. He was actually thinking of having a normal conversation with Minho but never mind that.

It seems like the littlest bit of human in Minho seems to come out of hibernation as a softness takes over his expression, the slyness in his smile turning kind. Jisung can almost let himself be fooled. He shakes his head and gets back to his homework.

“Come on, you can tell me.” His voice seems honest, genuine.

Jisung raises his gaze with suspicion, the corners of his eyes sharpening.

Minho seems to take the hint, pulling away with his arms in the air as he surrenders, “No jokes this time. I promise.”

The way he raises his pinky as if they’re two best friends making life long promises to each other irks Jisung. 

With a roll of his eyes, Jisung swats his hand away and sighs, “Having sex on college grounds, except I didn’t do it.”

He hears Minho snort.

“Sure sweetie.”

“Minho.” His tone is stern, warning.

“That’s okay, I like bad boys. They turn me on.”

Jisung groans, but he can’t help the small smile that threatens to erupt, so he places his hand to his mouth in order to hide it.

Then Minho seems to notice Jisung sulking as his eyes fall back on his almost finished homework. His face softens more, letting way for emotion to cover it.

“Then why are you here?” He breaks the silence and Jisung closes his eyes.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t even there and for some magical reason the surveillance cameras stopped working.” He places his hands on his face, groaning. “The dean told me word from campus spread around that it was me.”

“Strange.”

It was indeed very strange. Who would have it out for Jisung? He didn’t even do anything! Ever.

It’s been so many times that he was called in the dean’s office and scolded for stuff he didn’t do. That’s one of the many reasons he gained the reputation of a rebellious bad boy, word on the street being that his body count was higher than the sky and that everyone wants a chance with him. 

Sure, he’d play in it just for funsies, posting thirst traps on his Instagram stories, throwing frat parties and writing filthy lyrics that would instantly spread like wildfire across campus, but he’d never done anything that would be considered illegal.

The fact that he spends time surrounded by more rebellious people —his fratmates for example— is a whole other story. And yeah, that adds to his image as well.

Maybe the dean has this vendetta against him because of his reputation and normalized blaming Jisung for every out of order thing that happens on his campus.

“Oh Minho, I’m not surprised to find you here!” The exclamation in the library lady’s voice breaks Jisung out of his reverie. “You’re such a hardworking student, always doing extra curricular activities and helping around the library.”

Minho stares at her with the most innocent achingly sweet smile Jisung has ever seen —and frankly didn’t know it was possible. He basks in the attention like a small butterfly while gladly receiving the praises.

Then she turns to Jisung, her gaze completely shifting.

“You should take him as an example, Jisung. I heard you’ve been getting in a lot of trouble lately.”

He can feel the way his teeth clench, almost feeling them crack under the pressure, while his glare snaps on Minho who dares stare back at him with feign innocence and confusion in his eyes, just shrugging at him. Just fucking shrugging, like he’s not the devil incarnate.

Jisung can’t believe this shit.

With a sigh, he places his headphones on his head and makes it his life’s mission to finish his homework, putting away all distractions. And especially Minho.

Sweet innocent Minho.

Jisung wants to puke.

He already hates this guy. The arrogance he has, and the shamelessness, and the way he thinks everything should be handed to him if he asks and and—

Good fucking god. Jisung is pissed.

How does he get in trouble, but someone like Minho doesn’t? It’s just not fair.

Alas. He thought that the moment the clock hits eight pm, all of his worries would disappear. But everyone faces obstacles in their life. Jisung’s just so happens to take the shape of a certain Lee Minho.

Because as big as his confidence is, his depraved mouth seems to surpass it in every category.

Jisung’s mind has already entered a state where he was trying to block out every negative obstruction of peace, because he vaguely remembers Minho stopping him from getting up before saying a,

“So, my place or yours tonight?”

And Jisung’s own words remain engraved in his mind for days to come,

“Fuck off, and go take it up with someone that actually wants to be near your dick.”

“This dude is the most arrogant, conceited, piece of shit I’ve ever met!”

Jisung’s voice booms the moment he enters Chan’s room, dropping his backpack to the ground as he complains.

Chan is sitting at the desk, working on his laptop as he asks, eyes huge when he gazes at Jisung.

“That bad?”

“Worse than you can ever possibly imagine. I mean, can you believe I’ll have to deal with this asshole for a month? I barely made it out today without strangling him, and the fuckass dean wants me to spend my detentions with this jerk?”

As soon as he was done with everything that day, getting started on community service around campus and spending the following two hours in detention, he headed straight towards the frat house. He was insanely jealous of the other guys that didn’t share his problems.

“Are you sure you weren’t already frustrated with the situation and just took it out on him?” Chan asks as he spins in his chair, dashing in Jisung’s direction.

He stops in his knees as Jisung crosses his arms and looks down at him.

“Sure I’m sure. I didn’t need to be already pissed with that attitude of his to make me want to—“

He hears his best friend sigh as he wraps his arms around Jisung’s legs.

“Okay, okay. You wanna watch Howl’s Moving Castle and order sushi? That ought to cheer you up.”

Jisung pretends to think for a moment before he mutters, “Fine.”

At least Chan always found a way to make his days suck less. That’s basically the only reason he keeps going. Chan knows and understands him too well for his own good.

Unfortunately, good things can’t last forever and they can change even the next morning.

Even when you think you’re finally going to have a nice relaxing day, attending classes as usual and pretending to be listening to the professor.

Enter: Lee Minho

Jisung feels his entire body still, eyebrows tugging together as his gaze never leaves Minho’s approaching silhouette.

Minho doesn’t even cast him a glance as he stops in front of Jisung’s lecture desk, right across from a guy that was sitting next to him.

He chews his gum in an almost irritated way, his gaze traveling up and down the guy’s body with a hint of superiority, as if he’s judging him, as if he’s giving him a silent threat.

The guy squirms uncomfortably next to Jisung, looking around to see if Minho’s really looking at him. Jisung keeps his eyes on his opened laptop, pretending to be interested in his notes.

Then, he feels a vibration boom through his desk the moment Minho lets his backpack fall on the surface. Jisung jumps in his seat at the same time his desk mate does. Minho leans forward, resting his hands on the table as he tilts his head, a wicked smile tugging at his lips.

“W-would you like me to move?” The guy stutters as he already begins packing up his things.

“Would love to.” Minho tsks his tongue as he blows a bubble.

When the guy moves, Jisung feels his entire day get ruined, somehow all of his failures in his life falling down on him and making him miserable. He has to force back a sigh when Minho jumps across the desk and takes his rightful seat next to Jisung.

“Didn’t know you took this class.” He mutters through gritted teeth, eyes still glued on his laptop.

Minho laughs as he gets himself comfortable, “I do. I just never attend.”

And you decided today.

Jisung should be grateful Minho didn’t scare off the other guys sitting at their desk, at least. They were in an amphitheater with long lecture desks stretching on each side and each step. Jisung always preferred sitting at the front.

He should thank Minho for this benevolent act of letting everyone else sit at the same desk. What a good heart he has.

What really irks Jisung the wrong way is Minho not sparing him a glance for the rest of the lecture. He expected him to start flirting terribly with him and make him mad, but nothing. Not even one little word, one single breath in Jisung’s way. Nothing.

And that irritates him. What? He’s all over Jisung the day before and now he’s pretending he doesn’t even know him?

“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He grunts as he snaps his laptop shut, placing the palms of his hands on it, as he whips his head towards Minho.

Minho doesn’t even look at him, that irritatingly attractive smirk on his lips as he keeps his eyes on the professor.

“Are you gonna keep pretending you’re not attracted to me?”

“What makes you think I’m attracted to you?”

“Everyone is.”

Jisung feels the pink of a blush forming on his face, feeling the tips of his ears burning hotly under his skin.

“Cute.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters annoyed as he covers his head with a hoodie.

The fucking nerve of this guy, playing around with Jisung like this and luring him into his trap. Jisung feels like a helpless bunny trapped in the claws of a vicious fox. This is just not fair.

“I don’t get why you’re here.”

He sees the way Minho turns around, an innocent look in his eyes, but Jisung knows better.

“ ‘cause I’m a student of this college and I want to learn? Isn’t that the point?”

Jisung feels his eye twitch, utterly annoyed with this facade of his.

“I’m sure.” Sarcasm drips on his words as he turns around annoyed.

He feels Minho shift closer to him, his presence in his space overwhelming. And Jisung can’t help the way goosebumps arise all over his skin and warmth settles on his stomach. 

Then, Minho places his hand on his thigh, dangerously high, and Jisung feels his breath hitch in his throat. His heartbeat picks up its pace as the blush on his face deepens, and oh fuck, he hopes he’s not sweating or anything. That would embarrass him so much more.

“Did you change your mind?” His voice is a sultry whisper, and Jisung’s going crazy at the warmth breath fanning over his cheek.

He turns his face away, trying to control his breath as he asks in a strained voice, “About what?”

You know what.

There’s nothing to change his mind about. He wants to fuck Minho, but he’s so fucking arrogant and cocky that it pisses Jisung off when he thinks he can get anything with a snap of his fingers. He should work for it more if he wants it that bad, and tone down his attitude.

Jisung’s never seen anyone as insanely attractive as Minho before, that he feels a strong urge in his body to hook up with him, something he never does.

“About this question right here. Your answer is wrong.” Minho taps with Jisung’s pen on his paper, pointing to a question.

His eyes snap towards the paper, feeling vexation rise before he yanks it out of Minho’s hand. “You’re unbelievable.”

Minho raises his eyebrows questioningly, tilting his head. “What? Did you think I was talking about something else?”

“You’re so annoying.”

But as soon as he lets those words fly out of his mouth, the professor fixes him with his gaze. “Is there a problem, Jisung?”

Jisung feels himself freeze, all the life draining out of him at the mention of his name. Instead, he hears Minho’s voice speak up for him.

“Sorry professor, I just asked him about question number fourteen and he was helping me.”

His smug, innocent fucking grin is driving Jisung insane.

The professor tilts his glasses on his nose before he continues, “If there’s anything you don’t know, you can just ask me.”

“Noted. Thank you, professor.”

Jisung can see the play in expressions on Minho’s face, how he morphs and adapts them to fit any situation, to get out of this unscathed, to be on everyone’s good side and seek the perfect, innocent student that is just so eager to learn.

Jisung finds himself staring at him for the rest of the lecture, noting how the bridge of his nose smooths out with a perfectly sculptured nose, followed by a beautiful pout that glides with sweetness whenever he wants something, and ultimately earns it easily. He feels the way his own teeth unconsciously bite in the cushion of his bottom lip, refraining from letting out his true, raw thoughts about Lee Minho.

Jisung wants to fucking jump on him and ravish him, kiss the hell out of him as he pounds into Jisung, calling him pretty names and driving Jisung into a frenzy.

Yeah.

Jisung is officially in hell.

Friday seems to come at least, this entire week passing excessively slowly. Jisung’s absolutely sure he’s in hell because time for him seems to pass at a torturing pace while everyone else’s is normal. He’s been miserable.

Jisung sighs as he rests against a wall, talking to his dear friend Jeongin, whose reputation does not help Jisung’s case. One may get fooled by his innocent, majestic face with those cherubic dimples that enhance his good boy vibes, but Jeongin has earned himself the official title of the campus drug dealer.

He’s been doing it on the DL these past few months after he’s been called in the dean’s office, along with his parents, several times and threatened in numerous ways. He never cared, of course. Being the ambassador’s son had its perks.

“I genuinely think everyone has it out for me.” Jisung mutters, staring in oblivion.

Jeongin brings a cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply in his chest, as his eyes never leave Jisung. “Do you have any idea who would set you up like that? An angry ex? Maybe someone who asked for your homework and you refused to give it to them?”

Jisung snorts at Jeongin’s attempt at a joke as he lightly punches him in the shoulder. As he opens his mouth to throw back a snarky remark, a professor passes by and fixes them with his gaze, instantly reprimanding Jeongin about smoking on college grounds.

With a roll of his eyes, he throws it on the ground and stomps it with his foot, groaning silently. Jisung bites his lip as he watches his movement, seeing how the professor arranges his collar and goes on with his day.

“I just know Mr. Kim hasn’t gotten laid in years.” Jeongin mutters under his breath as he glares at the departing professor over his shoulder. “He’s got a stick up his ass, I swear. Hey, do you remember that Instagram page that would post gossip about everyone in our college?”

Jisung feels dread in his stomach at the mention, remembering all the horrible rumours people posted, and a lot of them about him. “You know, I never once sent a tip to them.”

Jeongin gapes at him, surprise in his eyes. “What? Shut up, I don’t believe you!”

Jisung shrugs. “I never got the hype of spreading baseless rumours.”

Jeongin tsks. “You’re too good for your own good. I once sent a tip about Seungmin’s crush on our literature professor.”

Jisung feels laughter erupt from the depth of his stomach. “No fucking way, the one about him wearing shorts only when he had literature classes?”

“Yes sir.” Jeongin confirms as he looks around before getting his cigarette pack out of his pocket and searches for another.

“You’re fucking evil man.”

“The look on his face was worth everything. Too bad the page was taken down after a year. Someone must’ve snitched to the dean about it.”

Jisung hisses as he inhales a deep breath, checking the time on his phone. “Time to return to hell.”

Jeongin pats him comfortingly on his arm, pulling him into a half hug. “It’s gonna be over sooner than you know it.”

Jisung closes his eyes, tugging his eyebrows together in pain. “I hope so. Hey,” He turns to his friend with an idea in his eyes, “bring me some of your stuff tomorrow night at the party. God knows I need it.”

Jeongin smiles at him. “Will do.”

When Jisung enters the library, his eyes instantly find Minho who’s arranging some books on a shelf. His glasses rest on his nose as he holds a pencil in between his lips and notebook in one of his hands, probably noting places and numbers of the orders.

The sound of the bell announcing his presence seems to set off Minho, his ears instantly perking up in Jisung’s direction and his face lighting up warmly. He shoots him a sweet smile and Jisung can only roll his eyes as he hurries to his usual seat.

He places his headphones over his ears and pulls out his phone.

The tap of a notebook over his head startles him, looking up to see Minho hovering over him. Jisung has to force back a groan as he removes a headphone to be able to hear what the eldest is telling him.

“No phones allowed during detention.” He stretches out his hand expectantly.

Jisung scoffs in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”

Minho only tilts his head, his smile widening.

Jisung clicks his tongue, pulling his gaze away as he hands Minho his phone. He can’t fucking believe this. And this motherfucker is doing everything to piss him off.

“I’ll finish some work with the books and I’ll be right back.” Minho taps him again with his notebook and Jisung feels his temper prickle.

Can’t fucking wait.

As Jisung pretends to be interested in the notes he took today, he can’t help but sneak glances at Minho. He sees a sliver of his skin showing when he reaches for some books way above his height, causing everything sane in his mind to crumble. Jisung can’t believe he’s being so worked up over something like this.

He wants to turn away and put a stop to these crazy thoughts, but he just can’t. Not when Minho’s concentrated face, his statuesque features sewn on his face in the most beautiful, Greek god like way, exist just like that. He can’t believe someone with such a perfect face simply walks around his campus.

And he can’t believe he’d turned him down.

Jisung shakes his head free of these insane thoughts, reminding himself what an arrogant prick Minho is.

But still, when Minho finally finishes, he turns his face towards Jisung and their gazes lock together. Jisung can’t get used to the idea of the effect those pretty eyes have on him, because he feels his breath hit the back of his throat as it hitches panicked. He quickly turns away, embarrassed that he’s been caught staring.

He’s acting like a middle schooler with a crush.

Minho seems to notice that, the smug smirk on his face being a strong indicator, but he’s nice enough to not mention it when he sits across Jisung.

He takes out his phone and Jisung feels offended. “Why is it that you can use your phone and I can’t?”

Minho blinks. “Because you’re in detention and I’m not.”

“Technically, so are you. See, if I’m in detention and you’re supervising me while in detention that means you’re also spending your time in detention, so in conclusion, you’re in detention.” Jisung feels a word vomit coming out from his mouth when he gets even more riled up, unable to stop the words from pouring on his tongue as he shoots Minho a faux smile.

He sees Minho sigh as he places his phone the other way. “Fine, then we’ll talk.”

Fuck. Jisung didn’t think it through. He’s always talked first and thought about the consequences after. He does not wanna talk to Minho. Who knows what bullshit he’ll spill?

“On second thought, go ahead and watch your Instagram reels or whatever. I’ll just read my notes.”

Jisung struggles with concentrating on his notes when the most beautiful man he’s ever seen is sitting across from him. And it’s making him mad.

He feels so hot and bothered when Minho glances briefly at him, his intense gaze burning all over Jisung’s skin and causing butterflies to swarm in his stomach. Especially when he has such a smug smirk on his face, knowing how deeply it affects Jisung.

The pair of Minho’s legs snaking their way around Jisung’s calves, slightly tugging as he rubs them up and down, causes Jisung’s breath to stop in his chest. Goosebumps arise all over and he fucking knows Minho is watching.

Because the next thing he feels is the tip of Minho’s foot pressing at Jisung’s crotch, feeling his cock harden in his pants at the tension filling the air.

Jisung gulps as he feels everything drain from his body, his mind going crazy, as his eyes set on Minho. There’s something similar to surprise glinting in them, but also need and desperation having a strong presence.

He quickly grabs ahold of himself as he snaps a glare at Minho, pushing his feet off his hardening cock while he curses at him. 

Jisung fucking hates that he’s so turned on by a mere touch, he fucking hates that he feels his tip leaking against his briefs and he fucking hates that Minho is so right about everything.

Jisung really is attracted to Minho.

He’s too fucking turned on for his own good. He’s going to have to do something about it. Tonight.

Jisung is going to have his first hook up in a while. And he knows just the guy. He’s had him in his mind for a while, as the guy continuously swarmed around Jisung like a bee while proposing him to fuck.

Fine, whatever. This is an emergency. And it’s not like Jisung’s complaining, the guy is hot as fuck. Word is that he used to be a professional figure skater.

That’s how he finds himself in the guy’s dorm room late in the evening, a simple text being the answer to all his problems.

Jisung moans quietly, shuddering at the guy’s mouth on him as heat takes its rightful place in his stomach. It’s been so long since he felt a touch like this, and he missed it so fucking much.

“Fuck, Sunghoon hurry~” He mewls pathetically when he feels a bite at his neck, causing him to squirm.

“Yeah? You want it that bad?” Jisung feels his smirk against his skin.

He only nods helplessly when he opens his eyes to look at him, to see the face hovering over him as each piece of clothing is slowly removed.

And Jisung can only curse himself for the way he imagined Minho in Sunghoon’s place when he closed his eyes and drowned in the pleasure. 

Fuck Minho for being on his mind all the time, fuck him for making Jisung obsessed and fuck him for being so goddamn attractive it hurts.

He feels so powerless, like he has no control over his thoughts and desires as his urges keep growing stronger, wishing it was Minho instead of anyone kissing him like this.

The only reason he’s been so eager to get laid, to finally accept Sunghoon’s advances has been Minho.

“You’re so fucking hot, Jisung, can’t believe it took you so long to finally let me fuck you.” His words are breathless as they muffle against Jisung.

Jisung can only whimper under him, impatient to just feel that pleasure over him again and skip this useless small talk. He’s not interested in that.

“I’ve been thinking of this for so long.”

Jisung gazes up at him, inspecting his features and staring at them until they unconsciously morph into Minho’s, cursing him for taking over his entire being.

“Please, let’s just—“

“Fuck, you should’ve heard the way I moaned out your name that time in the library.”

Jisung feels his heart drop to his stomach.

What?

His entire body freezes, eyes widening in shock as he pushes Sunghoon off, stopping his movements. 

“What did you say?”

Sunghoon keeps quiet for a moment, tilting his head as he inhales deeply, “That I want you so bad?”

Jisung seethes as realization downs upon him. “Afterwards.” He mutters through gritted teeth, feeling his anger spark.

Sunghoon looks around, “The— the library thing?”

Jisung can’t fucking believe this. His fury grows, feeling it explode like an erupting volcano, stretching all over his nerves. He gets up from the bed with clenched fists.

“You set me up?”

Sunghoon’s jaw falls as he stutters. “No, I— I didn’t mean to, I mean— uh, people started spreading those rumours that I fucked you in the library and—“

Jisung pads towards him, hair falling in his face as he throws him a lethal glare, his nostrils flaring. “And you didn’t shut those rumours down?”

Sunghoon steps back, a sheepish smile on his face as he raises his hands up in defeat, “No, I m-mean, I was so happy people thought I slept with you that I didn’t—“

“Are you fucking serious? You have no idea what those rumours did to me!”

“It’s not a big deal.” Sunghoon insists and Jisung sees red.

“Not a big deal? You really think this is helping your case?”

“Jisung, come on—“

“Fuck you.”

Jisung feels his voice crack under the pressure with fury as he pushes Sunghoon, restraining every bone in his body from delivering a punch straight to his face. Instead, he grabs his shirt from the floor and storms out of his dorm.

Jisung can’t fucking believe the hell he’s actually living in. This cannot be real. It’s a nightmare he should wake up from.

He fucking hates everyone and everything.

He didn’t even want to fuck him that bad anyways.

“How’s my favourite bad boy?”

The sound of Changbin’s wayyy too cheerful voice for eight o’clock in the morning greets him in a song, teasing and irritating.

Jisung rolls his eyes as he playfully punches him in the shoulder, freezing his ass off from the January cold.

“Don’t start.” He warns and Changbin laughs, slapping his ass when Jisung starts stretching.

“Come on Jisungie, you’re the talk of the campus.”

“It’s too early for your shit.” Jisung states as he tries tripping his teammate.

“For whose shit?” He hears Chan’s voice join when the rest of the boys come on the field for their morning warmup.

“You know Changbin and his wicked sense of humour, making fun of my misery and shit.”

“It just brings me happiness!”

“Okay, that’s it—“ Jisung stops talking when he jumps on Changbin and they start wrestling around the field, while Chan can only pitch the bridge of his nose as he sighs deeply.

Changbin quickly gets the upper hand and overthrows Jisung, pinning him to the ground and twisting his arms behind his back as he laughs maniacally.

“Okay ouch, ouch you bitch— you won, get off me!” Jisung yelps loudly as he struggles pushing Changbin off him and the other continues laughing.

“Don’t start if you can’t take the heat.” He sing songs to which Jisung replies under his breath something like I’ll show you heat, just you wait.

Chan sighs deeply as he turns around, beginning to get ready.

“Oh wait, wait Channie hyung, I wanna tell you something—“ Jisung jumps instantly when he sees Chan about to begin training.

He has to be in his best shape to tell him the newest piece of information. Chan turns around with an expectant raised eyebrow that Jisung takes as a sigh to continue.

Changbin headlocks Jisung as he speaks, not tight enough to choke him while they slightly push each other around.

“I found out who set me up with that rumour.”

He hears Changbin gasp dramatically from next to him, letting go of Jisung and staring at him wide eyed. Chan’s expression turns serious, something irritated glinting in his gaze.

Jisung feels dread settle in his stomach at the thought, remembering all the bad vibes his professors show him all the time and the way it impacts his daily life.

“Well? Who was it?” Changbin insists and Jisung looks at the pair as he sighs.

He feels slight anxiety glow in his chest, sharpening its claws in him as he hesitates. Chan assures him that it’s okay and Jisung feels comforted at his words.

Bless Chan and his kind heart. Jisung doesn’t know what he would’ve done without him.

“So—“

Jisung sighs irritated when he feels someone interrupt him, seeing how both Chan and Changbin whip their heads with a glare at the intruder.

“Hey guys—“ Soobin comes with a ball under his arm while Keeho follows.

“Piss off, this is a private conversation.” Jisung waves him away and he earns two glares.

“I wasn’t here for whatever gossip you have, I was going to ask Chan—“

“I’ll be there in five. Wait for me.” Chan nods him away and he earns himself an eye roll, but Soobin obediently leaves.

Jisung looks at them pitifully before his gaze flickers away embarrassed.

“It was Sunghoon.”

“Sunghoon? You sure?” He hears Changbin ask through gritted teeth, his short temper prickling.

Jisung nods while Chan’s expression hardens. 

“How do you know?”

“It’s— well, it’s really embarrassing. But he confessed it to me, before we— uhm, you know,”

Changbin’s jaw falls. “Don’t tell me—“

“No no no, god no. I stopped it when he told me. I was so mad I couldn’t stand looking at him.” Jisung places his hands all over his face as he tries to hide away.

“I’ll deal with him.” Chan’s voice finally rises with determination.

Jisung stares at him, eyes wide, while Changbin scoffs and pulls away as he heads for the field.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. He should’ve never messed with you.” 

There’s something sinister in Chan’s voice and Jisung doesn’t know if he should feel grateful or fearful.

He’s so thankful for his friends always being there for him, having his back all the time and cheering him up, but unfortunately even they can’t take his mind off things completely.

Not when he finds himself in the kitchen of his frat house, in the middle of a party with booming loud music and drunk people chattering and playing stupid games, while he’s arguing with Sunghoon. Again.

This is supposed to be a fun time, partying and celebrating, not fighting with assholes on campus about fake rumours.

“I can’t believe you’re still going with this. You know what, I can’t even look at you right now.” Jisung scoffs as he rounds around the kitchen counter, heading for the fridge.

Sunghoon throws his hands in the air exasperated as he tugs on Jisung’s football jersey, pulling him back to talk.

“I told you I’m sorry!”

Jisung glares at him. “Not sorry enough to shut those rumours down.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes annoyed. “What will it take you to believe how sorry I am?”

Jisung feels boldness swim through his veins from the previous shots he downed his throat, as he clicks his tongue and places his hands on his hips. “Gee, I don’t know. Go and fucking tell the dean it was you? Why am I the one taking the fall? I wasn’t even there.”

Sunghoon dares stare at Jisung, almost in disbelief. What did he expect Jisung to say? That he wants an apology kiss from him? Can he be fucking serious?

“What? Are you crazy? Why would I do that?”

Jisung feels himself seethe. “The same reason you fucked in the library? Are you seriously asking me that? Why would you even do that if you can’t take responsibility?"

“The point is to not get caught.” Sunghoon tells him matter of factly and Jisung feels himself slamming the glass he just got against the counter.

He seriously thinks he’s going to pop a vein someday. This guy is unbelievable.

“But put the blame on me?”

“How was I supposed to know they were going to blame you? It’s really not your fault, you should tell the dean that.”

Thanks for the idea, genius.

Instead he goes for something like,

“Yeah, it’s not my fault you’re like, in love with me or something. And you just couldn’t stop yourself from screaming my name all around the library for everyone to hear, right?”

Sunghoon throws the nastiest glare Jisung has ever seen. “You really think everyone is in love with you? No wonder you have those nasty rumours going around.”

At the same time Jisung sees Chan approaching, his gaze filled with vexation, while Sunghoon begins storming off and bumps into Chan. Jisung hurries after him to throw back a snarky remark, because who the fuck does he think he is?

“Let go of me— wait ‘til—“

Unfortunately, he feels Chan place both of his hands on his shoulders and still him in place. “Let’s go somewhere quiet. You’re angry and drunk.”

“I’m not fucking drunk, just angry and feeling incredibly violent right now.”

There’s sternness in Chan’s gaze as he forcibly turns Jisung around and drags him towards the stairs. Jisung keeps struggling in his hold, looking over his shoulder as he loses his target in the crowd. He stumbles over his feet while Chan guides him upstairs.

“He fucking admitted it, Chan he did, I swear—“

“I know, Jisungie.” Chan’s voice is hard.

But his answer throws Jisung off even more.

“So what are we doing? We should report him immediately, Chan please let go of me, I need to—“

He gets pushed into a room —Chan’s room by the looks of it— and he feels Chan guiding him to his bed. “Relax.”

Jisung’s entire face is red with anger and Chan has the nerve to tell him to relax? 

“What? No, I will not fucking relax, that—“

“Drink this.” Chan shoves a glass of water in his face.

Jisung so desperately wants to reject it out of pride, but despite that he resentfully accepts it, downing it in one go. Fuck, the cold sensation feels refreshing.

“More.”

Chan obediently fills him another glass of water and gives it to Jisung, talking to him in a soothing, calm voice. He uses the tone he always goes for when Jisung is in a bad mood, somehow having the key to every part of Jisung’s mind, knowing exactly what to tell him and how to comfort him. Jisung feels tears brim his waterline from the anger he’s experiencing, frustrated at the unfair treatment.

Chan understands him better than anyone else.

A shy knock at the door interrupts the two, with Chan sitting on his knees in front of Jisung while both of his hands rest on his younger friend’s thighs. Jisung sits at the edge of the bed, resting his head on Chan’s shoulder.

Both of their heads snap towards the opening door, only to be greeted with Jeongin’s head popping in hesitantly.

“Is it a bad time?”

Chan looks at Jisung expectantly, waiting for him to do things at his own pace. Jisung sighs as he shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. Come in.”

When Jisung goes to let his body fall on the bed, he freezes instantly. Because what he doesn’t expect is to see Jeongin enter his room followed by someone.

And not just anyone.

Lee mr. supervisor Minho.

Jisung lets out the loudest groan ever as he turns around, stuffing his face in the cushion, mumbling something incoherently.

He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat when their eyes met.

“What?” Chan asks and Jisung screams as he instantly grabs a pillow.

Everyone shares bewildered glances while Jisung throws in all the dramatics.

“This day couldn’t get any worse.” He explains when he finally decides to let his thoughts be heard.

Jeongin stills, looking around confused, somehow feeling blamed. “Did I do something wrong? I can leave—“ He turns around to head for the door.

Minho rests against the wall, arms crossed with his gaze fixed on Jisung. He’s sporting slicked back silver hair adorned by a head to toe full on black attire, his style never missing even on a Saturday night. Minho stops Jeongin from leaving with a hand around his biceps.

“I think it’s something to do with me.”

“Ya think?” Jisung’s voice is sarcastic as he forces himself up and drags his feet across the room. “I’ll need another drink if I want to get through the night.”

“Wait a minute, you two know each other?” Chan stands as he points at the two confused. Jeongin raises an eyebrow as he shares Chan’s emotions.

Minho holds a small sardonic smile as Jisung passes by him with a glare, going for the Vodka bottle Chan has hidden away from the party with the thought of forgetting about this nightmare he’s living in.

“He’s my supervisor.” Jisung explains as he grabs his previous glass, but instantly starts whining when Chan takes both the glass and the Vodka bottle away, “Hey!“

“What? Minho is your supervisor?” His timbre pitches with surprise.

“Now that’s really funny.” Jeongin mutters amused from where he’s sitting on the bed.

“Jeongin I swear to god, if that page was still active I would’ve sent the nastiest tip about you right now.” Jisung threatens as he sits on Chan’s table, crossing his arms and sulking.

Jeongin chuckles as he throws his head back, “My fault Sungie, forgot you’re sensitive about this whole detention thing.”

“Sooo, what do you think of Minho? He’s pretty cool right?” Chan sits on bed next to Jeongin, and Jisung feels like he’s just presenting his boyfriend to his parents for the first time.

He rolls his eyes as he lays back on the table, his glare never leaving Minho’s silhouette.

“An annoying asshole, that’s what he is.”

He hears Chan’s gasp echo around the room while Jeongin presses a hand to his mouth, stifling a laugh.

“Minho don’t mind him, he’s drunk. I promise he’s nice on a normal day.” Chan hurries to explain, feeling obligated for both him and Jisung’s behaviour.

Minho doesn’t look pissed at all. He’s with that amused smile on his face as he gazes lazily at Jisung who only sticks his tongue out at him.

“Nah, it’s cool. He tells me that all the time.” Minho has to restrain his smile from growing as he glances at Jisung in a derisive manner.

His irritation claws at his chest the more Minho continues teasing him.

“Jisung!” Chan looks at Jisung as he wears a reprimanding tone.

“What? It’s true.” 

“No, it’s not. Minho’s a good guy. He doesn’t have one evil bone in his body.”

Jisung has to force back a groan as he lets his back fall against the wall, rolling his eyes violently. He can basically imagine Minho’s smirk widening the more his facade floats unwavering.

“His entire existence is evil.”

“Why are you being like that? It’s not his fault he has to supervise you. Don’t blame him.” Chan scolds him and Jisung flips him off.

“He can be less of a jerk while doing so, then.” Jisung turns to Minho. “No offense, but you’re not helping your case.”

Minho shrugs with a smile. “None taken, Jisungie.”

The way the nickname rolls off his tongue short circuits in Jisung’s brain, freezing everything in his body for a moment, contrasting with the intense heat that’s swarming over him. He can feel his breath lose its usual rhythm as he plays the sound over and over again in his mind.

When Chan opens his mouth to speak again, the door opens suddenly as it bangs against the wall.

“Chan, there’s two guys yelling and threatening people downstairs.” A guy speaks hurriedly, panic in his voice as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.

Jisung hears Jeongin sigh as he begins getting up, “Those are mine, unfortunately.”

Chan points to Jisung, a warning in his eyes that’s basically telling him be nice to Minho, while Jisung pretends to look somewhere else, before he storms off muttering a quick thank you, Seungmin.

Jeongin stops in his tracks, glancing at Minho expectantly. “You comin’?”

Minho shakes his head silently while Jeongin shrugs before taking off after Chan.

Jisung lets out a deep exasperated and overexaggerated sigh, making sure Minho understands his suffering.

“Why are you here?”

Minho’s eyes land on Jisung, watching him from the periphery of his vision, as his corners tilt upwards.

“It’s a party, of course I came.”

“I’m sure of that.” Jisung mutters under his breath and that sets off Minho in a dramatised gasp.

“Are you doubting my motives?” His tone is derisive, as usual.

“Your words should be taken with a grain of salt.”

That amuses Minho because he’s laughing, finally moving from where he’s resting against the wall as he starts walking around Chan’s room, looking around curiously, more like snooping.

“What about you?” Minho asks without even sparing Jisung a glance as he begins flipping the pages of a random book he found.

Now Jisung is really offended, because ex-squeeze me?

“Me?” He scoffs, looking around as if there was someone else Minho could’ve possibly asked.

Minho hums, still not looking at Jisung and still fucking smirking, as if he planned this.

“This is the football team frat house.” 

That’s when Minho decides to spare him his attention. 

“So?”

Are we really doing this again?

“I’m on the football team, Minho.” He shoots him the most feigned smile, venom in his words. “See? Football jersey? Pictures of Chan and I at championships?” He tugs at his jersey showing it off to Minho, before pointing at the shelves where Chan keeps his pictures.

Minho raises his eyebrows, a sarcastic tone in the higher pitch in his voice, “You are?” He points to Jisung as if this is the first time he’s heard about this.

Jisung rolls his eyes as he gets off from Chan’s table. “I feel like you’re doing this on purpose.”

Minho stares at him wordlessly for a moment, his smirk gradually morphing into a soft smile as his whisker dimples enunciate.

“You’re right. I am.”

The statement makes Jisung shoulder Minho as he takes Chan’s book away and puts it back to its rightful place. Chan doesn’t like disorder in his room, nor does he like people snooping around. And God forbid Jisung is going to let someone else set him up again, because Chan will think it was Jisung going through his stuff again.

Jisung keeps his hands pressed on Chan’s desk, staring into oblivion as his vision glazes over the books. Thoughts and thoughts race through his mind reminding him of the past couple months. He hears Minho sighs behind him as he lays down in Chan’s bed and stretches.

“What’s on your mind, Jisung-ah?”

He feels his breath get stuck in his lungs at the voice.

“Minho, I’m not in the mood for bad jokes.” He whispers, closing his eyes.

“I’m serious, Jisung-ah. I promise.” The sincerity in Minho’s voice urges Jisung to hate how easy he folds, realising how much power Minho managed to get over him in just a matter of days.

He just sounds so trustworthy. So honest, easygoing, comfortable. And Jisung hates the way he’s falling for this trap as easily as everyone else does. Of course, everyone has a good opinion of Minho when he knows how to play the game.

But when he turns around, the way his gaze locks with Minho's, sends a spark all over his body, making Jisung want to put his trust in Minho.

Because he’s just, well, Minho.

“See?” Minho holds his pinky finger in the air as he did last time while making a silly promise, and Jisung has to fight back the urge to smile and bury it deep within.

Instead, he pads towards Minho, batting his hand away once again before taking a seat right next to him. Their sides touch and Jisung feels himself burning at the sensation, everything inside tingling.

“The guy who set me up, I found out who he is. And he doesn’t want to take accountability for his actions.” Jisung presses his knees to his chest as he stuffs his face in them. 

He feels like shit and doesn’t know what to do. When will people stop throwing him under the bus?

Jisung craves comfort, of any sort. Maybe Minho’s not the right person to talk about this, since not even long ago he declared him his arch enemy, but also since they don’t know each other very well. Plus, he’s not even serious about that arch enemy thing, Minho just takes pleasure in annoying the hell out of Jisung. Maybe he should change his—

“There’s nothing you can do about someone’s terrible behaviour. You know it’s not your fault.”

The sound of Minho’s voice holding a certain softness to it, one that Jisung isn’t used to as it does crazy things to his heart. He feels it hammering like a bird against his ribcage, threatening to fly out and splatter across the walls.

Jisung lets out a deep exhale as he shyly looks at Minho, feeling heat warm up his face as he’s undeniably red. From the alcohol, of course.

“But,”

Curiosity gnaws at him when Minho’s voice rises again, his head tilting as he raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“payback’s a thing. And it’s sooo exciting when it’s served cold.”

Jisung scoffs as he shakes his head, pulling his gaze away. “Minho, I don’t do payback. ‘ts just not my thing.”

He feels Minho shoulder him playfully, destabilising Jisung as he whips his head to stare at him.

“Maybe you don’t.”

“Huh?”

“But I do.”

Before Jisung even has the chance to ask Minho what he’s talking about, his mouth already open to let the next question fly, the sound of the door opening interrupts them.

“Some crazy beasts, I tell you that.” Jeongin’s voice rises through the loud booming music from downstairs, seemingly talking to Chan who’s just behind him.

He turns around to the pair, his expression lighting up. “Oh hey, Minho I’m gonna head to that club down the street. There’s some guys here waiting for us.”

Us?

Chan squeezes in the room, resting against the doorframe as he watches Minho get up and depart without another word while Jeongin throws them a peace sign before dipping.

“What were you guys doing?” Jisung asks in a quiet voice, a yawn taking over him as he suddenly realises how sleepy he feels.

Maybe he should call it a night.

Chan chuckles lowly, “Some of Jeongin’s guys were fighting downstairs over money, the usual.”

Jisung hums as he lays back on his friend’s bed, his gaze lingering on Minho’s spot, somehow still feeling his presence warm against his side. He’s surely going crazy.

“So, you and Minho, huh?” Chan’s voice startles Jisung.

“What?”

Chan has to force back that teasing smile from his face as he shrugs, looking anywhere else but Jisung. “Nothing.”

Jisung’s gaze narrows on him accusatorily. “Buuut?”

There’s always a but.

Chan hisses through his breath as he bites his bottom lip, deciding to tell Jisung his true thoughts.

“You might be getting along after all.”

Jisung feels a scoff bubble up in his throat, “Come on.”

“What? Told you it’s the surroundings affecting your opinion of him.” Chan insists and Jisung wants to grab the closest thing to throw at his head.

“You can’t be serious.”

Chan simply smiles at him, like he’s said the most innocent thing. Jisung glares at him.

“I will never get along with Minho. Ever.”

Monday night comes with the speed of light, finding Jisung busy writing and recording songs. He’s with Chan and Changbin in the studio they’ve been renting for months, trying out and practicing their verses while recording simultaneously.

At last, he has a little bit of peace in his life. That’s the beauty of music. And it eases Jisung’s life so much more. It’s like a light in the darkness.

It gives him a chance to breathe, to write his raw emotions on paper and pour them out in melodies, with a version of Jisung that isn’t described by rumours and plastered with all sorts of labels on him. It’s like a break from the world, giving him something to hold on to and he doesn’t feel the need to explain himself. No, music does all of that for him.

He can get lost in writing lyrics, trying new rhythms with his guitar, staying up all night and brainstorming the perfect verses that could be stitched together.

“Okay, good.” Chan’s voice booms through the room as he claps.

Jisung stares at Changbin who’s behind the glass, smiling proudly at the two, while he chews on a pencil and scribbles some notes.

He’s been staring at some lyrics, overthinking, completely unsatisfied with them as his mind has been in disarray for a while. It’s been harder to concentrate lately.

“Jisungie, you’re up.” He hears Changbin tell him as he takes back his seat next to Chan, grabbing his coffee to try and keep up with the night.

It’s a little after midnight and Jisung feels a little bit tired, but excited for the new song nonetheless.

“It’s almost done, we’re releasing it on Friday.” Chan announces and Jisung gives him a thumbs up.

They spend their time recording and discussing strategies, totally unaware of how fast the moon has been rolling on the night sky, passing hours unnoticed while chatter fills the studio.

Everyone is yawning, rubbing their eyes and surviving on coffee as they talk, before Changbin calls it a night with the arrival of two am.

“We really have to go back and rest. Tomorrow we have that pre-exam.” He begins stretching as he looks for his jacket, while Chan agrees.

Jisung can feel his heart drop in his stomach at the same time his jaw touches the floor. “I’m sorry, what?”

Changbin turns to him with a quirked eyebrow. “That history exam? It’s thirty percent of the grade.”

Jisung thinks he’s going to pass out.

This can’t be fucking happening. Again.

Is he ever going to get a break? He’s beginning to get sick and tired of everything being so against his entire existence.

“What are you talking about? The exam period isn’t until next week.” He tries reasoning with his friends, as if that’s going to change what’s set in stone.

Changbin and Chan share glances.

“Yeah but, we have one pre-exam tomorrow. Don’t tell me you forgot?”

Jisung totally forgot about it.

He laughs sheepishly as his gaze flickers away, while he scratches his head awkwardly. “Oh no, I didn’t. I mean, how could I forget?”

Yeah Jisung. How could you forget?

It’s not like the teacher has been reminding them of that specific exam for the past two weeks. Definitely not. Never happened. Nope nope nope. If Jisung can’t recall, it means it never happened.

“He totally forgot.” He hears Chan mutter quietly towards Changbin.

I’m standing right here. Jisung glares at him.

“Jisung-ah, really? You’re unbelievable.”

“Whatever, I’m gonna skip. It’s a way better option than embarrassing myself.” Jisung scoffs as he throws his hands in the air when he begins looking for his own jacket.

Chan cocks his head. “If I knew sooner you hadn't studied for it, I might’ve found a replacement for you.”

“Come and take the exam. Surely you might remember something from the lectures?”

Jisung sighs, feeling himself relax in the slightest. Okay, maybe there’s a chance he won’t totally bum this. Maybe Changbin is right and Jisung would thank his brain for unintentionally paying attention in class and telling him the answer to every question.

Maybe the little times he attended helped and something actually remained ingrained in his mind.

Or maybe,

He’s been gaslighting himself all along, because he’s been staring at his exam paper for the past seventeen minutes and he hasn’t written one word, not even a small idea of what he could possibly write.

That’s it, nope, Jisung isn’t going to embarrass himself. He’s had it with this exam, this professor for being such an asshole to him, and with this entire life.

Because why the hell was this professor purposely targeting Jisung?

The moment he entered the class and wanted to follow Chan and Changbin to the back, the professor stopped him and pointed him to the first row. Like this couldn’t have gone any worse.

It’s basically his motto in life at this point; when you think things can’t get any worse, they will.

What could’ve been worse than sitting in the front row and next to Sunghoon? His life is a whole comedy show. Jisung really has to start fighting back, telling the universe what a bitch it’s been to him, actually, he’ll start now, by getting up from this cursed chair—

“Sit back down, Jisung. I know you’re not done.” The professor orders sternly and Jisung can’t help but oblige when he sees everyone’s eyes turning to him.

“But—“

“Write down whatever you know. I’m not taking no for an answer. You have to know something.”

Jisung rolls his eyes as he sighs, returning to that godforsaken paper.

“Is there a problem?” The tone is offended and Jisung has to bite back his tongue from yelling that there is, indeed, a fucking problem with everything lately.

“No, professor.”

His gaze narrows on Jisung for a moment, before saying,

“Very well, then. You may keep writing.”

As he keeps rereading the questions over and over again, thinking of an answer that might actually fit, Jisung realises he might actually not fail this exam. Maybe he has a chance. He’s pretty sure he’s got at least five questions right.

When the professor hurries to the back, scolding someone, he feels a nudge in his ribs. Jisung hisses silently as he turns to Sunghoon who’s nodding at something.

Jisung follows his gaze until he sees a torn piece of paper that’s saying I’m really sorry for everything.

As Jisung leans in to be able to read it, eyes narrowing as he feels something akin to lightness in his chest, he sees Sunghoon raise his hand.

“Professor, Jisung is cheating off my paper.”

What?

Jisung feels his blood boil in his ears, in disbelief of what just happened, shock and dread tingling all over until numbness engulfs him.

“Jisung? You know what this means.” The professor speaks right next to him, placing his hand on Jisung’s paper as he’s frozen in place, unable to react at all.

Irritation grows into fury, feeling it seep in his pores and filling him up with rage all the way to the core.

“Detention.”

He’d been sulking, resting his forehead against the table as he refused to look or even talk to anyone for the past twenty minutes. He'd rather drown in his misery than acknowledge someone whose day was going way better than his own.

Because not only he had to get up and give his exam to the professor while he barely had a few questions answered, but he also had to spend not two, but four hours in detention today. Four fucking hours. That shit’s inhumane.

Jisung hears Minho clearing his throat, “Forgive me since I’m not exactly a Jisung expert, but you don’t look really well.” 

Jisung laughs dryly, his entire body shaking with the faux emotion as he drags his face off the table and gazes at Minho. “No shit.”

Minho raises his eyebrows as he places his hands on the table, a small smile on his face. “Tell me what troubles you.”

Jisung groans letting his head fall back on the table, “That fucking asshole. He told the professor I was cheating, when I fucking wasn’t.” He gets back up, his entire body moving with agitation, “Can you believe the nerve of that guy?” 

It might be the exaggerated hand throwing around the air that causes Minho to chuckle lowly, before he murmurs, “He kicked you out of the exam?”

“Yeah, and for that? ‘Cause I rejected him for being a jerk? Not my fault.”

Minho throws his head back laughing, seemingly amused of Jisung’s situation. “Hey!” He grumbles upset.

The eldest shakes his head, “Sorry, you’re just too cute.”

Jisung scoffs. “Whatever.”

He notices the way Minho stares at him silently for a few minutes, his expression neutral as it betrays nothing, but there’s a depth in there that Jisung just can’t pinpoint. Then, he sighs, leaning over the table.

“I know where the professors keep their exam papers.” He whispers and Jisung’s eyes widen with interest.

“Really?”

Minho nods, his intense gaze unwavering. “I can help you finish your exam. We just need to wait a bit.”

Jisung feels his entire demeanor change, all the misery fading into oblivion as relief washes over him. “You’d do that for me?”

Minho shrugs amused, “Hey, I’m the only one allowed to mess with you.”

The way he stretches his hands out on the table and wraps them around Jisung’s sends his heart into a frenzy, warm fuzzy feelings short circuiting his brain. Despite that, he tries to shake them off.

“How romantic.”

He can’t stop staring at Minho’s hands around his.

“Thanks.” Minho sends him a sly smile.

Jisung might just melt.

So he waits for Minho to tell when the time is right for them to strike.

When Minho signals Jisung that the coast is clear, he instantly hurries from the chair —and he won’t mention the stumbling and almost falling over with it. He’s been grateful that Minho was nice enough to at least let him use his phone today, since he saw he was in such a distressed mood.

“Won’t you get in trouble for this?” Jisung whispers the moment he glues to Minho’s side, trying not to shudder at the sensation.

They both peak their heads out from the library, with Jisung’s hold on his backpack tightening with worry.

He feels worried that Minho is risking a punishment and a good scolding for getting Jisung out of detention earlier.

Minho glances back at him as he opens the door for Jisung, “We’ll be in detention together?” He sends him a sheepish smile.

Jisung gasps as he lightly slaps his arm and follows him. “Minho! You can’t get in trouble for me!”

Minho laughs softly as he shakes his head, padding down the hallway. “It’s nothing, Jisungie. It would be real trouble if we get caught modifying your exam paper.”

Jisung freezes. “What?”

Minho fixes him with his gaze. “We won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I know a lot of things.”

“Minho!”

“Shh, follow me.”

Minho seems to know his way around the college buildings quite well. Maybe doing these extra curricular activities have their perks, besides the gpa raise. Minho knows all the inside stuff from the professors and where they keep everything. Jisung should take notes.

“Okay, here. You go first and I keep watch.” He leads Jisung to an annex, opening the door and hurrying him in.

“But—“ Jisung turns around, his hand accidentally falling on Minho’s.

His gaze unintentionally lands on the contact, feeling a knot in his throat as more butterflies awaken at the feeling.

“Go, Jisungie. I’ll be right behind you.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

The way his name rolls off Minho’s tongue is so fucking hot and crazy and so many things that Jisung can’t even name. He’s driving him insane.

And Jisung listens. Of course he listens. Because it’s Minho. And Minho makes him wanna do things that he normally shouldn’t. He’s just that influential and powerful. Jisung doesn’t quite understand why that is and how he allowed it to happen, he just knows Minho’s got complete control over him. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

He simply nods as he enters the room, his gaze wandering around wildly at the new surroundings before he finds a bunch of paper stacks that can only indicate they’re exam papers.

Jisung feels his heart beating in his throat, feeling every pump in his veins echo in his ears. All the blood reaches his head as emotions overwhelm him, guilt, panic, fear of being caught. But somehow, doing this with Minho feels exciting. And exhilarating.

His hands are trembling as they desperately flip through the papers, his breathing erratic and he swears he feels a sweat drop on his forehead. Fuck, is he sweating? He probably is. He’s so stressed and panicked about this.

“Minho, I—“ His voice is strained as he turns to Minho who just entered and locked the door behind him.

“It’ll be okay, Jisungie. Don’t worry.”

He gulps down the stress ball that’s suffocating him as he hesitantly turns back towards the papers, finally finding his own in between the enormous stack.

He almost backed out on this, he almost let himself fail this fuckass paper, but Minho encouraged him, had his back.

Yep, Jisung is most definitely screwed.

Jisung pulls out his phone as he hurriedly searches for the answers, his hand trembling violently while doing so. His breathing is hard, eyes flickering from paper to phone, words and words stumbling over each other as he tries to write the answers as quick and possible and finally be done with this.

Suddenly, he feels Minho’s presence next to him, the familiar burning sensation sending Jisung’s thoughts spiraling. His panic also grows, because Minho should be keeping watch.

Instead, he sees Minho look through the papers as well, and as curious as Jisung is about what he could possibly be looking for, he has to focus on finishing his own exam.

He sees the way that sly, evil smirk takes its rightful place on Minho’s features when he pulls out a certain paper from the multitude. Jisung’s breath hitches in his throat as he tries not to pry, but curiosity killed the cat after all.

Minho took out Sunghoon’s paper and the corners of his eyes sharpened with devilry, instantly bringing his pen and scribbling carelessly over his answers. Minho slashed sentences over sentences, not even bothering to make them look like a mistake, as if Sunghoon had changed his mind about the answer, because he’s only going after one thing.

Full sabotage.

There it stands out in all its might, a huge sentence in all uppercase that reads out I’M AN ASSHOLE.

Jisung can’t help the gasp that leaves his mouth, his hand instantly touching his lips as he jumps back. The unpredictability of Minho’s actions have taken him aback.

He sees the way Minho only shrugs with a proud smile, before placing the paper back along with Jisung’s as nothing happened. He turns to the youngest, that mischievous glint dancing in his gaze, before he grabs Jisung’s arm and drags him out of the enclosed space.

“Why did you do that?” Jisung asks in a hushed voice as they walk down the hallway, trying to act totally normal.

Jisung is such a fake idgafer, it’s basically written all over his face that he’s done something bad and he’s guilty. Minho, on the other hand, not so much. He has a proud smirk on his face, a relaxed posture and nonchalance radiates off him.

“Nothing that wasn’t true.”

Jisung hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Minho for the rest of the day. His face, his eyes, his annoyingly attractive smirk, his beautifully carved nose, fuck, just everything, is forever engraved in his brain. He would squirm and bounce his leg restlessly, he wouldn’t stay still for one moment, he would not have one moment of peace in his mind because he’s been constantly thinking about Minho, Minho and just Minho. 

Minho takes over all his thoughts.

Even the next day, he couldn’t concentrate on the lectures, he would zone out whenever Chan talked to him, he would bump into things because he’s unable to think clearly. He’s genuinely obviously extremely fucking screwed.

And Jisung’s heart does that weird thing where it stops beating for a moment whenever Minho’s face pops up in his mind, he gets all warm and fuzzy in his stomach and he feels shudders travel down his spine. It’s really weird. Jisung doesn’t understand.

Worst thing, he can’t stop even when he’s sitting across Minho, bouncing his leg and stressingly eating at his pen as his eyes stay glued to the notes he’s been revising. Or, trying to. He hasn’t been able to concentrate on reading anything because Minho is sitting right in front of him.

Jisung hears Minho hum as he picks a book from the bookshelf, flipping through the pages before turning to Jisung, “Ever read Anna Karenina?”

Jisung avoids him, his eyes still glued to the papers. He’s trying so hard to not make eye contact with him, because he knows he’ll break.

“Not really.”

He hears Minho shuffle around the bookshelf a little more, humming. And fuck, he looks absolutely hot with those glasses on his statuesque nose, painting him in a different kind of sexiness that Jisung isn’t able to explain. When he turns, Jisung flickers his gaze back on his notes.

“Pride and Prejudice?”

“No.” 

“Hmm, Jane Eyre?”

Jisung gulps down the knot forming in his throat as he tries so hard to keep his gaze away from Minho in order to be normal.

“Minho,” His voice is strained as he begins, which catches the eldest’s interest as he rests against the bookshelf, “do I strike you as an individual that reads?”

He laughs softly as he puts the book back where it belongs, “I guess not. Worth a try.”

Jisung opens his mouth as a strong urge fills him. For some reason he feels a desire to talk to Minho, to make a conversation with him, to find out stuff about him. With hesitation, he continues, “Have you?”

“Mhm. I like reading. A lot.” He tells him as he departs from the bookshelf and suddenly he’s next to Jisung. “Helps me keep my mind off things.”

Jisung can swear his heart stopped beating for a moment, feeling like he’s standing next to a sparking flame. He has to force himself to not squirm when he feels Minho hovering over him, suddenly interested in his notes.

When Minho’s sharp cheekbone lightly grazes against Jisung’s, he feels heat bloom under his skin like that of a hot summer day. 

“Well, you must’ve read something.” His voice is low, warm breath fanning against Jisung’s skin as his lips ghost over the surface.

Good fucking dammit. Jisung feels all of his blood shoot down to his crotch, his cock twitching at the sensation. This is a new low, even for him. He can’t possibly get turned on by the simple fact that Minho’s lips barely touch him.

“Certainly not these notes that you’ve been staring at for half an hour.” He sees the way Minho flips over his papers, pressing his palm over them as he restricts Jisung from reaching them.

Jisung’s thighs rub together, shifting as he feels something rabid taking over him, filling his mind with lust. His tent is growing in his pants as his throat closes up.

“Well,” He says breathlessly, laughing dryly, “I did read those Percy Jackson books when I was younger. Oh, and that Coraline one. Were pretty dope from what I remember.” 

He can’t help but shiver when he feels Minho’s hot breath slap his skin as he chuckles, pressing his fingers on Jisung’s chin and forcing his face up until their gazes lock.

“But why won’t you look at me when you talk?” His voice is soft, innocent on the surface, but something devilish in its roots.

The way he tilts his head and tugs his eyebrows in that familiar teasing scowl sends Jisung over the edge.

When he sees that intense gaze pour into him, digging deep as if he’s looking through Jisung’s soul, searching for any sort of emotion, Jisung shifts his face away once more. He lets out a shuddering breath, trembling, as goosebumps arise all over his skin.

His heart is beating like crazy.

“Minho, I uh, thanks for helping me yesterday. Really,” He lets a small smile tug at his lips when he sees Minho take his place across from him, his eyes still glued to the table, “you were great.”

Minho quirks an eyebrow, as he places his arms on the table and leans over, getting as close to Jisung as possible. “Yeah? How great?”

It’s that cocky, conceited, teasing tone in his voice again, but weirdly enough, Jisung doesn’t feel annoyed by it. Not one bit. This isn’t normal. This shouldn’t be normal. Jisung should be annoyed with his attitude. But he simply isn’t.

“Really great.” He whispers, feeling his voice so small as if it’s just a fragment of his imagination.

Minho’s lips tug into a soft smile, his gaze unwavering from Jisung’s extremely shy silhouette. “In that case, you can show me how thankful you are by looking at me.”

Jisung’s breath hitches in his throat at the words, but he does as told.

With a slow raise of his head, his eyes lock with Minho’s. Again. But this time it’s different, stronger. It drives Jisung insane.

That’s why he never ever wanted to make eye contact with Minho again.

He wants to fuck him. Bad.

Jisung has been struggling to walk in a straight line when he was heading back to the frat house, his breathing erratic and his eyes crazy. He might’ve started sweating somewhere along the way. He doesn’t care, he just wants his bed. And music. Fuck, maybe his guitar will help alienate whatever crazy feelings he’s experiencing.

When he enters the building, he sees Chan lounging on the couch —alone?— and he doesn’t pay him any mind. Chan sees Jisung and shifts his position instantly.

“Hey Jisung, there’s—“

He gets interrupted by Jisung storming off upstairs as he’s headed straight to his room.

Chan stares at nothing for a few moments, before he shrugs, “Weird.”

Jisung slams his door shut, letting his backpack fall with a thud before he glues himself to the door and slides down, sighing. His eyes are clenched with a scowl as he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t realise he was holding.

“Hey, Sung.”

Jisung feels his bones jump in his body at the unexpected voice startling him, his eyes snapping towards the perpetrator.

Felix is lying on his bed, a leg raised in the air awkwardly as he’s flipping through some fashion magazines Jisung has been secretly reading. “Didn’t know you were into fashion like this.” He hums and Jisung huffs.

“ ‘m not.” He grumbles as he takes his magazine away from Felix and stuffs it somewhere he’s sure the blonde won’t try to snoop. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Jisung crosses his arms as he narrows his eyes accusatorily.

Felix raises his eyebrows before sending him the biggest grin ever. “What? Can’t I miss my best friend?”

Jisung rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Your building is literally right across from mine.”

“So? That’s a ten minute walk. It’s a very long time away from you.” Felix gets up on the bed, flailing his arms.

“Spill.”

Felix sighs as he plops down back on Jisung’s bed, “Okay, so you know mine and Hyunjin’s seven month anniversary is tomorrow.” His voice is steady, as a statement, as if Jisung’s is supposed to know. Whatever. “And I kiiinda need you to get him away from our building, since I’m planning a surprise for him. He’s glued to that place I swear.”

Jisung stares at him, feeling amusement seep in his pores. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you’re doing that romantic, rose petal trail to your bedroom thingy. That would be so—“

As Jisung bursts into laughter, Felix glares at him with a frown, a huge pout on his face.

“Be fucking serious, I would never do that.”

Jisung doubles back in laughter as he grabs onto his desk for support. “You’re totally doing that thing. And for all the dance team to see. I can’t believe it!” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.

Felix scoffs as he throws a pillow at his head, but Jisung is too fast for him. “Fine, whatever. Amongst many others. So, you in or nah?”

When Jisung regains his composure, gasping for breath, he steadies his gaze on Felix. “What’s in it for me?”

The blonde rolls his eyes, “I’m the only one who never once made fun of your after school hobbies.”

Jisung pretends to think for a moment, his lips puckered as he places his index on them. “Hmm, I don’t know. Not very convincing.”

Felix throws his feet annoyed as he lays on the bed, “Come on, Sungie. You’ve known me since fifth grade! Aren’t we best friends?”

Jisung simply shrugs. “I don’t know man, I’ve known Jeongin since kindergarten so beat that.”

“Fuck you. Fine, I’ll pay for both our breakfasts at the cafeteria for a month. Deal?”

“Okay, I’ll take it.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you love me.”

Jisung is sitting next to Chan and who naturally, sits next to Changbin, the entire football team claiming the last two desks for themselves as Jisung is thankful the professor didn’t force him in the front row again.

He’s finished verifying their exam papers and started handing them to each student, giving each of them advice tips. Then when he takes out a specific one, he stops with a narrowed glare.

“Sunghoon,” His voice booms around the clearing, “I’m disappointed in you. You didn’t even try.”

Jisung feels himself shrink at the accusation, almost hiding under the desk when he feels guilt gnaw at him.

“What?” Sunghoon’s offended voice rings and Jisung clenches his eyes shut as he breathes heavily.

While the professor is busy reprimanding him, Jisung hears his two best friends talking with each other in hushed whispers.

“Weird.” Changbin starts and Chan agrees, “Sunghoon’s never done something like that before.”

While Changbin continues telling Chan how strange he finds the situation, he sees the eldest glance at him, the edges of his eyes sharpening with interest.

“Yeah, really weird.” 

Jisung hears the tone in his voice, causing his heart to pick up its pace in his stomach, but thankfully Chan doesn’t push it. He figured it out by himself that Jisung had something to do with it.

He looks at his own exam paper again, seeing the perfect grade on it as his gaze flickers over all the words. Jisung feels immense guilt drowning him, but he can’t say anything. 

When the lecture ends, he picks up his things and hurries towards the door without waiting for his friends. He feels an angry hand wrap around his arm and pull him back when he’s about to leave through the door.

Jisung’s nervous gaze locks with Sunghoon’s angry one, seeing absolute rage dance in it.

“Did you do this?” His voice is accusatory and Jisung felt himself flinch at the volume.

He’s so incredibly sure he started sweating, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he licks his lips to come up with something. Instead, he sees Chan press his hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder and push him away.

“Leave him alone.”

He sees the angry expression on his face when Chan dismisses him, but he’s quickly pushed out of the lecture room.

“Chan, I—“

As soon as Jisung starts, he gets interrupted by Chan. He places a comforting hand around his shoulders and squeezes.

“Even if you did it, he absolutely deserved it.”

Jisung stares at him with a sigh, feeling his chest still tight, but Chan’s expression is serene. He doesn’t look upset or mad at him, which is good.

He turns his gaze away, “I might’ve had a hand in that. But it’s not entirely my fault, so.”

Chan laughs softly as he presses his head into Jisung’s, nuzzling it. “It was funny seeing him so mad. Don’t worry about it.”

Jisung nods mindlessly, his brain still overthinking everything, before another reminder pops up and makes his heart drop to his stomach. Fuck, he said he’d help Felix today.

“I have to go.”

Chan’s hand digs in Jisung’s shoulder, a certain sternness in the gesture that stills Jisung. He raises an eyebrow as he silently questions the youngest.

“I promised Felix I’ll help with something.”

Chan presses his teeth in the cushion of his bottom lip as he asks, “Is that why he snuck into your room yesterday?”

Jisung glances at him as he begins departing, “Yeah, see you later!”

He starts leaving but then he remembers something extremely important. When Jisung turns around, he points towards Chan, “Today we’re watching Totoro, you promised!”

Chan laughs as he waves him off, “You’re buying the snacks.”

“You picked the movie, you should buy the snacks!” Jisung yells back as he keeps stretching the distance, walking backwards with eyes fixed on Chan.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Chan shrugs, shaking his head.

Changbin appears in the picture, looking confused as he places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Yes, it does!”

Chan presses a hand to the bridge of his nose, before he agrees.

“Fine!”

Soon he starts heading towards the dance building —they have dorms and dance studios integrated all in one, isn’t that crazy? Jisung wishes the football frathouse had a football field instead of that cursed living room where too many things happened. Things he doesn’t want to remember.

And just as expected, he receives a message from Felix.

Blondie [13:56 PM]:

hey 

are u on the way

pls tell me u r

hyunjin won’t stop asking me why i’m acting weird 

Jisung [13:57 PM]:

ya im coming

where should i take him

Blondie [13:58 PM]:

ANYWHERE

pls just take him away from the building 

he WONT budge

Jisung [13:58 PM]:

ok ok lmao

i just arrived

Blondie [13:59 PM]:

thanks 

i owe u one

Jisung is laughing at his phone with a shake of his head when he enters the dance building. He put Felix as ‘Blondie’ in his contact list as a joke the moment he bleached his hair and it still stuck, through all his hair colour phases. Jisung always told him he’s a natural blonde and seeing how shy and cute Felix gets when he tells him that makes his heart twist.

He hears shuffling in the kitchen, which piques his interest because maybe it’s Hyunjin —which would be favourable— or someone that could lead him to Hyunjin. With that, he pads towards it hopefully, already preparing what he should say in his mind and plastering on that faux smile on his face so he’ll come off as friendly.

Instead, he’s met with a familiar sight of silver hair, that Jisung wouldn’t be able to mistake even if he tried. Because, even before seeing the face, Jisung knows exactly who it is.

And his heart seems to catch on quicker than his brain, the violent thrumming in his chest evident.

“Minho?” His voice gains life without his approval.

Jisung stills in the doorframe, frozen, eyes wide and curious as they trail on a very Minho-esque silhouette that’s pouring down his throat a bottle of water.

He sees the way Minho’s body shifts in his direction, almost instinctually, eyes rounding and eyebrows raising in the same way Jisung has secretly started adoring.

Jisung feels his breath get knocked out his chest as he stumbles back, “What— what are you doing here?”

Minho’s soft features turn sly, the usual mischief painted on his face as he puts the empty water bottle down on the counter.

“Hello? Dance practice clothes?” He tugs at his outfit, before pointing to some huge pictures in the living room, “Pictures of me and the dance team?”

What a real comedian he is, using Jisung’s own words against him. Smart, really really smart. And a nice parallel.

Of course he’s a fucking dancer.

That’s right. Jisung realised he doesn’t know anything about Minho. He didn’t even know what team he’s on and what his degree was. To be fair, he was too busy fantasising about all the ways Lee Minho would fuck him and all the sounds he’d elicit out of Jisung.

Speaking of, his chest tightens and his tongue nervously licks over his bottom lip as he tries to keep his eyes away from Minho’s face and on his body. And fuck, is that a big mistake? With the way sweat covers Minho’s entire frame, glueing his white t-shirt against his incredibly broad, structured body, makes Jisung dizzy.

Jisung soon realises there’s no way of winning with Minho, because wherever he looks, he still has a strong urge to get fucked by him. Bad.

He wants him so fucking bad he doesn’t think it’s normal. Jisung has been thinking about Minho an unhealthy amount. And he knows it’s been too much, even for him.

He already dreamt about all the ways Minho would fuck him and all the names he’d call him, would he be soft, rough, nice, mean—

“Jisung? You okay?”

His soft airy voice breaks him out of his reverie, and Jisung has to force himself to stand because he swears he felt his knees unbuckle. He shakes his head and laughs awkwardly.

“I just— I just didn’t know you danced. That’s all.” 

But despite that, he still doesn’t move. And he makes the huge mistake of letting his gaze fall on Minho’s incredibly thick and delicious looking thighs. He’s never looked at his thighs before, given that he was too busy staring at his face, and so he never realised how beautiful they are. And he can only imagine what they’d look wrapped around his head.

Before Minho has the chance to add something that would definitely embarrass Jisung, knowing him, with all the smirks and raised eyebrows he’s been throwing, Jisung takes the lead in conversation before it loses control.

“So, uh, do you know where Hyunjin is? I have this thing with him and I can’t find him anywhere.” He begins rolling on his heels awkwardly.

Minho hums, his eyes still narrowed curiously on him, before shrugging and getting back at whatever he was doing. 

“Really? He doesn’t get out of the dance studio, Jisung. I doubt you’ve been looking for him for a long time, seeing as you’ve been staring at my thighs for the past five minutes.”

Now Jisung really wants to jump off. He feels a blush creep up on his cheeks at the same time Minho lets a devious smirk all over his face.

“What? You’re deluded. I would never—“

“Come, I’ll show you to him. I was just getting back anyway.” Minho grabs his arm and yanks him after him, making Jisung forget whatever it was he was saying.

Fuck him and calling Jisung out like that. So what if he was staring at his thighs? He knows how to appreciate beautiful things. That is not a crime.

Yet, he still couldn’t stop looking at the way Minho’s muscles bulged when his arm flexed as he took a swift turn, or how broad his chest looked from his side profile. Or fuck, he should really stop staring at those thighs.

“Hyunjin, there’s Jisung looking for you.” Minho announces as soon as Jisung gets pushed into a huge mirrored room that definitely looks like a dance studio.

Now he’s really jealous. This room looks insane.

Jisung sees Hyunjin stop the music as soon as they enter, pushing back the wet hair from his face as sweat drips down on him. He breathes heavily as he greets the two, his eyes instantly landing on Jisung.

“Hey Jisung, what’s up?”

Jisung glances between him and Minho for a moment, before the silver haired lets go and pads towards the middle of the room, leaving the two at it. Jisung then sighs as he stares at Hyunjin with huge eyes.

Now what? He didn’t think things through. Felix just told him to get Hyunjin away and Jisung doesn’t have a clue about how he should proceed.

“You know, there’s a really good pain au chocolat in the cafeteria and I’ve been dying to go with you and taste it.” 

There’s an obvious strain and awkward tone in his voice, because Hyunjin narrows his eyes as he crosses his arms.

“We already did that two weeks ago.” He sounds deeply unconvinced and Jisung isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

He’ll drag Hyunjin to the cafeteria if he has to.

Jisung’s entire face lights up as he opens his mouth, letting it hang for a few moments as he tries to come up with something. “Oh uhm, they changed the recipe. I reallyyy want to try it.”

“What? Already? Are you sure?”

Jisung nods vigorously.

“Why don’t you take Felix with you? He’s a big fan of chocolate.” Hyunjin is still skeptical.

Why is he fighting this idea so much? Anyone would be joyful at the thought of eating some chocolate stuffed things, right?

Jisung accidentally makes eye contact with Minho who looks at him questioningly, as he tries coming up with a lie. He feels pressured with his presence in the room, tangling his thoughts.

“Well, I wanted to go with you. Thought maybe you’ll change your mind about it.”

Hyunjin turns to Minho who only shrugs, before he looks at Jisung again as he sighs. “Okay, let me just shower first.”

He departs as he ruffles Jisung’s hair when he passes by, causing him to groan and amuse Hyunjin.

He lets himself sigh with relief as he rests against the doorframe, still trying to refrain from even glancing in Minho’s direction. He looks absolutely ravishing, all sweaty with his bare thighs just basically begging Jisung to sink his teeth in them.

“Really? Pain au chocolat?” He hears Minho snort and Jisung only rolls his eyes.

“It’s really good. You wouldn’t know.”

Minho raises his eyebrows, but keeps quiet, letting Jisung overwork himself with sentences.

“Since I’m not going with you. That’s all.” He sticks out his tongue and storms off.

He had to get out of that room as soon as possible because Minho’s intense gaze on him was burning him up from the core, twisting things in his stomach and driving him crazy. It’s not long before Jisung breaks. 

Jisung has been stalling Hyunjin for thirty minutes as he pretended to be undecided about what he actually wanted to order, saying something and then quickly changing his mind which made Hyunjin groan and tell him he’ll just buy everything Jisung wants just so he’ll finally settle down.

And that’s how Jisung ended up with a pain du chocolat, blueberry cheesecake and a lava cake. Isn’t Hyunjin a doll? 

Jisung stares at him while Hyunjin hesitantly takes small bites out of the pain du chocolat, his features twisting in thought.

“Are you sure it’s not the same one? I can’t feel any difference.” He tilts his head and Jisung has to feign a groan.

“Of course it’s not, Hyunjin! Can’t you tell?”

“No?” He shrugs as he goes back to eating and Jisung has to dramatise a little bit more to be convincing.

“I’m glad you came with me, I’ve been dying to taste it. You’re the best!”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Hey,” Hyunjin says and his tone catches Jisung’s attention, “Felix’s been acting weird today for some reason. I kept trying to talk to him and get him alone for a while, since it’s our anniversary today, and he keeps shrugging me off. I just don’t get it.”

Jisung stares at him blankly. “Huh. That’s weird, you know how clingy and lovey dovey he always is.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen as he continues with his mouth stuffed, his dimples popping out, “Exactly! Do you know something? I mean, did he tell you anything? He keeps avoiding me.”

Jisung gulps as he briefly glances at his phone, hoping that Felix is finally done with whatever it is he’s doing and he’ll spare Jisung from lying. He’s a bad liar, terrible even, and he doesn’t know how long he has until he breaks and spoils the surprise.

“No, no, nothing at all.” Jisung forces a smile and Hyunjin frowns.

“Maybe I should text him again—“

“No!” Jisung interrupts and Hyunjin jumps startled.

Then he sees how worried Hyunjin looks, so he coughs awkwardly as he tries to speak normally. “I mean, maybe he’s busy or… something.”

Hyunjin’s face saddens and Jisung is so fucking sure he’s in hell because he looks like an absolute kicked puppy and his heart hurts so much to see him like this.

“He always replies to my texts. Do you think he’s mad at me?”

Now Jisung feels his heart drop. Felix loves Hyunjin very much, how can he even think for a second he would keep him in the dark if he was mad at him?

“Of course not. You know he’d never do that.”

“But then why—“

At the same time Jisung receives a notification, causing Hyunjin’s eyes to land on the screen, but he’s quick to take the phone in his hands and hide it away from him.

Blondie [14:46 PM]:

ok

im done

ur free

thanks for all the help jisungie 

really

ILYSM <33

Jisung [14:47 PM]:

u should reply to him

he thinks ur mad at him or smth

Blondie [14:47 PM]:

on it 

At the same time, he sees Hyunjin’s face light up instantly when he picks up his own phone, a bright smile painting his soft features.

“Jisung, I have to go. Sorry for leaving just—“

Jisung sends him a warm smile, nodding gently. “Go.”

Hyunjin begins hurrying towards the exit, but stops abruptly in his tracks as he turns to Jisung. “Thanks for hanging out with me today. Really needed the break.”

“Same goes for me.” Jisung mutters, knowing damn well he really needed a goddamn break from everything.

Because he knows he’ll have to head off to the library in a few hours and feel his ass become numb from the stillness.

And he’ll have to see Minho again. Fucking hell, he doesn’t know how he’s going to survive him today too. Especially after he’s seen how hot he looks drenched in sweat. And how beautiful his thighs look in shorts.

Jisung is most definitely in hell.

That evening he goes straight to his bedroom, ignoring his fratmates playing party games —on a Thursday night? He hears Chan call out his name, the others all joining in before groaning when Jisung doesn’t even as much as spare a glance in their direction.

“What’s the matter with him lately?” A voice starts.

“Yeah, he would never turn this down.” Another chimes in.

Chan stares at the lingering steps on the stairs, still stuck on Jisung’s silhouette being there just moments ago as he furrows his eyebrows worried.

“I really don’t know.” He says.

Jisung lands directly in his bed, exhausted and incredibly fucking horny.

Horny because he had to stare at Minho for two hours and he couldn’t get his filthy thoughts out of his brain about how he wants him reallyyy bad.

So, he does what he knows best, knowing that will send him off to a very nice goodnight sleep. He’s going to accept Minho’s Instagram following request and follow him back in his turn. And naturally, Jisung can only masturbate at the thought of how beautiful Minho looks, stalking his pictures and fantasising everything he could put his mind to.

Minho sent him a request the second day since they met and Jisung’s initial hatred for him refrained him from accepting it right away. He waited, figuring it’ll come in handy one day. 

Knowing how the universe had a thing for making him miserable, Jisung avoided accepting Minho’s following request at all costs. Who knows how his bad boy reputation will skyrocket when a certain innocent library boy finally gets his hands on him?

Because Minho is everything he pretends not to be, and Jisung, bless his pure soul, is nothing like what rumours have been spilling about him.

Minho is the devil. Straight up.

And Jisung is someone that willingly walked in his trap.

A knock at the door makes Jisung jump when he comes out of the shower, already preparing for bed and calling it a day. He wasn’t in the mood for anymore socialising, but it seems like his fratmates didn’t get the memo.

“Hey,” Chan’s familiar voice sounds when he slightly opens the door, “can I come in?”

Jisung sighs as he plops down in his bed. “Sure, why not?”

It’s not like he put a sock on the doorknob that’s basically a ‘do not disturb’ sign in all caps and underlined with red.

“Are you okay? You’ve been floating away lately.” His worried voice irritates Jisung.

On a normal day, Jisung would be glad to have Chan looking out for him. But right now, he just wants to sleep and doesn’t want anyone to bug him with questions about his behaviour. Why do you act that way? Why are you avoiding us? Where were you? Stuff like that. He hears it every once in a while when he starts distancing himself from everyone.

“What do you mean?” Jisung plays dumb.

He knows exactly what he means. Except Chan doesn’t know about the dilemma Jisung has been fighting for the past week.

“I don’t know, you just seem… distant.” Chan stands in the doorway, hesitant to come further and Jisung snuggles under the blanket.

“Distant? No, I’m completely fine.”

Chan shoots him an unimpressed look. “You passed by us as if we didn’t even exist. You’d never do that.”

Jisung simply shrugs, being fed up with all these accusations. “Sorry, I was tired. And didn’t feel like playing anything.”

“You didn’t have to play. You could’ve just said ‘hi’ and went to bed. I was actually debating if I should come and talk to you.”

Jisung shoots him a glare as he turns around in bed and stuffs his face in his pillow, basically telling Chan he’s not interested in this conversation. “Well, now you did. You saw that I’m fine, you can go on with your evening.”

“Jisung.” Chan tries again disappointedly, somehow needing to talk to Jisung. Desperately.

“Chan, really, I’m fine. And I’m tired. Really fucking tired. I just need to sleep it off and I’ll be as new tomorrow.”

He hears Chan sigh disapprovingly. “Fine, but if there was something you’re struggling with, you’d tell me. Right?”

Jisung knows how much Chan cares about him and knows about all the times Jisung has disappeared when he wasn’t feeling himself. He can’t really blame him for worrying.

“Of course, you know I will.”

Chan inhales deeply as he turns to leave, “Okay, goodnight Sung.”

“Goodnight Channie hyung.”

The following day, after a lot of zoning out between lectures and scribbling embarrassing stuff on his notebook, cussing out Chan when he took a peek at his secretive doodles, Jisung feels his heart beating faster than ever as anticipation swirls around him.

He’s been going on in his head about how he should bring his thoughts to life. How does one bring it up to a stranger —an acquaintance?— that he wants to fuck?

Like, Minho already mentioned it as soon as they met, but Jisung figured out it was probably just to mess with him, fluster him, or just fill out his immense ego. Either way, Jisung wants to fuck Minho. And he wants it soon.

Should he be bold, shameless? Or should he have a little bit of class and try to be more subtle? In the end, it’ll have the same effect. Minho can either refuse or accept.

Although, Jisung is skeptical of Minho refusing seeing as this morning he woke up with a dm to one of the corny thirst traps he posted a few weeks ago, which read out ‘shameless’.

Huh, who is Minho calling shameless out of everyone? He’s the one who came up to Jisung and asked him to fuck.

Jisung ignored his text, leaving him on a torturous seen, only because that only did worse things to him, and tried to get on with his day.

Key word: tried.

Truth is, he couldn’t get Minho out of his head all day. So now, the time for detention is knocking at the door and Jisung only has one thing left on his bucket list to cross. Which is, to fuck Minho.

He’s going to ask him, not stutter and blush, be bold and confident, let Minho know how much he wants him and—

“You good? You look like you’re malfunctioning.” Minho’s amused voice breaks him out of his reverie and shakes him back to reality.

Jisung’s heart is beating incredibly fast, his eyes blinking continuously and his mouth closing and opening as he’s been trying to think of the right thing to say. He feels so hot under his clothes, like he’s suffocating, like he’s sweating excessively, he should probably open a window—

“Jisung.” Minho’s stern tone grounds him again.

“Wha— I’m good. Of course I’m good. Why wouldn’t I be? There’s nothing—“

“You’re rambling.” Minho focuses him with his gaze and Jisung shuts his mouth closed. 

Jisung starts playing with his hands, unable to think of what else he should do. He hears Minho’s voice rise again, “Good song you released today. I really liked it.”

He feels breathless at the praise, totally taken aback. And he completely forgot that the new 3RACHA song, his crew’s, was coming out today. He’s been so out of the loop lately.

“Thanks.”

“Really filthy lyrics. One would never guess you’re the one actually writing them.”

Jisung’s still being weird about all of this. “I guess.”

There must be an obvious change in his behaviour. Anyone can notice it. Even Minho. No matter how busy he is at the moment.

Minho places the pen down and drifts his attention from the papers he’s been correcting, to Jisung. He leans in and tilts his head. “What’s the matter?”

Jisung searches his gaze; no teasing, no mischief, no hidden tricks up his sleeve. Good.

“Actually, um,” 

Minho’s gaze intensifies and Jisung feels like backing down now. But he can’t, his will and desire to get fucked is stronger.

“I have a question.”

Minho looks amused as he leans back.

“Shoot.”

Jisung laughs awkwardly as he begins squirming under his watchful eyes, his gaze flickering away as he tries not to overthink it. It’s just a hook up, nothing more. People do this all the time.

“So you know, uh, when we meet, you said that— erm, and I was like— you wanted to, but I didn’t,” Jisung clenches his eyes shut with embarrassment. He can’t say one thing right.

“Fuck, what I wanna ask is,” He gulps down dryly as he curses out his hesitance.

Minho only watches curiously, silent as he beckons Jisung to go on.

“Do you wanna have sex?”

He doesn’t miss the way Minho’s lips tug upwards, despite the surprise in his eyes as his entire mood seems to change.

“So I’m really that irresistible, huh? Knew you’d change your mind.”

Jisung places his face in his hands and groans, “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be. You don’t know how much of my ego I had to stomp to ask you this.”

Minho hums as he can’t shake off the happy grin off his face, so sly and all knowing, arrogant, conceited, proud, fuck him and his pride.

“Okay.”

Jisung’s head shoots up, his eyes widening with hope as he prays there’s no jokes this time, “Really?”

“Sure.”

Oh my god. I’m fucking Lee Minho.

“I mean you’re pretty hot, and really fucking cute. So why not?”

Jisung feels his chest ease as he lets out a sigh of relief, keeping his gaze anywhere but on Minho.

He can’t believe after a week of torture, of forcing himself to shake off these thoughts, he’s finally given in to his urges.

“There’s one thing.”

Ding ding. Of course there is. Jisung can’t ever hope for something too much.

Minho doesn’t seem to wait for a response from Jisung, his facial expression all serious, as he continues.

“This is a one time thing.”

Duh, Jisung rolls his eyes. Not like he expects anything else. One time is enough. More than enough, even.

“Works for me.”

Minho’s eyes narrow. “So, no getting attached. Got it? I don’t do this relationship thing.”

Jisung nods, “Okay.”

“And no kissing, no pet names, nothing. We will hook up once and that’s it.”

Jisung has to refrain from groaning, understanding this already. It’s not like he was planning on calling Minho ‘baby’ or some shit. That would be embarrassing.

Like, imagine him, Jisung, calling Minho ‘baby’ when not even that long ago he was referring to him as ‘asshole’.

“I get it Minho. It’ll be like I don’t even know you.”

“Good.”

“Good.” Jisung enhances.

Now, Minho’s features are back to being smiley as he leans back on his chair, propping his feet on the table and crossing his arms in his lap.

“When do you want to?” He asks and Jisung instantly comes up with a time and place.

“Tomorrow we’re hosting a frat party. We can do it then.”

He sees how Minho’s lips stretch into a shit eating grin, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Tomorrow it is.”