[ tangled ] nomin

tangled

"Jeno's on fire!"

"What! Where?" 

"It's an expression, Jaem."

"Express all you want, dammit! Where is the fire?"

Mark whacked him with the garnet foam finger he bought for three dollars at the entrance, knocking the yellow shades off Jaemin's face. They clattered to the ground next to a boy covered in obnoxious facepaint and cracked under the weight of his heavy foot. Curse Mark for choosing the seats next to the jocks, Jaemin thought, staring sadly at his glasses carcass. 

"That's his fifth three-pointer of the game. One more and he beats his high school record."

Jaemin watched Jeno fly across the court, shoes squeaking on the waxed linoleum. Number 12, his jersey read in big letters, right beneath his last name, Lee. It was obvious to everybody on the court and in the stands that Jeno was a force to be reckoned with. He wasn't the tallest player, that spot was reserved for a 6'4 boy with neon green twists, but he had a brute force about him. The red jersey clinging to his body left little for the imagination, and there was a lot to imagine. Jaemin sat through countless facetime videos watching Jeno lift weights in the school's gymnasium,  but nothing compared to seeing Jeno's arms under the lights, covered in a thin layer of sweat that made his biceps glisten. 

Jaemin was proud of the #12 jersey on his back and didn't hesitate to flaunt it to the jealous people watching him scream vulgar things at his boyfriend. In Mark's defense, he did try to muzzle Jaemin with the styrofoam finger and a bag of popcorn, but Jaemin shouted around the kernels in his teeth. 

"Get up, you lazy ass," Mark scolded him an hour and forty-five minutes into the game. Jaemin's legs were jelly, and he was still mourning the loss of his dollar-store party glasses. He gave up on being Jeno's personal cheerleader twenty minutes ago, but Mark was a resilient fucker, standing on the bleachers and jumping like he got possessed by a damn kangaroo. Jaemin preferred the finer things in life, like comfy folding chairs and plush cushions. 

Mark rolled his eyes, and Jaemin flicked him off. "Fine. At least take my card and go get food if you're gonna sit here and be a bum." Jaemin plucked the shiny black card from Mark's awaiting hand and happily navigated through the annoyed patrons towards the food stands. Now, Jaemin was notorious for being nosey, and it got him in trouble more often than not, so when he heard Jeno's name from the lips of a boy standing near the bleachers, he slowed his happy skips. 

"Jeno's sleeping at home tomorrow if you want to come by and say hi. I can introduce you guys," an Asian boy with lavender hair said to his friend. Jeno had been staying with Mark and Jaemin at a hotel nearby to avoid the wrath of his RA and said nothing about going back to the dorms that day. 

The other boy shook his head with a smile. "Oh, yeah? Are you ready to make your move, Junnie?"

Junnie scoffed, landing a solid punch on his friend's arm. "As if. Jeno is way out of my league, like, on an entirely different planet, and I can not handle that humiliation today." 

"Are you sure that he's even single?" Junnie's friend said, and Jaemin crept closer. 

"He told me he's bisexual, but he never mentioned a boyfriend. Plus, I've seen his phone a million times and the background is still a picture of Kobe Bryant. The only person he talks to is some kid named Jaemin."

Junnie's friend raised a brow and leaned further against the wall. "Jaemin with a heart or?"

"No, Jaemin with nothing. I think that Jeno-"

Jaemin didn't want to hear the rest. He made the walk of shame to the food stands, buying an over-priced soggy hotdog and a bag of Mark's favorite sour cream and onion chips before making the trek back to their seats.