CHAEBEOL | minsung

six

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Jisung drafted the message quickly, rushed by the idea of being late to school that morning. 

[06:59] onejisung: your suspension has been lifted prematurely. see you at school.

Nothing more, nothing less. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, and the rest of the morning was a blur as he raced to get to the private car in time to arrive to school just before the bell rang. 

Minho didn't reply, but Jisung also didn't check to see if he had. His first class was History, and Minho wasn't in that class, so he had no reason to cross Jisung's mind. 

And he didn't. Not until the break between first and second period, not until Jisung saw him in the corridors. Minho didn't see him at first. His head was lowered as he unlocked his locker and he was tucked into the locker so as to avoid taking up too much space. 

A couple of students still made a point to shove into him as they passed. Jisung noted this almost proudly. Word of what Minho had done had clearly spread. 

What Minho had done. The words stuck in Jisung's head, rewrote themselves. What Minho is going to do. He tried to shake this away. Jisung was trying his utmost not the think about the night before. Minho's promise, that Jisung could do what he want. That Minho could do what he wanted, too. 

Jisung had spent the night wide awake trying to convince himself that the pleasure that Minho proclaimed to like wasn't what Jisung thought it was. It couldn't be. Minho surely couldn't be that bold, and he surely couldn't have just assumed that Jisung was gay. Well... Maybe that part was a bit more believable. Once again, Jisung cursed himself for his small frame and pretty face. 

That's why Jisung had been late to school; he simply couldn't sleep. And it was all Minho's fault.

Minho seemed irritatingly unaware of the storm he had caused to bluster in Jisung's head. If anything, he looked far too ordinary, streakily dyed dark hair hanging in clouds around an unsuspecting face. 

As Jisung walked past, Minho glanced up. His eyes locked onto the younger's. The expression on his face didn't move a muscle, but he said everything he needed to with those eyes. Jisung felt his mouth go dry. 

Jisung tried to convince himself that this was solely because he'd welled up a mouthful of spit in the back of his throat, which he directed at Minho's feet as he passed him. The ball of spit landed with a sickening splat on Minho's shoe, and Jisung lifted his chin to glance at Minho, even as Jisung kept walking. Too many teachers around for Jisung to carry out his 'one public beating'.

Fuck. Minho had barely reacted. Jisung was only just able to catch the faintest quirk of his mouth begging to curl up into a smile. A smile? Surely fucking not. Jisung felt himself growing angrier. More frustrated. Is this what Minho wanted?

Jisung spent the next few hours ruminating, his bones seeming to stew and soften in the rage that bubbled under his skin. Everyone had noticed. People didn't dare to approach him, the black cloud of anger smoking out around them seeming to be poisonous. 

It was the same at lunch time. For a different reason this time. Groups of other students crowded around him in the football field behind the school. It was usually pretty busy here during the lunch period, mainly because the teachers tended to stay inside, but again - for a different reason this time. 

Just before Jisung stood Minho. He was stood straight, chest not puffed up but also not hunched over or pulled in. Not dominant, not submissive, just confidently Lee Minho. This did nothing but enrage Jisung further.