Punches and Pirouettes |NOMIN|

Chapter 5

The rest of the lunch was tense, filled with forced smiles and small talk that felt like a dance around the elephant in the room. Jaemin's heart felt like it was in a vice, squeezed tight by the unspoken tension between him and Jeno. He was relieved when the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the break.

As they made their way to their next class, Donghyck pulled him aside. "What's going on with you and Jeno?" he whispered, his eyes darting back to where Mark and Vernon were laughing together.

Jaemin sighed, his mind racing. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I can't stop thinking about him."

Donghyck raised an eyebrow. "Jeno? Really?"

Jaemin nodded, his cheeks still flushed from the encounter. "Yeah," he murmured. "There's just something about him."

Donghyck leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know you've got a crush on him," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "But be careful. Jeno's not exactly known for his sunny disposition."

Jaemin nodded, his thoughts racing. He had been so focused on his own feelings for Jeno that he hadn't considered the implications of their growing friendship. "I know," he murmured, his eyes on the retreating back of the boxer. "But I can't help it. He's...complicated."

Donghyck rolled his eyes. "That's one word for it," he said. "But if you're going to go there, you've got to be ready for the drama."

Jaemin nodded, his heart racing at the thought of what might happen next. He had never been one for drama, preferring the solace of the dance studio to the chaos of school gossip. But there was something about Jeno that made him want to take risks, to step out of his comfort zone.

That afternoon, as he was leaving the dance studio, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a message from Renjun, his best friend since childhood.

Jun.ren🦊
You're not going to believe what I just heard

Jaemin felt a twinge of dread. Renjun had a knack for finding out about things before they were ready to be shared. He took a deep breath and called him back. "What's up?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

Renjun's voice was a mix of excitement and concern. "You've got to tell me everything," he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I heard you've been spending time with Jeno, the boxer."

Jaemin felt his stomach drop. "How did you find out?" he asked, his voice tight.

Renjun chuckled, "I have my sources."

Jaemin groaned, leaning against the cool metal of his locker. "What are people saying?"

Renjun's voice was filled with excitement. "That you're hanging out with the school's resident bad boy. And not just any bad boy, the one who can knock out anyone with one punch!"

Jaemin couldn't help but laugh, despite the nerves that twisted in his stomach. "It's not like that," he said, his voice a bit defensive. "We're just...talking."

Renjun's voice grew serious. "Jaem, you know what Jeno's like. He's got a reputation for a reason. You've got to be careful."

Jaemin sighed, his eyes on the floor. "I know," he said, his voice small. "But there's something about him."

Renjun's tone softened. "Look, I just don't want you to get hurt," he said. "You're too good for someone like that."

Jaemin's grip tightened on the phone, his jaw set. "Thanks, but I can handle myself," he said, his voice firm. "Besides, he's not all bad."

Renjun's sigh was audible over the line. "Okay, okay," he said. "But if you need me, I'm here."

Jaemin nodded, though his friend couldn't see it. "Thanks, I know." He hung up the phone, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The thought of Jeno's reputation was a stark reminder of the world outside their quiet bubble of dance and boxing.
The next day was a blur of classes and whispers, each one bringing him closer to the moment when he would see Jeno again. He found himself looking for him in the crowded hallways, his heart skipping a beat every time he caught a glimpse of the boxer's sharp jaw or piercing gaze. But Jeno was cold to everyone else, his eyes passing over them like they were invisible. It was as if Jaemin was the only person who existed in his world.

In the late afternoon, when the shadows grew long and the final bell of the day rang out, Jeno was waiting for him outside the dance studio. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his body spoke volumes. "Hey," he said, his voice low and gruff.

Jaemin's heart stuttered at the sight of him, the memory of their conversation in the canteen still fresh in his mind. "Hi," he replied, his voice a bit shaky.

Jeno's eyes searched his, the coldness from earlier seemingly forgotten. "Can we talk?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

Jaemin nodded, his throat dry with anticipation. They walked in silence, the sun casting long shadows as they made their way to a nearby park. The chill in the air was a stark contrast to the heat that simmered between them.

Jeno's demeanor was a puzzle, a mask of indifference that slipped only when he was with Jaemin. His eyes, usually cold and distant, warmed when they met Jaemin's, revealing a depth of emotion that was both terrifying and exhilarating. It was as if the dancer had become the center of his universe, the only one who could penetrate the boxer's armor.

The walk to the park was tense, each step echoing the unspoken words that hung in the air. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of rain and the promise of a storm to match the tumult in Jeno's heart.

Jeno was a force of nature, his presence commanding attention even when he didn't seek it. His stride was purposeful, his eyes scanning the horizon as if looking for an escape from the chaos of his thoughts. Yet, as they approached the park, something shifted in him. His shoulders relaxed, and his gaze softened when it fell on Jaemin. It was as if the dancer had become his tether to the world, the one person who could bring warmth to the icy fortress he had built around himself.

The park was deserted, the swings swaying lazily in the breeze. Jeno led them to a secluded bench, the chill in the air a stark contrast to the fire that burned in his eyes. He sat down, his movements deliberate and controlled, and gestured for Jaemin to sit beside him. The air between them crackled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

"I don't know what it is about you," Jeno began, his voice a low rumble. "But you're different."

Jaemin's heart skipped a beat, his eyes searching Jeno's for any sign of what he truly meant. The boxer's gaze was intense, his eyes burning with an emotion that seemed to be fighting for dominance over his usual stoicism.

"Different?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. "How?"

Jeno looked away, his jaw clenching as he searched for the right words. "You're...pure," he said finally, his eyes back on Jaemin. "In a world that's all about winning and losing, you're just...dancing."

Jaemin felt a blush creep up his neck, his heart racing at the compliment. "I just do what makes me happy," he murmured, his eyes on the ground.

„I know that you don't like all these illegal stuff and fighting but I have a match on Saturday. Want to come with me"

Jeno's question hung in the air, charged with a double meaning that was not lost on Jaemin. He knew that by accepting, he was not just agreeing to watch a boxing match but was also agreeing to be part of Jeno's world, a world that was as different from his own as night was from day. He took a deep breath, the scent of rain-soaked earth mingling with the musky scent of Jeno's cologne, and made his decision.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll come."

Jeno's eyes lit up, the first genuine smile gracing his face in what felt like an eternity. "Really?"

Jaemin nodded, his pulse quickening at the prospect of being part of Jeno's world, if only for one night. "Yeah, really," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Jeno's smile grew, the coldness that usually shrouded him momentarily lifting. "Great," he said, his eyes lighting up. "It'll be a chance for you to see what I'm really about."