i'll think of you every step of the way | l.mh x h.js

i. i can't make you love me

jisung is a simple man with a few things that annoyed him. the one thing that he hated most was missing out on sleep. it just so happens that one of his mandatory classes in his major only has one more time slot opening, the 7:00am slot. who in their right mind wants to wake up at the asscrack of dawn just to listen to someone drone on and on about literature? not jisung, that's who. yet here he sits, chilling in his classroom by himself at 6:53 in the damn morning.

he's been sitting in the class since 6:45 because it's the first day and he can't show up late, but he's made prolonged eye contact with his professor three separate times. his leg could break the desk he's sitting in in half with the pressure of his leg that's bouncing relentlessly and his lips are on the verge of bleeding from how harshly he's picked and bitten at them. finally, as if god has looked down upon him and figured he'd been tortured with enough awkward silence to last a life time, people start to trickle in through the door to the classroom. the amount of people walking in, though, is astounding and before he even knows what's happening he finds himself curling in on himself.

why had he procrastinated in picking his classes? if he'd done it when hyunjin had he'd be sitting in that 14:30 (2:30 pm) time slot comfortably. the regret he has still sits heavily in the back of his throat, a constant burning that won't go away. looking around at the slew of people walking in, he pulls his hood over his head and slumps down in his chair.

suddenly some random guy sits down two rows in front of him. he's sat diagonally, just enough for jisung's gay ass to see the curve of his jawline. the boy's got a very defined nose with a mole right on the tip near the left side and pretty, long eyelashes. he's got violet hair and a white sweater that swallows his little hands. jisung thinks that he's got to be the prettiest person he's ever seen hands down.

'yo minho'

the boy turns his head to follow the voice that calls out to him and jisung follows suit, pocketing that name for a later date in case he needs it. when he turns he finds just about the hottest man he's ever laid eyes on.

the man he's just laid his eyes on is like the man he sees in his dreams, or his nightmares, whichever comes first he assumes. the man is wearing skin tight jeans, looking so sinful they could've been painted on. he's wearing a plain black shirt, the front tucked into his jeans and a leather jacket draped across his broad shoulders, covering his arms. he's got combat boots on his feet and a chain choker necklace. silver hoop earrings hang from his ears and black hair that was messy, but looked like it was meant to be, poked out of his beanie.

jisung wanted to be stepped on, so badly, and he whispered said sentiment. he chokes on his own saliva when the man takes off his jacket and drapes it over the back of his chair. the man's arms are so ripped that jisung thinks he could literally snap his neck just with a single arm.

'who could snap your neck? the same guy you wanted to step on you?'

jisung whips his head to the boy right beside him with bright red hair and freckles sprinkled across his face. he shushes the boy profusely, begging him to stop bringing the attention their way. the boy nods, smiling sheepishly and whispers out an apology.

'i'm felix by the way.'

'jisung.'

'so jisung-'

felix lowers his voice.

'who could snap your neck?'

jisung groans and shoves his face between his hands.

'i'm not going to live this down, am i?'

'no. i mean if we stay friends, which i hope we do by the way, then no you won't.'

'amazing-'

'so who is it?'

'ugh. the one over there. buffy the jisung stomper sitting next to that sweet baby angel with sweater paws. the one that looks like a little kitty'

'bro. you want the dude next to minho to curb stomp you?'

'i didn't say curb stomp-'

'oh right, right. you just said he could step on you. and snap your neck-'

the minho boy giggles as the buff man in question looks back at who mentioned him. jisung takes the opportunity to slam his head against the table so that he can't see his face.

'sorry bro, didn't mean to be that loud.'

'nah, it's fine. i did it to myself.'

the lecture, thankfully, starts and he takes notes diligently, hiding his face every time buffy looks at him. he religiously checks the time, praying for the end to come so he can sprint to his next class. only, when the class ends and he is finally given the sweet release from his humiliation, he finds himself being blocked by leather jacket clad arms. he doesn't have to look up to know that he's absolutely, positively, royally fucked.