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Jaehyun prides himself on noticing.
In the sense that he has a mind bank, tucked away with little tidbits of his friends and family he’s gathered over his lifetime — their nervous habits, favourite dipping sauces, coffee orders. Things like that.
Like how Leehan loves when you nod along to his marine related tangents, even if you barely understand whatever technical words he’s using. His eyes lighten up, he speaks quickly out of excitement, and he gets more attached to you over time, always tugging at your arm to tell you the newest video or aquarium he found.
Or how Riwoo’s general favourite pastime, besides lounging at home, is dragging someone out to test out a new cafe or eatery. Jaehyun likes to tag along, mainly because he would never say no to an invite to eat. And because Riwoo gets full easily, Jaehyun finishes the rest of his meal, because Riwoo also doesn’t like wasting food.
But the majority of his mind bank has been taken up by one specific person.
Sungho sort of managed to wiggle himself in Jaehyun’s daily routine. Amongst countless hours in the library, running purely on iced americanos, and napping in class, he became another constant. Like a running waterfall, calming and steady.
It wasn’t as if their first encounter was anything extraordinary — it went pretty standard, as most university meetings happen.
Jaehyun’s knee was knocking against the fold-out table at the back of the lecture hall, sitting at one of the few left-handed chairs. His ballpoint pen was spinning in between his fingers as he tried to pay attention to what the lecturer was boring over, but it was chilly outside and the thermostat was set at the exact perfect temperature to lure him into a mild sleepiness at nine in the morning.
A shuffle next to him. “Is anyone sitting here?”
And, well, maybe angels weren’t real, but with the autumn sun hitting the back of the person Jaehyun faces, it sure looked likely.
Sharp but kind eyes stare at him, head tilted to the side in a silent question. His hair was blonde, almost golden like the sun. A scarf wrapped snugly around him, a large black bag slung lazily across one shoulder. One hand already curled around the back of the chair next to Jaehyun — he doesn’t have to ask, but he’s doing it out of respect.
It takes a second for Jaehyun’s eyes to focus. He clears his throat. “No—no. You can sit down.”
“Thank you.” His lips curl up into a small smile as he sets his iced americano down on the desk. “The other left-handed tables I usually sit at are taken.”
Well. A beautiful person sitting next to Jaehyun at his morning lecture is certainly something to break his sleepy daze.
The morning sun is a break from the chill outside, sheets of golden warmth streaked across the lecture hall. The lecturer starts to tune out into a dull buzz, niggling at the back of Jaehyun’s mind, interrupted once in a while by a muffled cough or a pen scratching.
Jaehyun watches as this person carefully takes their items out of their bag, arranging them neatly on the tiny desk next to his drink, little bits of condensation already starting to drip onto the desk.
He takes his scarf off, placing it in his bag which is placed over the back of his chair. Jaehyun is still spinning his pen, the parts he hears scrawled down half-committedly in his notebook.
Meanwhile, the blonde boy writes notes in freakishly good handwriting. He’s attentive. Eyes piercing into the slide on the projector, writing his own little notes in the margin.
When he takes a small break to take a sip from his iced americano, Jaehyun leaps for a chance to talk to him. “How do you even understand what he’s saying?”
The blonde boy’s eyes are wide as he looks up at Jaehyun.
“I don’t really know,” he says, shy. Voice hushed over the drone of the lecturer, but he unconsciously leans into Jaehyun, just the tiniest bit. “I’m always a bit lost. But I just try to understand..”
Jaehyun flashes a grin at him. He’s cute. “Same.”
On their third meeting, Jaehyun learns his name. Park Sungho. He stops unconsciously calling him blonde boy in his head.
He stops keeping count after the sixth or seventh meeting, but his mind bank only grows as his daily schedule slowly morphs itself over the introduction of this new person, a little constant that he unintentionally finds himself waiting for.
Every Monday and Thursday, at exactly 8:53AM, Sungho comes to the lecture hall. He spies Jaehyun first, always at the same spot – sitting all the way on the left, third row from the back – and raises his hand in a lazy wave at him.
He’s always wearing something warm, especially as the weather outside grows more frigid in the mornings. Maybe a soft blue cardigan, or a cream knitted sweater, with a scarf tied securely around his neck. The tip of his nose and ears are always a little red from the weather, and Jahyun finds out one day that it’s because he lives close enough to walk to class and not take the bus, and that Sungho prefers walking either way. “I always run a little cold, but walking is free,” Sungho had offhandedly murmured to him, eyes trained on the lecturer.
He always has an iced americano in his right hand. The ice shakes as he approaches Jaehyun, giving him a little smile and greeting as he slings his shoulder bag across the back of his chair. Sungho takes out a black notebook and pencil case, something simple and white but with a little cat keychain on it, and lines them up on the desk. At this point in time, Jaehyun usually leans towards him and starts talking to him.
It’s always about mundane things. The weather. The workload. How confusing that week’s module is.
Sungho’s little mannerisms as he talks are etched into the walls of Jaehyun’s mind.
When he’s particularly passionate about something, he waves his hands around when talking to make a point. He always hides a giggle behind his hand and curls into himself, because he seems to be shy over his laugh. When Jaehyun pokes fun at him, he gets exasperated and rolls his eyes in faux annoyance, but Jaehyun always notices the little glimmer of light in his eyes, and how they crinkle up at the edges, even when he’s pretending to be sulky at him.
Jaehyun always finds himself leaning forward to take all of him in. Breathing in Sungho’s little mannerisms, his giggles when something silly happens, and how put together he is — he’s the opposite of Jaehyun, but in a way that makes them match well with each other.
He also has a lot more aegyo than Jaehyun would expect, and he finds himself enjoying it way more than he should.
Monday morning. Late autumn. One week after their midterms, when the leaves outside start to become warmer and drier, and the mornings are met with dull skies and frost.
Sungho’s a few minutes late. He has no need to rush into the lecture hall, because he’s technically early, but he does walk slightly faster towards Jaehyun, because Sungho’s a stickler to routines, and in his head, he’s running late.
“Hi.” Sungho’s voice is slightly out of breath, and Jaehyun peers at him interestingly as he goes into his little routine of unpacking his bag and sitting down.
Jaehyun reaches an arm out to poke Sungho’s arm when he finally sits down. “Where’s your coffee, Park Sungho?”
He expects Sungho to groan and put his head in his arms, which is something Taesan would do. Or maybe be like Woonhak, and start whining for the next few minutes, but he does something so unexpected that it makes Jaehyun burst out laughing at him.
Sungho starts to pout at him. His lower lip juts out, something which does something silly and unnatural to Jaehyun, as he aligns his pencil case with his notebook on the little desk. “I slept through my alarm. I think the lack of sleep during midterms finally got to me—”
“What..” Jaehyun chokes out a laugh. “What was that?”
Sungho blinks up at him slowly, peering up from his desk for a split second. “Hm?”
Jaehyun can’t help the smile which overtakes him. Something warm blooms in his chest, because Sungho is cute and lovely and he’s slightly addicted to him. There’s something about Sungho that’s sugary sweet, and his mark on Jaehyun is like the aftertaste of a dessert lingering on his tongue. “The pout. You’re so.. cute.”
The only thing he wants to do is to scrawl on everything about Park Sungho.
Little fractures of morning sun start to flow through the windows of the lecture hall. It highlights the dusting of pink on Sungho’s ears as he covers his face with his hand shyly, eyes crinkling up as he lets out the smallest giggle at Jaehyun’s sudden boldness.
They’re interrupted by the lecturer entering the hall, creating a general hush amongst the students as everyone turns and waits for the lecture to begin.
Sungho gives him a bashful smile before the lecture begins. Jaehyun’s heart shakes a little.
His leg is shaking again. Jaehyun has too much energy right now — he’s driven by something intoxicating, making him feel unsettled, even at this morning lecture. As the lecturer prepares the presentation, he realises he cannot focus for the next hour, even if his life depended on it.
Fuck it. Jaehyun hesitates for a second, giving Sungho the smallest glance from the side. He’s writing the title of that week’s module in his notebook, neat and rounded words in black ink. His lips slightly pouted out in concentration. Jaehyun’s mind bank wants to know if they’re as soft as they look.
Jaehyun pokes his arm again. Sungho’s sweater is soft, like everything else about him. All rounded edges and sweet gestures, laced with sugar underneath.
“Do you have class after this?”
Sungho peeks up from his notebook. Startled, his eyes are slightly rounded, since Jaehyun doesn’t really bother him this early in their lecture, but his face quickly morphs into a small smile.
He shakes his head gently, his blonde hair flowing with the movement. “No, I have a free day after this. Why?”
Even in the quiet morning atmosphere of the lecture hall, where everything feels slower than usual with a side of dazed sleepiness from fellow students, there’s a loud whirring in Jaehyun’s ears.
“Let’s get coffee after class.” He pauses. “Together.”
Sungho blinks once, twice. The motion is slow, like a cat. He’s taken aback.
Jaehyun’s already titchy, his heart fluttering in his chest. He’s trying not to shake his leg under the desk between them, and has resulted in tapping his fingers on the desk instead, which really isn’t any better, but he needs to get this energy out anyway. Especially with the seconds dragging along, waiting for the imminent rejection — Jaehyun’s not feeling so confident now — from Sungho.
“There’s this new place on campus,” Jaehyun blurts out, because he cannot stand any more silence. He’s trying to avoid looking into Sungho's eyes. “I went by it last week. They have pastries too, if you’re hungry—I know you don’t have your usual coffee this morning, so I just thought it would be nice, you know—”
Sungho places his hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder, and Jaehyun shuts his mouth. Suddenly, the humming of the normal lecture sounds — pencils scratching, keyboard tapping, the hubbub of the people around them, dwindles. “Jaehyun-ah. Breathe.”
A sheepish smile from Jaehyun, who wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Sorry.”
Another pause. Sungho tilts his head to the side. “Of course. I’ll go with you.”
In a way that sounds definite, like he’s been mulling over it for days before finally coming to a decision he’s confident in. Jaehyun doesn’t know how to feel. Reviewing his mind bank, Sungho has never been so bold towards him.
For a second, Jaehyun is dazed.
Then, he smiles at Sungho, who’s sitting at an angle which makes the sun pouring from behind him look like he’s glowing, and Sungho’s eyes shaped into little crescent moons of happiness. It’s golden. Jaehyun wants to run across the lecture hall and squeal.
The lecturer clears their throat, a sharp sound which pierces through the little bubble that Sungho and Jaehyun are in. Both of their heads immediately snap to the front.
Next to him, Jaehyun can feel Sungho leaning slightly into him, shoulders almost brushing against each other in the tiny corner of the lecture hall, between the chairs and foldable left-handed desk that they’re forced to squish up in.
Jaehyun looks back for a second at Sungho, just to make sure the blush wasn’t a trick of the light, but Sungho peers at him curiously back. He stifles a giggle at Jaehyun, who’s unabashedly staring at him. “Stop it. Turn to the front.”
The morning autumnal sun has finally peeked through the clouds, making the lecture hall unnaturally bright – it almost hurts to see. Despite this, Jaehyun thinks that the brightest thing in the room is sitting right next to him, humming slightly while neatly writing notes in his notebook attentively.
Either way, he shuts his mouth, and turns to the front, his heart finally stable, and his mind full of Park Sungho.