Jaejoong doesn’t register the thump of Changmin’s thick stack of notes hitting the table, but it’s hard to not notice Changmin’s fingers under his chin, tilting his head up so his face can be under Changmin’s scrutiny whether he likes it or not.

Changmin huffs. “This is ridiculous. If there’s something on your mind, spill it and stop taking it out on your textbook. Trees have died for that, you know.”

Jaejoong bats Changmin’s hand away and looks down again, a pang of guilt entering his heart when he finally sees how much he’s ruining his English textbook but it’s not enough to stop him from doodling even more.

“Hyung? Talk to me. Or write. Whatever. I’ll help you if I can.”

You can’t, Jaejoong thinks venomously, stabbing his pen deep into the page. He watches as a thin circle of ink starts forming around the nib, swallowing up the English words surrounding it.

“Is it a girl?”                                            

There’s a long, measured silence, and then Jaejoong slides the tablet over to himself and types in something before handing it over to Changmin. What are you smoking is written on the screen in bold. If anything, it just proves how despite how close they are, Changmin’s never really understood him, perhaps as much as he never understood Changmin.

“A boy then?”

Two boys, to be exact.

Changmin’s next words are apprehensive, as though he’s expecting the worst. “Hyung, is it me?”

It’s on the tip of Jaejoong’s tongue to reply in the affirmative, but in the end he retracts his fingers without typing anything and pulls out the half-finished philosophy essay that’s due in two weeks from his bag, giving it to Changmin.

“The benefits of immortality?” Changmin reads aloud.

The title seems strangely fitting, with Changmin reading it out.

Jaejoong’s breath catches. If Changmin has anything to do with this…would he know about the picture and whatever weird kind of immortality enabled him to be in it?

And more importantly, would he give anything away if he did?

Jaejoong finally raises his head. Help me? He mouths as he takes the tablet back.

Changmin looks relieved. “So it was just this? It’s not that hard. You get to see the world change, meet more than one generation of famous people, have more time to do everything you like…you know, you could just get this stuff from that vampire show you like watching.”

But vampires aren’t real, Jaejoong types.

“Even if they aren't, they are immortal. They probably have it right.”

Perhaps it’s just Jaejoong’s overwrought mind, but it’s unusual that Changmin didn’t deny that vampires don’t exist.

But does that override watching the person you love die if they’re not immortal as well? is Jaejoong’s next question.

Unless Jaejoong’s very much mistaken, a trickle of ice leaks into Changmin’s eyes, and his face takes on a guarded expression. “About that…”

Jaejoong’s face scrunches up in pain, and he doubles over, only preventing himself by falling out of his chair by bracing himself against the table.

The mark under his collarbone is hurting again.