Jongin sits in a classroom hunched over his desk, his hands holding up his head. It was five minutes from six o’clock, and the light from the setting sun streaming in through the windows was beginning to saturate into a deeper orange.

The classroom was dreadfully silent, except for the occasional rustle of paper, and the maddeningly slow tick of the wall clock.

Had it been his fault that he was running late to school that morning? Perhaps his homeroom teacher would say yes faster than Jongin could explain, but in truth, the world just wasn’t in Jongin’s favour today. 

The morning had been a string of unfortunate events, from spending the wee hours searching for his misplaced tie, running back home from the bus stop to retrieve his forgotten homework, consequently missing his bus, to stepping on a freaking puddle while running to school. Jongin was sure some omnipresent being was at play, messing with him and purposefully trying to get on his nerves, because seriously? A puddle? 

Jongin sighs, thinking it would be much more productive spending the evening at home writing the economics paper he has due tomorrow, rather than serving detention in this dingy old classroom. As if seven hours of school a day weren’t taxing enough. 

At that moment, Jongin’s phone vibrates. He takes a moment to thank every deity he knows that he had remembered to switch it to silent mode. Amen. He looks up to check that the teacher in charge hadn’t somehow heard it before sliding the device out of his pocket, reading that it’s a message from Luhan. 

Detention, huh? Bad !!! I’m at the playground right now 

Jongin rolls his eyes, but quickly texts back, I’m almost done, wait for me, before pocketing the phone again. Just as the bell rings, signalling that detention was over, Jongin thinks, I guess the econs paper has to wait. 

Luhan is sitting on the swings, dangling his feet back and forth. Jongin walks up to him, automatically taking the swing beside him. 

‘What did you get into trouble for?’ Luhan asks, ‘Did you a girl? Cheat on a test? I wouldn’t put it past you to start a food fight in the cafeteria either, honestly.’ 

‘Thanks,’ Jongin deadpans, ‘But I was late for school this morning.’ 

‘Ah, of course, how could I – of all people – forget that Kim Jongin prioritizes beauty sleep over everything else?’ Luhan clucks his tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment at himself. 

‘Shut up,’ Jongin says, kicking at Luhan’s swing and sending him in an awkward orbit, ‘Anyway, what did you call me here for?’

‘I don’t know, I kinda wanted to–’ Luhan blurts out, but then quickly stopping himself, ‘Never mind, it’s a stupid idea, forget it.’

‘Hyung!’ Jongin whines in indignation, ‘You can’t do that. When you say something, you have to finish it!’ He hates it when Luhan cuts his sentences short, it always made him feel as if the older boy were keeping something from him.

Luhan sighs, exasperated, ‘Alright, alright!’ He slings off his backpack from his shoulders, searching through the pockets. ‘Don’t… Don’t say anything first,’ he mutters.

Jongin’s eyes go wide when he looks at the palm-sized box Luhan recovers from his backpack, ‘Why– How did you–?’

Luhan interrupts quickly, ‘I said not to say anything first! I just… took it, okay? My dad leaves his cigarette packs everywhere, so I just– It was just lying there so I took it.’

Jongin gives Luhan a reproachful look, but stays silent, urging the older boy to continue.

Luhan uncaps the pack, pulling out a slender, white roll of tabacco, twiddling it with his svelte fingers. ‘He always smokes after he’s had a bad day at work – or when he’s not feeling too good. It smells pretty foul, but you get used to it.’

‘Are you… not feeling too good?’ Jongin asks, wanting to hear Luhan’s answer.

Luhan pulls out a lighter from his pocket, turning to face Jongin. ‘I haven’t tried it, I swear. But… it can’t be that bad, right?’ he asks, ignoring Jongin’s question, ‘Adults do it all the time, and it’s not like it’s illegal drugs or something.’

Jongin speaks up before thinking, instinctively trying to prevent the growing look of apprehension on Luhan’s face, ‘I’ll try it. I’ll try it with you. That’s what you want, right?’

‘Yeah, I guess,’ Luhan gives Jongin a lopsided smile, and turns back to light up the cigarette, ‘I was afraid to do it alone. Let’s just share one.’

‘Ugh– You’re right, it reeks,’ Jongin says, bringing a hand up to his nose. The stench was thick and suffocating, but Luhan didn’t seem to have a reaction to it.

Luhan holds the cigarette up to his lips, the paper roll between the tips of his forefinger and thumb, the way he had seen his father do so many times before. His lips part slightly, taking in the filtered end of the cigarette. He in air, watching the other end of the cigarette flare, the feeling of ashy smoke building up in his mouth and clogging up the back of his throat. When he tries to inhale to push the smoke back into his lungs, his gag reflex triggers and suddenly he’s coughing like he has a really bad case of chronic bronchitis or something.

Jongin is standing by his side in a second, stifling a laugh and crouching over Luhan as he retches (how attractive, Luhan thinks), patting his back soothingly. 

‘Ha. Ha,’ Luhan chokes out, offering Jongin the lit up cigarette. ‘I tried it,’ He mumbles in between coughs, ‘Your turn.’

Jongin takes it from him, still chuckling at the memory of Luhan’s attempt at smoking. Although Jongin doesn’t know why, he feels relieved now, having witnessed Luhan’s plan completely backfire on him. He’s going to enjoy making Luhan’s life miserable by bringing up this episode at every chance he gets for at least the next five years. 

At first, it felt strange having the roll of nicotine suddenly so accessible to him. He somehow felt older. He puts the cigarette between his teeth without hesitation, the curiousity becoming too overwhelming. Isn’t this supposed to be an indirect kiss or something? Jongin wonders absentmindedly. 

But then he takes a deep breath in and immediately regrets it – the sensation burning up his throat. 

He tosses the cigarette on the ground, immediately stubbing it out with his shoe. He spits, trying to get the bitter, rancid taste out of his mouth. ‘Yuck,’ he concludes, ignoring Luhan’s loud guffaws.

‘You should have seen your face!’ Luhan laughs, slapping his thigh, his quavering body almost losing balance and falling off the swing. 

‘I’m sure it couldn’t have been any worse than yours,’ Jongin retorts, picking up the cigarette and walking over to a nearby trash can to toss the damn thing into the ashtray, ‘You looked like you were about to pass out.’ 

‘Did not!’

‘Did too!’ 

‘Whatever,’ Luhan says, fishing out the cigarette pack from his backpack, ‘If this is what smoking is like, my dad should consider quitting.’ 

And with that, the pack goes into the trash can, and the pair walk home as the evening turns into night.