Warning: homophobia

          They’re laughing, splashing what’s left of the 7th bottle they’ve poured on him across his face. He flinches. It’s cold, he realises. And he shivers. Jongin brings a hand up, wiping away the liquid that obscured his vision off of his face with the back of his hand. Maybe it’s better this way. With strands of his hair sticking to his face and the way he’s mostly soaked in water, Jongin lets the tears out. Maybe they won’t notice him crying.

“C’mon, Jongin, look at us,” someone who used to be one of his closest friends, Daein, sneers. He speaks with mockery, acting as if he feels sad that Jongin wouldn’t look up at them, and he has the audacity to pout. “This is for your good, okay? This is mercy for my old friend.”

Jongin buries his head in between his folded up legs, whimpering as he shivers in cold. The tiles of the floor and the wall do no good in warming him up. Instead, it forces more of the cold into his skin, not caring whether or not he wants it. Dressed in only his gym pants and gym shirt, Jongin doesn’t have that much to protect himself from the temperature. He bears through more water splashed onto him, his teeth gritted to prevent them from chattering. Jongin curls up into himself even more, if that’s even possible.

“I’m a Catholic, you know?” Daein gurns. “And I hate this behaviour.”

“W-What?” Jongin huffs to himself, finding it amusing. “That I’m a f-?”

“Yes, Jong.” Daein sounds sad, but Jongin knows he’s actually not. “I’m just trying to save you.”

“By shower— showering me with water?” Jongin weakly laughs, his breath stuttering as he receives another set of violent shivers. “That’s n-new.”

“No, Jong. This is Holy Water.” Daein smiles. He takes a step back and nods his head in satisfaction. “I hope this will rid you of that illness of yours.”

Daein and his friends leave then, slamming the door behind them shut. They leave Jongin there on the floor, sitting in a pool of cold water as he feels himself freezing up. The toilet’s dark. And in it Jongin helplessly weeps. He’s not physically harmed this time, maybe it’s because Daein really did show him some mercy as he mentioned, but this time he senses the embarrassment creeping up his spine. The humiliation from being tossed around and treated like he was crazy by someone he used to know, Jongin hates it.

“It’s not an illness.” Jongin shakes his head non-stop, talking to the air. He flicks off the tears profusely spilling from his eyes. “I’m not sick.”

Jongin can’t stop the shivers, but he’s more upset he can’t stop his tears.

“Jongin, hey.” Someone’s shaking him awake. His skin burns at the touch. It’s a really huge contrast to the phantom cold he feels from the dream and it makes him shoot up with a gasp. “Woah, it’s just me.”

Jongin’s eyes focuses on Chanyeol, focuses on the brightness of the room. He looks around with squinted eyes, realising that he’s still in class. “Yeol?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Chanyeol offers him a tentative lipped smile. “Man, that must’ve been one hell of a dream. You slept through the lesson. Renjun’s letting you off but no more, he says. And you’re sweating so much, I don’t think you’re doing so well.”

Jongin groans, finding himself to be in a really bad state. He’s panting so hard, and he’s shaking so much. It really was one hell of a dream. Jongin gets up from his seat, holding onto Chanyeol’s hand for support but even that wasn’t enough as his legs give way. He lets out a muffled yelp, catching himself before he lands on his face.

“Jongin, you’re not okay,” Chanyeol says in a soft tone.

“I’m…” Jongin breathes out once, twice. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Chanyeol stresses.

“I’ll be fine.” Jongin falls down into his seat again. “I need to get to the meeting.”

“As your PA, you are not allowed to.” Chanyeol suddenly presses a cold hand to Jongin’s forehead, making his body burst in a little shiver. “You don’t have fever.”

“Good. That means I’ll go to the meeting.” Jongin sighs. “See? I’m fine.”

“No, no, no.” Chanyeol shakes his head. He leans back onto the seat behind him, just analysing Jongin’s state to see what’s wrong. “When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

“5 minutes ago?” Jongin squints at Chanyeol. “I’m fine.”

“Not 5 minutes ago.” Chanyeol scrunches his face up, frowning and looking at Jongin in disappointment. “You know what I mean.”

Jongin ducks his head down, bouncing his forehead repeatedly against the table. “Saturday,” he mumbles.

“What?” Chanyeol asks.

“Saturday!” Jongin raises his voice, snapping his head up to stare back into Chanyeol’s eyes with the same intensity as the rate of his heartbeat. “The last time I had a good rest was two days ago.”

It doesn’t take Chanyeol that long to register Jongin’s words. The look in his eyes soften and Chanyeol’s standing up straight as he eyes Jongin with a little more sympathy.

“Saturday. After you’ve had some drinks from the party. And before that? Before Saturday?” Chanyeol asks.

Jongin doesn’t see the point in lying. He’s in too bad of a state to lie and say it was just Saturday. Chanyeol’s smarter than he lets on. So he deflates in his seat, his arms wrapped around himself as he looks up at Chanyeol. He makes it obvious that he’s exhausted because he truly hopes Chanyeol sees it. It’s more tiring trying to fake everything. Jongin doesn’t answer, but the other knows it has to at least be three days till Jongin’s slumber on Saturday.

“What’s been bugging you?”

“Nothing much.” Jongin waves Chanyeol away, standing up again once he feels like his head wouldn’t explode right then and there.

“Nothing much is still something.” Chanyeol blocks his way when he tries to walk away. “I don’t mind if you don’t feel like telling me, but I want you to admit that you have problems.”

“Why?” Jongin whines. “Why do I have to? It’s not important.”

“If you’re losing sleep because of it, it needs to be important.” Chanyeol shrugs. “It’s just how it works.”

“Yeol…” Jongin sighs. “We’ve been friends for less than three weeks. I can’t just tell you. This isn’t how it works.”

“So?” Chanyeol frowns, but the sides of his lips are pulled up into a smile of disbelief. “I only knew Jongdae for 9 days, but I knew he was going to be one of my best friends. Time does not matter.”

“It does. That’s not how best friends work.” Jongin shakes his head. “You don’t know anything.”

“That’s why—” Chanyeol pushes himself off from the side of the table and takes a step closer to Jongin. “That’s why I’m asking. So… please, do enlighten me.”

Jongin pins his eyes on his hands, watching the way his thumbs twist and folds. He’s scared to look up at Chanyeol. He’s afraid of meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. He knows he’ll fall apart once he does that.

“Best friends are supposed to know you, in and out. They’re supposed to be someone who’s been there for you for years. You have to have a really strong bond with a best friend,” Jongin mutters, “and they’ll support you. Best friends are supposed to support you and guide you. They’re not supposed to ridicule you when they find out you’re not like them.”

Jongin takes a shaky breath in. Chanyeol mimics him, breathing in too. Silence envelops them and it takes Jongin a few seconds to realise that Chanyeol’s only shaken up and quiet because he sees the tears flowing down Jongin’s cheek. He feels the warmth on his skin, the burning remnants of his tears once it drips away. When did he start crying?

“They’re not supposed to pity you like you’re lower than them. They’re not supposed to make you feel like .” Chanyeol realises by the tone in his voice that he’s not talking about Taemin. No. Jongin’s talking about his past. The one that’s haunting him in his sleep.

Jongin’s stuttering on his breaths. He chokes on his sobs the more he tries to speak. Having enough of that, Chanyeol throws his arms around Jongin and pulls him close into a hug. He expects some resistance, some protest, and he braces himself for some harsh pushing, but he gets none. To his utter surprise, Jongin reciprocates the action. And he tightens his hold. It’s then that he realises how broken Jongin was, and how strong his glue was that no one suspected anything more than exhaustion. Like him, Chanyeol realises, Jongin’s been beaten down in his childhood. Jongin’s been habitually suppressing everything. Like him, Chanyeol realises, Jongin needed someone to embrace him.

Chanyeol discerns that he’s really lucky to have met Jongdae who held him like he’s holding Jongin now. He’s lucky enough to have been embraced before the bullying gets to him. Chanyeol discerns that Jongin’s not as lucky as he is.

Chanyeol rhythmically pats his back, calming a shaking Jongin in his arms. He understands. And he says nothing more.

         Renjun’s standing at the front of the room, pacing back and forth as he explains more about the election that’s coming up soon. Calling it an election was a bit of a stretch, so Jongin likes to just simply call it Voting Day. His team’s been working hard to create posters and slogans, and Jongin’s been working his sleepless nights preparing for Voting Day where they’ll be interviewing the candidates. After the interview is when they’ll leave it up to the professors to vote.

When Chanyeol walked into the room with Jongin following after him, the whole room had fallen into a deep silence. Jongin’s team and Sehun’s team were staring at them with different emotions flashing in their orbs. Jongin cowered once he noticed all of them staring at him, and Chanyeol noticed that. Turns out, he could be fierce if he wanted to because he sharpened his stare and sent everyone a warning look to ignore Jongin’s red and swollen eyes. Jongin could tell everyone was easily unsettled by that look.

Now it’s been less than 15 minutes and his eyes are still red, still swollen. The two teams are sitting around round tables, and Jongin’s seated next to Chanyeol who’s leaning as close as he can to Jongin. Maybe as a comforting gesture. And on his left is Jongdae who whispered into his ear, asking if he’s okay a while ago. Jongin shrugged and gave him an emotionless smile as a response.

“Jongin, how much progress do you already have for your team?” The whole room turns their attention to him. Sehun’s older friends are looking at him weirdly, and his own friends are eyeing him with an emotion he’s never seen before directed to him.

Jaehyun and Johnny are sitting across from him and it’s obvious they’re, maybe, concerned. If the look in their eyes isn’t concern, then Jongin doesn’t know what it is. Jongin parts his lips to speak, softly clearing his throat to prepare to talk but Chanyeol beats him to it.

“I’d say we’re about 97 percent done. We just need to prep Jongin up for the interview.” While Chanyeol speaks, Jongin expects him to look at him much more than one simple glance. “We’re practically done.”

“Good.” Renjun’s look on Jongin and Chanyeol lingers a second longer than it should. “Um, Sehun?”

“The same.” Sehun’s looking at him as he says that, and Jongin doesn’t want him to look away.

Jongin decides that he has to talk to Sehun about the relationship between them. Maybe it’s the fear that Sehun can go back to his ways that scares Jongin more than his nightmares. His nightmares came back after the first party he attended. And maybe it came back once he actually openly talked about his past with the one person that ruined it. He’s been in a healthy state of mind for a long time now, and Taemin’s been going the extra mile to make sure it stays that way. He has to get it back.

“Alright, good.” Renjun smiles. “Are there any complications that you’ve faced?”

“Actually, there is,” Chanyeol voices out. He twirls a pen with his fingers. “We think there needs to be sample questions for the interview. We can’t guess what kind of questions they’re asking.”

“I will address that with the committee. Thank you, Chanyeol.” Renjun jots it down onto his notepad before looking up through his glasses without actually raising his head. “Anymore? Sehun?”

“No, Prof’.” Sehun shakes his head.

“Well, then, that’s it for today. If you’ve got any questions come to me. That’s it, gentlemen.” Renjun then shoots one of Sehun’s female friend a knowing look. “And lady.”

Everyone gets up then, and they start