Chapter Text
His big day started out very smoothly. The plane was on time, the meal unexpectedly delicious, and he even managed to squeeze in some sleep during the two-hour flight. Thanks to the student visa, he went through the immigration in a flash and upon reaching the designated baggage pick-up tray immediately spotted his luggage—a huge, custom made black briefcase with his name painted on in white. His mother had insisted on it, much to his embarrassment and secret appreciation (it was a major improvement from the self portrait phone case he used to own years back). Most of the people in this country probably wouldn"t be able to read the characters, so at least he didn"t have to worry about it here.
When he stepped out of the arrival gate, a middle-aged man he recognised as the dorm manager waved him over. He promptly followed the man to his car and throughout the drive, they talked about his new school and living arrangement. It was a relief that the man spoke in his native language, because he wouldn"t have been able to catch half of what was said otherwise. Three months of preparatory classes had taught him a basic understanding of Korean, but having to suddenly communicate with a native is another thing.
They stopped in front of a colourful multi-storey building. He was to be staying on the fifth floor—the highest floor—with six other boys from the same school. Nobody was there to answer the door, however. The dorm manager apologised for forgetting to inform them of his arrival, but he honestly thought it was for the better. Having lived together with his family for his whole life, he was undoubtedly nervous about this new change. He could appreciate the time alone to mentally prepare himself.
The room he was assigned to was smaller than the one he had back in his own home. He didn"t pay much thought into it, transfixed by the bunk bed at the corner of the room. As a kid, he had always wanted to sleep in one of those. Especially the top bunk.
Once the manager bid his goodbye, he unleashed his excitement and leaped up onto his bed, rolling and flopping around. He reached out to the ceiling, laughing giddily to himself.
"Hello, my name is Zhong Chenle. Nice to meet you!"
Clucking his tongue at the unnatural pronunciation, he rehearsed the line a few more times until it sounded acceptable to his ears. His phone, now connected to the dorm wifi, vibrated continuously beside him. After spending some time replying to his parents" texts, he glanced at his luggage taking up space on the floor.
He really should start unpacking before his roommate got back. He also really didn"t feel like doing it. Not when the world outside was calling out to him from the gap of the window.
His eyes drifted towards the desk. The dorm manager had left him with a set of keys and an area map. Without pondering any longer, he shoved the two items in his backpack and headed out ready to explore.
Everything that day had gone unnervingly smooth so far; he should have known something was bound to go wrong at some point.
After an hour of walking and sightseeing, the last fifteen minutes of which he spent going around in circles, he had to accept the reality that he was lost in the middle of a foreign country. His phone battery was running out and the GPS refused to work offline. To make matters worse, he was starting to freeze because he left his coat back in the dorm. He should have bought a phone card at the airport. He should have taken out some money from the envelope deep inside his luggage. So many convenience stores offering tourist cards around him, and he could only mourn wistfully at his lack of local currency and foresight.
He was trying to guess his location on the map he could hardly read when someone sat down on the bench he was occupying. It was a boy probably around his age, chomping on hot dogs without a care in the world. He wanted to look away because the sight was making him hungry, but a tiny yellowish puff mesmerized him into staring. Was that a popcorn? With the way he was demolishing those hot dogs, he could somehow fathom why a piece of popcorn would get tangled in his hair.
The subtle bobbing of the popcorn proved to be too difficult to tear his eyes from. The boy turned his head towards him and he failed to react in time. He was contemplating on telling him about the popcorn when a violent shiver caught him off-guard. His hands clenched involuntarily, crushing the map in his grip.
Great. As if it wasn"t already indecipherable.
Chenle pressed down the paper in a futile act to bring back its former state. He must have looked pitiful enough for the boy to strike a conversation with him.
"Excuse me, are you lost?"
He had to repeat and translate the words in his mind. Once he grasped the meaning, he muttered an affirmative answer and bashfully lowered his face. The boy kindly offered to help, and oh, he had a really cute smile. Curbing the thought just as swiftly as it came, he unlocked his dying phone to search for a screenshot of his new address. As fate would have it, the boy told him he lived in the same place. Chenle couldn’t keep from laughing. His lucky stars must have lined up for this chance encounter, because really, what are the odds.
He did his introduction as practised and shook hands with the boy. His fingers were greasy from the hot dogs, which was a little gross, but he’d let it go this time because they were warm and welcoming. The boy apparently shared a name with footballer Park Jisung, not that Chenle knew who that was. He made a mental note to look him up later.
Jisung stood up, ready to guide him back, and Chenle scrambled to his feet. He shouldn’t miss this chance. After all, he was no longer just a random stranger. It should be fine.
He went up to Jisung and quickly freed the popcorn from its accidental prison. Satisfied, he held up the misplaced snack that had been weighing on his mind.
“You have popcorn in your hair,” he cheerfully told Jisung, who appeared to be rather shaken by the revelation. God, even his shocked face is adorable.
He probably shouldn’t have giggled, but seeing Jisung frantically ruffle at his hair was too amusing. Chenle consoled the morbidly embarrassed boy by repeatedly telling him it was okay, rubbing his arm for a good measure. The last move seemed to work on him—Jisung straightened up immediately and coughed into his fist.
“Thank you for telling me about, uh, the popcorn. My friends didn’t say anything.” He was scowling as he spoke, and Chenle should really stop finding every little thing he did cute.
“No problem.” He shook his head while Jisung nodded in response.
“Shall we go now?”
Instead of a yes, what came out of him was a sneeze so intense it wobbled his footing. Chenle groaned into his hands. There wasn’t any snot, thankfully, or else he would have been buried with at least quadruple the shame Jisung had felt earlier.
When he looked up to apologise, he was met with a handful of soft grey wool. He glanced at Jisung’s now bared neck and back at the scarf presented to him. Chenle waved his hands in refusal. “No, no, no. It’s alright.”
Jisung pressed the scarf into his arms. “It’s okay, take it. I think you need it more than I do.” He let go with a smile and turned around after prompting Chenle to follow him.
The warmth it brought him was far too tempting to resist. Chenle blanketed his body with the scarf, his heartbeat picking up.
So, Jisung was not only cute. He was also a little bit cool.