Accidents are not accidental

They walked slowly along the road in complete silence, turning into a bedroom community where they could not even hear the sounds of cars passing by. Everything seemed serenely quiet that evening, and nothing seemed in a hurry to break the silence. They wandered into another playground, Minho passed an old swing set and pushed it with his foot - it began to make creaking noises. The boy smiled and looked into a small gazebo painted green. He shivered and wrapped himself in his jacket, sitting down on the cold seat. Jisung threw his briefcase inside through the makeshift window of the gazebo and sat down beside him. It seemed to him that time was passing unbearably slowly, and to stop the boredom he felt, he just needed to start a conversation, but no adequate topics came to mind. — So... why didn't you wake me up if you knew we had to get off at the same stop? — junior asked, trying to look into the eyes of the guy across from him. — You looked so happy in your sleep and seemed like you needed it. I didn't want to wake you up, — Minho admitted honestly and covered his eyes. Even if it wasn't entirely true, because he still couldn't get enough sleep himself lately, and in that small noble gesture, he wanted to express the depth of his understanding. It was as if Jisung was reading him like an open book, but one thing he couldn't read: what lurked inside behind the veil of those words. He saw a catch everywhere, and there was nothing he could do about it. — But that's why you couldn't get into the dorm either. — So what? I think it's time Han Jisung didn't find an answer to the question. What do you mean, "So what?" In his mind, if someone was the reason he was in this situation, he would just leave him and get off at his stop, so why did this guy stay and let him sleep on his shoulder for an extra twenty minutes? — I can't understand you at all, — Jisung gave up, leaning back against the hard wooden surface. It cut into his muscles, and an unpleasant sensation of painful tingling ran through his body. His gaze fell involuntarily on Minho's shoulder - it was still much more comfortable for sleeping. — You too, — the older one couldn't understand why there was always such awkwardness between them, like shame, and he wanted to fall under the ground or hide his head there, like in the ostrich stories, — so, you do anything for a living besides your tape recorder, Han Jisung? — Yes, nothing much, - the boy squeezed out of himself, because, as it turned out, he really had nothing to brag about in front of his peers, — I play guitar a little, sing a little. If throwing things around the room is also considered a hobby, then it's also this one. What about you? — I'm on the basketball team, I used to swim, — Minho grinned and looked out at the night street, — I prefer to sleep when I'm not working. — An athlete, then. — Do you have something against athletes? — Yeah, I don't like sports,— Lee only snorted loudly in response. Jisung smiled again. This guy seemed so simple to him, so why was it so hard to understand him. He didn't know what to say, what to ask, and he didn't seem very interested in Jisung's life, though maybe he was just imagining it again. A light rain began to drizzle on the roof of the gazebo. It made the wind stronger, and it wasn't so easy to hide from it behind the thin beams. Minho's hair was fluttering in different directions, but the older man didn't even notice it. The same thing must have been happening on Jisung's head right now. The rain was getting heavier and heavier, and the silence grew more and more oppressive, broken only by the wind that occasionally howled between the dark shapes of the trees. None of them had an umbrella. The prospect of getting wet was not a welcome one, so there was nothing to do but hide from the rain in this little shelter and hope it would be over before morning. Minho suddenly stood up and nodded towards the street, indicating that the rain was almost over and they could start packing for the return trip. They were both still too awkward to be around each other. I guess they're just the kind of personalities, like from books, who can never find a way to approach each other to feel comfortable being alone together. They parted quickly, as quickly as they had met. The two rooms ended up across the hall from each other. It turns out they just never went out at the same time to notice they were living with everything next to each other. — See you around, Han Jisung, — the brunet grunted and slammed the door behind him, not even waiting for a response from the other side. — Yeah, — Han nodded and pulled the knob, stepping into the room where his roommate slept sweetly in the opposite bed. His hand fumbled for the tape recorder in his pocket, and with his eyes closed, he pressed the button: — Recording 266, Lee Minho – new friend or unidentified dubious object?

* * *

It had been a long week, and it was a good thing that the weekend was coming up, and he was going to get a lot of rest. He should have been well prepared for the next pair on Monday, but all such things could be put on the back burner, as they usually were on Friday. A new episode of his favorite show was coming out, and there was no way he was going to miss it. The dining room was slowly filling up with the flow of a large number of people. He wanted to finish his lunch and get to his last class. — Hey, neighbor. Did you hear the news? There's a basketball game tonight in the newly renovated gym behind the university. It's our Tigers vs the Northern Bears. I got two seats in the coolest area. You're coming with me, right? Jisung didn't realize he was being talked to at first. Seungmin sat down so abruptly and started gibbering so fast that the guy only caught a few words out of context. After putting together a seemingly complete picture in his head, he finished his juice and wiped his lips with the edge of his palm. His friend was just a basketball fanatic, though he'd never explained the reasons for his idiotic behavior. His eyes would light up strangely at the mention of university competitions, and he was only rooting for this team of ours. That's weird. — Basketball? — Jisung's eyes widened in surprise. — I told you I hated sports. — Please, I don't have anyone else to go with, and if you bring a friend, they give you a coupon for 20% off pizza and two free drinks, — Kim tried to persuade him, adjusting his shirt collar absentmindedly. — Besides, there's usually a booze party after the game. — And you think you can lure me in with that? I'll think about the pizza, but I'd never admit that you like these kinds of events,— this new side of his roommate surprised junior the most. — I don't! It's just... — Seungmin stammered, and it seemed to Jisung that his friend had turned a tone redder than his usual complexion. — Just what? — I promised a friend I'd come cheer for him. He's playing tonight. — The older man's voice grew quieter, and his eyes flickered nervously. Jisung smirked, noticing these small changes in his roommate's behavior. He was clearly trying to hide the truth from him. When he lied, it was all too obvious, even the pads of his fingers fidgeted with the smooth lines on the table, his eyes ran under the table, and his voice grew quieter, as if he were listening to a very important secret. It was clear enough: his friend liked someone, but he was too shy to say so. And how Han hadn't thought of it before, apparently he'd been too busy thinking about it with Lee Minho. They hadn't seen each other in a week. It wasn't that Jisung was trying to see the top of his head in the crowd, but he hadn't seen him at the university or on the dorm floor. It was all he could think about. Jisung slapped his cheeks, trying to regain his composure, and turned his gaze back to his friend. He was sitting there waiting, and the glimmer of hope in his eyes made the guy give up on this unfair fight. — Okay, I'll go out with you tonight, all right. All for pizza and a free drink, — the younger man rubbed his temples, mentally crossing out all his wonderful plans for the evening. — Thank you! — Kim smiled radiantly, and looked gratefully into Han's eyes. — We'll meet in the room at five o'clock tonight. Just as quickly as he was seated, Seungmin sat back down to join his classmates for lunch. The guy had never seen his roommate so happy about just agreeing to go to some game together. He's clearly into some basketball player, and Jisung just paved the way for their eternal and happy future, because Kim Seungmin isn't the kind of person who would go it alone. He's just too insecure. Returning the tray to the kitchen, Han headed off to his next couple's class, continuing to run through the details of their conversation in his head, then pulled out his portable typewriter again: — Recording 302, why am I lonely? I've already forgotten what it's like to be in love with someone.

* * *

Evening came too quickly. No matter how hard Jisung tried to delay the time until the damn game, it seemed to be speeding up. The guy didn't know how he should dress for this kind of event, so he had left on his black cargo pants, red sneakers, and a white T-shirt with the band's print. Of course, he didn't have any basketball paraphernalia, but looking at his neighbor, he was surprised at what was going on. He had badges, posters, and some shouting things, and a lot of other junk. As long as he didn't yell in Jisung's ears, then maybe he'd stay a few minutes longer. When all of Seungmin's preparations were finished, they set out on the road. The game started at six, but they would obviously arrive early, judging by the energetic stride of his friend, who was rushing to this game like he was late for his own wedding. And who was the man who had succeeded in melting the heart of our nerd? Sometimes Jisung wondered why you could love people. Looks, character, charisma, you name it, you can't name it. But still, why do you love Kim Seungmin? I guess he's just not his type, but someone does.. someone like that, right? — You're so hypocritical, Han Jisung, and you call yourself his friend, — he whispered quietly to himself and sighed heavily. He probably just hates sports. There's no particular reason for that, but he played baseball as a kid and he almost broke his arm twice. The third time, he did. And when physical training was mandatory, he twisted his ankle and waddled around in pain for over a month. Either he's cursed with clumsiness or he has no other explanation. And this invitation has been pissing him off all day, which is why he's being so mean to Seungmin. He's a nice guy, really, just a little arrogant. When they finally got inside the hall, the bleachers on both sides were already almost completely filled. Jisung had never seen so many people in one room before. Shouts of encouragement could be heard from both sides, occasional insults, some people whistling and others stomping their feet. It was so noisy that he wanted to cover hus ears and loudly silence everyone. And why does anyone like such competitions? And the most interesting thing is that there were as many girls as guys. Who'd have doubted it? After all, all those pumped-up basketball players instilled in everyone's heart a desire to be together in the same gym, or even with a continuation in some closed room. Jisung quickly grabbed Seungmin's elbow, and the two of them proceeded to their seats together. They really were some of the best seats here: not too high and not too low, they had a great view of the playing field, and the younger man knew he could see the face of every player if the situation called for it. Seungmin sat down more comfortably and waited impatiently for the start, his all the shouting already at the ready. As soon as the first players appeared, the hall exploded with raucous shouts and applause. All the participants came out and waved to the hall with happy smiles. The girls squealed louder than any screams, and Jisung was about to jump up from his seat to finally leave this awful place when he noticed a familiar head with purple strands ahead of him. His eyes widened in surprise, and the words he'd recently heard: "Playing on the bucketball team..." popped into his brain. How could he have forgotten that? If he'd remembered it a couple hours ago, he'd have thought of anything to avoid showing up here. Now how would he explain to him what he was doing here? He said he hated sports. Although, why would he even have to justify it to him? Yeah, he'd just quickly ride off into the sunset right after the game and forget about the free drinks, the damn pizza, and Seungmin. He was even angrier at him now, and not so much at him as at himself: why hadn't he asked about the players? Jisung tried not to cross his gaze with anyone, but Minho drew him in again and again. He took the orange cap from his roommate's head and pulled it more tightly over his head, but it was too late - he'd been spotted. Their eyes met for just a second, but Jisung already knew that Minho was going to mock him with his sly fox smile. The younger man swallowed loudly, he even thought Lee winked at him. Did he? He was going to have to explain himself to him now, and he was going to bombard him with questions, so he couldn't just say nothing. — Lee Minho, let's go! — was heard from the side. Jisung pulled his cap down over his eyes, because he felt that heavy gaze still haunted him on that podium. He shoved his friend in the side with force that he turned sharply on him and shouted loudly, trying to drown out the general noise of the hall: — Why the hell didn't you tell me he was here too! — Who? — Seungmin's eyes flapped incomprehensibly. — The one whose name you are shouting out so intensely! — Jisung didn't realize what he was saying, he just wanted to explode with indignation. — What? I didn't know that you two knew each other, — Seungmin's cheeks became so red and his eyes flickered nervously again as he tried to formulate his question and sincerely didn't understand why his roommate reacted like that. He grabbed onto Jisung's hand as he was about to get up and leave. — Please don't go! You promised. - I didn't-.. Suddenly everything became quieter, and the whistle to start the game was heard. If he got up and walked away now, he would draw unnecessary attention to himself and give Minho another ground for his cocky grin. No way, he wouldn't allow himself to be embarrassed like that. The younger man was still holding his cap with his left hand and snatched his hand away from his neighbor with abruptness, silently turning his gaze to the field. The game was already in full swing, even though it had just started. The ball was running all over the stadium, the squeaks of sneakers could be heard, and the air seemed to be hotter than usual. Both teams were clearly serious about winning and were pulling the spectators into the abyss of this game. No matter how hard Jisung tried, all he could do was keep his eyes on Minho. He had gotten used to all the annoying noise and seemed to hear nothing but his own breathing and heartbeat. Lee Minho was gorgeous in this look, which couldn't be overlooked. The orange sleeveless shirt with the number six sat on him loosely and flared at any of his movements. His bare arms, which skillfully drove not only the ball, but also circled his opponents with sharp lunges in the other direction, looked impossibly perfect: tense, elastic-looking muscles, swollen veins, thin, long fingers - all this was created for that damn ball. The ends of Lee's hair were wet with sweat and sticking to his forehead, and sometimes he brushed it away with his hand, trying to catch his breath, and sometimes he even lifted the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe away the sweat, revealing a view of his rather prominent abs. Jisung caught himself thinking that he was staring at the older man's body, but he couldn't help it, because he'd never once thought about the fact that athletes really had such... bodies.. body. The hall froze in anticipation as Minho rushed to the ring and jumped high, throwing the ball right into the center of the basket. The crowd erupted again, the stunned fans squealing and shouting the senior's name, apparently he was one of the best players on the team. Han himself didn't notice as he jumped up from his seat with a shriek of joy. Embarrassed by his action, he blushed and coughed awkwardly, sitting back down under his neighbor's satisfied squint. Not that this one game had completely changed his attitude towards sports, but it really wasn't that bad. Only when it was over, and the hall began to slowly disperse, Jisung realize that he didn't even know what the score of the game had been. He didn't even remember the faces of any of the other contestants, there was only one him in his head. Again. Shaking his hair, he tried to chase the color off his cheeks: he clearly needed to cool down. — Hey, Seungmin! I'll go get us some drinks, I hope they put a lot of ice in it. — I'll be near the east grid, gotta meet...ahem.... with a friend, — he kept looking for someone with his eyes and flitting impatiently between people. — Okaay, — he was getting tired of his neighbor's cat-and-mouse game. Jisung had no trouble finding the drink table and picked up two glasses with tubes, I think there was orange juice inside. He put one glass on the table and took out a tape recorder: — Recording 305, I didn't expect it from myself, but I even liked it! Maybe Seungmin will be able to get me out for basketball again, I'll let him know about it sometime so that he doesn't get too proud. Immediately after the end of the recording beeped, the guy pressed his lips to the tip of the tube and began to greedily sip on the juice, searching for a familiar top. There were people scurrying around, and although the hall had emptied out a little, it didn't seem to be going away at all. What was he saying? Eastern grid? Without noticing the guy in front of him, Jisung slammed into him, and the juice he'd been trying so hard to convey to his friend turned out to be an orange stain on someone's white uniform. Swallowing, the younger man looked up and stared straight up at some kind of closet, judging by the pile of muscles in front of him. Standing before him was the captain of the Northern Bears team. You got it! — Hey, you. What did you do?! That's our only uniform! Who's gonna wash it now?! And that fucking color. Did they send you to embarrass me? One victory isn't enough for them?! — This guy was clearly in a bad mood after the loss, and he didn't hesitate to yell, grabbing Jisung by the pecs and pulling him to him so hard you could hear the fabric crack between his fingers. — I'm so sorry, I... I accidentally... I didn't mean to.. — Jisung mumbled, cursing himself for his clumsiness, still clutching his juice glass tightly in his hands. — What are you mumbling about? Speak up, or else... — this guy had no patience for anyone at all. — Or else what? Are you sure your team needs an excuse for a scandal? He said it was an accident, — a familiar voice came from behind him, Minho said it with a grin and didn't seem to be afraid of this overpumped jerk. — I'll get even with you, — he shoved Jisung right back at Lee, spat under his feet, and looked at the couple with a disdainful glare, — Personally. — I'll be waiting for it, — the older man shouted after him. — You all right? Did he scare you a lot? Don't worry, he's only good with his mouth. Jisung didn't worry any more. When he was pushed, he landed softly in Minho's arms, but he quickly regained his balance and got to his feet and nodded. The corner of the brunet's mouth was raised, a white towel resting on his shoulders, hiding most of his bare shoulders. — It's okay, now. If it hadn't been for you, this could have ended more pitifully than a doused uniform, — the guy stared stupidly at the cup he held in his hands. — Don't exaggerate, I'm telling you, he's all talk. — No, really, thank you. — Since I'm such a hero, do I get a reward? How about this attractive juice? - Lee smiled wider, raising his head victoriously. — I've already drunk half of it, so I'll get you a new one, — he said, and took a couple steps toward the table. — That'll be good enough for me. Minho easily intercepted the younger man's hand as he walked beside him, lifted it a little higher, and grasped the protruding and slightly chewed tube with his lips. Their eyes met again, making Jisung blush, the look so piercing it was like Lee was trying to capture the boy's full attention. And one couldn't help but admit that he had succeeded. The glass slowly emptied, and all this time the older man never once interrupted this impossibly intimate eye contact. "Why are you staring at me like that," — Jisung resented himself, and when the juice finally ran out, he brought his hand down too sharply, stroking the tube across his lips. A brief pause hung. Minho licked his lips and deliberately held his tongue on his lower lip for what seemed to Jisung to be a deliberately long time. — I don't think berries were part of the juice, — Minho chuckled and let go of the younger man's hand, abruptly changing the subject, — You're going to the bar with everyone, aren't you? — Berries...? Jisung licked his own lips, letting the last question pass his ears, and his hitherto rosy cheeks took on an even redder hue. His... berry balm. What a shame! But it was Minho's own fault: the guy had offered to bring him another juice, but no, he had to drink this one. Embarrassment made him want to run away or throw that orange juice in his face. Why did he say that? What was the purpose? His head began to spin again with a whirlwind of ugly thoughts. Jisung covered his mouth with the inside of his palm and turned away, avoiding the gaze across the room. Did that mean.. that they had just had an indirect kiss! How many times do I have to think about this! He would just drive him crazy with his actions. Shameless! The guy was so nervous that he was licking that unfortunate balm off his lips to get away from his stupid thoughts. — There you are! I told you where I'd be. How long can I wait for you?! — Seungmin yelled, approaching the guys and waving some kind of leaf around. — Oh.. Minho! Hello, I've been looking for you. Have you met my roommate yet? Oh yeah, he said something about you two knowing each other. What are you guys talking about? Seungmin brightened up with his impossibly sincere smile, he even seemed to stand up straighter, and immediately forgot about the juice as if there was no juice at all. Of course, except that the juice was only in Jisung's head now. He hurriedly turned away, sensing Minho distracted by the conversation, and took a couple steps back. Then tossed the cup into the nearest trash can and tentatively squeezed it with force as if it were Minho himself. The guy ran a hand through his hair and nervously pulled it out, pressing the button of his recorder again: — Recording 306, that damn Minho! I hate him so much! He does unimaginable things to me. I'll give him a sweet life if that's what he wants! He'll know how to embarrass me. — I was just asking if your roommate was going to the bar, but I'd love it if you came too, Seungmin. — Of course we'll go, won't we, Hannie? - he pulled the confused boy by the elbow and smiled again. — Yeah, yeah, — the younger man still didn't understand what he'd just agreed to, but it clearly didn't bode well again. — I'll see you there, then, and now I have to hurry back to my team, so I'll leave you to it, — he winked at both of them. Jisung felt Seungmin's expression stall as if he was frozen in the moment. His cheeks were the same shade as Han's cheeks were a few minutes ago. How does this guy manage to kill two birds with one stone? Junior snapped his fingers in front of his neighbor's face, bringing him to his senses. He had almost fully recovered from his own indignation and confusion. — Hey, dove, wake up, or your love will fly away, — Jisung snorted, and got a light slap on the back for it. — You want to die?! I'm kidding, but no, it's obvious you're in love with him. — Shut up! — Seungmin shouted at him, using both hands to cover the boy's mouth so that no one else could hear them. — Tell the whole university about it. — I'll be sure to tell them how inappropriately you stare at him, — Jisung mooed into his hand, mockingly playing with his eyebrows in front of his poor roommate. — You're no better, for you haven't had a fly in your mouth the whole game! — ... Jisung really had nothing to say to that. But now there was a brief silence: they both slowly digested the words they had said to each other. Seungmin took his hands away from the younger man's mouth, not knowing how to behave with him, because they had just agreed on one thing: Minho was attracting all the attention in the world. —So, how are you?.. — the youngest began the conversation again with a stutter, still feeling uncomfortable, as if all his innermost secrets were about to come out right now. — We're actually classmates. Didn't I tell you? — What...? Jisung forcefully threw the tiger cap that was still resting on his head from time to time to the floor and, in a fit of rage, stepped on it with his foot several times. Seungmin only flapped his eyes in incomprehension at all these actions. — WHAT THE FUCK, SHIT‼ — Jisung shouted almost to the entire hall, turned on his heels and rushed towards the exit, clenching his hands into fists. Anyway, this doesn't seem like a mere coincidence anymore, but a real pattern. He's obviously hiding something, this Lee Minho, and Jisung will definitely find out what he's up to, but he just has to wait a little longer. He can't escape the punishment of justice!