Weak (for the) He(te)ro (in) Class 1

4 - WHAT (do i do with all of these) FEELINGS?

Yeon Sieun spent the rest of the evening, after he had come back from school, fixing up his bedroom. 'Fixing up' usually meant making sure there wasn't anything in his room that would give someone reason to start asking questions. For Sieun, this could mean hiding items that have something to do with his mother—of course, knowing An Suho, his family life would still be brought up in conversation with avid curiosity. This could also mean remembering to keep things referencing his autism or anxiety in one place, so that if Suho has a nosy around, he doesn't find them.

If Yeon Sieun knew that when An Suho came into his bedroom that evening he would do everything Sieun hoped he wouldn't, Yeon Sieun wouldn't have tried so hard to begin with.

The doorbell rings, and a curt knock resonates through the quiet flat. "Delivery!" a low voice shouted. Sieun furrows his eyebrows and grabs the nearest thing in his reach—to defend himself in case he gets attacked—before he makes his way to the front door. It happens to be a ball-point pen. He clicks the pen slowly, hoping the nib is as sharp as he believes it is, before speaking up.

"I didn't order anything; are you sure you're at the right place?" His voice doesn't hide his nervousness a single bit.

"Delivery for Yeon Sieun, it says so right here!" The voice calls back so loudly that it makes Sieun jump in his skin. He stands in silence, contemplating his decision. It wasn't silent for long because the person on the other side of the door yelled out again, eager to get inside.

"Hey, Yeon Sieun! Open the door—it's me, An Suho. It's freaking cold out here, so let me in!" An Suho? That idiot. Sieun's racing heart slows to a stop and returns to its natural rhythm, beating calmly. He relaxes his expression and opens the door to an unsuspecting Suho, who almost falls on top of him.

"Did I sound like a delivery man? Were you fooled? I bet you fell for it a little!" He rambles animatedly, closing the door behind him and taking off his shoes, leaving his jacket on. He rubs his hands for warmth and crosses into the threshold, immediately looking around the place. Sieun lets out a sigh, already feeling drained from the surplus energy radiating from Suho, who hadn't even properly stepped into his home yet already had so much to say.

"I didn't 'fall' for it—what was that voice for, anyway?" Sieun clicks his pen again, concealing the ever-lethal nib. How strange it would be to use stationery like that—well, the pen is mightier than the sword, but if your pen is your sword, what, then, would you compare its might to?

"Remember the day at the library before I left?" Sieun nods, watching as Suho makes himself familiar with his surroundings, inspecting the trophies and certificates that adorned the walls—not a single family picture in sight. Sieun nods, waiting for him to continue. "I told you I had to look for jobs—I wasn't lying; I really am looking for part-time jobs for Year 11—securing my future and all that." Sieun hums in mock understanding.

What did Suho mean by 'securing his future'? Was he saving up because he was intending to leave Seoul?

Sieun couldn't bring himself to ask any of his questions, so he settled on changing the subject. "Are you hungry? I can make something quick now, or we can work first and eat later." Suho looks over at him, smiling appreciatively, before shrugging his shoulders.