Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Shit! My plant’s going to die!” 

Jimmy Bae sat on his overly-emo couch, sighing. “Hwangmo Ju, the plant is not going to fucking die.” 

“You don’t know that.” Hwangmo looked more anxious than ever, which was quite the feat since the poor orange-haired boy always looked anxious. 

“Hwangmo, listen to me,” Jimmy didn’t even bother to get up from the couch. “The plant is going to live. Didn’t you feed it beer or something on the first day you got it?” 

“I was a first time plant parent!” Hwangmo protested. 

Jimmy ignored him. “And look! It’s still green and happy as ever. Just leave it alone.” 

After ten minutes of soaking in an obnoxiously orange, five-gallon Home Depot bucket, Bob the snake plant was once again looking happy as ever. Hwangmo sat criss-crossed on the hardwood floor across Bob’s now dripping form, staring at the plant as though his intense gaze would teach the plant some sense of self-preservation. 

You might be wondering why Hwangmo Ju was sobbing over a potted plant and why Jimmy felt as though he aged three lifetimes in two hours. Well, the answer is simple: they were on the meticulous, dreaded search for the perfect debate partner. 

If you are fortunate enough not to have experienced this horrendous task, Jimmy envies you. Hwangmo envies you. The entire partner-less (and searching) debate community envies you. This search, as Hwangmo so lovingly titled “TNEQFAGDP,” happens every year as debate students from around the country undergo a process quite like using the app "Tinder." The only difference is, instead of swiping left or right on various profiles featuring 6’2 men who drink cold beer and fish on weekends, you scroll on a strange profiling website and stalk other people’s debate stats before pestering them on Instagram. 

“There are no good single men,” Hwangmo lamented, spamming keys mindlessly and watching the webpage go up and down sporadically due to the onslaught of keyboard commands. 

“That’s gay as fuck,” Jimmy replied despite having similar luck. 

Hwangmo let out a heavy sigh, deflating in his seat. “I don’t understand why you won’t just be my partner! Our speaking styles work okay with each other, but you don’t want to do Parli!” He sunk further into his chair, stretching his legs out. “Then, you can suffer through the Unbeatable Duo with me!” 

“The Unbeatable Duo?” Jimmy questioned, incredulous. He wasn’t usually the type to get into college debate gossip, but this name sounded oddly familiar. 

“Yeah, that’s what they call Jake Ji and Wolf Keum,” Hwangmo explained. “They went undefeated the entirety of last year.” 

Wolf Keum. Jake Ji. “Yeah…I’ve heard of them.” 

“They’re destructive bitches…WAIT I THINK BOB IS WILTING!” Thus began the sobbing and the sighing and the aging faster than a normal young adult. Jimmy called it the “Reverse Benjamin Button Syndrome.” He told Hwangmo as such, to which he replied, “See? This is why we need to be partners next year.” 

Jimmy just made a face at Hwangmo. 

In complete honesty, Jimmy had no intentions to compete in debate at all. After his partner was forcibly taken away from him by his debate coach, all his appetite for tournaments suddenly vanished. 

“Just figure it out,” his coach had told him, leaving him with some novice named Jack Kang and a whole lot of resentment. Jack turned out to be a pretty chill guy, and Jimmy liked him a lot. But, they were a bad team, so Jack decided to go partner searching again and Jimmy was left to his own devices yet again. 

The never-ending search for a good debate partner, TNESFAGDP for short, is basically the process of creating a two-person Olympic team. Each partner must balance the other in one way or another to make the greatest, gold-trophy-deserved, debate team in human history. One such unbeatable team is the “Ji/Keum” team, AKA Jake and Wolf. The two of them were brutal in rounds as a team. Jake did verbal gymnastics around each team, and Wolf verbally beat each of the opposing views into oblivion until the poor team was close to tears. Jimmy has seen the both of them in their natural habitat before, and they were as wild as the Amazon Rainforest. National Geographic really needed to start doing research and making documentaries on crazy-good debate teams because of how strangely poised yet animalistic they act right in the environment they are most comfortable: behind a wooden podium next to a shaking freshman novice scared out of their minds. 

“Your point is lovely,” Jake chides during POI, “but…” He would then go on to obliterate the poor guy’s argument, friends, family, bloodline, ancestors, descendants, and future pets. Promptly, as if in some sort of secret gang collab with his partner, Wolf swoops in for the final kill in the next speech, leaving the poor, frightened novice team in tears. Another traumatized college freshman, another win for the unbeatable Jake-Wolf duo. Woohoo. 

…

“Jimmy please!” Hwangmo pleaded. “Nobody wants to partner with me and you’re my only hope.” 

“Like I said a million times, I’m not doing Parli again,” Jimmy huffed, copying another article URL into his Google document. 

“You’re my only hope–”

“Sounds like a you problem.” 

“It would be funny.” 

That caught Jimmy’s attention. He closed his laptop and looked up at Hwangmo, who was smiling triumphantly. “How would it be funny?” 

“Ever since Wolf and Jake have been crushing all these debates, Parli became Team Policy, which sucks,” Hwangmo explained. 

“Right.” 

“What I’m saying is,” Hwangmo sits up a bit straighter in his chair now. “They can win the debates, but we can make them slightly more interesting.” 

Jimmy crossed his arms and looked at Hwangmo incredulously. “Like how?” 

“Using our peak, God-tier humor, of course!” 

“What God-tier humor?” Jimmy deadpanned. 

“We’re funny.” 

“No, we’re not.” 

Hwangmo rolls his eyes. “Are you going to do it or not, man?” 

Jimmy ponders the question for a moment. “It’s a dumb idea, but okay.” 

Hwangmo blinked. “Okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll do it.” 

“Cool cool cool, man,” Hwagmo smiles lazily in a way that reminds Jimmy of Wolf Keum. It’s slightly unnerving, but makes sense since Hwangmo and Wolf went to the same high school. 

Turns out “cool cool cool man” meant that they really started RIGHT AWAY. The next day, Jimmy once again found himself in Hwangmo’s apartment, sitting on a couch with a desk in front of him like he was back in high school. Was their first debate tournament the next morning? Yep. Should they have impulsively signed up for the first tournament they saw? Nope, it was a terrible idea. Did they still do it? Absolutely. 

The prepping started bright and early. It would have started the day before if neither Hwangmo nor Jimmy had the penchant to procrastinate important events until the last minute. Hwangmo also took it upon himself to teach Jimmy all about their plan. If you could even call it that. 

“You get about thirty minutes to prep your entire two hour ish debate, and make it interesting,” Hwangmo said, smacking the whiteboard with her dry erase marker. “One thing that most teams fail at is the ‘interesting’ part. They’re so damn boring. We are here to revolutionize. We are here to make sure that the judges do not fall asleep. We are here to get as many knocks of agreement as possible within that short timespan that the whole room sounds like an Asian grandma’s cutting board on Lunar New Year. We are here to–”

“Wait,” Jimmy cut him off. “Can you…repeat that last one?” 

“We are here to make sure that judges do not fall–”

“No, the one after that.” 

“Asian grandmas?” 

“Yeah,” Jimmy pointed at the air. “That. Why is that the thing you decided to allude to?” 

“As if you can do any better,” Hwangmo protested. “It was all that I could think of at that moment.” 

“Psh.” 

“And,” Hwangmo added, “I’m doing it for you.” 

Jimmy huffed. “Yeah, that was because I don’t have a fucking partner anymore.” 

Hwangmo’s gaze softened sympathetically. Shit, Jimmy hated sympathy. Pity. All of it. “You’re still mad about it?” 

Jimmy nodded, looking away. “It’s dumb. They make a better team.” 

“Don’t say that,” Hwangmo cut him off. “You two made a great team.” 

“Yeah, so great that we didn’t even make it to nationals our first year teaming but they 6-0’ed every tournament.” 

Hwangmo placed a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Jimmy, it was your first year. Nobody expected you to be legendary.” 

“I should have been legendary,” Jimmy muttered. 

“It doesn’t matter what you should’ve been. Let’s look into the present, right? We’re going to win these. Kick butt.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Oh God, they were going to lose. 0-6. First tournament. Reputations tarnished. Careers ruined. 

…

“THE FREAKING PRINTER WON’T START!” Hwangmo hollered from the other side of the student lounge.

There they were, the new duo, Hwangmo and Jimmy, the first ones in the student lounge of the debate tournament area, one drinking coffee and the other trying to work the printer that they brought with them for last-minute printing jobs. 

“That’s your own fault for printing out your speech two hours before our first round.” Jimmy deadpanned. 

“FIX IT!” Hwangmo shoved the entire HP Color LaserJet Pro M477fnw MFP Refurbished into Jimmy’s arms. Jimmy smacked the printer and the printer began printing again. 

Then, as though the Universe recognized that the two were in a state of distress, Wolf and Jake walked through the heavy double doors, promptly making Hwangmo’s distress levels heighten by 120%.

“Shit,” Jimmy muttered. 

Jake, always the sweeter one, was the first one to approach them. “Hey, Jimmy, and, oh, who is this?” 

“That’s Hwangmo,” Wolf filled in for Jimmy, staring straight at the orange-haired boy. “Why are you here?” 

Jimmy looked uncomfortably between the two of them. He made rapid facial expressions that he hoped communicated ‘WHY THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW WOLF KEUM???!!’

Hwangmo just smiled nervously. “We’re debate partners this year. Me and Jimmy.” 

Wolf just narrowed his grey eyes. “Alright.” 

Jake came to the rescue. He clapped his hands together like a preschool teacher. “Well, it is so nice to see Jimmy debating again!” Wolf just kept staring at Hwangmo. 

The duo eventually leaves, heading toward the coffee machine.

“We’re going to fucking die. Wolf is out to kill me already,” Jimmy hissed at Hwangmo. “You first, apparently, but me too. And how the fuck do you know Wolf?” 

“We were friends in high school,” Hwangmo said as if that answered anything. 

“THE FUCK YOU MEAN YOU WERE FRIENDS IN HIGH SCHOOL?!” 

Their first round went pretty well, if not for the fact that Hwangmo took full advantage of Jimmy’s lacking ability to beat him up mid round. As the first speaker, Hwangmo headed to the podium with utmost confidence. He flipped his imaginary hair behind his shoulder, placing a flowpad in front of himself. “When I was twelve years old, I was introduced to the wondrous world of the internet.” And, they were off. 

Are imports or exports more valuable? Who knows. But Jimmy knew that Hwangmo was intentionally bashing his lacking love life, and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

“Jimmy, my lovely partner,” Hwangmo smiled evilly, “Has just as much ability to pick up girls as an army vet trying to pick up a banana after having both of his hands amputated.” 

They spent the rest of the round arguing through their speeches, since Jimmy couldn’t whack Hwangmo (and Hwangmo knew that Jimmy couldn’t whack him). Within the debate, these small (big) jabs became prevalent within their mostly serious speeches. Here are just a few examples: 

“We import more than we export because we have no products to export,” Jimmy said. “Much like how Hwangmo has no rizz to use on women and relies on insulting his partner instead.” Hwangmo gave him the middle finger under the table. 

Should being married be harder than getting divorced? 

“My partner Hwangmo is extremely knowledgeable about this topic, seeing as his front teeth are currently filing for divorce.” 

“As of the status quo, getting divorced is significantly more difficult than getting married, bringing significant detriments, such as increased stress and conflict between the two parties. In fact, it’s almost as difficult to get divorced as it is for Jimmy to get a girlfriend.” 

“Every seeing person has an early warning system called ‘eyes.’ Thus, keeping them open is essential for many tasks. Evidently, Hwangmo’s barber had their eyes closed when they were making his mullet.” 

“Jimmy’s first girlfriend probably also forgot this crucial fact, especially seeing as she decided to date Jimmy.” 

“Had Hwangmo followed through on his high school declaration to marry his first girlfriend, he would now likely find himself entangled in the arduous process of divorce. Unfortunately for his hypothetical spouse, current legislative frameworks render this process particularly onerous—both in terms of time and emotional labor. The prolonged timeline not only exacerbates psychological distress, but, in cases such as Hwangmo’s, imposes the added burden of extended proximity to an incompatible partner. Unfortunately, this is the reality for many unhappy couples, whose relationship didn’t work out. A study conducted in 2022…” 

“As you can see,” Hwangmo said in his final speech, glaring at Jimmy. “My partner really dislikes me. Because we are in a debate round, and because we are debate partners, I cannot file for divorce.” 

Jimmy wrote “go fuck yourself” on a post-it and slapped it on the podium. Hwangmo looked down, read the statement, and then crumpled the post-it note. 

… 

“Isn’t this fun?” Hwangmo asked after their fifth round of…Jimmy didn’t even want to call it ‘debate’ since the whole process was so scuffed. 

“Sure,” Jimmy admits. “It was only fun because I got to insult you the whole time.” 

“Gee thanks.” 

“Hey guys!” A voice butts in. It’s Jake, sipping his third latte of the day. Which is concerning since Jake usually has a lot of energy already, so the caffeine would probably just make it worse. Wolf was close behind him, glaring daggers at Hwangmo, who just waved nervously and smiled. 

“Hey,” Jimmy said. 

“How are rounds going for you guys?” 

“They’re going fine,” Jimmy felt his irritation rising. “Thank you very much.” 

Neither party spoke for a few seconds, before Hwangmo elbowed Jimmy in the ribs and gave him The Look. “What about yours?” Jimmy spat out eventually, glaring at Hwangmo. “Being undefeated as always?” he added. 

“Now I wouldn’t say that,” Jake replied, ending the conversation. 

When the duo finally left, Hwangmo whispered to Jimmy, “You’ve really got a problem with Jake?” 

“Hm?” Jimmy said. “No. No problems.” Then he turned to glare at Jake’s back. 

“Sure,” Hwangmo pretends to believe him, and then changes the subject. “One more round…?” 

…

“I believe this round would have more debating potential if it were ‘Resolved: Table debating should be banned,’ but we can’t have all the things we want in life.” Beginning bright and early, thus was the birthing of another wondrous debate round. And what better way to start the day than a poorly phrased and oddly specific speech given by Jimmy? 

Nothing. The answer is nothing. 

The ending ceremony concluded the tournament, and all teams received their ballots. Jimmy couldn’t help but feel just a little smug when he saw that they had won five rounds. Of the six. Last year, Jimmy peaked at 4-2. 

“Hilarious,” one judge wrote in Hwangmo’s notes, along with, “Your poor partner.” 

Jimmy pumped his arm in celebration. “Fuck yes! Take that, green fool–” 

“Hey guys!” Jake, stealthy as ever, popped out from behind the two of them and scared the living daylights out of Jimmy. “What did you guys get?” 

“We got 5-1,” Jimmy suddenly felt defensive about his score, arms crossing in front of his chest. 

He watched the corners of Jake’s mouth twitch. “Same, we got 5-1’ed. What a coincidence.” 

Once Jake left, Hwangmo turned towards Jimmy, twisting his fingers together. “Is he the green fool?” 

“No.” 

“Alright.”

Chapter Text

Despite what others may think, Jake Ji is a perfectly normal human being. That means he has his beef, crushes, and unhealthy obsessions just like everybody else.  

But people don’t think he’s a perfectly normal human being. Or, if they do, they don’t treat him like one.

“Learn the piano,” they tell him. So he does.

“Do debate,” they demand. So he does.

“Work harder. Get into nationals.”

So he does everything to meet their expectations. Everything. Everything if it means he can continue the legacy his brother left him. 

A few years ago, he asked his debate coach, Donald Na, a crazed-looking vampire of a man, “What should my goals be for this year?”

Donald took one look at him and laughed. “Get into nationals, of course. What else?”

“You’re a talented young man,” Donald continued. “You will be able to do it. Plus, you will make a name for our debate club!” Then, the coach thought a bit and quickly added, “And for yourself.”

“Yeah, but…” He tried to come up with some excuse. Some excuse to take the pressure off of himself. Anything. It wasn’t like he liked debating all that much anyway. “What if, what if I don’t have a good debate partner?”

“You do not even need to worry about that! Wolf will be your partner.”

“Wolf already has a partner.” 

“Not anymore.” 

…

“The great Jake Ji never gets 5-1’ed,” Jimmy huffed, hands pulling at his hair until the strands strained painfully against his scalp. 

“Ow,” Hwangmo said unhelpfully, “you’re blasting my eardrums.” 

They were on a call together. For debate debrief. What was supposed to be a debriefing session had quickly turned into a gossip session. Led by Jimmy Bae himself. 

“It’s true, though. Either they flopped so hard the judge couldn’t help but dock them points, or–” 

“Or they encountered a novice team whose only charm is the fact that their voices crack when they talk,” Hwangmo cut him off. “Both are possibilities. Because that’s what they are: possibilities.” 

“Or that,” Jimmy sulked, finding the nearest seat and sinking into it. “How strange. Oh, the high and mighty Jake Ji has fallen from his throne of endless glory to a cradle in the dirt like the reenactment of the entire fucking birth of Jesus Christ.” 

Hwangmo snorts in amusement from the other line. “Losing is a normal thing.” 

Jimmy hangs up. 

“It’s true,” came the text message from Hwangmo a few seconds later. 

“Fuck you,” came Jimmy’s reply. “Also I’m coming over.” 

It was a completely normal thing to have Jimmy just waltzing around in Hwangmo’s house. Or at least Jimmy tries to gaslight Hwangmo (unsuccessfully) into thinking that way. 

“What if I dye my hair blond, like just bleach it?” Jimmy stuck his hand into the bag of chips that he stole from Hwangmo’s cabinet. “Do you think that’s big enough of a change for him to notice me?” 

“Hm, I dunno,” Hwangmo intoned. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t dye my hair,” Jimmy concluded, examining his hair again. 

Hwangmo hummed. “Maybe not.” 

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Jimmy decided to speak again. “Do you think Wolf and Jake are dating?” 

Hwangmo didn’t even look up from his phone. “No, why.” 

“I dunno,” Jimmy shrugged, suddenly feeling very stupid. “Just…opposites attract and all that shit. And successful people attract successful…yknow.” 

“Mn.” 

…

The first time Jake Ji met Ben Park, he was paralyzed. Not literally paralyzed, but not so figuratively either. It was on the same day that Jimmy returned to the debate world. Jake still felt somewhat guilty about all of it. For some reason, Jimmy’s return with a completely new partner instead of Jack from last year, weighed something heavy on Jake’s heart, as if he were the cause of it. It felt strange, especially since Jimmy’s new partner, Hwangmo, was Wolf’s old friend. Wolf had told him such after the four of them had interacted during the most recent debate tournament. 

“Who is that?” Jake had asked. 

“Hwangmo,” Wolf replied, nonchalant as ever. The purple-haired boy was straightening his tie, looking somewhat murderous. Has he always looked so murderous? Jake reasoned that it was probably just Wolf’s face, though that’s a scary resting face to have. 

“Alright.” 

That weight, that sinking feeling, plagued him all day. To make matters even worse, someone in his friend group (probably Timothy) had convinced him to put gorilla glue on his shoes so that he could climb a wall. Unsurprisingly, it had dried too quickly and left Jake stuck in the middle of the hallway of a tournament location like an unfortunate sapling. 

The moment Jake found that he couldn’t move, all of his friends abandoned him, running snickering around the corner and out of sight. Which was just great. 

The downsides of finding yourself in this kind of situation is that anybody and everybody is able to find you at any time, and you would have no way to run away or escape their prying eyes. It’s also incredibly embarrassing and a terrible position to be stuck in, especially if a very hot and buff and handsome guy were to walk by. Seeing Jake’s usual luck, you can probably infer what happened. 

“Timothy! Guys?” Jake was calling. “This isn’t funny anymore.” Then, Jake heard footsteps. 

“Unstick me!” Jake called again, hoping that the footsteps belonged to his kinder friends, who were there to save him. 

When the footsteps began sounding right around the corner, Jake’s hopes went up. Maybe the people he hung out with often did have mercy on him, after all. 

Then, the person rounded the corner and Jake felt all of his blood rushing from his face, then back to his cheeks specifically. 

The guy that stopped at the end of the hallway, staring at Jake inquisitively, was probably the most gorgeous man Jake had ever seen. Tall, red-haired, buff, gentle-eyed, and Good Lord those biceps–

“Are you alright?” The guy’s voice broke through Jake’s thoughts. 

“Oh…yeah…wait huh?” Shortly afterward, Jake’s fumbling mouth managed to wrap itself around some incoherent vowels and consonants. 

‘He’s asking if you’re okay, idiot,’ Jake’s unhelpful brain supplied. 

“Yeah I’m good!” Jake finally said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just a bit…stuck.” He gestured to his shoes, which were still glued to the floor. 

“Right,” the guy laughed. His laugh sounded so sweet, so charming. This hot, red-haired, menace of a man was enough to give Jake three cardiac arrests. 

“I’m Jake,” Jake finally found the words to introduce himself. “Jake Ji.” 

“I’m Ben Park,” Ben said, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Jake Ji.” 

They chatted and took turns prying Jake’s shoes off the ground. “What made you think that this was a good idea?” Ben’s smile lit up the entire dingy hallway. 

Jake couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe three hours wasn’t enough time for sleep.” 

“Maybe not,” Ben agreed, looking at Jake with those warm copper eyes that made him want to kiss Ben and run away at the same time. 

Later that day, Jake was obliterated (in debate) by Ben and his partner, Gerard. But, for the first time in a long time, Jake didn’t feel that angry about the loss. In fact, it was almost freeing, alluring, addicting. Perhaps it was because it was such a good fight. Perhaps it was because it was against Ben. 

The entire rest of the night, even when he was supposed to be discussing debate strategy with Wolf, his mind was on the boy with the copper-red hair and glowing eyes. The next day, after a very uncomfortable sleep plagued by that handsome face, Jake did the only thing he knew how to do: research. And of course, he looked at the most credible website in the entire world, Wikihow. 

…

“What in the world are you reading, Jimmy?!” Hwangmo shrieked when he saw Jimmy’s screen. 

“There’s a hater in the house,” Jimmy muttered with an annoyed tone, though his ears flushed red. 

“I’m not hating,” Hwangmo clarified, “I’m just wondering why you have an article open titled ‘What to do when your debate opponent is strikingly hot.’” 

“It’s a common question,” Jimmy defended, popping a chip into his mouth. 

“I’d like to disagree with that contention.” 

“I don’t need to debate with you. You’re in my house.” 

“It’s a good practice to always be debating,” Hwangmo argued. “It adds to the 10,000 hours that it takes to master a subject.” Jimmy hated that it was a good argument. 

“Heaven knows I’m never mastering debate,” Jimmy said finally, a little salty. It was true. He was never going to master debate. Or, at least, that was what his coach implied when his original partner was taken away after his freshman year of uni. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hwangmo asked, completely clueless. 

Jimmy huffed, feeling more annoyed by the minute. “Do I need to spell it out for you?” He pointed a finger in the air. “I suck. I’m never getting much better than I am now.” At each word, he jabbed the finger as though poking the air would emphasize his point. 

“That’s not true. But we’re getting distracted. Your concern is about Wolf, is it not?” 

“Stop interrogating me.” ‘I hate how well you can read me,’ was left out. 

“So it is.” 

“No.” 

Jimmy’s words were few, and vague, but they told Hwangmo everything he needed to know. 

…

“What to do when your debate opponent is strikingly hot,” Jake read aloud. “What the hell?” 

Dean, Jake’s roommate, crossed the room to peer at Jake’s computer screen. After scanning the words, he sighed and turned away. “Must have been written by someone with too much time on their hands.” 

“What!” Jake exclaimed. “You’re telling me it’s not going to be helpful?” 

“Did you think it would be helpful?” 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Dean.” 

“It’s–”

“You should have just been named ‘mean,’” Jake continued. “It sounds close enough to ‘Dean’ anyway.” 

“Hello? I genuinely thought you would use some perception while you read articles online,” Dean said, looking quite affronted. “Who even took the time to write this kind of article? It’s basically useless.” 

“Wow. Why am I catching strays from my beloved roommate? I thought we were friends–”

“You can’t catch strays from someone who is directly shooting at you,” Dean replied. “Which is true for this scenario, and is called getting roasted.” 

Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. “You should join our debate club,” Jake said finally. 

“No thank you. Y’all are sweaty as fuck.” Jake felt positively offended at this statement. They were not ‘sweaty,’ thank you very much! 

“Does this count as catching strays now?” 

“Educate yourself on pop culture, please.” 

Jake frowned. “You know what? I will do that, actually. I’ll start by informing myself with a few more WikiHow articles.” 

Dean just let out a long-suffering sigh. “Please stop reading Wikihow articles.” 

…

“How to beat an ostrich,” Jimmy read aloud. “Seems interesting enough. Use–” 

“Use a long weapon.” Hwangmo’s voice boomed from the other room. 

““What-” Wayhem was shocked. “How did you know-”

Hwangmo cut him off. “Keep to the ostrich’s side!” he announced dramatically as he crept slowly out of the room. “Consider yourself most at risk when the two of you are FACE TO FACE!”

“Hwangmo, do you need help-”

Jimmy’s concerns were once again ignored. Hwangmo continued to dramatically recite the wikihow article by memory, this time adding body movements to accentuate the point that he was making. “Stay behind or to the side of the bird as much as possible to keep clear of its most POWERFUL WEAPON!” 

If only Hwangmo were this dramatic when they debated, maybe they would have gotten 6-0 instead of 5-1. Or perhaps, Hwangmo should sign up for an interpretive speech competition? “AIM FOR THE NECK!” Hwangmo exclaimed. “Consider this to be the ostrich’s weakest body part! Strike it where it is most vulnerable and least protected to defeat it quickly.”

…

“Aim for the neck? Where did that come from?” Wolf questioned, looking a bit insulted at the article Jake had sent him during their partner research meeting. 

“I’m trying to educate myself on pop culture.” 

“The fuck?”

Chapter Text

Jake swung his legs instinctively, the repetitive motion calming him down somewhat. Left. Right. Left. Right. The breeze blew his hair in all directions and brushed his nose and cheeks. 

“What are you thinking about?” Wolf asked him, appearing out of nowhere. 

Jake didn’t even have the energy to feel startled. He just continued to look forward, pensively, his eyes blank as though they were unseeing. “Just…thinking,” he replied vaguely, waving one hand next to his head in vague, organic circular motions. Then, he put his hand down and looked off into the distance like a sickly Victorian boy with sixteen different plagues and five sleep-paralysis demons. 

Wolf, ever the lacking therapist, made a face. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, “What would my therapist say to that again?” 

“You have a therapist?” 

“You’re avoiding my original question.” 

“Do you debate with your therapist too?” 

Wolf crossed his arms, looking at Jake with a strange look. Then, his face shifted. “That argument doesn’t work if I’m the one acting as the therapist.” 

“But do you?” 

“Do you debate with your therapist like you’re debating me while acting as a therapist in the scenario that involved therapy with many therapists and the therapist is counseling someone who needs a therapist–” 

“Stop, stop,” Wolf cut him off, “stop PLEASE. You are making no sense again.” 

It would be embarrassing to admit to Wolf of all people that he was thinking about their debate opponent, Ben Park. To add onto the embarrassment, Jake wasn’t even thinking about debate-related things. He was thinking of Ben’s eyes, his smile, his hair, his voice, his sweet sweet tone when talking to Jake. Jake should have been thinking of more important topics, like how Ben Park was the only person in three years to have beaten Jake Ji, and the only person in two years to have beaten him and Wolf. These were the kind of things that he should be pondering, especially with Wolf over at his house to discuss debate matters. Yet, his traitorous heart refused to even think about debate. 

“You’re thinking about Ben again, aren’t you?” Wolf smirked. “And his arms, and eyes and–” 

“Shut up!” 

“Wow,” Wolf drawled, “What a strong refutation. Oh, the great Jake Ji, master debater–” 

“Stop it,” Jake deflated, crossing his arms. 

“So you are.” 

“Stop looking so smug!” 

Wolf’s eyes were narrowed in amusement, and he leaned back against a pole calmly. His purple hair swayed cinematically in the wind, a stark contrast to the wind-blown hairstyle Jake now sported. “I’m not looking smug, per say,” Wolf started, looking nothing but smug. 

Jake made a face at Wolf. “I hate you.” 

…

Wolf’s hair had grown out. It’s been a long time since Hwangmo had last seen him. They were only in their third year of undergrad, but it feels like ages since senior year of high school. Seeing him again, especially in a debate setting, feels so unreal. Like, yes, Hwangmo had been attending the same tournaments as Wolf for the past few years. And yes, Hwangmo had physically seen Wolf there, seen the way the purple-haired boy grew and changed. But “back then” was different. Before, there was an invisible barrier between the two of them. Wolf had his picture-perfect team (after a year of experimentation) and always appeared on the leaderboard. Hwangmo was just doing whatever the hell Hwangmo did during tournaments. Not to mention the fact that, indeed, Hwangmo and Wolf did two different debate events. 

This year, though? Seeing Jimmy in so much distress all of the previous year grated on Hwangmo’s nerves. Not in a mean angry way, but in a sad, “I just want to see my friend happy again.” Jimmy had been so down after his partner was forcibly taken away from him and, after yet another failed partnership, Jimmy looked just about ready to call it quits for debate. Maybe having a friend who initiates the partnership, rather than the other way around, would make Jimmy more inclined to stay. Just one more year. So Hwangmo broke that invisible barrier, and Wolf noticed him. 

Hwangmo could not get Wolf’s expression out of his head. The expression that Wolf made when he first saw Hwangmo next to Jimmy. It was a look of surprise…and something else. Almost a conflicted look. Hwangmo didn’t know what to make of this expression, and it had been plaguing his thoughts for the past few days. 

Needless to say, he didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. Or the nights since Wolf’s face first began to dominate his mind. 

Uni was business as usual. Hwangmo went to his Physical Therapy training classes, then to the gym, then to yet another anatomy-adjacent class. Everything was fine. Wolf was waiting at the door of his second class of the day, staring him down. Everything was suddenly NOT fine. 

“Hey…Wolf,” Hwangmo greeted awkwardly when he realized he couldn’t just ignore Wolf’s piercing stare. “What a coincidence.” 

“I know your schedule, Hwangmo,” Wolf replied, looking at Hwangmo with that strange, conflicted look again. Okay, that wasn’t at all creepy. Nope. Who said anything about creepy? Or scary? Or even mildly disturbing–

Wolf’s voice cut off his thoughts. “I can hear your brain cranking, Hwangmo.” He leaned back against the wall, sporting his usual cocky ‘I’m better than you’ smirk. 

The orange-haired boy coughed nervously. “Are you looking for…Jake? I don’t know where Jake is.” At Wolf’s unimpressed stare, Hwangmo rushed to correct himself. “Uh, I dunno, perhaps you’re looking for Jimmy? I don’t know why you would be wanting to see Jimmy but I can text him for you–” 

Wolf hums, his grey eyes unreadable. “No need,” he cut Hwangmo off with a graceful wave of his hand. “I’ve found the person I’m looking for.” 

Hwangmo felt all the blood he had in his body rushing to his cheeks. What. He told Wolf as such. “What.” he stated, face blank but flushed. 

“Is it really that hard to believe I want to see my friend?” Wolf looked at him with a pointed gaze. He looked almost accusatory, his grey eyes challenging Hwangmo to prove him otherwise. 

“No, no, not at all,” Hwangmo stammered. “It’s just been so long.” 

“It has. I kind of miss our high school years.” 

“Me too.” 

Later, Hwangmo found himself sitting in front of Wolf Keum, small ice cream cup in hand (Wolf had paid for it using his tournament money and bullied Hwangmo into accepting the treat), wondering what in his life went wrong (or right) for him to end up in such a situation. 

“I saw you with Wolf earlier today,” Jimmy commented later that day, during their nightly debate prep sessions. 

Hwangmo shrugged. “Yeah, he just kinda appeared.” 

“That’s cool. He visited me too.” 

“Cool.” 

…

Jake waved at Ben when the red-haired boy first came into his study. Or rather Wolf’s study room (which he conquered and settled in via emotional manipulation). He was doing some research for his newest interpretative speech (the ones you have to act out dramatically like you’re doing a one or two man theater). Ben Park, the king of interp speeches, was the best logical option for a coach. Of course, he could have just asked Wolf, but he didn’t want to. Ben’s presence just sparked some pleasant, unnamable feeling that Wolf couldn’t even try to create. It made him feel comfortable and, though he hates thinking this, loved. 

He made Jake feel like he belonged somewhere. He laughed at all of Jake’s jokes, even the ones that weren’t so funny. Jake had never experienced such unfiltered affection before, ever. And frankly, he had no idea what to do with it. 

Ben Park. It was Ben’s image running through his mind when he couldn’t sleep at night, and Ben in his dreams when Jake did sleep. The copper-haired boy appeared like the lovable protagonist of a Studio Ghibli film, hair-blowing left in the wind and everything. 

Jake wanted to live the fantasy that Ben walked, touch the grass, and feel his hair, and–

Maybe he was getting too carried away. Good things never last anyway, at least not with Jake. Dating Ben, or even getting close with him, was an unfulfillable fantasy that belonged in Jake’s mind and Jake’s mind only. 

…

“Please save me from whatever the hell this is.” 

This very message was placed annoyingly at the very top of Wolf’s phone notifications the moment he woke up. He stretched his arms before reaching for his phone. 

“Grey Yeon,” Wolf muttered aloud, a bit surprised. Gray never initiated conversations with Wolf. He had gotten Wolf’s number purely out of necessity, since Ben had insisted on coming over to his house to work on something with Jake. When Wolf complained and told them that they should be going to Jake or Ben’s house instead, Jake employed one (1) Gray Yeon to blackmail Wolf into allowing for the date. 

“Thanks Wolfie,” Jake had chortled when Wolf opened the door with an expression that was far from happy. “We love you.” Ben walked in a few seconds after Jake, and at least had the decency to look a bit sheepish. 

Wolf sighed at the memory, albeit feeling a bit fond toward his debate partner. Then, he glanced back at his phone. “Please save me from whatever the hell this is,” Gray had texted him. 

“What do you mean?” Wolf replied. 

“Ben is pining over your stupid partner and it’s getting disgusting.” 

“Not my problem.” 

“Wolf Keum.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“So you’ll do it?” 

Wolf scowled. That manipulative bitch. “What do you need?” he typed finally. 

“Cafe. 10 AM. Do not be late or else say goodbye to your balls.” Because Wolf quite liked having balls, he showed up to the fucking cafe. He couldn’t believe he was being bullied by the most emo-looking kid in their university. Why couldn’t it have been, say, the best fighter in their uni? Or the best athlete? Or, at least, the best debater? Though, Wolf would rather not be facing Donald at the moment. Perhaps Gray Yeon is the better option, emo or not. 

That doesn’t mean Wolf didn’t take the opportunity to complain annoyingly about having to meet Gray, in front of the man himself. “I can’t believe I’m getting bullied by the most emo-looking kid in our university,” Wolf said, glaring at one (1) Gray Yeon. The silver-haired boy was infuriatingly already in his seat, looking as put together as ever. He didn’t bother to dignify Wolf with a reply either. Wolf took a seat across from Gray, looking at him expectantly to start speaking. 

“Ben is acting strange, and I think he wants to kiss your partner,” Gray said matter of factly once Wolf sat down. 

“Sounds about right,” Wolf replied, leaning back in his seat. “And it seems that none of your little books are helping with the spontaneous and incredibly stupid nature of college-age love. The authors are nerds like you, right? They have no idea what talking to a woman who isn’t a loser is like, correct? It’s annoying you, isn’t it? The lack of answers? That your brain isn’t giving you any clues as to what is going on in that meathead Ben Park’s mind?” 

“Stop trying to psychoanalyze me.” 

“So I’m right?” 

“Partially,” Gray said, which was as close to a concession as Wolf could get. Wolf would take that win with his head held high. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call Ben a meathead, though. He did beat you just last tournament, oh great Wolf Keum. It seems as though your ego has once again soared beyond comprehension. Just because half the university population wants to fuck you doesn’t mean you’re cooler in any way. It just means you seem like a reproductively-successful human being.” 

“True again,” Wolf reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small notebook which had its bottom right corner of the plastic cover folded just slightly upward. “Start telling me something new. Right now you’ve just been stating things that are already proven to be fact.” 

“Such as?” 

“I’m hot and have a big dick. Ben and Jake want to do mouth to mouth CPR without the CPR. Ben and Jake are both going about their crushes in unproductive and frankly strange ways. You want me to push Jake and Ben into a room and lock the door in a way that our madman genius Jake Ji can’t unlock so the two adjacently-orange-haired people who are in love with each other can talk out their feelings.” Wolf said all of this with lazy waves of his left hand to the beat of his voice, which was clutching his slowly decaying notebook. 

Gray looked at him, completely unamused. His eyes were lidded and both eyebrows were slightly raised, as though challenging Wolf to say another word. “You’re remotely there,” Gray said finally, clasping his hands together. Then, in true Gray Yeon fashion, he quoted something he researched online. “I had a stroke trying to understand that,” Gray recited. The silver-haired boy with purplish eyes was quite the terrifying guy, considering his height and stature, quite unlike Hwangmo, who was easily anxious despite his height and stature. His eyes looked vaguely like watered-down purple detergent in the sun. Wolf would love to pick his brain some time when Wolf’s balls weren’t on the line. 

“What has your genius brain developed this time?” 

“A plan?” At least Gray had some kind of expression on his face this time: vague amusement. “That’s why I brought you here. I didn’t want to waste my time on this so I’m passing the responsibility to you. Thank you in advance.” Gray stood up, bowed, and walked away. 

“Yo what the fuck?” 

A few minutes later, Wolf received another slightly threatening text from one (1) Gray Yeon: “If you don’t get the two of them together by the end of next week, say goodbye to one or both of your balls.” 

“Well fuck you too.” 

“Take me out to dinner first. ✌️”

Chapter Text

The next district-wide debate tournament was finally approaching. It felt like ages ago since the last one (a whole three chapters ago, actually). Expectedly, many things have changed since then. Hwangmo’s weekly meetings with Jimmy became daily occurrences. Jimmy tried to tell himself that these daily meetings were just to strengthen their partnership bond and strategize, but, who was he kidding? They do parli. There’s not much strategizing that can be done. What they were really there to do was to discuss bizarre ideas and also complain about how hot Wolf Keum was. Or more like Hwangmo brings up Wolf’s attractiveness and Jimmy begrudgingly agrees. Begrudgingly. 

Hwangmo stands up suddenly from his place on the sofa. The two of them had just spent another one of their meetings at Hwangmo’s room doing nothing. “At this point,” he said, “we should just do another partner event. Since we have so many partner meetups anyway.” 

“Why?” 

“Why not?” Fair enough. “We should do a speech event.” Nevermind. 

“Ew, speech.” 

So that’s how Jimmy found himself roped into yet another event. The two of them created a binder labeled “Duos,” since duo interpretation was the only two-person speech event their district offered. 

Duo interp, for short, was basically an acting speech event. Minus the props. And minus the four to five other people who are meshed into one person metaphorically switching caps every few seconds. The person making this speech event must have been like, “hey, so, like, what if we had theater but on CRACK?” Because that’s what it was. A competitive speech event where two performers acted out a piece of literature. Anything from a dramatic play to a badly self-written short story was up for grabs. Acting had to be either incredible or reminiscent of a demon possession, with no in between.

“This script is so incredibly stupid,” Jimmy commented, staring at the word-vomit-esque play that the two of them wrote in the span of two hours. 

“That’s why it’s good,” Hwangmo said, sounding as delusional as a bird…that is delusional. 

“Why did you decide to use my temporary, one-day WikiHow obsession as inspiration?” 

“To spite you.” 

Jimmy thought a bit, then shrugged. “That checks out.” 

When the day of the tournament finally came, Jimmy and Hwangmo strode into their competition room side-by-side, debate bag in one hand and the most unserious duo interp script in the other, looking smug (Hwangmo) and ready to jump off the face of the Earth (Jimmy). Several heads whipped around. Many of said heads belonged to people who they had beaten in parliamentary debate during the prior tournament. The rest just vaguely knew who Hwangmo was, which was an interesting statistic. Then was the outlier: Jake and Wolf. 

“Why the fuck is Wolf here watching duo interps?!” Jimmy whisper-yelled to Hwangmo. 

“Just don’t worry about it. Treat them like any other audience member.” Despite his comforting words, Hwangmo himself looked a bit stressed out, the boy’s wide black eyes darting across the room at a rapid pace. Then, their names were called, and the two of them made the walk of shame to the front of the room. Jimmy glanced at the audience, his eyes landing on the distinct purple hair belonging to Wolf. Wolf looked right back at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Don’t even think about looking at him,” Hwangmo snapped quietly, slapping Jimmy on the arm. 

“Shit! Why you got to–” 

The judge’s timer beeped, Hwangmo regained his posture (with Jimmy following quickly behind), and they were off. “What should you do when you push more than you pull?” And they were off. Good riddance to what was left of Jimmy Bae’s reputation. He thought it had hit rock bottom until it took out a shovel and began digging. Every day, they were hitting new lows. 

“There are only two ways someone can respond when you corner them after a speech or debate event saying ‘shawt-eyyy, are you an airplane?” Hwangmo paused dramatically, looking at the audience with an impressively seductive look. “Cause you’re looking fly tonight.” He points to Jimmy. 

Jimmy forced his face to go blank, dropping his jaw slightly, grasping for words like a fish out of water until he said, “Oh.” 

“Orrrrr,” Hwangmo prompts Jimmy again. 

“That’s cute,” Jimmy intoned with as much sass as his body could muster before walking away from Hwangmo. 

“So what do you do?” Hwangmo questions the crowd, eyes wide and distraught. “What do you do when your debate opponent is strikingly hot?” Due to Hwangmo’s perpetually anxious nature, one without the prior knowledge that Hwangmo was acting, may incorrectly assume that Hwangmo was actually distressed. It was impressive, to say the least. Jimmy felt at least a bit of envy, but also immense amounts of pride. 

“Welcome to your emergency guide!” Jimmy said brightly, like a commercial. 

“My debate opponent is hot.” Hwangmo’s shoulders sagged as he said this. “Strikingly hot. Devastatingly hot. Like, ruin my brain, destroy my flow type hot.” 

“Breathe, debater,” Jimmy consoled the ‘worried romantic.’ “This happens to roughly seventy-eight percent of participants.” 

“That’s not a real statistic.” 

“See this is why you’re single.” 

“What–”

Jimmy cut him off. “Step One! Recognize the threat. Accept this new reality. Across the table from you sits someone who looks like, from a biological standpoint, a person who would be reproductively successful.” 

“Reproductively successful?” Hwangmo questioned. 

“Exactly! Ding ding ding.” He patted Hwangmo’s back aggressively, causing the other boy to stumble over just slightly. “The more you remove your emotions from this situation, the farther you remove your brain from being fogged by his steaming hot gaze. Then, you should recite ‘I can see this paper. I can see my hand. I can’t hear the screaming of thousands. I can’t hear the feast. I am a moving, breathing human being on planet Earth.” 

“Um, Jimmy,” Hwangmo implored hesitantly. “I think you’re saying the wrong phrases.” 

“Oh? I am? Excuse me. Step two.” 

“Um, we’re moving on to step–”

Jimmy ignored him. “Step two! Channel the energy. You are not in a romantic comedy. Maintain professionalism. Avoid smiling too much. Their rebuttal voice does not sound like jazz. Channel your attraction and move the energy towards hatred.” 

“Like this?” Hwangmo asked, “They smiled during their rebuttal. How dare they weaponize joy.” 

“Exactly!” Jimmy jumped up. “You loathe it.” 

“They work out but they still won’t carry a conversation with me,” Hwangmo started. After a pause, Hwangmo spoke again. “But what if I want to shoot my shot?” 

Jimmy was quick to answer. “Great question! Step three! Flirt, but make it subtle. You should always flirt when you’re congratulating them after a round. A little flirtation can go a long way in getting them interested and creating some sexual tension.” He rolled his shoulders back in a millennial ‘cool mom’ style, smirking at the audience. He made eye contact accidentally with Wolf, who winked at him. Extremely seductively. Jimmy quickly looked away. 

“Start with some debate pleasantries, like ‘Heyyy how was the round for you guys?’” Hwangmo said. 

“Or hit them with a compliment,” Jimmy continued. “Post-round diplomacy.” 

“Hey, uh, good round…your ethics were–” 

“Nope!” Jimmy waved his hand sharply, cutting Hwangmo off. “Try again.” 

Immediately, Hwangmo began his stuttering. “You debated me…I mean, you debated, well yes you debated! I mean I want you to debate…kiss me…that’s not it either–”

“You’re hopeless.” 

“I’m trying!” 

“Try harder!” 

After a few seconds of unsuccessful sentences, Jimmy finally put on his ‘I’m done’ face. But, when he looked at Hwangmo and saw the other guy’s disappointed look, Jimmy immediately softened his expression. 

“It’s okay, I know it’s difficult,” Jimmy said, glancing at Hwangmo. “Just keep in mind that making moves on someone is putting yourself out there in a vulnerable position. It’s normal to feel underprepared, scared or nervous.” 

“There’s a lesson you learn,” he continued, “that when sharing yourself with someone, there’s a chance of getting hurt. And often, that prevents us from wanting to shoot our shots. Or feel incredibly scared when doing so.” He looked down. Dang, he never realized how much feels they placed into the play. And how close it hit to home. 

“To say this is me,” Hwangmo picks up again, placing both hands to his heart and looking at the judge with such heart-felt vulnerability that even Jimmy forgot (for a few seconds) that they were doing the world’s most stupid duo interp and not some heartbreak dating advice play. 

“Which is why you need to add variety!” Jimmy, who had slipped behind Hwangmo during the quiet moment, popped up from behind. “Step four! Use a pomegranate!” 

“Use a pomegranate?” Hwangmo repeated. 

“Yes! Pomegranates have been scientifically linked to boosting a man’s sex drive,” Jimmy explained. “If he’s not the pomegranate champagne type, you could always try a cocktail if he’s classy–” He pointed at Hwangmo, both hands circling as though prompting the orange-haired man to think about other possibilities of pomegranate products. 

Hwangmo squeezed his eyes shut as though in deep concentration. “Right! You could try a mocktail if he’s sassy.” 

“Or even a Bath and Bodyworks candle if he’s just…weird,” Jimmy finished. 

“So this is it?” Hwangmo asked finally. “This is the complete guide on what to do when your debate opponent is strikingly hot?” 

“Of course! What else could I be missing?” 

“Encouragement? Further advice? What should I do if he says yes? What should I do if he says no?” 

Jimmy clasped his hands together. “Right! You can do it!” 

“That’s it?” Hwangmo asked. “That’s the only encouragement you could think of? How are you a love guru but still alone–” 

“And it looks like that is all for our time today!” Jimmy quickly cut him off, placing a hand slightly over Hwangmo’s mouth (since they couldn’t make physical contact during their speech). “Thank you for listening.” 

The two of them bowed unceremoniously as the crowd clapped politely. Jimmy stalked back to his seat, sat down, and then struggled with the overwhelming urge to fake a phone call and relocate to Mars for the next hour of the event. The uninhabitable places were looking mighty appealing all of a sudden. 

At least some people laughed.

Chapter Text

Jake was so glad he went to watch Hwangmo and Jimmy’s speech that day. It was incredibly life changing. The most life changing. It opened his eyes to so many possibilities! It was almost as though the universe had been hearing his prayers. What to do when your debate opponent is strikingly hot? That was exactly the predicament Jake was facing right at this moment! 

Jake stood gaping at the debate round postings taped to the wall. Jake Ji/Wolf Keum vs. Ben Park/Gerard Jin. He could not believe this was happening right now. It’s almost as though Hwangmo and Jimmy were psychics!  

“We’re going against Gerard and Ben,” Jake told Wolf, emphasizing the word ‘Ben.’ 

“Mhm,” Wolf responded, dry as ever. 

“Hey, come on now partner,” Jake jabbed Wolf with his elbow, “show some enthusiasm! We’re debating one of the strongest teams in the nation.” 

“You mean in our district.” 

“Same difference.” 

“It’s actually quite incredibly different.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Jake said cheerily, flipping Wolf off. Then, he paused. “What was the first step again?” 

That caused Wolf to look up. “What first step?” 

“The first step of ‘what to do when your debate opponent is strikingly hot,’” Jake rolled his eyes, because duh. 

“What the fuck.” 

“Oh right! Reproduction. AKA, in more crude terms, ‘fucking.’ You’re so smart.” Jake beamed while Wolf just looked at him with concern. Jake took that as his ‘go ahead’ signal to continue by reciting what he had memorized from Jimmy and Hwangmo’s speech. “Across the table from you sits someone who looks like, from a biological standpoint, a person who would be reproductively successful.” 

“Jake, do you need help?” 

“Always,” Jake laughed before he continued. “The more you remove your emotions from this situation, the farther you remove your brain from being fogged by his steaming hot gaze.” 

Before he could continue any further (out loud, mind you), Wolf dragged his yapping partner toward their designated debate building. 

“What are you even going on about?” Wolf asked finally once they reached their debate room. “Also you’re heavy.” 

“I’m not fat. I was reciting Hwangmo and Jimmy’s speech.” 

Wolf thought for a moment. “Oh yeah, that speech.” 

“Isn’t it just the most wonderful speech? I now have the courage to approach Ben.” 

There was a moment of silence. Wolf opened his mouth as though to speak yet not knowing what he was going to speak of just yet. Finally: “You do?” Wolf blinked. 

“Yup!” Jake replied. 

Then, Wolf began laughing. Jake had never seen Wolf laugh this hard in his life. Whatever Jake had done, it must have been so stupid or so incredibly out of character that it tickled Wolf to pieces. It was lowkey offensive. The purple-haired boy started clutching the wall for support as his laughter continued. “Oh god, this is so golden,” Wolf gasped out when his laughter finally died down. “Shit, I’ve gotta treat the both of them to something. Coffee? Hwangmo hates coffee. I’ll take them shopping or something. Holy shit. They did my job for me. My balls are safe.” 

“Your job? What job? What was threatening your balls?” Jake asked, confused. “Also stop swearing; the judge is one door away.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Wolf pat Jake on the shoulder. “Also I’ll never stop swearing. Fuck you.” 

Just then, both Ben and Gerard walked up to them, Ben with the most infuriatingly pretty grin on his face. “Hey Jake!” Ben waved enthusiastically at Jake. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing fine!” Jake said, ignoring Gerard and Wolf’s shared looks at him and Ben. What were they even looking at? There was nothing to look at. 

Step 2. Channel the energy. 

Jake decided to channel his energy to staring very intently at Ben’s face. With hateful intent, of course. “How dare he weaponize his jawline? That’s a strawman fallacy,” Jake muttered under his breath. Wolf just nodded as though he had any clue what was going on. 

Step 3: Flirt, but make it subtle. 

Jake and Wolf got absolutely destroyed that round. Ben was just a freak of nature. A hot freak of nature. Wolf hated losing, but Jake was indifferent to losing. Especially if it was losing against Ben. “Good round,” Jake said, and then winked afterward. He was too good at this flirting thing. 

“Do you have…something in your eye?” Ben asked, concerned, his hand paused mid-handshake. Jake deflated. “I can help you get it out.” Jake inflated again. 

“Yes, please,” Jake smiled innocently, batting his eyes. Then, Ben leaned forward and oh god Jake could feel his breath and see his eyes and all of his pores up close. It was too much all at once, and he forgot how to breathe. Jake felt heat slowly and very quickly creeping up his neck. Fuck. 

Step four: Use a pomegranate. 

Ben took a step back once he confirmed there was nothing in Jake’s eye, and Jake quickly shut down the part in his mind that wanted to pull Ben back. “Thank you,” Jake said quickly. In the corner of his eye, he saw Wolf gagging. What a hypocrite. Wolf had literally blushed just a few hours ago when Jimmy made eye contact with him during the interp. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ben said all too cheerily. 

“Oh I must repay you,” Jake said quickly before he pulled out a whole pomegranate. “Here.” He pushed the fruit into Ben’s arms. Ben looked equal parts confused and delighted, which Jake found to be most amusing. 

Wolf looked on with mild disgust and genuine concern all mixed into one. “We gotta go,” the purple-haired boy said quickly before dragging Jake away by the forearm. 

“Bye Ben! We should go on a date!” Jake called out while he was being dragged away.