Bright and early classes were only made slightly better by Jiyoon's diminished antagonism toward Danny. It was still accounting, after all, and it was still school. But when he wasn't in class (or in group, soaking up Jiyoon's tutoring), Danny tried to occupy one of the practice rooms with every extra moment.
There was one in particular in the basement of the music building that was rarely taken. Danny lurked there doing homework, practicing chords, writing lyrics, and planning song arrangements. He and the rest of the band orbited around that room, their second home base.
Their dedication was fueled by the fact that Erika was a woman of her word. She had set it up so that they would open for a band called Apocalypse How the next week. The crowd was going to be twice the size of any that had ever shown up for one of their shows, and The Trouble was getting a fat paycheck. Danny was euphoric.
So euphoric that he managed to miss study group one day, or at least, he mostly missed it—he was dicking around in the music room, and by the time he looked at the clock it was way too late to imagine walking in and suffering Jiyoon's withering stare.
Soon he didn't have to imagine it, though, because there was a knock on the door and then Jiyoon poked his head in. Danny's fingers made an embarrassing twang on the guitar strings.
"Hey, there…"
"Well, there you are." Jiyoon shut the door behind him and sighed. "First of all, don't make fun of me."
"Whatever, Dad."
"Second of all, why didn't you come to group today?" Jiyoon was unflappable. He stood in front of Danny, arms crossed, with one eyebrow cocked. Danny felt an inexplicable desire to kneel.
He strummed a chord instead. "I was practicing. Lost track of time. 'M sorry," he added belatedly.
"I could've guessed as much." Jiyoon sat down next to him, legs crossed and hands laced together in his lap. "Danny, I know you don't like this class, but I would really like you to pass it."
Suddenly, Danny felt awful for disappointing him. "I know, and you're awesome. You're better than Weaver, but—"
"Flattery gets you nowhere."
"I'm serious! I'm really sorry. I just lost track of time, and I knew you'd be pissed at me."
"Well, you didn't show up and here I am, still pissed."
"Yeah…"
"Do you have your work on you, at least?"
Danny put the guitar down and pulled out his accounting worksheets, which Jiyoon glanced over with a critical frown. Then he looked at his watch and sighed.
"What?"
"Did you have dinner plans?" Jiyoon flipped through the papers as he spoke, his tone light.
Danny grinned. "Why are you asking?"
"Curiosity." Jiyoon raised his gaze and gave Danny a nearly flat smile. "Are you hungry?"
"You're not offering to do my homework for me over dinner, are you?"
"No, I'm offering to watch you do your homework while I enjoy a meal." Jiyoon stood up and handed the papers back. "Would you like to come over?"
"Isn't that illegal?" Danny joked.
"Well, I'm not planning on fucking you." At the careless, casual use of the word fuck, the back of Danny's neck prickled. Even Jiyoon was blushing, as if surprised it had come out of him. He cleared his throat. "But. If I help you outside of group, it should probably stay between us. And your roommates, I suppose."
That was how Danny discovered that Jiyoon wasn't half-bad as a cook. He made Danny sit at the small, neat table in his apartment and work through the problems aloud while he whipped up a pasta that Jiyoon insisted looked more complicated than it actually was.
They took a dinner break, and then Jiyoon leaned at his side while Danny finished the last few problems on the worksheet. Danny promptly collapsed face-first on the table with a groan when they were done.
"I'm free."
"Hmm." Jiyoon picked up the worksheet and mouthed numbers to himself as he went down the list of problems. Then he sighed. "Danny, take another look at number six…"
"What? But I—" He stopped as he saw Jiyoon's solemn face crack into the barest hint of smile.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. You looked so desperate."
"Asshole!" Danny spun around to face him. Jiyoon was laughing behind his hand. "Oh, you're lucky I'm so damn nice. What do I owe you?"
"I make fifteen dollars an hour, usually."
"You accept payment in song, right?"
"Under no circumstances. But you can help me with the dishes." Jiyoon shot him a grin and whisked their empty plates away to the sink.
Jiyoon was up to his elbows in soapy water, and Danny dried the plates, pots, pans, and silverware, watching the arch of Jiyoon's neck as he bent over the sink. The droplets of water dragged down his forearms, just under where his shirtsleeves were pushed up. It was comfortable. Something about this fit.
They ended up perpendicular on the bed, because Jiyoon didn't have a couch and it was the only proper place to sit and watch the dinky TV Jiyoon had set up on a shelf. Jiyoon had found out that he'd never seen Friday Night Lights, and insisted that he needed to at least watch the pilot.
"It’s about football," Danny whined. "That's the least punk rock thing ever."
"What happened to getting outside your comfort zone?"
"That was about music." Still, he stayed and let Jiyoon rearrange ten pillows on the wall behind them. "Maybe next time we watch a movie we can do it at my place. We've got this thing called a couch."
"One couch for your whole band plus me?"
"I'll kick them out."
"That's a good way to make enemies." Jiyoon settled into pillow pile, and Danny self-consciously reclined next to him. "How long have you been together?"
"Uh, three years total? We met Lei and Vick at school. They're both sophomores."
"Oh, so they're declaring their majors soon."
Danny hadn't really thought about it. "Sure, I guess. And Sam and I've known each other since we were kids."
"That long?"
"Yeah, you should've seen how many shitty bands we started in middle school. Oh man. If things had gone differently, I would totally be in a metal band."
"I didn't realize how lucky I am," Jiyoon said, and Danny scoffed and elbowed him. "What stopped you?"
"Uhh, let's just say my parents feel the same way about metal that you do, and they started buying me literally any other CDs."
"So I owe them."
Danny laughed. "Thanks, Mom and Dad, for getting me into slightly more marketable music."
"You do think about that kind of thing." Jiyoon was giving him a smile that Danny couldn't quite place. What it meant Danny never found out, because the next scene was important. "Oh, here, pay attention—"
Danny was dimly aware of Jiyoon turning the lights off at some point. His head fell onto Jiyoon's shoulder and his eyes sagged closed. Then he drooled and shot awake again, muttering apologies. There was Jiyoon's light laughter again, and Jiyoon saying, "It's okay," which meant, what? That Danny could drool on him as much as he wanted?
He settled for curling up at the far side of the bed while Jiyoon was in the bathroom, and shut his eyes while he waited for Jiyoon to kick him out.
Danny woke up fully clothed, with the sun streaming yellow through the window, and the nape of Jiyoon's neck a hand's length from his face, and he thought, this is nice.