it’s probably something he shouldn’t do so often, sending cryptic messages to jiyul without thinking of the implications lying underneath the ominous texts he had sent out. he can’t help himself though, hyunjae doesn’t usually ask something of someone, it feels weird and out of character. he’s still trying to get used to it.
ideally, he wouldn’t need to make jiyul worry that he set the kitchen on fire or something, but if the older’s brain reaches that far—well, that’s not on hyunjae, is it? he doesn’t control what jiyul is going to think and assume. you could argue that he has control over his texts, but he never really thinks before he sends his messages anyway.
he turns his head towards jiyul, looking at the older with interest. “you thought, what?” he’s a little curious, but jiyul drops the topic as soon as he brought it up, so hyunjae doesn’t press on. yet. “i just started playing today. but i haven’t lost yet, so maybe you have a right to be worried.” there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. does this mean victory is secured?
beating jiyul so quickly on the first round won’t be all that fun, so of course he agrees to the practice round with a nod. he lets jiyul get familiar with the controller, quickly choosing bowser, the real hero of the game, according to the many theories he has watched. fuck mario.
“i had a schedule today that got cancelled. so here i’ve been playing this since the afternoon.” he briefly explains, leaving out the part where he was convinced to play the game because he got called a workaholic. “are you eyeing waluigi? i thought you’d go with toad. he suits you. soft and kind of lackey-like. oh, that sounds kind of like luigi too, but toad is cuter.”
he takes a curious glance at jiyul. “what does that mean? wasn’t i being specific?”
the only game he’s played actively is a mobile game where you take care of stray cats. that’s literally it—and most of the cats are easy to please. there’s zero challenge aspect to the game, and it’s therapeutic at best. though he’s recently started to dabble with the harvest moon franchise, even that’s for leisure at best.
all that considered, he can already tell that mario kart might be beyond his area of expertise—especially when he’s feeling a little lost at the character selection scene alone.
“you should have called me over earlier then,” jiyul murmurs, half-paying attention to hyunjae and half-focusing on the screen. he moves his curses back and forth between waluigi and toad with much deliberation. “i was just repotting my plants all day,” he explains, belatedly. he thinks he’ll settle on waluigi out of sheer pity alone until hyunjae interjects with his own “wisdom.” “lackey-like?” jiyul repeats, frowning out of habit. “whose lackey am i? yours?” he selects toad anyway. “i just felt bad for waluigi. he doesn’t look very popular.”
maybe jiyul can relate. then again, he’s sure waluigi actually has reason to be unpopular if there’s a whole story behind all of these characters that just goes entirely over his head.
“oh.” jiyul exhales softly, shaking his head. “no, never mind. i just thought maybe—” for someone jiyul considers one of his closest friends, hyunjae certainly has a knack for keeping him on his toes. maybe it’s on purpose. maybe it’s not. jiyul probably doesn’t really mind either way. “i just thought you were hurt or something. or... um... really sad, i guess? the text sounded... ominous.”
he’s glad hyunjae’s okay, and that’s all that matters in the end. though clarifying texts would be cool too.
“anyway, let’s do a practice game,” jiyul insists, feeling more excited—childishly—by the second at the prospect of trying the game out. it’s easier to relax around hyunjae, and easier to talk more too (which is a double-edged sword, really, because he’s not used to it). “who’s your character?” he squints at the screen. “bowser? he looks kind of like you... prickly.”
