Chapter Text
...which propels the body into a sense of weightlessness, from which new positions can be reached or accumulation of velocity can-
The front door opens abruptly, knocking into the fragile wall behind it and sending Minhyuk's textbook pages flying with the gust of air. Bin's got both arms loaded with loose papers, surprising if only because Bin takes the same half-empty drawstring bag to class each day. Minhyuk doesn't get to decide between confused question or sarcastic quip before Bin's dumping his papers onto his desk and standing beside Minhyuk's bed.
His eyes are lit up, a smile pasted on his face as he speaks. "Minhyuk, I've got it."
Minhyuk flips through the textbook, attempting to find his place again. "Cool."
He continues through the pages, stopping only when a hand waves over his textbook. Minhyuk sighs, turning to face Bin, finally giving full attention to his friend and the pout he already knew was on his face. "You don't even know what I'm doing."
"Sure," Minhyuk reclines onto the headboard. "You're going to ask out that comic book character in your music theory class," The look on Bin's face gives him away before he says a word, and Minhyuk smiles. "Just like you've attempted to do three times this semester."
"Wrong." Minhyuk's disbelief isn't well hidden, not that he was trying very hard.
Bin nudges Minhyuk over, stealing a seat beside him on the bed. "I'm going to ask out Lee Dongmin, acting major and music lover."
~~~
"Moon Bin." The voice was commanding, deep, and not very pleasant. If that weren't already enough, it also pulled Bin from a particularly nice dream. Ignoring it seemed like the best idea, Bin thought, while burying his face further into his arms.
He could hear the snickering of some students around him, but he could hardly be bothered to care. He'd spent hours last night trying to finish an essay, and after such a long history of last minute papers, no coffeemaker could make enough caffeine anymore. It was a miracle he dragged himself to class really.
A sigh, brittle and not unfamiliar, came from the front. "I'm sorry, son. Are you sure you don't want-" The class' resumed chatter drowned out the rest of the professor's conversation. Bin took a deep breath, his hoodie a rare flowery scent thanks to Minhyuk having given up on Bin's domestic abilities and doing the laundry himself. He wondered if this forced consciousness was a sign to just get up and go home, call it a day.
"Um, excuse me? Moon Bin?" This voice was much nicer than Bin's crotchety old professor. Though, it nudged at something familiar in his head...
Bin's eyes popped open, blinking hurriedly to clear away the fog of sleep.
Oh shit.
Lee Dongmin—captain of every club, top of every class, and main character of Bin's recent fantasies—stood, hovering over his desk, lips fixed in a reserved but courteous half-smile. Dressed up in a business casual button up and slacks, Bin suddenly wished he'd thrown on something nicer than sweats.
Bin sat up, back extra straight and hands combing down any rampant bed head. Dongmin's smile widened a tad, eyes creasing at the sides. Bin's mouth went dry.
"May I?" Dongmin gestured to the seat beside Bin.
"Yeah!" Bin' stomach dropped at the eager tone in his voice. "I mean, if you want. Sure." Idiot.
If Dongmin noticed Bin's nerves, he didn't show it; sliding gracefully into the seat beside him.
Bin had never been the biggest fan of his music theory class. He came to dance; what was studying a book on the intricacies of music going to do for him? But this was a specialized arts school, and music theory was a required music credit, so he moped quietly to himself (and Minhyuk, when he would listen).
Lucky for him, it wasn't suffering entirely. Not when Dongmin first walked into class and Bin decided he could handle it, even if he was bored and alone most of the time. It was worth it if he got a chance to finally speak to the elusive Lee Dongmin.
And if that chance was now, he'd better step it up.
"Moon Bin?" Bin turned to face Dongmin, trying to look fully attentive for the student beside him.
"Hm?"
"You've got some, ah-" Dongmin's voice breaks, an airy laugh cutting through his words and Bin's train of thought.
"You've got some drool on your cheek."
~~~
The class went on pretty spectacularly, once Bin has woken up properly anyways. While the rest of the class was already paired for a discussion on 'the individual growth experienced throughout the semester,' Bin got to have a lengthy and deep conversation—none of it actually pertaining to the class—with Lee Dongmin, all because he slept in late the same day student government elections were being held.
"I've hated that professor all semester, but thanks to his stupid midway reflection discussion, I think I've got it!" Bin's shaking and he's not sure if it's the excitement or the espresso shots he downed for last class.
He turns to Minhyuk, anticipating the faintest support from his roommate.
All he gets is a blank stare. "So your plan is...?"
"Are you serious?" Bin can hardly keep from letting his mouth hang open. "Did you not hear a word I just said?"
Minhyuk's only response is a shrug of the shoulders, with a noncommittal 'can you blame me' kind of expression. Bin has to, once again, question why he became best friends with someone so dense as Park Minhyuk. Someone so dense and fast, he corrects, when Minhyuk dodges his projectile pillow.
Bin sighs, spelling it out. "I'm going to serenade him."
Then Bin sees something he's only seen a few times in his long and tremulous relationship with Minhyuk.
Total surprise takes Minhyuk's face.
Bin's mouth tightens to a line. "What?"
If Minhyuk were a good friend, he'd be supportive of Bin. He'd be cheering him on, telling him to go after the boy of his very recent—and sometimes very realistic—dreams. He'd help him flesh out the plan to finally woo the most amazing guy Bin's ever had the pleasure of seeing.
But no, Minhyuk is an ass, so instead the room fills with Minhyuk's howling laughter as he collapses into the bed. He can't look at Bin without starting a new fit. It goes on until Bin takes the pillow from where Minhyuk sat and starts to smother him with it; not (only) because he's being annoying but because they can't risk another noise complaint this year.
"It makes sense!" Bin shouts, making himself heard through the pillow. "We spent the whole class talking about our interest in music! He's in an art school. He likes guitar and singers and creativity!"
A string of what sounds like words comes from under the pillow, now free from any residual laughter, so Bin chances tossing the pillow aside.
Minhyuk remains flat on his back, staring up to make eye contact. "Bin, you can't sing or play guitar."
"But I am creative, and that's one of three." Bin falls backward to match Minyuk's position, bouncing once and then twice off the old springy mattress. He can spot the cracks in the corner of the ceiling they'd picked out on move in day that look like a duck. "Either way, you're not being a very helpful friend."
"I'm sorry." Minhyuk's voice is bland. "Did you want me to set you up with a guitar teacher or something?"
Bin jolts upright again. "Yes!"
"What?" Minhyuk joins him, making eye contact. "No!"
"You offered!" Bin points out, eyes shining once more with excitement.
"Are you serious. We've known each other half our lives." Minhyuk scoffs. "You know my sarcasm by now!"
"Please." Bin clasps his hands, channeling his seven year old self and directing his most miserable expression towards Minhyuk.
He lasts a respectable ten seconds before cracking.
"Fine." Minhyuk sighs, lifting his hand to cover his eyes. "Just stop the begging; it's embarrassing."
Bin is quick to wrap him in an awkwardly one-sided hug. "Thanks, Minhyuk."
"You're not allowed to get all squishy with me." Minhyuk complains, pushing at Bin's arms for a halfhearted beat before giving in and reciprocating. "Save it for your love interest."