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Chapter Text

chapter 1 // gucci gang, spent ten racks on a new (balenciaga outfit)

Zhengting switches his phone off airplane mode as soon as the plane touches ground at LAX. Immediately, 6 messages flood in.

“GEGEEEE ARE YOU BACK YET :) :) :)”

“Gege come back please Justin won’t stop whining”

"Ge wya??? Yanchen is mad at me and I don’t know why sos??”

“Gege… they’re bullying me again :’(“

“GEGE NO ONE WILL WATCH THE NEW MINIONS MOVIE WITH ME COME BACK SO WE CAN GO”

“Hey, ge. The others made me send this text. Come back safely, I guess”

Zhengting snorts. These fools. He sends one single message in response to all of them into their group chat:

“I’m back, my children.”

Dinghao slams open the door to Chaoze’s and Zhangjing’s room, stomps in, and plops himself face first onto their floor.

“Someone tell me why I have to room with Xiao Gui, out of all people,” he wails.

“Because you’re a dumbass who forgot to fill in the housing form, so they randomly put you with another dumbass who did the same thing?” Chaoze replies without missing a beat, folding his clothes into his dresser.

Zhangjing shrugs from his bed and puts another potato chip into his mouth. “You’ll live.”

“I’ll LIVE ?? You think I’ll survive this year rooming with one of the richest, most pretentious Hypebeast fuckboys at this school?” Dinghao rolls over to face Zhangjing with an incredulous look on his face.

“Xiao Gui’s family is probably rich enough to buy my entire existence, ten times over. I don’t want to deal with a fuerdai who doesn’t know how to do anything but buy 5,000 dollar sneakers and wear Peppa Pig satchels. He won’t do any of the cleaning.”

Xiao Gui is part of a group of people at the university that Dinghao and his friends liked to call “the fuerdai fucks.” They came to this school from China with no intention of studying and every intention of living their best lives. And living their their best lives entails walking around school in outfits that cost more than their tuition, driving the 20 minute walk from the dorms to campus in their Maseratis, and spending weekends (and weekdays) at bars and clubs engaging in debauchery.

Dinghao, Zhangjing, and Chaoze, on the other hand, are students from China on academic scholarships with every intention of studying hard and getting an H-1 visa after graduation. To them, these fuerdais ruin the image of Chinese international students and perpetuate the stereotype that all of them were here to play. As a result, none of the domestic kids take them seriously and usually are thoroughly shocked to find out that the three of them were honor students.

“You know, for a person who says that he can’t stand Xiao Gui and the rest of the fuerdai fucks, you sure do pay a lot of attention to their fashion choices,” Zhangjing remarks, dusting potato chip flakes onto the floor. 

Dinghao glares at him. “Says the person who has had a one-sided crush on the most fuerdai fuck out of all the fuerdai fucks for the past two years.”

Zhangjing winces. “That was a low blow, Dinghao. And you know that’s not true. The most fuerdai fuck of them all is obviously Wang Ziyi.”

“Seriously, Zhangjing. When are you ever gonna get this ball rolling? You know you need to push first to get the momentum going,” Chaoze turns around from his unpacking to cross his arms and look at Zhangjing disapprovingly.

“Chill out, Physics major. He doesn’t even swing, okay? Let me live this typical gay storyline of pining after a rich straight boy in peace.”

Chaoze sighs and walked over to Zhangjing, placing his hands on his shoulders and shaking him angrily. “For the umpteenth time, nobody knows for sure if he’s straight! Get that into that small tiny brain of yours, won’t you!”

“He’s right. Out of all of them, Yanjun has the most gay potential. Besides Wang Ziyi, of course,” Dinghao adds.

“How the heck do you even know? He’s spotted with hot girls all the fucking time,” Zhangjing retorts bitterly.

“I get around,” Dinghao shrugs. As much as Dinghao complains about the fuerdai fucks, he also survives off of gossip. If there were anybody who had the potential to know literally everything about everyone at school, it would be Lu Dinghao.

“You know what, let’s just go to the club this weekend,” Chaoze proposes, one hand still on Zhangjing’s shoulder.

“What the fuck? The semester just started; you think I’ve got that type of money?” Zhangjing pushes the hand off and plops back onto his bed, grabbing his potato chips.

Chaoze gave him a look. “Zhangjing, you spent the entire summer working a full-time job at a research lab that paid 30 dollars an hour. You have the money for one night out.”

“Okay, but why would we go? To see Yanjun?” Zhangjing snorts.

Dinghao rolls his eyes. “Yes, genius, congrats. That’s exactly why we’re going.” 

“Saying no isn’t an option, Zhangjing. You didn’t go out the entirety of last semester and watched the Food Network with all of your free time,” Chaoze turns back around to continue folding his clothes.

Zhangjing reaches into his bag of potato chips, finds that it’s empty, and groans.

“Hey bro, welcome back,” Ziyi looks up from the Garageband on his laptop.

“Bro, did you get new kicks?” Yanjun steps inside his room, pausing to admire the new sneakers at the door.

“You bet he did, they’re the limited edition ones too,” Xiao Gui interjects from the floor.  

“You didn’t have to tell me that, does this dude buy anything that isn’t only available in single digit quantities?”

“Uh, yeah, his Macbook,” Jeffrey replies from his bed, in defense of his roommate.

“He literally got that custom-designed to have it say ‘BOOGIE’ on the front,” Yanjun deadpans.

“Enough about me, how are the rooming situations this year for you all?” Ziyi turns to face Xiao Gui and Yanjun.

“I don’t know bro, I walked in and this dude was already there unpacking his stuff. I said ‘hey,’ but as soon as he saw me his face turned pastier than it already was and he ran straight out of the room.”

“Weird, bro,” Ziyi remarks.

“Maybe he likes you,” Jeffrey suggests.

“Well, I’m rooming with Linong again. I actually can’t survive without that boy,” Yanjun says, pointedly ignoring Jeffrey’s dumb comment.

“That’s chill. Is he coming with us to the club this weekend?” Xiao Gui asks, also ignoring Jeffrey’s dumb comment.

“He gave me his typical judgemental look but said he’d tag along this time,” Yanjun replies.

“Uh, about that, I don’t think I can make it this weekend,” Ziyi grimaces, looking thoroughly apologetic.

“What? Why? Bro, you were the one who brought this up!” Xiao Gui protests, finally looking up from his gold-infused fidget spinner.

Ziyi sighs. “My dad is making me do business stuff again. He wants me to meet with another CEO. Something about needing to invest in the new technological trends.”

“Ugh, what better way to spend a Saturday evening than talking business with old white men,” Yanjun sympathizes.

“I know, bro. And get this: my dad wants me to buy out his startup, which is creating a virtual reality dating game. How old and sad do you have to be to want to make that type of stuff,” Ziyi scoffs, turning back to his Garageband.

“Are all CEOs old and ugly? Maybe this one will be young and cute,” Jeffrey offers.

No one answers him.

Xukun is nervous. Really nervous. He paces around the floor, reciting his pitch over and over again.

“Cai Xukun, learn to chill a little. You look more nervous than when you confessed to me in mid-quad as a freshman.” Zhengting was lying on Zhenghao’s bed (not Xukun’s, because he would actually slaughter Zhengting if he did that), watching Xukun’s mini breakdown.

“Fuck you, I don’t ever want to remember that time again, thank you very much,” Xukun retorts, continuing to recite.

“Why not?” Zhengting pouts, coming over to Xukun to latch himself onto him like a koala. “Our time together was happy!”

“Zhengting-ge, can you be serious for once and let me concentrate? This meeting could decide my entire future, I want to do well,” Xukun gives Zhengting an exasperated look, gingerly removing himself from Zhengting’s arms.

Cai Xukun was also what people would deem a fuerdai, but he wasn’t a “fuerdai fuck.” His father had met another woman when Xukun was five, divorced his mother, and only sent back annual funds from the settlement. His mother, heartbroken, immersed herself into her work and began leaving Xukun at home alone with his nanny in a huge house, only coming back to hand Xukun more money. When Xukun was old enough to have a credit card, his mother stopped coming back all together. It also didn’t help that the one time she did come back when he was seventeen, she walked into Xukun kissing another boy in his room.

When he applied for college, he made sure to apply to the farthest choices possible to escape from a place that never felt like home. Unlike the other rich kids, he had a drive that stemmed from an overwhelming urge to detach himself financially from his mother. He wanted to be able to continue living his comfortable life, but only with his own money. As such, when he matriculated, he immediately chose the most profitable major, computer science, with the currently most profitable focus, virtual reality, and never looked back.

“Seriously though, Xukun, if anyone would be fine, it’s you, Mr. 4.0 GPA With His Own Startup At Age 21,” Zhengting retracts his arms, expression suddenly turning serious. “Wang Technologies and Softwares has already expressed enough interest in your product. And who knows? Maybe Wang Ziyi will be the one to meet with you, then you can sell both your product and your bod-”

Xukun cuts Zhengting off, muffling his shouts with his hand. “Zhengting-ge, you talk way too much. I wish you found a sugar daddy in Amsterdam and never came back, honestly.”

“It’s not like I even need one,” Zhengting retorts. “All I’m saying is, Cai Xukun, you’ve had enough of a dry spell. It’s time for your pretty face to get the action it deserves,” Zhengting shrugs, diving back into Zhenghao’s bed. “Plus, Wang Ziyi’s hella hot and a confirmed homo,” he adds.

Xukun sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “First of all, there’s no way that spoiled rich brat Wang Ziyi would show up to a business meeting on a Saturday evening. Second of all, just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean he’s not a douche.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you think he’s attractive.” Zhengting wiggles his eyebrows.

 Xukun throws his notebook into Zhengting’s face.

Xukun looks around the bar from the private table that he was sitting at. The only people here are rich old Asian men, and the hostess at the door had looked Cai Xukun up and down when he gave her his name, probably thinking that he was a prostitute. Unsurprising that Wang Tech would choose only the most expensive and fancy bar in Arcadia. He looks at his watch. 9:18 PM. The other party was 18 minutes late already.

At 9:26, a man taps his shoulder. “Hi, sorry I’m late. And you are?” Cai Xukun looks up and sees Wang Ziyi, with no sign of sweat, urgency, or regret on his face. Damn you and your foresight, Zhu Zhengting.

“I’m… Cai Xukun?” Xukun gets up to shake his hand, confused that Wang Ziyi doesn’t even know the name of the person he’s negotiating with. He was also a little surprised that Ziyi didn’t recognize him, because not to be full of himself, but Xukun was quite well-known at school.

“Right, right, sorry about that. Let’s have a seat,” Wang Ziyi waves his hand and doesn’t even look the least bit apologetic.

“So, we’re here to talk about your… online dating thing? I have to admit, I didn’t expect to be meeting such a young guy like you today,” Ziyi looks Xukun up and down with his legs crossed in that power move that all those rich fucks do.

“It’s actually a virtual reality dating simulation,” Xukun corrects, ignoring Ziyi’s second comment. “I have to say, Mr. Wang, that I’m a bit taken aback that you are not familiar with the product that your company wishes to invest in.”

“I’m not usually in charge of this stuff. Honestly speaking, my dad made me come here today,” Ziyi says nonchalantly, picking at his nails.

Xukun’s eye twitches. “Then, Mr. Wang, are you interested in learning more about my product-”

“Just Ziyi is fine. We look the same age, anyway.” Ziyi suddenly leans forward closer to Xukun, studying his face. “Actually, do you go to my school? You look really familiar.”

“Alright, Wang Ziyi, then. I’m here to further our negotiations of your company’s proposal to invest in my product, Wanna Get Love, so if we could get started-”

"What’s the rush? Our drinks aren’t even here yet. Let’s get to know each other a bit first,” Ziyi sits back again, smirking.

Xukun grits his teeth. It’s going to be a long night.

“Why are we here again?” Zhangjing asks Dinghao as they both nurse a cocktail, watching Chaoze already attracting looks with his wild samba.

“EYES ON THE PRIZE, ZHANGJING! EYES ON THE PRIZE,” Chaoze stumbles over suddenly, grabs onto Zhangjing’s shoulders and yells in his face.

Zhangjing grimaces at the strong scent of vodka in his breath. “Damn you, Chaoze, why do you have to be such a fucking lightweight.”

“Hey! Is that You Zhangjing and Lu Dinghao? Didn’t think I’d see you guys here!” A voice shouts at them, and Zhangjing looks into the crowd to see a tall figure weaving towards them with that signature smile on his face.

“Chen Linong! It’s been so long! How are you?” Zhangjing throws Chaoze off him and runs towards Linong, hugging him tight.

Chen Linong was a scholarship student, just like them, and shared the same passion for singing that Dinghao and Zhangjing did, which is what made them bond easily. However, Chen Linong also rooms with Yanjun, so he hangs out with the “fuerdai fuck” crowd more often. Due to Linong’s kind, forgiving, bright, and literally perfect personality, he is probably the only person not part of the rich crowd who is actually able to tolerate them. Zhangjing had unfortunately found out during the first week of classes freshman year that Linong roomed with Yanjun when the latter walked out of the shower shirtless while he was there, kickstarting Zhangjing’s downward spiral.

“I’ve been fine,” Linong replies, picking Zhangjing up like the giant he is and spinning him around. “I’m actually here with a couple of my friends too. Do you want to join us?”

Zhangjing freezes. “A couple of my friends” is code for… Lin Yanjun and the fuerdai fucks.

“Of course, we would love to!” Lu Dinghao cuts in immediately, putting on the most sinisterly bright smile that Zhangjing has ever seen him make. Chaoze’s grin is no better, and he nudges Zhangjing a little bit too hard on the shoulder.

“Great, let’s go then!” Linong grabs Zhangjing’s shoulders and pushes him towards the crowd. Fuck .

Linong leads the three of them further, and further, and further into the club until they reach a secluded area. There, Yanjun, Xiao Gui, and Jeffrey are sitting around a private table with empty glasses scattered all over. Zhangjing’s eyes fall on Yanjun immediately. The boy is wearing a simple white tanktop, black skinny jeans, and shoes that are somehow still completely white in the sweaty club. He looks over and beams at Linong, and Zhangjing’s breath catches when he sees his dimple.

“Hey! My boy Linong!” Yanjun, eyes half glazed over, stumbles over to Linong and crushes him in a hug.

“Oh my god is that Xiao Gui-”

“Oh! You’re my roommate, right? Bro, it’s good to finally meet you!” Xiao Gui sticks out his hand. Dinghao reaches for it gingerly, only to be pulled into a massive bro-hug. He cringes.

“Who are these people, Linong?” Yanjun slurs.

“Yanjun, I told you not to drink so much,” Linong scolded, placing Yanjun back down carefully on the seat and handing him some water. “These are my friends from vocal class, Zhangjing and Dinghao, and their friend Chaoze.”“Nice to finally meet you, Lin Yanjun,” Chaoze exclaims, sloppily shaking Yanjun’s hand. Linong raises an eyebrow. Zhangjing, knowing his friend has zero ability to keep secrets when he’s drunk, pushes Chaoze away in an attempt to save the little dignity that he has left.

“Sorry, he’s a little drunk, if you can’t tell,” Zhangjing says, sitting down carefully next to Yanjun and putting on the warmest smile his panicking self could muster. “I’m You Zhangjing.”

“I know, Linong talks about you a lot.” Yanjun makes direct eye contact with Zhangjing, lips pulling up in a smirk. Zhangjing stops breathing, so he doesn’t hear what Yanjun says to him next.

“Sorry, what? The music is too loud!”

At this, Yanjun scoots himself until his bare arm brushes up against Zhangjing’s. He cups his hand around Zhangjing’s ear. “I asked if you were also a junior?” He shouts a bit too loudly.

Zhangjing probably replies something completely incoherent, because all Yanjun does is throw his head back and laugh. Zhangjing can’t stop himself from staring at the sheen of sweat on Yanjun’s neck, the way his soft hair falls back, and those dimples that appear on his face again.

“You should loosen up a bit, drink this.” Yanjun shoves a glass of mysterious alcohol into Zhangjing’s hands. The places where their fingers brush feel like fire on Zhangjing’s hands.

“Oh,” Zhangjing mumbles, mentally kicking himself for his stupidity.

An hour later, Yanjun is falling asleep on the sofa, head resting softly on Zhangjing’s shoulder, and all Zhangjing can think about is that he’s most definitely, certainly, 100% not drunk enough for this. Before his face can combust from the heat, Linong stands up and coaxes Yanjun off of Zhangjing.

“Yanjun, you need to get home.” Yanjun mumbles something incoherent. Linong sighs.

“Hey Zhangjing, could you possibly take Yanjun back to our room first? I would go, but these two blockheads want to stay here for a bit longer, so I have to watch after them. Also, you’re the only other one sober enough,” Linong pulls his puppy face, but if Zhangjing was being completely honest with himself, Linong didn’t even have to do that for him to agree.

“Uh yeah, sure, no problem,” Zhangjing says.

“I owe you one!” Linong beams at Zhangjing. He sighs.

The Uber ride back is relatively silent. Yanjun is staring out the window, half-conscious, and Zhangjing is sitting there fidgeting his thumbs like an idiot, probably.

“Why do I live like this?” Yanjun suddenly blurts out. Oh no .

“What do you mean?”

Yanjun turns towards Zhangjing, eyes teary. “It’s just that… I feel like these last two years are all that I have left, you know? Before I have to go back to Taiwan and inherit my dad’s company for some money, marry some random girl for some more money, and have a family for even more money.”

Yanjun blinks, and tears fall from his face. He wipes them away quickly. “I don’t feel like I have any real purpose in life, and my only true form of happiness comes from keeping my white sneakers completely clean because it’s the only thing I have actual control over.”

Yanjun looks away, back out the window. “Sorry for putting this on you; you don’t have to say anything.”

Zhangjing’s heart shatters. “Don’t be sorry. If it makes you feel any better, everything I own gets dirty in literally two seconds, so you’re pretty amazing,” Zhangjing says as he silently puts a tissue in Yanjun’s hand.

Yanjun’s hand curls around the tissue, and he sniffles. Zhangjing can see a shadow of a smile on his face.

After dropping Yanjun off at his dorm, Zhangjing leans on the door and slides down into a squat, burying his head in his knees. Fuck you, Lin Chaoze.

Chapter Text

chapter 2 // i have a mansion in arcadia, baby boy what’s happenin’

 “Zhu Zhengting, I have a bone to pick with you,” Xukun sits down angrily at their designated table in a very crowded Half & Half Tea.

Zhengting shrugs and takes a sip from his drink. “Unless it’s the bones from my grandma’s steamed fish, then no thanks.”

“I hope you choke on a boba.”

“Haha, too bad, because I’m on a diet for my next dance performance and haven’t had boba in two months.” Zhengting sticks out his tongue.

“Kids, kids, let’s settle down, shall we?” Justin sticks his head in between the two of them, swishing his head back and forth until Zhengting reaches his hands out and forces Justin back into his seat.

“Yeah, we only do this once a month, can we at least act like we’re friends?” Chengcheng scrolls aimlessly through Kermit memes on Twitter.

“Wait, Chengcheng, we’re not friends?” Justin looks crestfallen.

Chengcheng glances over from his phone. “Not with taro milk tea all over your mouth, no.” Justin scrambles over Zhengting to grab napkins from the dispenser.

Xukun scoffs. “If only Zhengting-ge had told me that he knew Wang Ziyi was gonna be there-”

“Hold up, you’re shitting me, he was actually there?”

“Yeah, we didn’t actually talk about any business. Or more like, he didn’t let me. The dude asked me for my pitch, but after I finished, he just asked me if I wanted to go clubbing with him. I tried to talk about my product again, but he just made me give him my number so we could ‘talk more about this later,’ and then he left. I had to contact the company again to meet with someone else and get the negotiations going. Oh, and he also hasn’t stopped texting me since,” Xukun says all of this in one breath, huffs angrily, and grabs Justin’s drink to take a large sip.

“What? Kunkun, I can’t believe you had a boy and didn’t tell us,” Justin pouts.

“That’s not the point,” Xukun hisses. “You’re not going to ask about my business? How my negotiations went? Do you care about your friend’s wellbeing at all?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up, what’s even happening?” Chengcheng suddenly looks up from his phone.

“Cai Xukun just snatched up the most eligible bachelor at this university, that’s what,” Zhengting supplies helpfully.

“Shut up, more like most eligible useless fuckboy. And who said I wanted this to happen? I hope his Balenciaga shoes get run through the mud and someone shaves all of his dumb floppy hair off.”

Chengcheng whistles. “Damn, slow down there Satan. Balenciaga doesn’t deserve to be slandered like that. What has he been texting you?”

Xukun pulls up the chats, places his phone in the middle of the table, and puts his head down and groans.

Wang Ziyi: Wanna grab some lunch tday? We could talk abt ur product

Wang Ziyi: And other things…

Cai Xukun: Since our last meeting was unproductive, I already settled the deal with one of your father’s secretaries.

Cai Xukun: And I’m busy.

Wang Ziyi: :’(

Wang Ziyi: Hey u up?

Cai Xukun: No

Wang Ziyi: :’(

Justin laughs so hard he chokes on a piece of taro. “I can’t believe he literally booty called you,” he manages to wheeze out.

“Of course he would, he’s Wang Ziyi. Did you expect anything else?” Chengcheng rolls his eyes as he slaps Justin on the back a little too hard.

“Yeah, for him to be a decent fucking human being,” Xukun hisses, snatching his phone back.

“I think you’re assuming too much, Kunkun. I know him personally. He may seem super full of himself, but he’s actually just a soft sheltered rich kid who doesn’t know how to interact with regular people.” Zhengting pats Xukun’s hand reassuringly.

“Ge, you’re optimistic and forgiving enough to take care of and literally baby six freshmen,” Xukun deadpans.

“Hey!”

“Also, how in the heck do you know every single person on campus?” Xukun asks, ignoring Justin’s protests.

“I don’t know, perks of coming from a family that runs the largest candy and dessert business in China?” Chengcheng shrugs.

“....Touché,” Xukun mumbles.

“But really, Kunkun, as I always say, if you don’t think he’s hot, then let it drop. Just have a meal with him once and tell him that,” Zhengting says.

Xukun runs his hand through his hair. “It’s not that-”

“What is this I hear? Hesitation?” Justin cups his hand around his ear, leaning towards Xukun obnoxiously.

Xukun swats Justin out of his immediate view. “No, you’re right, ge. It’s for the best. I’ll talk to him soon.” His number is called for his drink, and Xukun sighs as he gets up to retrieve it.

Zhengting, Justin, and Chengcheng look at each other. “Looks like our little boy Kunkun has a little crush,” Justin singsongs.

“Justin, you’re like twelve,” Chengcheng goes back to scrolling on his phone as Justin hands him a well-deserved punch in the shoulder.

Zhangjing is running late on the first day of class, all because Lin Chaoze had convinced him to watch Gossip Girl until 4 AM with him by saying that it would improve their English. This morning, he doesn’t feel any better at English, but he does feel dead inside. He kicks Chaoze on the way out to wake him up, slams the door just in time to avoid a flying pillow coming his way. He runs into the lecture hall at 9:57 AM and thanks the heavens that there is still an empty table. Zhangjing is usually a pretty social person, but not today. Not after almost pulling an all-nighter to binge-watch trashy teen dramas and ingesting three pounds of cheese crackers.

The professor walks in at ten on the dot. Zhangjing is surprised that no one has sat next to him, seeing as this class was supposed to be completely full.

At 10:15, as the professor is passing out the syllabus, the heavy door opens with a terribly loud squeak. A boy walks in wearing an unnecessary fedora that doesn’t do much to hide his bright silver hair, a thin blue sweater, loose jeans, and sunglasses that he doesn’t bother to take off as he bows slightly to the teacher in apology. He doesn’t seem the least bit sorry though;  Zhangjing watches as he strolls casually across the classroom with a java chip Starbucks frap in his hand and Airpods in his ears to the only empty seat left right beside him.

Zhangjing would recognize that confident walk, silver hair, and ugly slippers anywhere. The guy takes off his sunglasses and earphones as he settles in his seat and of course, it’s Lin Yanjun. Zhangjing, despite having that knowledge, still nearly has a heart attack.

“Hey, sorry, can I share the syllabus with you?” Yanjun looks over to Zhangjing and cracks a small smile.

“S-sure,” Zhangjing stutters, robotically pushing the piece of paper between them. Does he not remember me or what happened on Saturday? But he said he knew me- Zhangjing’s mind is too busy catching up on everything that is happening to properly process that their fingers brush slightly when Yanjun reaches over to adjust the syllabus so he can see it better. Zhangjing instinctively jerks back his hand out of panic, and Yanjun looks at him oddly, but then turns to focus his attention back on the professor. When he’s sure Yanjun is looking away, Zhangjing immediately whips out his phone.

You Zhangjing: Pls help me send help sos sos 911

extra bitch: no fck u for waking me up this morning i dont have class, u hoe

nongfu’s sugar baby: wht now drama queen

You Zhangjing: LIN FUCKIN YANJUN is sittin NeXt To ME in B I  O C H EM

You Zhangjing: WHY IS HE HERE

extra bitch: ...he’s a mo-bio major

extra bitch: his family runs a freakin bioinformatics conglomerate

extra bitch: u shouldve expected this dumbass

nongfu’s sugar baby: L M F A O

You Zhangjing: Fuck y’all

“Zhangjing, would you like to answer this one?” The professor snaps Zhangjing out of his fury, which, in hindsight, seemed pretty obvious through his furrowed eyebrows aimed at his crotch and angry screen-tapping.

“Uh…” Zhangjing has a mini breakdown. He can’t lose participation on the first day of class, he needs to maintain his 3.8 GPA-

There’s a small tap on the leg that he’s bouncing out of anxiety. Zhangjing glances to his right, and he can see Yanjun’s other hand tapping on the syllabus. His eyes fly down, and he sees something scrawled onto the bottom of the paper.

“You should... flush your skin with water for 20 minutes?”

“Correct. Next question,” The professor moves on, and Zhangjing finally starts breathing again.

“Thanks,” Zhangjing mumbles towards the front without looking at Yanjun. He’s too embarrassed to face that unfairly handsome face right now.

“No problem, hope you got your crisis settled,” Yanjun whispers back. Zhangjing’s eyes widen, and his head whips around to look at him. He regrets it, because Yanjun is smirking back at him, twirling a pen in his hand.

“Wha- Did you- did you read my texts?” Zhangjing’s face begins flushing. This is the end of him. He might as well write his will now on the back of this stupid syllabus-

“No, chill, it’s just because you were typing pretty furiously, that’s why,” Yanjun shrugs and turns his attention back to the professor again. Zhangjing wants to cry.

“Alright, today is syllabus day, so I’ll let you go early. The person you are sitting with is your lab partner for the next semester, so get to know them well.” Zhangjing wants to scream.

“I’m Lin Yanjun, by the way,” Yanjun says while slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Look forward to working with you.” He shoots one last smile at Zhangjing, and then he’s gone.

Zhangjing, still shook that Yanjun took the initiative to give him his name , looks down to pick up the rest of the stuff and sees the syllabus still lying on the table. On it, there’s something else written beneath the answer to the question:

“微信 evanlin888 :)”

Zhangjing wants to die.

“Guys, guess what,” Yanjun asks as he sits down at the table at Haidilao. Yes, the fuerdai fucks are at Haidilao on a Monday.

“There’s a minuscule dot of dirt on your white shoes?” Wang Ziyi deadpans while entering four servings of New Zealand lamb meat onto the ordering iPad.

“You showered until there was no more hot water again?” Chen Linong provides without looking up from his textbook that he’s trying to study.

“You had a bad day?” Jeffrey asks, his eyes full of pity.

“You finally had your gay awakening?” Xiao Gui offers nonchalantly while scrolling through the Supreme website on his phone.

“What? Fuck you all, except Jeffrey,” Yanjun grabs the iPad angrily from Ziyi and spams the pork belly button. “I was going to say that I met that kid from the club again and had to sit next to him in Chem. Zhangjing?”

“Oh, so I was right,” Xiao Gui interjects. Chen Linong gives him a high-five.

“What I’m trying to say is I think I played it off pretty well. I pretended I didn’t know him and he didn’t bring it up,” Yanjun finishes, ignoring Xiao Gui’s comment.

“My boy is playing hard to get I see,” Xiao Gui teases.

“I just don’t want him to spread what I said to him last weekend and ruin my reputation at school,” Yanjun adds, ignoring Xiao Gui’s comment again.

“What reputation? The one of you being the fuckiest fuckboy out there who only hooks up with hot Chinese women? Or the one of you almost failing Intro Chem and having to get your dad to pull strings?” Chen Linong says without looking up from the iPad.

“Whoa whoa whoa, let’s back off on the burns today, Linong,” Ziyi says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re trying to be helpful to our poor little Yanjun here.”

“Who’s paying for your food again?” Yanjun reminds Linong.

“I meant, the reputation that you’re an amazingly handsome, generous, kind, and funny person!” Linong looks up at Yanjun and bats his eyelashes. Xiao Gui gags.

Yanjun throws a mini heart in Linong’s direction. Xiao Gui gags even more. “Anyways, Linong said he’s an honor student? And I need all the help I can get passing Biochem this semester, so I gave him my Wechat… hopefully I can bribe him into keeping silent and helping me out.”

“Sounds like the start of a gay love story.”

“Wang Ziyi, not you too,” Yanjun groans.

Xiao Gui punches Ziyi in the shoulder. “Yeah, you’re the one to talk. Who’s the one desperately trying to get with our school’s pretty boy?”

“That’s a different story,” Ziyi sighs. “He’s not being responsive. I tried to ask him if he was awake so I could take him out for some late night dessert, but he said no! He replied to my text, but he said he wasn’t awake!”

“Yeah, I thought it was rude of Xukun to refuse like that,” Jeffrey interjects, patting Ziyi on the head to comfort him.

“That’s because you fucking texted him ‘u up,’ bro. That’s literally a booty call,” Linong deadpans.

“It all worked out though, because he asked me to meet up with him tomorrow!” Ziyi happily places more meat on Linong’s plate.

Yanjun tsks. “He initiated it? That can’t be good…”

“Yeah, means he wants outtie,” Xiao Gui slices his neck to get his point across.

“What? Ziyi has an outtie!” Jeffrey comments, clearly missing the point.

Xiao Gui, Linong, and Yanjun groan. Ziyi pats a very confused Jeffrey softly on the head.

Xukun has been waiting for fifteen minutes. Again. This seems to be a pattern, though he’d expect nothing more from Wang Ziyi. He shakes his leg so hard in annoyance that the table moves, and the people sitting next to him shoot him weird looks.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, got held up during my dance class.” Xukun looks up and sees Ziyi looking down at him again, feeling a sense of deja vu. This time, though, he’s dressed in a simple (Louis Vuitton) white t-shirt and jeans, looking a little bit more breathless from running and less douchey, which Xukun acknowledges as an improvement. He also can’t help but dwell on the fact that Ziyi dances too. How come he’s never seen him around in the practice rooms?

“No worries, I just got here too,” Xukun lies smoothly. He didn’t want to be burning bridges so soon, not quite yet.

The two of them sit silently for a while after Ziyi places his order.

“So-”

“I-”

“You go first,” Ziyi offers.

Xukun groans internally. This isn’t a goddamn gay romance movie, Wang Ziyi. But he still finds himself saying, “No, go ahead.”

Ziyi’s expression suddenly sobers. He looks at Xukun directly in the eyes as he says, “I just wanted to apologize… for last time. I know that I may have come off a little bit rude; I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

Xukun tries really hard not to laugh. His apology sounded like that of a five year old. But as he studies Ziyi’s reddening face and sad, light brown eyes, Xukun realizes that the boy was being serious. Fuck you, Zheng-

“S-so, if it’s alright, do you mind telling me a bit more about your product? I didn’t really get to know much about it, and I don’t know much about VR, but it seems pretty cool,” Ziyi rushes the rest of his words and breaks eye contact with Xukun to swirl his straw in his drink. It’s kind of … cute. Xukun gets lost in the way Ziyi’s fingers look holding that straw, the way his other hand grasps the drink nervously, the way the condensation droplets trail down his knuckles…

“...Xukun?”

“Oh, uh, it’s okay, it’s fine, I’m not mad,” Xukun says hurriedly, snapping out of his reverie. He slaps himself inwardly for being so goddamn awkward and obvious. “I actually just got back from a presentation, so I can show you the beta version if you want-”

“I would love that,” Ziyi interrupts, throwing him a relieved smile.

An hour later, Ziyi is yelling at Xukun for messing up his “date” with “Peter,” the café barista comes over to give them their second warning for being too loud, and Xukun is doubling over in laughter at how dumb Ziyi looks swishing his head back and forth with a huge VR device over his eyes.

“Dammit, I can’t believe I only got 68 points on that date, I thought I was good at this,” Ziyi pouts as he takes off the VR device and hands it back to Xukun.

“Well obviously, Peter thinks you need some work,” Xukun teases.

“I hope I earned a better score to someone else, though,” Ziyi comments off-handedly, throwing Xukun off-guard.

Xukun was so confused. What happened to the rude, self-absorbed fuerdai fuck he met a week ago? Dammit, he was supposed to be mad at this boy. He was supposed to put an end to this. He was supposed to be a pretentious fuckboy, not a kind-of-really adorable dork. “... Maybe a 75,” he shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant.

To his surprise, Ziyi laughs. “I’ll take it, it’s passing at least.” His eyes are twinkling, and Xukun’s heart maybe, just maybe, starts going a little bit faster.

“A-anyways, you said you danced? I do too, how come I never see you around?” Xukun quickly changes the topic before his face turns completely red and he exposes his dumb self.

“No way? That’s awesome!” Maybe this wasn’t a good question to ask, because Ziyi beams again and Xukun has to clench his fists to stop his quickening heartbeat. “I probably don’t see you because the B-Boy Club meets at my house in Arcadia, we have a practice room there.”

As a pretty well-off person himself, Xukun really isn’t surprised. His mom has a house in Arcadia too. As a matter of fact, almost all of his rich friends’ moms do. “Ah, so that’s why-”

“You can come visit if you want!” Ziyi blurts out. “I mean, like, practice there, if the practice rooms at school are too crowded…” Ziyi trails off, taking a loud slurp of his coffee.

It’s Xukun’s turn to laugh, and Ziyi’s turn to look up in slight surprise. “Maybe if you earn higher than 90 points next time,” Xukun says while waving for the bill.

“Does that mean… we can meet again?” Ziyi asks hopefully, suddenly sitting up straight.

Xukun doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He doesn’t really know what he’s thinking. His brain is telling him to stop, that he’s moving too fast, that he needs to rethink this, but though he is usually a rational person; this time around, his fluttering heart takes control of his motor skills.

“What about next Friday?” he finds himself saying.  

Ziyi smiles softly and winks. “It’s a date, then,”

Xukun wants to gag at the disgustingly cheesy, completely fuckboy line, but somehow, his heart manages to beat even faster.

Chapter Text

chapter 3 // ‘cause the boy with the cold hard cash isn’t always mr. right

Zhangjing sits in his seat nervously, trying his hardest not to scream in the middle of the dead silent library. He’s meeting Yanjun to go over a Chem assignment, but it feels like he’s about to have an interview for a job at Google. As soon as he’s somewhat successfully convinced himself that he shouldn’t be so nervous to meet someone to go over a problem set, Yanjun sits down across from him with the most beautiful, sparkling smile he’s ever seen. Zhangjing mentally kicks himself over and over for being so whipped for this Chinese fuckboy.

“Hey, have you been here long? Sorry for making you wait,” Yanjun says in a low whisper. Zhangjing barely registers what he actually says.

“Huh? Yeah- I mean, no, it’s fine,” Zhangjing stumbles over his words again.

Yanjun’s smile grows bigger. “Great, let’s get started then.”

After explaining the same reaction set to Yanjun for the fourth time in a row, Zhangjing no longer wants to kiss him; he wants to kill him instead. He wouldn’t call himself the most impatient person on the planet, but this boy was actually driving him nuts.

"For the fourth time, you just have to balance this here,” Zhangjing says carefully while writing in numbers on the sheet. Upon seeing Yanjun’s confused look again that has remained unchanged for the past half hour, Zhangjing sighs loudly.

“No offense, but this is Intro Chem review, how are you this confused?” He whisper-shouted to Yanjun loudly. People turn to look at them, and Zhangjing feels his cheeks flush. “I mean, are you sure you’re supposed to be in this class? Maybe it’s a bit challenging for you.”

Yanjun chuckles. “Dude, if I don’t pass Biochem this semester and graduate next year, my dad is actually going to kill me.”

“Ah, right, the Lin Laboratory conglomerate doesn’t want people to know they have a son who can’t pass Chemistry,” Zhangjing lets his sass slip out before he can stop it. His eyes widen, and he quickly opens his mouth to apologize.

“You’re right about that, this is why I need the smartest Chem major to help me out,” Yanjun throws Zhangjing a wink without missing a beat.

Zhangjing is at a loss for words. “... Did you just… wink at me?” 

“You betcha,” Yanjun sits back and crosses his legs, throwing a small smirk in his direction.

Zhangjing tries really hard not to blush, so his brain decides that the best course of action is to snatch his own problem set worksheet up and shove it into Yanjun’s face. “Here, just take this, scan it, and give it back to me tomorrow in class. I’m done with it anyways.”

“For real? You’re the real homie,” Zhangjing cringes at Yanjun’s use of “homie,” but he watches anyways as Yanjun’s long fingers take the paper away from his face.

“Yeah, it’s fine, just change some of the answers or something, you know the deal,” Zhangjing mumbles while looking down at his hands.

“Of course, I’m not an amateur cheater,” Yanjun says. Zhangjing looks up, and sees Yanjun staring straight at him, again, legs still crossed and back against the chair in that annoyingly attractive stance, lips still pulled up in that goddamn smirk. “Seriously, though, I feel kind of bad, maybe I could buy dinner tonight or something?”

Before Zhangjing can overthink and say something dumb again, his mind jumps into action. In a sudden wind of courage that he didn’t know he had, he throws Yanjun a smile and answers a little shakily, “Of course, you owe me one.”

Zhangjing doesn’t really remember what they ate for dinner. All he remembers is the way Yanjun threw his head back when he laughed at his own dumb Chemistry pun, the way Yanjun likes to shake his leg while he isn’t talking, the way Yanjun’s eyes never breaks away from staring directly into his during conversation.

He was thinking about how much he wanted to poke a finger into Yanjun’s dimples when he suddenly notices that Yanjun has stopped talking.

“Zhangjing?” Yanjun cocks his head to the side in question.

“Huh?” Zhangjing snaps back into reality and feels something soft at the tip of his finger. Looking down, he realizes that he has actually done the Deed; he really went and poked the side of Yanjun’s fucking face . It’s surprisingly soft, his dumb brain notes.

Zhangjing snatches his hand back immediately, picks up his spoon, and shovels rice down his throat to quash the bubbling feeling in his stomach. “Oh my god, I’m sorry,” Zhangjing blubbers through a full mouth. “I didn’t mean to, it was just so...”

Yanjun blinks for a few seconds, then looks down, shakes his head, and chuckles. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Zhangjing slowly swallows his mouthful of rice, still unwilling to look Yanjun in the eye. “What does that mean?”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for dimples,” Yanjun says. Zhangjing looks up, mortified and about to defend himself, when he sees the teasing sparkle in Yanjun’s eye.

Zhangjing feels a wave of relief wash over him. “Shut up, you just had some rice on your face.”

"Yeah, right,” Yanjun laughs while poking at his food.

Zhangjing throws a carrot slice in Yanjun’s direction, but it only makes Yanjun laugh harder.

The rice doesn’t stop the bubbles from rising in Zhangjing’s stomach this time, and he just knows that he is absolutely fucked for the rest of the semester.

…Which is exactly what he tells Dinghao and Chaoze when back in their room that evening.

“Guys, don’t you care that your best friend is on the floor possibly suffering from cardiac arrest?” 

“Not particularly,” Chaoze says, stuffing another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “Chuck Bass’s face is honestly more appealing than whatever you’re about to tell us.”

"Yanjun laughed at me and called me smart,” Zhangjing blurts out, diving into Chaoze’s bed between the laptop and the two boys previously engrossed in Gossip Girl.

Dinghao throws a popcorn into Zhangjing’s face. “Chuck was about to kiss Blair! Fuck you,” he spits.

Chaoze sighs and closes his laptop. “Fine, I’ll bite. What happened?”

“So, I gave him my problem set for him to look over and then he treated me to dinner to thank-”

“Hold the fuck up, you gave him your  problem set ?” Chaoze suddenly sits up. “You don’t even give me your earbuds to listen to our music homework.”

“One time I stole a potato chip and you tackled me to the ground,” Dinghao crosses his arm in indignance.

“Okay so then we had dinner, and I did the most embarrassing thing,” Zhangjing ignores his friends’ useless comments and continues with his story.

"What did you do? Confess your eternal and undying love for him?” Dinghao has stopped fully paying attention at this point, choosing to pick at his cuticles instead.

“Oooh let me guess, you laughed so hard your face contorted again?” Chaoze crosses his arms and leans back against the bed.

Zhangjing recounts the rest of his embarrassing story of him (accidentally) caressing Yanjun’s face, though he leaves out the dimple specifics, because he didn’t want to be planting more ideas into Dinghao and Chaoze’s heads. Not that Zhangjing didn’t trust his friends, but he just knows that Dinghao would spread that shit everywhere. He does NOT have a dimple kink, nope.

After his dramatic recollection, Dinghao and Chaoze look at each other and promptly burst into laughter.

“I can’t believe you fucking did that,” Dinghao guffaws, spilling popcorn all over Chaoze’s bed.

“You win, Zhangjing,” Chaoze clutches his side, grabbing aimlessly to pick up the popcorn and wiping away his tears. "How to pick up a man 101: Touch their fucking face while they're talking." 

"You two are literally the worst,” Zhangjing faceplants into Chaoze’s pillow and groans.

After they’ve all settled down, Dinghao picks up a pillow to hug and brings his knees to his chest. Zhangjing knows this is Dinghao’s defense stance, a sign that he has something important to say.

“Speaking of embarrassing shit, there’s this kid in my vocal class who’s literally the most embarrassing person I’ve ever met.”

Zhangjing hoists himself up to sit on the bed instead of lying face down on it, happy to take the attention off of him for once. “More embarrassing than when Chaoze salsa-danced on a table in the school cafeteria after day drink-”

“Who is it?” Chaoze interrupts, smothering Zhangjing with another pillow.

“His name is Jeffrey? He literally tripped over air entering class on the first day,” Dinghao cringes at the memory. “And, get this, he sits next to me even though there’s like 30 empty seats left. Then he drops his audition music all over the floor, gives himself a papercut trying to pick them up, and then bumps his head on the chair in front of him.”

Zhangjing whistles. “That’s a pretty detailed recollection of something that happened five days ago for a person who hates memorizing anything except names of China’s top fuerdais.”

“But the worst part is that this guy sings better than me!” Dinghao whines and kicks his feet off the bed. “He’s so fucking good at singing that I almost cried listening to his audition piece, so naturally, he’s my arch-nemesis and I must hate him.”

“Well, here’s the million dollar question: is he gay?” Chaoze asks.

“Fuck if I care,” Dinghao retorts with a huff, picking up a piece of popcorn from the bed to eat.

This time, it’s Zhangjing and Chaoze’s turn to exchange looks.

Cai Xukun didn’t really know what he was expecting when he walked into Zhu Zhengting’s house in Arcadia on a Friday night, but it certainly wasn’t four tall boys chasing and throwing stuffed animals at each other in Zhengting’s foyer, Fan Chengcheng standing on top of the sofa shouting at them, and Zhengting in the kitchen baking cookies. Another extremely long boy was also sitting there, attempting to pick a warm cookie off of Zhengting’s plate.

“What,” Xukun says unintentionally as he takes in the scene around him.

Justin suddenly turns around from pounding Quanzhe’s head with a teddy bear and looks at Xukun. “Oh! Ge, you came,” he says a little breathlessly. “Zhengting-ge, Xukun-ge’s here!” After relaying the news, he turns back to attacking the purple-haired boy. Xukun feels a little bit of pity for him; it’s not really the kid’s fault he has to be friends with Justin.

“Why are you here? I thought Friday nights were reserved for your boy toy,” Zhengting winks. “Things worked out for the better, I see?”

Xukun groans. He’s honestly not surprised that Zhengting knows about his recent developments, as the center of the fuerdai gossip transit line. “Let’s not use inappropriate words in front of kids, Zhengting-ge.”

Although Ziyi had agreed to Xukun’s offer for a date this Friday, the reason why Xukun was here surrounded by weird freshmen and dealing with Zhu Zhengting’s mom-ness instead was because Ziyi had cancelled yesterday night, saying that his father suddenly called him back to China for a “business thing.” Xukun could understand, family duties, if not work, is something that is unavoidable in the way they were brought up. Ziyi did seem pretty apologetic about it, and they made plans to meet the week after.

“I knew you would snatch up that snack!” Xukun is brought back into the reality of his situation with a painful clap on his back. He looks to the right and sees Chengcheng grinning almost maniacally at Xukun.

“I swear to god Chengcheng-”

Justin stops tugging at Xinchun’s hoodie to yell, “Wang Ziyi’s not a snack, he’s a whole five course meal with a cherry on top!”

Xukun is in the middle of wondering how the heck Zhengting deals with the six of them on a daily basis when he suddenly gets pummeled in the face with a pillow. With a scowl, he picks it up and runs towards the hysteria in the middle of the living room. “Huang Minghao, get your flat ass back here!”

Zhengting leans his arms against the kitchen counter, looking from a safe distance at the raucous across the room. He whips his head around at the sound of crunching behind him, only to see Wenjun biting into one of his cookies.

“Bi Wenjun, I told you not to eat these, they’re not for you! I’m baking a batch for you guys in the oven right now.” Zhengting slaps Wenjun’s shoulder, puffing out his cheeks in annoyance.

Wenjun seems unfazed, and looks up at Zhengting after finishing his cookie with lazy eyes. “Who are these for, then? Your cute TA who has a girlfriend?”

At Zhengting’s silence and the red tint on his cheeks, Wenjun scoffs and takes another cookie.

“Shut up, it’s not even confirmed that Guan Xiaotong is dating him,” Zhengting mumbles.

“They were caught on camera kissing in a club a month ago, ge.” Wenjun reminds him. His words, although harsh, are delivered so softly and kindly that Zhengting can’t possibly get mad at him. He hates it when Wenjun is right, but unfortunately, Wenjun is always right. Zhengting sighs and pushes the plate of cooling cookies back towards Wenjun.

“Just eat ‘em all then,” Zhengting mumbles as he turns back to check on his second batch.

“I’m just saying, ge, you have so many more options out there who you’re ignoring because of this one very straight TA with a baby face.”

“Oh yeah? Who? Wenjun, name one person who has shown even the tiniest bit of interest in me since Cai Xukun two years ago.” Zhengting pokes a chopstick in one of the cookies. It’s still a bit doughy. At Wenjun’s silence, he answers his own question.

“See, you can’t name any, can’t you-”

Zhengting turns back triumphantly, thinking that he’s finally caught kindhearted and soft Wenjun lying through his teeth. Instead of looking guilty or avoiding his gaze, though, Wenjun is staring directly at Zhengting, with a half eaten cookie in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face. Zhengting feels a bit uncomfortable under the prolonged stare, yet it somehow doesn’t feel right to look away. After a couple seconds of awkward silence, Zhengting is about to turn back to the oven again when Wenjun finally looks back down at the plate of cookies and starts to speak.

“A shame for Luhan, though. These cookies are really amazing, ge.”

Zhengting sighs again, this time with a smile on his face.

He turns back to the cookies, so what he doesn’t notice is the tall boy excusing himself quietly to the bathroom to splash cold water all over his rapidly burning face.

Zhangjing, having pulled another all-nighter being forced to watch Gossip Girl with Chaoze, really didn’t want to practice on a Sunday afternoon. But, his first vocal exam is in four days, so he forces himself out of his bed, brushes his teeth, doesn’t even bother to brush his hair or change out of his sweats, and trudges like a zombie to the music building and into an empty classroom.

Despite his complaints, singing has always been the thing that Zhangjing loves doing the most. If his family’s income didn’t depend on his successful future as a doctor, he probably wouldn’t be majoring in Chemistry. Chaoze and Dinghao are in the same boat, but the two of them have found their homes in student-run acapella groups. Zhangjing’s never been able to feel comfortable in that crowd; he’s always preferred to express his own emotions through the music he sings himself. Even though this means that he has to settle for taking vocal electives and participating in the occasional Music department recitals, Zhangjing is still grateful that he has the chance to sing here.

Thirty minutes into practice, Zhangjing is finally getting into the groove of his song. Feeling proud of himself, he belts out the high notes, smiling as he sways his body to the slow beat. Finally satisfied with the way he sings the last note, he takes a small break to drink some water when suddenly, he hears a rustling from the doorway.

“Shit, I didn’t know that you sang.” That voice sounds a bit too familiar. Zhangjing squeezes his eyes shut, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, the person behind him will just dematerialize from-

“Was that Crush’s Beautiful ?” Zhangjing hears footsteps. “That’s my favorite song, how did you know?”

That comment makes Zhangjing turn around. Of course, it’s Yanjun standing in front of him with arms crossed, a smile on his face, and dressed in an infuriatingly attractive light blue button-down. Zhangjing feels incredibly self-conscious in his tattered Beyoncé concert tour t-shirt.

“Who said I was singing for you?” Zhangjing throws back.

“Right, sorry for intruding,” Yanjun actually looks sort of apologetic, arm reaching up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly.

A couple seconds of silence ensues, with Yanjun staring at the ground and Zhangjing trying to study his expression, unable to comprehend why Yanjun was even in the music building in the first place.

Zhangjing’s never been one to handle awkwardness well. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to continue-”

“You sing good!” Yanjun blurts out. “Well, I mean well. You sing well,” Yanjun lifts his head back up to look at Zhangjing directly, and although he still has his signature confident gleam in his eyes, Zhangjing can hear hesitation in the way Yanjun rushes his words. It’s a huge difference from the snarky banter that they have had going for the past few weeks, so Zhangjing’s thoughts are running around in his head trying to figure out what Yanjun is getting at.

“Um, thanks…?” Zhangjing trails off, taken aback by the abrupt compliment and not really knowing what to say. He can feel his cheeks starting to burn up.

“Are you performing this song anywhere?”

“It’s for my vocal exam next week, but otherwise no…. Why?”

“I’m part of the composition club, and I happen to be arranging a new version of this song. Do you think you could perform it for me?” Yanjun shifts his weight onto his other foot nervously.

Zhangjing is even more confused. Yanjun is part of the composition club? Yanjun has a hobby other than buying shoes and going clubbing? Yanjun is-

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just asked because you sounded pretty good, I guess,” Yanjun interrupts Zhangjing’s brain going into overload. When Zhangjing looks at him again, he seems to have regained his cool composure, casually picking his nails. This jerk.

“I mean, I guess, since you asked, yeah, I can do it,” Zhangjing says just as cooly, trying really hard not to blow his cover. “You owe me another one, though.”

“Nah, you’re the one with a dimple fetish, so I think this performance is to make up for all the times you’ve looked-”

“Fetish?? What the fuck, Lin Yanjun, I swear to god if you bring that up ever again I will-” Zhangjing storms over to Lin Yanjun and slaps his shoulder as hard as he can to shut him up.

“Ow! That hurts,” Yanjun whines, clutching his shoulder dramatically.

“It better,” Zhangjing huffs. “Message me the details of the performance. I need to practice but you’ve ruined my vibe, get out.” He points to the door and gives Yanjun the scariest glare he can muster.

It’s evidently not threatening enough, because Yanjun doesn’t break his smile as he puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving.”

Taking a huge sigh of relief as he tries to calm down his emotions again, Zhangjing turns back to his music stand.

“Zhangjing, one more thing,” He hears Yanjun call from the door.

He groans. “What now?”

“Your voice. It's amazing. See you in class.”

When Zhangjing whips his head around at the unexpected compliment, Yanjun is already gone.

Xukun is sweating. Los Angeles weather is unforgiving in August, and although it was also hot back home, nobody told Xukun that it would be upwards of 42 degrees Celsius here in Southern California. Whoever told him that California weather was mild can go fuck himself.

He and Ziyi had agreed to meet at the outdoors basketball courts, because apparently the both of them not only shared a hobby in dancing, but also the NBA. After a lot complaining from Xukun that he hadn’t played since middle school, Ziyi had finally convinced him to play a one-on-one with an enticing bet: if Xukun wins, Ziyi has to teach him a short b-boy routine. Xukun can only dance modern, thanks to Zhengting’s influence, so b-boying is something he’s always wanted to learn.

The two of them have been texting pretty constantly since their last meeting at the café. Ziyi, over text, uses wannabe hip-hop slang and weird abbreviations, but Xukun finds it sort of foolishly cute, even though personally, he would never do the same. Compared to his first meeting with him, Xukun felt like he had unlocked a new level of Wang Ziyi’s personality, just like in his VR game. It doesn’t help that the man’s smile was extremely endearing. Xukun really wants to see it again.

Xukun looks at the clock. 3:37 PM. They had planned to meet at 3:30. How is it that the boy is so responsive to texts, yet he’s late to every single meeting? One of Xukun’s biggest pet peeves is waiting. Honestly, it’s the reason why his work ethic is so good and he has a startup at age 21, but it’s also the cause of many rifts in his human relationships. Xukun knows this, so he tries to remain patient as he literally burns to a crisp under the hot sun with no shade in sight.

3:50 PM. Where the fuck is Wang Ziyi. Xukun decides that it is now appropriate to send the other party a kind text asking them for their whereabouts.

3:51 PM

Cai Xukun: Hey, where are you right now? :)

Xukun can’t stand the heat anymore, so he treks back to an academic building and loiters in a classroom, waiting for Ziyi’s response.

3:58 PM

Cai Xukun: I’m chilling in the literature building room 102. It’s too hot outside haha

It’s at this moment that Xukun hates Wechat for not implementing read receipts. Fuck people’s privacy, crucial knowledge is being lost without this privilege. Xukun vows to himself that if his startup fails, he’s going to get hired at Wechat and become the CEO somehow and decree read receipts a necessity once and for all.

At 4:15, when Xukun was seriously contemplating calling Zhengting, of all people, to ask him for advice, he sees a notification flash on his screen.

4:15 PM

Wang Ziyi: Heyyyyyyyy cutieee <3333 whr r YO U?

Wang Ziyi: I miss uuuuuuuu :(((( Come find meeeeeeeeeeeeee

Wang Ziyi: Lets hav som fun ;)))))

Wang Ziyi is sharing his location .

Xukun stares at his phone in absolute disbelief. He checks his calendar and scrolls up in his texts, just to make sure the date that he set up with Ziyi was real and not all a dream. Is the boy seriously smashed at a bar right now, in broad daylight? Did the boy seriously booty-call him, again?

4:18 PM

Cai Xukun: … Did you forget our basketball plans?

4:19 PM

Wang Ziyi: Oh shitt

Wang Ziyi: I forgto, I’m with XG rnnn

Wang Ziyi: Come 2 the bar, I’ll buy som drnks 2 make it pu

Wang Ziyi: I’ll do anytg u wanttttt heh ;)

Xukun is so angry. If there’s one thing he hates more than late people, it’s people who don’t show up at all without a warning. And even more so, people who are unapologetic about it. Too many years of his mom not coming back home when she said she would for Xukun to ever forget this knotted feeling of being abandoned in his stomach.

Xukun is also confused. He sits on his desk and stares at his phone, scrolling through past messages. Why does Ziyi seem like a different person every time he interacts with him? He was cold, then he was really forward, then he was kind, then he was open and amicable over text, and now he’s drunk off his ass and back to being a douchey fuckboy. An hour ago, he felt like he had leveled up in his interactions with Wang Ziyi. He felt like he had finally understood him better, not as a fuerdai fuckboy, but as an actual person. But now, it feels like this was the deceptive route, the route that doesn’t lead anywhere, the one that tricks him into dropping back down to level one, forcing him to start the mission all over again. Who is the real Ziyi? Is any of what he’s seen the real Ziyi?

More than anything else, though, Xukun is angry at himself for giving Ziyi the benefit of the doubt and letting himself believe that the boy had any interest in him as a person. Even though he’s now in an air-conditioned room, he can feel his cheeks flare up in the embarrassment of his own thoughts. That café meeting was probably just him trying to get in his pants. Xukun didn’t know what Ziyi wanted from him at first, but now he can confirm that it wasn’t anything serious at all. Ziyi just wanted another boy toy, just like Zhengting had phrased it. Zhengting had told him that Ziyi was a sheltered kid, but he was too optimistic and forgiving, as usual. Perhaps Ziyi is just, at his heart, a spoiled rich brat.

And Xukun should know better than to trust people like his past self.

bonus scene

Dinghao takes a large sip of his mimosa. “I need information on a guy called Jeffrey Dong.”

“Only if you give me the information you promised about Cai Xukun,” Zhengting throws back, putting a slice of pancake into his mouth.

“Fine, I saw him on Friday at the café next to the computer science building with Wang Ziyi,” Dinghao sits back with his arms crossed and pulls up a smirk. “They seemed pretty friendly with each other, friendly enough that the waiter had to tell them to be quiet multiple times.”

Zhengting whistles as he steals a piece of melon off of Dinghao’s plate. “Wow, I’ve heard that Wang Ziyi moves fast, but this is quite the development. Had to stop Xukun from nearly chopping the kid’s head off like a week ago.”

“Alright, now tell me everything you know about Jeffrey already, Zhengting,” Dinghao whines.

Zhengting bats his eyelashes innocently. “Why do you want to know, Lu Dinghao? Has our favorite sugar baby finally fallen in love with a fuerdai dad-”

“What the fuck, Zhu Zhengting, I thought we swore not to talk about this again-”

“Call me ge,” Zhengting slaps Dinghao lightly on the shoulder. “But did I lie, though?”

“Just tell me stuff about Jeffrey, or else I’m cancelling our biweekly brunch gossip sessions,” Dinghao threatens.

“Who’s the one paying for these anyways, you ungrateful brat,” Zhengting scowls but continues to answer Dinghao’s demands. “I don’t know Jeffrey that well, but his family runs a fashion business conglomerate. Roommates and best friends with Wang Ziyi.”

Dinghao scoffs. “Seemed like the type. He showed up to the first day of vocal class wearing a bright red Puma tracksuit.”

“Oh, but he’s hella good at singing. Heard he went on singing survival show back home or something and actually did sort of well? But his dad was against him pursuing a music career so he’s here studying business instead,” Zhengting shrugs, dumping more syrup on his already soaked pancakes.

“A rich kid, a good son, and a talented singer,” Dinghao angrily stabs his eggs benedict. “It’s unfair that he exists.”

Zhengting laughs incredulously, bits of pancake spewing all over the table.

“Gross, Zhu Zhengting.”

“Lu Dinghao calling someone other than himself perfect? What has this world come to?”

Dinghao downs the rest of his mimosa and points his empty glass in Zhengting’s face. “No one can be better than me at singing, except for maybe Zhangjing.” He clenches his fist. “This rich spoiled brat Jeffrey needs to be taken care of.”

Zhengting doesn’t reply, simply smiling down at his pancakes. He makes a mental note to keep an eye and an ear out for what could be the new hottest fuerdai topic at school.

Chapter Text

chapter 4 // i don’t want money; 我要你的爱 (i want your love)

“Ziyi, I swear to god, if you don’t get your face off your desk and finish your part of this Econ presentation, I’m going to step on your new limited edition Balenciaga shoes,” Linong throws Ziyi’s dirty sock towards his hunched back. He doesn’t budge.

“That’s Yanjun’s pet peeve, I wouldn’t even care if you threw them in a dumpster,” Ziyi retorts, facedown on his desk and voice muffled. “You know I’d just text Charbit’s son for a new pair.” 

“Fair,” Linong concedes. 

Xiao Gui sighs and slams his laptop shut assertively, turning his attention towards Ziyi, who still hasn’t moved an inch. “Or why don’t you just tell us why you’ve had a stick up your ass this entire week, so we can help you pull it out.”

“The imagery’s a bit gross, but I agree,” Jeffrey chimes in as he’s nonchalantly flipping through manga on his bed.

Ziyi bangs his head on the desk a couple of times before finally saying, words still muffled in ihs desk, “I fucked up.” 

Xiao Gui snorts. “We figured that much, dumbass. Tell us why you’re actually upset about it this time.”

“Remember when we went to the bar last Friday?”

“Barely, but that’s ‘cause you forced me to drink almost half a handle of Grey Goose,” Xiao Gui gags at the memory. “Why?”

“I may have forgotten that I had something to do that day.” Ziyi bangs his head on the table again.

Linong snorts and rolls his eyes. “Again, this isn’t surprising, Wang Ziyi. How many times have you received angry phone calls from your dad while feeling some random boy up in the club-”

“I was supposed to play basketball with Cai Xukun, okay?!” Ziyi suddenly sits up with an exasperated expression on his face, forehead red from all the table-hitting. “I forgot about it and stood him up, so now he won’t talk to me.”

Xiao Gui’s eyes widen almost comically. “Oh shit, bro.” 

Jeffrey finally looks up from his manga, doe eyes filled with sympathy. “Ziyi... “

Linong is the only one who scoffs. “Ziyi, if you were anyone else except for Xiao Gui, I would probably feel sorry for you.”

“Hey!” Xiao Gui interjects.

“But since you’re Wang Ziyi, son of the CEO of one of the biggest tech conglomerates in China, you treat people like trash because you assume they’ll always be sucking up to you anyways,” Linong’s words cut through the air, and a tense silence floods the room. Jeffrey, usually Ziyi’s staunch defender, silently goes back to flipping through his manga.

“Man, Linong’s kind of right, bro,” Xiao Gui adds. “Even a blockhead like you should know that Xukun ain’t that type of person.”

Ziyi slowly places his head back onto the desk.

“And I don’t know what your intentions are with Xukun, but given how miserable you look right now, he’s probably slightly different than all the rest of your boytoys,” Linong, having kept his thoughts on his friend’s actions bottled up for the past two years, is on a roll now. “I know you have no idea how to act like a normal human being with a crush, but I hope you learn from this fuckup that not everyone in this world has their life goal set as getting your dick, your money, or both.” 

“What else do I even have to offer?” Ziyi asks, mumbling to his desk. 

“Your love,” Jeffrey answers immediately, flipping a page of his manga. 

“... You know, for once, Jeffrey’s absolutely right,” Xiao Gui pats Jeffrey on the head.

Linong sighs and shakes his head disappointingly towards all three of them. “Just talk to him, Ziyi. I don’t know why I hang out with all of you dumb fucks.” 

Today is a pretty good day, Xukun thinks to himself as he packs his backpack up after class. The barista at the coffee shop gave him an extra cookie, he received nearly full marks on a project he pulled an all-nighter doing, and he’s about to head towards the dance studio to work on his routine with Zhengting for the student showcase this Saturday when he feels someone grab his shoulder outside the classroom.

“What the he-”

“Hey, can we talk?” Xukun turns around and sees Ziyi. He has his hair up today in a bun, and Xukun mentally slaps himself for thinking about how good he looks in that hairstyle instead of thinking of acceptable ways to murder him right here in the hallway. Xukun stares at the hand on his shoulder while thinking through all of this. Ziyi seems to notice and lets his hand drop immediately with a nervous grin.

“I’m sort of busy right now, I have rehearsal in 5 minutes, so-”

“Please, just give me five minut-”

“Look, Ziyi. You didn’t seem to respect my time last Friday, so I don’t see why you have the right to be demanding that I make time for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a show to prepare for.” Xukun brushes past Ziyi, willing himself to not look back at his beautiful face, now crestfallen.

“So?” Zhengting sidles up to Xukun during a water break, his gross, sweaty body stepping into Xukun’s space way too close for comfort.

“Ew, you’re so sweaty! Get away from me, ge,” Xukun pushes Zhengting away and chugs his water.

“Only if you tell me how it went with Balenciaga boy,” Zhengting whines, wrapping his arms around Xukun and clinging onto him even more.

“Augh! Gross!” Xukun struggles to peel Zhengting off. “Fine, fine! It went horrible, okay? He stood me up, drunk-booty-texted me, and then tried to talk to me today after class. I should’ve known better,” Xukun groans and lies down on the dance floor, putting an arm over his eyes in embarrassment.

“This little fucker stood my cute baby Xukun up?! Where is he, I’m going to go kick his ass back to China.”

Xukun sits up. “No, ge, please don’t do anything,” he pleads, “I just want this to blow over quietly because if anything, it’ll look bad on me,” Xukun plops back down on the floor. “I can just see the Wechat gossip circle headline right now: ‘Startup Genius Played By China’s Most Eligible Bachelor.’” 

“Yeah, well, you know who runs those gossip circles?” Zhengting waves his hands up in the air wildly. “I’ll make sure that the headline says ‘China’s Biggest Fuckboy Was A Fucking Asshole Dick To My Fucking Best Friend.” 

That makes Xukun laugh a little. “Thanks, ge. I’d join the group just to see it.”

Zhengting pats Xukun’s head reassuringly. “No more fuckboys.” 

“No more fuckboys,” Xukun agrees.

Why am I here?  Yanjun wonders briefly as he finds himself standing in front of room 302 of the music building, for the fifth time this week. This thought is quickly replaced when he hears someone start to sing. As usual, the door is closed. As usual, there is one boy in there, though only his silhouette is visible through the curtained window. As usual, he’s singing Crush’s Beautiful , hitting every note perfectly. And as usual, when he finishes the song, the boy gives himself a pep talk.

“Zhangjing, that was good, but you need to crescendo more during the climax. Your ending was a little shaky too; you could do better.” Zhangjing’s scolding tone directed at himself echoes through the thin walls, and Yanjun chuckles. He hears Zhangjing sigh out of frustration and walk over to his laptop to turn the background music back on. And as the song starts with the soft humming, Yanjun can almost see Zhangjing’s lips open to breathe in, ready to start singing again… 

“Yanjun?” Yanjun jolts awake to come face to face with very big and confused eyes. Zhangjing is crouched down to Yanjun’s level on the floor, staring at him curiously. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I, uh,” Shit, I gotta keep my cool, sound cool, Yanjun, sound cool! “I fell asleep waiting to use the room after you,” Yanjun kicks himself for his entirely obvious lie, but he has to fight on. “Y’know, to make some beats.”

Zhangjing looks around at the hallway of empty practice rooms and raises an eyebrow in disbelief. Yanjun feels his heart skip a beat. “By the way, when are we going to do a collaboration? I really want you in our group’s performance,” Yanjun quickly changes the subject, mustering all of the “cool” that hasn’t been drained from his body to look over at Zhangjing.

Zhangjing tilts his head up in thought. “I’ll do it. On one condition. We get an A on our lab report this Friday. And you do all the work.” Zhangjing flashes Yanjun a gummy smile. 

“An A?! All by myself?! That’s asking too much,” Yanjun whines. “And Thursday is Get High and Eat Haidilao night with the boys!”

Yanjun can see Zhangjing’s smile falter a little, and he immediately regrets what he said. But then Zhangjing crosses his arm and huffs, lips forming into a little pout. “Who’s been the one writing all of the lab reports until now? That's right, me. And then who is the one who had the audacity to fall asleep listening to my voice creepily outside the practice room? If I'm not mistaken, that's-”

“Alright, alright,” Yanjun groans, and puts his head on his forearm, hiding a smile. “It’s a deal.” 

Zhangjing’s gummy smile immediately returns, and Yanjun thinks that it’s a little bit cute. Just a little. “You better keep your promise, Lin Yanjun. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” He pats Yanjun’s knees, stands up, and walks off. Yanjun can’t help but stare at the way Zhangjing’s pants stretch as his figure further retreats down the hall.

Once Zhangjing is out of sight completely, Yanjun puts his head in his knees and groans. 

Zhangjing stares at the paper in his hands. He looks over at Yanjun, who has a smug smirk on his face. He looks back at the paper. On the top,  a huge, red A. “Impressive work -- marked improvement!” The professor even added a smiley face.

“I can’t believe-”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow in our band room, yeah? I’ll text you the room number.” Yanjun pats Zhangjing on the shoulder, gets up, and leaves. This time, it’s Zhangjing’s eyes that linger a little too long on Yanjun’s skinny jeans.

You Zhangjing: Did y’all know that Yanjun is actually smart?! He’s been fucking faking it this whole time I-

extra bitch: no duh don’t u remember what his family is

he just doesn’t try

nongfu’s sugar baby: but now we know he tries for u~~ :* 

You Zhangjing: shut the fuck up lu dinghao i hope jeffrey gets a better grade than u in ur singing class

nongfu’s sugar baby: ….. low blow

Dinghao walks into his vocal class with a huff. How dare Zhangjing insinuate that Jeffrey will get a better grade than him?! He’s in the middle of swearing at him through the phone when suddenly something hard hits his head and he drops his phone and sheet music.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Dinghao screeches, lunging for his phone that is his precious lifeline.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry-” The other person quickly bends down, scrambling for the papers, but becoming more of a nuisance than help as he crumples some sheets up and slips on the others.

“It’s alright, I can do it myself,” Dinghao snatches up the papers from the other person’s hands and looks up to glare, only to come face to face with… Jeffrey Dong.

“I’m sorry again,” Jeffrey puts his hand behind his head and rubs it, sheepishly. Lu Dinghao frowns even more at how freaking handsome he looks.

“It’s alright.” Lu Dinghao immediately squats down to continue picking up his music (so Jeffrey can’t notice the heat building up in his cheeks).

Why the fuck is he sitting next to me , Dinghao anxiously taps his chair leg. Jeffrey had gone out to use the restroom (that’s why he bumped into Dinghao in the first place) but then came back, took his stuff from his chair, and moved to sit next to Dinghao. Dinghao is so confused. So he goes to do what he always does when he’s confused; pull out his phone secretly and text his dumbfuck friends. Except this time, the phone doesn’t turn on. Dinghao freaks out a little. A lot. How much is it going to cost me to fix? I don’t have the money for this. Or any money, frankly. Fuck-fuck-fu- He shrieks a little bit, in the middle of rehearsal, and drops his phone again from his anxious, shaky hands. 

The professor stops the chorus. “Lu Dinghao?”

“Yes, sir. I apologize for the disturbance.” Dinghao keeps his head down, not daring to look up or squat to pick up his phone. He can feel everyone’s, but especially Jeffrey’s gaze on him. 

“Since you so graciously provided us with background noise during rehearsal, do you mind showing off your voice by singing measures 49-59 solo?” God fucking dammit , Dinghao cursed under his breath.

“Yes, sir.” Dinghao breathes in, and shakily starts to sing. The whole time, he can feel his face burning. He’s proud of his skills, but he did not want to be put on the spot like this. It doesn’t help that beside him, he can hear and feel Jeffrey fidgeting for some reason, and Dinghao visibly jolts when he feels something brush up against his ankle. 

“Sorry,” he hears Jeffrey whisper from beside him. He sees the professor raise an eyebrow. Without looking down, Dinghao continues sing.

“Thank you, Lu Dinghao. That was very good. Now class, let’s continue.” Dinghao breathes a sigh of relief. Until he feels a nudge at his side.

“Hey, uh, Dinghao,” Jeffrey whispers during their section’s rest measures.

“What,” Dinghao all but hisses, mad at Jeffrey for being the catalyst to all of this.

“I’m uh, sorry about your phone. I picked it up. I’ll go get it fixed and return it to you in class tomorrow.” 

Dinghao looks over at Jeffrey with a squint. “It’s okay, you don’t need to.” He reaches over to grab the phone. Jeffrey moves back a bit, avoiding the grasp.

“No, I’ll do it. Please, let me,” Jeffrey softly grabs Dinghao’s reaching arm and puts it back down on his side. “It’s the least I can do. For, like, crumpling your sheet music and breaking your phone. I’m sorry.”

Dinghao, mind going into overdrive and wrist still searing from the touch, stammers out, “O-oh, sure.” 

Their rest measures are over, and it takes all of the energy left in Dinghao to tear his eyes from Jeffrey’s earnest face, turn back around, and sing. He misses the glances that Jeffrey throws at him every five measures.

Zhangjing double checks the classroom number that Yanjun sent to him on his phone, and peers inside the classroom. He sees Yanjun sitting on a desk. The sun is shining through the window, making his white dress shirt slightly see-through. Quickly averting his eyes to Yanjun’s face, he sees Yanjun burst into a wide smile, throwing his head back and laughing at whatever someone else in the room said. The whole thing kind of happens in slow motion, and Zhangjing hates himself for it. 

Taking two deep breaths in, Zhangjing knocks on the door and pushes it open.

“You came!” Yanjun immediately turns his head over, smile only growing wider.

“How could I not hold up my side of the deal?” Zhangjing sets his bag down on a desk, making sure to keep his distance so Yanjun couldn’t notice the pink dusting his cheeks. He  nervously looks around. The only other person he sees is Xiao Gui, who is typing furiously in his phone.

“Is this my only reward? If I’m correct, I’m the one who got our first A,” Yanjun singsongs, not breaking eye contact with Zhangjing.

“....What do you want? A pat on the back?” Zhangjing scoffs.

“... How much are you willing to offer?” Yanjun moves closer. So close that Zhangjing’s sure he can see the dumb pink on his cheeks. He can practically feel Yanjun’s breath on his face and feels the urge to slap that snarky smile off his pretty face. 

“... What the heck, Yanjun,” Zhangjing pushes Yanjun out of the way before his face will literally explode from the heat. He walks towards the pile of sheet music in the center of the room.

“Oh, yeah, the vocal part is in there for you,” Xiao Gui mentions, finally putting his phone away.

“Thanks,” Zhangjing mumbles, not daring to look up. He fumbles through the sheet music. Why are there so many sheets?  

Suddenly, he feels a hand reaching over his shoulder. He turns around, and feels his lips accidentally graze Yanjun’s cheeks, which are now way too close for him to not spontaneously combust. He immediately whips his head back around, heart pounding. 

“... What are you doing?” Zhangjing asks in a tiny voice that comes out more like a squeak. He can not only hear, but feel Yanjun let out a soft chuckle. A shiver runs through his spine. 

“Helping you find your sheet music. It’s right here,” Yanjun says, pulling away. 

After taking a deep breath, Zhangjing turns around and puts on the fakest smile he can afford to muster. He takes the sheet music out of Yanjun’s hands, concentrating on keeping them steady. “Thanks, Yanjun. Can we start now?” 

Yanjun doesn’t answer. He looks to his side, and realizes that Yanjun’s other hand is still on the desk he is leaning on, half caging him in. Then, glancing up, he realizes that Yanjun hasn’t looked away. The gaze is intense and fixed on his own eyes, as if searching for something. Zhangjing can’t seem to look away. 

A loud screech echoes in the room, breaking the silence. Yanjun looks up, and Zhangjing turns his head around. Xiao Gui looks at them with an eyebrow raised, and puts his arm to his mouth for a purposeful cough. “Are we going to start any time soon? Or…” 

“Yeah, yeah. Are we doing a run-through? If so, I’m just going to sight read, I hope that’s okay-” Zhangjing scrambles away from Yanjun to grab the nearest music stand and nearly trips on two desks in an attempt to do so.

“Whoa, whoa, chill Little You. Let’s play the instrumental for you first.”

“Wait a sec, Zhangjing, you let Xiao Gui call you Little You???”

“Uh, I mean-”

“Yeah, what about it, Lin Yanjun?” Xiao Gui cocks an eyebrow with a grin.

Yanjun narrows his eyes. Then, with a shift turn, he pivots towards Zhangjing. “You Zhangjing, you’re telling me you let this little rat call you a pet name first before me ?” 

Yanjun looks genuinely angry. But maybe that’s just his face. Either way, Zhangjing’s heart starts to beat faster. 

“I-”

“Let’s play the instrumental, shall we?” Xiao Gui interrupts by strumming his guitar really loudly. Yanjun, thankfully, turns around towards the other music stand. Zhangjing lets out the breath he’s been holding for way too long.

After rehearsal, Zhangjing is packing up his sheet music and aiming to get out of the room as soon as possible. He doesn’t know how much longer he can survive in the same room as his crush, listening to him sing and play the guitar . 

“Hey, Little You, thanks for today. You’re really good. Looking forward to our perf, man!” Xiao Gui grabs Zhangjing’s hand and pulls him in for a bro-shake. Zhangjing winces at the shoulder impact. 

“No problem, Xiao Gui. See you next week.” Zhangjing waves to Xiao Gui as he exits, and then turns around to pack up the rest of his stuff. He almost yells in surprise, because Yanjun is right behind him, with his arms crossed and the same stern face as before.

“... Yes, Yanjun?” Zhangjing manages to stammer out, putting away his water bottle even faster.

Zhangjing looks as Yanjun puts his hand over his wrist to stop him from packing up, and then trails the hand back up to his face, which has broken into a soft smile.

“You… were amazing today. Thanks for doing this for me.”

Who gave him the audacity to be this soft?! What the fu-

Yanjun lets go of Zhangjing’s wrist and picks up his backpack in one smooth swoop, heading towards the door. Before leaving, he stops and turns around.

“See you in lab, little grapefruit.” 

Zhangjing drops his water bottle on the ground. He can hear Yanjun’s chuckle as the door closes.

“Zhengting-ge, I just don’t understand. What the fuck is wrong with him?”

Zhengting rubs circles in Xukun’s back. They’re sitting at a bar, because Zhengting had finally managed to convince Xukun to let off some steam. “He’s just a big Chinese dick,” Zhengting replies. Then, after a pause, he grins. “Pun intended.”

Xukun lightly punches Zhengting in the shoulder. “Shut the fuck up, ge. How would you even know?” He takes another swig of his drink.

“Xukun, slow down. You know you’re an ass drinker. And also, I hear things.” 

“Who’s the one who told me to let off some steam?” Xukun argues while calling the bartender for another glass.

“Yeah, I wanted you to let loose a little, not get piss drunk and pass out at this bar,” Zhengting shoots back, silently motioning to the bartender to not give the drink to him. The bartender shrugs sheepishly and holds up a receipt. Xukun had already paid.

“Who did you hear from that the fucker Ziyi has a big dick? I need to hear about him from another person,” Xukun drawls, putting his head on the table. He feels a bit dizzy.

“Shhh, you’re being too loud, Xukun, people will hear y-”

“I don’t FUCKING CARE if people hear me SHIT TALK THIS FUCKER, JUST TELL ME WHO YOU HEARD HIS DICK SIZE FROM?” Xukun shouts, pulling at Zhengting’s collar. The bartender hesitates with the drink, but then slides it quickly towards Xukun. Before Zhengting can reach for it, Xukun begins chugging.

“Which fucker’s dick size?” An unfamiliar voice asks. Actually, it’s familiar. Xukun whips his head around to come face to face with Ziyi. Hair slicked back, in a loosely fitted dark blue dress shirt, hands in the pockets of his tight pants, he looks unbelievably good. Xukun can’t fucking believe it.

“YOU, you fucker.” Xukun puts his drink down with a slam, and points his finger right into Ziyi’s chest. He leans really close into Ziyi, and says, unabashedly, “YOUR DICK SIZE. How dare you show up in my presence in this DISGUSTINGLY attractive manne-”

Then, he promptly passes out. Right into Ziyi’s chest. As he’s falling forward, Zhengting yells and lunges to pull him back, but Ziyi catches him first. 

“Oh my god, apologies Wang Ziyi. He probably meant nothing by that statement, I’ll take him back home-” 

“Hey, Zhengting-ge. It’s alright. I can take him back home. My friends and I were on our way out anyways. Zhengting looks behind Ziyi. He recognizes Jeffrey (mental note for Dinghao) and Xiao Gui. 

Zhengting is in a dilemma. Should he be a good friend and take Xukun back himself? Or should he be a good friend and allow this love story to pan out for itself? He looks at Ziyi and sees the way the man is slowly and carefully propping Xukun up and putting his arm over his shoulder. He catches the brief moment in which Ziyi brushes Xukun’s bangs out of his face, and pulls Xukun’s shirt up from falling too much down his shoulders. Then and there, Zhengting decides that he trusts Ziyi. 

“Alright, but please, one of you texts me when he’s back safe,” Zhengting says.

“We will, ge. See you now,” Ziyi drags a grumbling Xukun out of the bar slowly, making sure Xukun’s shoes don’t drag on the floor the entire way. Xiao Gui and Jeffrey whisper to each other behind them.

Zhengting settles back down into the bar. He sighs, swishes his drink around a couple of times, and pulls out his phone.

Zhu Zhengting: Hey, are you busy right now? 

Bi Wenjun: No, ge, what’s up?

Ziyi drags Xukun up four flights up stairs, visibly panting when he arrives at Xukun’s dorm room. The entire way, Xukun had been grumbling under his breath, in and out of consciousness. He couldn’t catch much, but he could hear words such as “Ziyi,” “dick,” “fuckwad,” “jerk,” and “soft shirt.”

“Alright, Xukun, we’re back,” Ziyi whispers to Xukun. He tries to fish his keys out of his pockets.

“Where the fuck are you touching?” Xukun tries to slap Ziyi’s hands away.

“I’m just trying to get your keys,” Ziyi finds them and unlocks the door.

Inside, Ziyi plops Xukun down on the bed, and goes to get him some water. Once he’s back, he props Xukun up to drink some. Xukun looks up at Ziyi, his gaze lingering on his lips. Ziyi tries hard not to look at him in the eyes. He turns around and starts to stand up from the bed.

“I’ll leave now, Xukun. Text me if you need anyth-”

“Sleep with me.”

“What?”

“I said what I said. Sleep with me, Wang Ziyi.” Xukun grabs Ziyi’s hand, and Ziyi turns around. He takes in Xukun’s tussled hair that he wants to mess up more, his half-buttoned shirt that exposes way too much for him to linger on, his swollen lips from the water, and his deep-brown eyes that won’t leave Ziyi’s.

Ziyi slowly puts Xukun’s hand back down by his side. “Xukun, as much as I would love to do that with you, you’re drunk right now, and I can’t.”

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t? You’ve fucked everyone on campus. Why won’t you fuck me?” Xukun reaches back for Ziyi’s arm and pulls him closer.

“Don’t do this, Xukun. I can control myself, but I have limits too.”

“I want to break that limit.” 

“Not tonight, Cai Xukun.”

“Fuck you, Wang Ziyi. Never doing what I want.” Xukun is drifting out of consciousness again. Ziyi catches himself lingering too long on Xukun’s exposed collarbone, so he closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. He eases Xukun back into bed, and Xukun’s hand drops from Ziyi’s. Once he hears soft snores, Ziyi pulls the blankets over Xukun’s body, places a fresh glass of water on his nightstand, and rushes out the door before more thoughts invade his mind.

Fuck, I need a long, cold shower tonight.

Chapter Text

chapter 5 // just because it won’t come easily, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try

“Wait, what ?!” The whole table comes to a standstill. Zeren’s hand drops from Yanchen’s cheeks, Justin pauses mid-trying to steal Chengcheng’s food, Quanzhe stops stuffing food in his mouth, and Xinchun looks up from the minions meme on his phone. 

“Like I said , if only you kids would listen , Bi Wenjun and I are dating. Right, Junjun?” Zhengting bats his eyelashes at Wenjun, who blushes softly and looks away. Chengcheng gags.

“...Ye-yeah. Zhengting-ge and I are… together now,” Wenjun echoes softly, not looking up from his plate. 

“So that’s why you invited me to this meal,” Xukun mutters under his breath, having felt out of place this entire dinner and head ringing from the chaos. He had suspected this from the beginning of the semester, when Zhengting had complained to him that his roommate was so unbelievably attractive, but also the quietest person he’s ever met.

“... I don’t believe it!! Two of my geges getting together right in front of my eyes..?! Why didn’t I notice then!” Justin lets out a huff in indignation.

“Because you and Chengcheng are too busy up in each other’s asses, Justin,” Zeren quips, ignoring Chengcheng’s second gag. “I, for one, saw this coming from miles away.” 

“Yeah, ever since Wenjun started smiling at his phone whenever Zhengting-ge texted him. I didn’t even know he knew how to use a phone,” Quanzhe chimes in, food falling out of his mouth.

“So.. when did this happen, like officially?” Xinchun chimes in.

“I invited Wenjun over to a bar I was at after Xukun left,” Zhengting shoots Xukun a Look. Xukun winces in return. 

“I asked him why, even when I told him stories or told him my problems or anything, he would listen and then not reply, so sometimes I thought he hated me. But then he also left me chocolates and my favorite snacks on my exam days and helped me make my bed whenever I was in a rush and was so nice but never talked to me. I was so confused, so I asked if he actually hated me as a roommate. While crying ,” Zhengting emphasizes. Xukun rolls his eyes at the dramatization. “He  told me through tears that he’s bad at talking and expressing his feelings so he does so through his actions, and that he doesn't hate me as a roommate, he likes me as a lover . How smooth is that! And the rest is history, yeah?” Zhengting gives Wenjun a little peck on the cheek. Wenjun blushes even harder. Chengcheng gags a third time. 

“Well.. I guess I’m happy for you. Even though I’ll see my geges less now,” Zeren pouts.

“Oh, shut up, Ding Zeren. You’re always too busy making out with Yanchen somewhere to hang out with us anyways,” Zhengting waves his hand. Zeren shrugs and shamelessly throws Yanchen a wink.

Before the room can get loud again, Zhengting changes the subject. “So, Xukun. How was your night with Wang Ziyi?”

“Wait, what ?!” Justin screeches again. 

Xukun groans. “Not here, ge.”

“Here is as good of a place as any. We’re a safe space,” Chengcheng reassures unreassuredly.

“I… don’t know what happened. One moment, I was pulling at Ziyi’s collar trying to kill him. The next, I’m awake, tucked in my bed with a glass of water on my nightstand,” Xukun admits.

“You didn’t confirm his dick size?” Zhengting questions innocently, cocking his head to the side. Xukun almost punches him. Almost.

“Shut it, Zhengting, or else your dick size will be zero very soon,” Xukun replies through gritted teeth.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing you. Was I too mean, Junjun?” Zhengting pouts and looks at his now-boyfriend. Wenjun doesn’t answer and pats Zhengting on the cheek instead with a soft smile. This time, Xukun is the one who resists the urge to gag.

After a couple minutes of uncharacteristic silence, Justin blurts out, “Wait, so does that mean Xukun boned Ziyi?!” 

This time, Xukun really slaps Justin upside the head.

Zhangjing walks into the rehearsal room and breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn’t see anyone there yet. Good. He has some extra time to mentally prepare himself to hold a poker face through an hour of Yanjun’s beauty. 

As he’s pulling out his sheet music to review, the door opens, and Yanjun walks in holding a vanilla frappuccino, as usual. Except today, he has two. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Yanjun says as he saunters in, “But I got you this,” he adds as he slides the second frappuccino in front of Zhangjing.

“... This is for me?” Zhangjing asks, flustered. He immediately hates himself for it. Of course, idiot, who else is in this room?

“Yeah, gotta bribe our star singer.” Yanjun flashes Zhangjing a smile as he sets down his bookbag.

Zhangjing knows his cheeks are turning red, but pointedly ignores them. “What about Xiao Gui, our star guitarist?” 

“Oh, he ate something bad at Haidilao yesterday. He’s out for the day.” Yanjun shakes his head. “I feel bad for that Haidilao, though. Xiao Gui’s dad is suing them out of business. Where else will we go for our Thursday dinners?” 

Oh right, Dinghao did mention something about Xiao Gui hogging the bathroom all day . “Oh… I hope he feels better,” Zhangjing offers lamely, trying not to focus on the way Yanjun’s muscles shift through his thin white shirt while picking up his guitar. 

“You’re not going to drink the frap?” Yanjun tilts his head in question, and Zhangjing can almost see a hint of disappointment in his eyes. But maybe he’s overthinking.

“Oh, um, I really want to… but… I’m on a diet… lately…” Zhangjing trails off and looks away. Truth be told, he really wants to lose those stubborn five pounds to look good on stage next to Yanjun, The God! But he can’t verbalize that.

“On a diet? To lose those precious cheeks?” Yanjun shakes his head and reaches over towards Zhangjing. Before Zhangjing’s brain can register what’s happening, he feels Yanjun’s hands squishing his cheeks.

“Uh-”

“You better drink this frap, little grapefruit. If those cheeks are gone next week, I’ll stop helping out on lab reports.” 

“Not that you’ve helped out in the first place,” Zhangjing mutters under his breath.

“Hm?” Zhangjing feels an extra pressure on his face. He looks up, and Yanjun is doing that damn smirk he does whenever he teases him.

“Nothing! I’ll drink it, I’ll drink it,” Zhangjing grabs the frappuccino and moves away from Yanjun’s long fingers. He takes a long, exaggerated sip. 

“Good,” Yanjun says, patting Zhangjing on the head and then moving away to pick up his sheet music. “Let’s start, yeah?” 

Zhangjing almost chokes on his drink. “Y-yeah,” he manages. The taste of sweet vanilla lingers in his mouth.

As they’re packing up in silence, Yanjun suddenly asks, “What songs have you been practicing lately?” 

“I’m starting a new piece for my next vocal evaluation,” Zhangjing answers warily, sipping on his frap.

“Really?” Yanjun’s smile is back. “Can you sing a little bit of it here?” 

Zhangjing hesitates. “... It’s really rough right now, I don’t know if I can-”

“Come on, little grapefruit. It’s just me.” Yanjun moves closer to Zhangjing and takes the frap out of his hands.

“Hey! I thought you wanted me to finish that,” Zhangjing protests, trying to grab it back. His height, unfortunately, gets the better of him.

“Yes, after you sing. Please?” His tone is softer now, and he looks at Zhangjing with a pleading gaze.

Of course, Zhangjing can’t say no to Yanjun, ever. Especially with those eyes. “Okay, but you have to promise not to judge me if it’s bad. I only started three days ago,” Zhangjing warns.

“Yes, sir.” Satisfied, Yanjun quickly settles himself in a desk and puts his head between his hands, ready to listen. It’s… cute. 

Zhangjing shuffles his papers a bit. Taking a deep breath in, he starts to sing.

We had a good thing going lately

Might not have always been a fairy tale

But you know and I know

That they ain't real

I'll take the truth over the story

Don't you tell me that it wasn't meant to be

Call it quits

Call it destiny

Just because it won't come easily

Doesn't mean we shouldn't try

Silence rings in the room as Zhangjing finishes his final note. Even after a couple of seconds, Yanjun’s gaze doesn’t leave Zhangjing. It’s different; hot, heavy, and dark. Zhangjing feels his entire body burning up.

“Uh, yeah, so I’ve only got two stanzas down so f-”

Suddenly, Zhangjing can’t see. Instead, he only feels soft, warm lips pressing against his own; eagerly, but not demanding. He feels Yanjun’s hands cupping his cheeks and Yanjun’s bangs brushing his forehead. And then, slowly, Yanjun pulls away, hesitating fingers still lingering on his face. He searches Yanjun’s eyes, which seem filled with desire, confusion, and honestly, a little panic. Then, as if something registers in his mind, he abruptly takes a step back.

“Um, that was really good,” Yanjun laughs a little awkwardly. Zhangjing honestly isn’t sure if he’s talking about the song.

“T-thanks,” Zhangjing replies, not knowing where to look.

“Here’s your frappuccino back, uh, sorry I took it,” Yanjun thrusts the melted frap back into Zhangjing’s hands. Their fingertips brush, and Zhangjing’s hands feel warm despite the cold drink.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Zhangjing says dumbly.  

“I’ll head out now, Xiao Gui uh, needs me to get him some Tums or some shit.” Yanjun throws his book bag over his shoulders and picks up his guitar. “See you later, little grapefruit.” Yanjun lunges for the door and is out before Zhangjing can even process what happened.

Zhangjing’s fingers linger on his lips. What the actual fuck.

Xukun enters the café and is surprised to see Wang Ziyi already sitting at a booth. He sits down across from him, and is surprised to see that Wang Ziyi has already ordered him a drink. Iced Americano. How did he know Xukun liked that? 

“Thanks for ordering the drink.”

“No problem. How are you feeling?”

“What?”

“You were pretty drunk that day.”

Xukun resists the urge to laugh incredulously. Except he can’t, so he does it anyways. “Yeah, and that was a week ago. I’m fine, thank you for asking.” Xukun takes a sip of his drink.

They sit in a couple seconds of silence. Ziyi is swirling the ice cubes in his iced latte. Xukun catches himself inadvertently staring at his long fingers. 

Finally, he breaks the silence. “Look, I just want to apologize to you.” Xukun had asked Ziyi, over his pride and self-respect, to meet him at the café today because he felt indebted to Ziyi. And if there is anyone in the world he did not want to feel indebted to, it would be Wang Ziyi.

“For what…?”

“You know, for the trouble of taking me back home that one night. I was really drunk, I’m sorry,” Xukun half-mumbles, not looking at Ziyi in the eye.

Ziyi lowers his head to meet Xukun’s gaze anyways, smiling mischievously. “Are you sure that’s all you want to apologize for?”

“... Huh?”

Ziyi’s eyes widen in confusion. “You don’t remember what happened?” Xukun tries not to freak out. What happened? He can’t remember for the life of him. Does he actually know Ziyi’s dick s- Xukun shakes that thought from his head. 

“Um, I remember seeing you at the bar, and when I woke up, I was in my bed. Zhengting told me you brought me back that night.” Xukun doesn’t mention the fact that he had been talking to Zhengting about Ziyi’s dick size before seeing him. But truly, he doesn’t remember anything after that except Ziyi’s handsome face and that really nice silk shirt he was wearing.

Ziyi bursts out in laughter, throwing his whole head back. Xukun narrows his eyes in annoyance. “What is so funny,” he demands more than asks.

“Don’t worry about it. I do think you owe me another apology though,” Ziyi smirks. Back to his cocky self.

“For… what?” Xukun says through gritted teeth. Though he’s not really sure he wants to hear the answer.

“Do you want me to say it out loud?” 

“Don’t try me, Wang Ziyi.”

“For yelling about and almost beating me up for my dick in public, for soliciting sex from me while drunk but swearing at me when I declined, and might I mention you yelling in public about my dick-” 

“What the fuck? Stop lying to me, Wang Ziyi. There is no way I would have asked you to fuck me.” Xukun can feel his face burning up. Though his memories from that night are really hazy, he did remember thinking that Wang Ziyi looked… hot. But he couldn’t possibly have gone so far as to ask for sex , right…? 

“So… you’re saying that you would ask for the other way around?” Ziyi’s smirk grows wider, and he leans closer, putting his forearms on the table and cocking his head innocently at Xukun.

“Shut the fuck up, Wang Ziyi. You know what I mean. I might not remember, but I know myself and there’s no way I would ever want to have sex with you, in any way.” Xukun huffs and takes a giant sip of iced americano to cool himself down, looking away so Ziyi won’t see his reddening cheeks.

Ziyi chuckles again. “Fine, I accept your apology. On one condition.”

Xukun expected this and had come to this meeting mentally prepared to throw a drink in Ziyi’s face if he suggested anything ridiculous, at Zhengting’s suggestion. “Like they do in the k-dramas,” he had (un)helpfully offered.

“...And what is it?”

Ziyi reaches over and puts his hand under Xukun’s chin to turn his face towards him. Xukun opens his mouth to protest, but all the incisive words seem to fly out of his mouth when he catches Ziyi’s gaze: confident, unwavering, but uncharacteristically earnest.

“Let me chase you properly.” 

“So… let me get this straight. Pun intended. Haha. You were practicing with Zhangjing for your performance. And then afterwards, you asked him to sing for you. And then… you kissed him?” Linong is sitting at Yanjun’s desk, arms crossed with a deadpan face, facing the latter who is lying face-down on his bed.

“For the tenth time, yes, Linong, that is what happened,” Yanjun shouts into his pillow.

“But that doesn’t make sense. Time-sequence wise, I mean.We all knew you were gay, bu-”

“What do you mean you all knew I was gay ?!” Yanjun suddenly sits up on his bed, expression indignant. “I’ve never dated or kissed a boy in my life! … Until now,” he groans, and falls back into his former position.

Linong rolls his eyes. “Come on, Yanjun. You’ve been talking about Zhangjing nonstop since the beginning of the semester.”

“I just like to tease him!!” Yanjun whines in protest. “It’s fun to see his reactions, and I like it when he gets all flustered! His expressions are funny, so I like telling you all what happens. Also, he’s smart and does all the work in bio! I can’t not be friends with him, or else I’ll actually have to put in work for the class.” 

“Then, why did you kiss him?” There’s a hint of annoyance in Linong’s voice. He can’t believe through all the things that Linong has had to help Yanjun drag his ass out of, he even has to drag Yanjun’s ass out of the closet. 

“I don’t fucking know!!!” Yanjun wails and throws kicks in his bed. “He just- the song was just- so good, and- it just hit different? I don’t know, I just felt really compelled to do it…”

“Dare I say, your heart fluttered?” Linong suggests nonchalantly.

Yanjun shoots up in his bed again. “Yes! That’s exactly it. My heart fluttered. It was an impulse decision driven by a momentary, fleeting emotion. Simply because Zhangjing is good at singing and moved me. In that moment. Right, there’s no way it’s anything else. It’s fine. It’s fine . Kissing guys is no problem. I’m not homophobic.” 

Linong’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. “Lin Yanjun, it’s okay to have feelings for Zhangjing. He’s cute, he’s a good friend, he’s amazing at singing, he’s smart, and he’s funny.”

“Yeah, I know Zhangjing is cute, a good friend, amazing at singing, and smart. But I don’t have The Feels . It just can’t be true. I’ve liked women all of my life?”

“Sexuality is a spectrum, my friend. Did you listen at all in Intro to Gender Studies our freshman year?”

“You know all I did in that class was flirt with that one hot ABG.”

Linong groans. “Okay, let’s try this. Jeopardy speed-round style. Answer every question in less than three seconds. Do you like spending time with Zhangjing?”

“Yes,” Yanjun answers without missing a beat. 

“Why?”

“He’s fun to talk to, fun to tease, and a good listener.” 

“Right. Why is he fun to tease?”

“His reactions are cute,” Yanjun answers without really thinking. 

Linong smiles. “How so?”

“When he gets flustered he likes to punch me in the arm but he’s weak so it actually doesn’t hurt. And sometimes he turns all red and I just want to pinch those chubby cheeks. They’re so c-” Seeing Linong’s smile grow even wider, Yanjun catches himself. “Wait, no, I just mean that he has funny reactions. That’s all.” 

“Hm… and what about the kiss?”

“What about it?”

“You don’t get to ask me questions. How did you feel about it?”

“Uh…” Yanjun’s unfaithful mind quickly speeds him back to the memory of feeling Zhangjing’s lips on his, the soft taste of the peach lip balm he always pulls out during their lab report sessions mixed with the sweet scent of vanilla. He remembers Zhangjing’s small squeak of surprise, he remembers the gentle velvet feeling of his cheeks, he remembers the fresh scent of cotton on Zhangjing’s…

“Hello? Earth to our newly whipped Lin Yanjun?”

“Huh?” Yanjun quickly snaps out of it. Linong waves his hands maniacally in front of Yanjun’s face, which is rapidly burning up.

“Just tell me this, if you had a chance, would you do it again?”

“What?”

“The kiss, you headass,” Linong deadpans.

Yanjun pauses. Then, he throws himself back into his initial position on his bed, smothering his face into the pillows.

“Fuck. Chen Linong, I like him, don’t I?” He asks softly through his pillows.

“You’re such a dumbfuck, you know that, Yanjun?” Chen Linong sighs in exasperation and throws another pillow at his head.

Dinghao can’t believe this is happening to him right now. He’s in a duet assignment with Jeffrey Dong? There’s no fucking way he’s letting this klutz overshadow him, in both vocal talent and physical beauty. Dinghao enters the classroom in a huff, throwing his bag on the desk and plopping down on the chair. He’s just about to plan out his diet and work out regime to up his appearance before the class performance when he notices that Jeffrey is already in the room, sitting awkwardly straight in the desk next to him.

“...”

“Oh my god, you were here? Why are you staring at me?” Dinghao looks over, startled at Jeffrey’s weirdly prolonged stare. “Are we starting, or?”

“Oh, I just wanted to give you your phone back first…” Jeffrey fishes in his backpack and pulls out a newly packaged iPhone XS.

“Wait what? This isn’t my phone.” Where was his teeny, horribly cracked iPhone 5? 

“Um, I went to ten shops, but they all said your phone was unfixable… so… I got you another one…” Jeffrey looks away sheepishly. “Do you not like this phone? I can get you another brand if you would like…”

“No, no!” Dinghao is flustered at the sheer amount of money that Jeffrey is willing to throw away. Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. “I… just don’t know if I can accept such a replacement. I can get my own phone, don’t worry.” Even though Dinghao would die for the camera quality of an iPhone XS, he still has social tact. He couldn’t accept such an expensive item from a near-stranger.

“No, please take it… I insist. I already bought it... “ Jeffrey pauses, thinking for a second. “And, I got it discounted because my dad is best friends with an Apple executiv-”

“Really? Well, in that case, I am eternally indebted to you, Jeffrey Dong,” Lu Dinghao doesn’t take any chances and takes the phone from Jeffrey’s hands immediately. This kid is smart , he thinks. Dinghao does feel a little better knowing that it was discounted.

Jeffrey breaks into a small smile. “Yay,” he says softly. “I hope you like it.”

“I do, Jeffrey, don’t worry,” Dinghao is trying hard not to squeal in excitement. He can just imagine Chaoze’s jealousy tonight at dinner. In his happiness, he misses the way Jeffrey is looking at him, enjoying the excitement painted all over Dinghao’s face.

Ziyi is in the wings waiting for Xukun after his dance show. “Was your performance of ‘Wait Wait Wait’ about me?” He asks while offering Xukun a bouquet of roses the size of a basketball.

“Shut up,” Xukun answers while accepting the roses.

“You were really amazing up there, Cai Xukun,” Wang Ziyi smiles. Xukun almost believes that he’s being earnest.

“Thanks,” Xukun says nonchalantly. He tries not to show his delight at the compliment.

“Are you hungry? Let’s get dinner.”

“No thanks. I have to rehearse for my performance tomorrow.”

“My treat. Anything you want.” 

“Don’t belittle me with your money, Wang Ziyi. Thanks for the roses, though,” Xukun waves to Ziyi and turns back to join the rest of his dance members.

Ziyi is at the classroom door waiting for Xukun to pack up his presentation materials. “Your presentation on your game was amazing. I’m glad I invested in it.” This time, Ziyi offers Xukun some boba. Xukun takes a sip. Half sweet, less ice. How did he know?

“Your dad invested in it. Don’t give yourself too much credit, Wang Ziyi.” 

“Still, you were great up there. The audience was enthralled, though I’m not really sure who was really there for the content, and who was there from your fanclub,” Ziyi shrugs.

“What, are you jealous?” 

“What if I am?” Ziyi answers, without missing a beat. Xukun pauses mid-sip, unable to counter that question.

 “Anyways, want to tell me more about your idea of a virtual reality future over lunch?”

“I have a CS test to study for.” Xukun picks up his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. “Thanks for the boba, though.” He pats Ziyi on the shoulder and leaves the room.

Ziyi sighs. When will he win?

The last straw for Xukun comes during dance practice. “Hey, Cai Xukun, isn’t that Wang Ziyi waving at you?” Yanchen points towards the window, where Ziyi is waving vigorously. The rest of the dance crew is whispering to each other curiously. Xukun internally groans.

“Yeah, just ignore him. We have to finish learning this count of 8.” Xukun motions for Ziyi to leave and continues to play the music.

“Kunkun, you’re being too harsh,” Zhengting warns.

“Whose side are you on, Zhengting-ge?” Xukun flashes him a glare.

Zhengting looks pitifully at Ziyi sweating in the sun outside. “Just saying…” 

“5, 6, 7, 8!” Xukun shouts, drowning out Zhengting’s protests. 

An hour and a half later, after dance practice is over, Xukun walks out of the room with a towel around his neck. He is genuinely surprised to see Ziyi still there with sweat beads on his forehead, holding an iced americano. “Thought you needed some caffeine to keep you going for the rest of the day.”

Xukun accepts the drink. “Alright, just tell me. What do you want?”

“Nothing. I thought I told you that I would chase you properly,” Ziyi answers. He takes a step closer and grabs the towel hanging from Xukun’s shoulders, wiping it on Xukun’s sweaty cheeks. The closeness makes Xukun’s heart skip a beat.

“Do you want to get dinner?” Ziyi asks without taking a step away, staring into Xukun’s eyes.

“I… have another midterm tomorrow,” Xukun answers. He sees Ziyi’s gaze falter a little, and for the first time, his heart wrenches too. 

“...But, I’m free this weekend?” he offers instead. Fuck, why did I say that? 

Ziyi’s eyes light up again immediately. “Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I have plans on Saturday,” Xukun looks down to avoid Ziyi’s gaze. I guess there’s no backing out now.

“You’re sure?” Ziyi is smiling widely now, and he bends down to meet Xukun in the eye. It’s a rare look, and Xukun briefly thinks that he wants to make Ziyi do that more often.

“Stop asking before I change my mind,” Xukun turns around to pick up his bag (and hide his own smile).

“Alright, I’ll text you the address!” Ziyi says excitedly. “Saturday night!”

“Yeah, see you then.” Xukun heads out in the other direction, throwing Ziyi a nonchalant wave.

“It’s a date!!” Ziyi shouts after him. 

Xukun doesn’t stop smiling the entire walk back to his room, ignoring the incessant buzzing on his phone from Zhengting’s texts.

At 5:50 PM, Xukun receives a text from Ziyi, telling him that he’s waiting outside his dorm complex. “Shit, Zhengting-ge, he’s here!”

“What? Didn’t you say he was always late?”

“Not this time!” Xukun all but shrieks. “I haven’t even done my hair yet!”

“Relax, Kunkun. Sit down, I’ll gel it for you while you calm your nerves.” Zhengting guides Xukun down to the desk.

“Do you think this outfit will be okay? He still is refusing to tell me where we’re going,” Xukun gestures nervously. He wasn’t sure how to dress for the occasion, but he had settled for a comfortable fit: black skinny jeans, combat boots, and loose-fitting but nice white t-shirt. 

“I’m sure many people out there would be dying to tell you this, but you look amazing in anything, Kunkun,” Zhengting says simply while fussing with his hair. “Literally you could go out with Ziyi in a trash bag and no one would blink an eye.”

Xukun rolls his eyes, but that gets a laugh out of him. “Thanks, ge.”

Ziyi is waiting at the dorm entrance, leaning against the hood of his sleek white Mercedes Benz. He’s dressed in that damn silk blue dress shirt and plain slacks, with his hair tied back. He looks up when Xukun walks out of the building, tilting his sunglasses down so he can get a better view.

“You look amazing, Cai Xukun.” Ziyi hands Xukun a small bouquet of red roses as he steps over to face him.

“Don’t look at me like that, you pervert,” Xukun replies, but hides his smile behind the flowers. “Your shirt… is nice, I guess.”

“I know,” Ziyi says without missing a beat, lips rising into a smirk. Xukun has a brief flashback to the feeling of that silky shirt on his alcohol-induced burning cheeks. He feels them heating up again.

“Never mind. It’s the ugliest shirt I’ve ever seen.” Xukun quickly moves past Ziyi and gets in the passenger seat. “Aren’t we going to be late?”

“I’m never late to anything. Everyone else is simply early.” Ziyi closes the door behind Xukun and calmly slides into the driver’s seat.

Xukun rolls his eyes, but doesn’t really know how to refute that statement.

Xukun feels out of place as soon as they walk into the restaurant. Heck, as soon as they pull into the parking area and two men in suits open the door and usher them to the entrance of the building. The restaurant is on the 50th floor of some skyscraper in downtown LA, and the only people Xukun sees sitting at the elegant tables are old white men in evening suits and women in full-length gowns. 

“Ziyi, why didn’t you tell me we were coming to a place like this?” Xukun says in a hushed whisper.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says as he hands his trenchcoat to the coat check. “Isn’t it nice? This is one of my favorite restaurants to go to on a date.” The host greets with a warm smile and a “Welcome back, Mr. Wang.”

Xukun flinches. So he’s taken other love interests here too? “Maybe you should’ve at least told me we’d be here so I wouldn’t have come in a t-shirt, Ziyi,” Xukun hisses. 

“Shh, it’s okay, you look good,” Ziyi pats Xukun’s head as they head to their table. But Xukun can feel gazes on him, judging his dyed hair, his ripped skinny jeans, his combat boots, his white shirt in a space that decidedly would not have let him sit down if it weren’t for Ziyi. 

As they’re seated, the waiter asks Ziyi if he or Xukun would like anything to drink. Ziyi says a bunch of words that Xukun doesn’t even understand. 

Later, when the waiter comes with the bottle of red wine and the menus, Xukun sees that the bottle Ziyi asked for is $400. Xukun is rich too, but not this rich. 

“Is it good?” Ziyi asks.

Xukun feels too embarrassed to say that he honestly can’t tell the difference between this and $5 Franzia boxed wine. Plus, he doesn’t even like red. “Yeah,” he answers.

Also, nothing on the menu makes sense to him. It’s not like his English is bad, it’s just that this is English mixed with Italian words he has never had to use, nor seen, in his entire life. So, he just orders the cheapest thing on the menu. He watches as Ziyi orders the $100 filet mignon. Medium rare.

Xukun feels uncomfortable the whole dinner. He feels self-conscious about the way he’s dressed, frustrated at the fact that he doesn’t know anything that’s going on, and annoyed that Ziyi speaks for him the entire time with the waiter. “We’ll do this , we’ll have that. He’ll have this , he enjoys that very much.” It feels humiliating, and Xukun’s cheeks burn in shame.

“Xukun, are you okay? You’ve been silent today,” Ziyi comments as the waiter clears their table for dessert, which is another name that Xukun could not recognize.

“Yeah,” Xukun answers, “I’m fine.” He sort of also feels guilty for feeling this way. He should not be ungrateful, because Ziyi is trying his best. 

Or is he? Isn’t this what he does for “all of his dates”? Is this what he really wants the rest of their relationship to be like? Ziyi throwing money at Xukun to court him? Xukun staying silent through their whole relationship, everywhere they go? Will Ziyi really be able to change his ways? Xukun gets more and more frustrated thinking about it, feeling stuck and confused.

After dinner, the car ride back to Xukun’s dorm is relatively silent. These thoughts are still running through Xukun’s head.

“Can I tell you something, Ziyi?”

“Of course.”

“I appreciate you taking me out for dinner.”

Ziyi pulls up to the dorm and puts the brake in parking. Slowly, he turns himself to face Xukun. Xukun looks over and takes in Ziyi’s wavering gaze. 

“But, Wang Ziyi, I hope you realize that you can’t buy me. Not with fancy dinners or elaborate rose bouquets. I’m not a prize that you can win just by spending obscene amounts of money and some slick words.”

He can see Ziyi’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to speak, but Xukun barrels on.

“I like you, Ziyi. And I know you know that. But, when will you realize that I only want you? Not your money, not your fame or clout, not your car, and not or your limited edition shoes. Just you for you, the you that helps me back to my dorm while drunk, the you failing at my VR game, the you that knows my favorite coffee and boba order.” 

Xukun looks up again at Ziyi. He can see the confusion, the mix of feelings that seem so out of reach right now. Xukun tries his best to control his own emotions, but he can feel his lip quaver slightly. “I know I’m not what you’re used to Wang Ziyi,” he manages out softly. “And I don’t know if I can ever be.” 

“But, Xukun, I want to date you . When will you realize that?” Ziyi answers, looking at Xukun with frustration in his eyes. He reaches over to cup Xukun’s cheek, but Xukun grabs his wrist and pushes his arm down before he can do it, shaking his head. 

“This won’t be as easy as you think, Wang Ziyi.” 

Xukun opens the car door and gets out, ignoring Ziyi’s “Xukun, wait-”

He resists the urge to look back and feels tears welling up in his eyes as he checks in at the dorm counter, but furiously wipes them away. 

“HE DID WHAT?” Chaoze screams in Zhangjing’s face, even though they’re sitting one foot apart. 

Zhangjing winces. “Shhh, he’ll be here any second now! What if he hears-”

“You should’ve told me earlier, then.” Chaoze ignores Zhangjing’s plea. “He KISSED you? On the LIPS ?” 

“Yes… and then he acted like it didn’t just happen and ran out the door. He hasn’t brought it up in bio all week, and sometimes I find myself wondering whether it was all a dream.”

“THAT SON OF A BITCH,” Chaoze yells. “Taking advantage of my Zhangjing? I’LL SHOW HIM WHAT’S U-”

Suddenly, there’s a sharp knock. Zhangjing immediately tackles Chaoze into the bed, sitting on top of him and putting a hand over his mouth. He’s about to get off and rush to the door when he sees Yanjun come in without notice. Yanjun looks up from his phone and his eyes widen when he sees the two of them in the compromising position on the bed. Zhangjing can feel the panic rise in his throat.

“Uh-” Zhangjing starts. Chaoze grabs Zhangjing’s wrist to take his hand off from his mouth.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry if I’m interrupting somethi-”

“No, no! By all means, welcome, Lin Yanjun.” Chaoze practically throws Zhangjing off of him and stands up to shake his hand. “I’m Lin Chaoze,” he says to Yanjun with a plastered smile.

Yanjun, still shell-shocked, awkwardly reaches for the hand. “Yeah, I’m Lin Yanjun.” 

“Cool! Same last name. Well, I’ll leave you guys to the bio report! I’ll go uh, hm, do some dance practice. Yes.” Chaoze grabs his backpack and rushes towards the door, without forgetting to throw Zhangjing a wink before closing it. He sees Yanjun raise a slight eyebrow, and Zhangjing internally groans out of embarrassment. 

“Let’s get started?” Yanjun asks after a beat of silence, settling himself on Yanjun’s bed and leaning back into the pillows. Zhangjing sees the bottom of Yanjun’s t-shirt ride up slightly, and it takes all of his willpower to not imagine Yanjun on his bed in a different situation. 

“Y-yeah.” One disaster after another.

During the session, Zhangjing’s phone vibrates continuously. At one point, Zhangjing goes to turn it off, or yell at whichever one of his two goon friends who is spamming him. 

extra bitch: i saw the way he looked at us 

extra bitch: was that, jealousy, mayhaaaaaps? ;) 

extra bitch: hehe

extra bitch: too bad for him, zhangjing is mine :p

nongfu’s sugar baby: shut up chaoze 

nongfu’s sugar baby: let them ~study~ ;)

You Zhangjing: Both of you shut up. Please.

Despite his text, Zhangjing can’t help but break a smile at his friends’ clownery. Also, was Yanjun really jealous? He looks up at Yanjun as he thinks of him, only to come face to face with Yanjun’s unwavering gaze, the one that he had in the music room last week. His expression is unreadable, but Zhangjing’s heart skips a beat. 

“Who are you talking to?” Yanjun asks, coolly.

“Oh, uh, just Chaoze and Dinghao, my friends,” Zhangjing answers, averting his gaze because he needs to stop looking at him before he has a heart attack.

“Oh,” Yanjun says. “Is Chaoze your roommate?” 

Zhangjing is surprised at the question. He looks up at Yanjun again, but his expression has only hardened, more unreadable than ever. “Yeah,” he answers.

“You seem pretty close,” Yanjun comments. He lifts an eyebrow again, but this time, he looks back down at the textbook. 

“Yeah,” Zhangjing answers again, confused at where this is going. Since when did he care so much about Zhangjing’s friends? “We’ve been friends since first-year.” 

“Just friends?” Yanjun asks.

Zhangjing’s heart beats faster. Was Chaoze right? “Uh, yes?” Zhangjing answers, his voice almost a squeak at this point.

Yanjun looks back up at Zhangjing. He puts down his textbook, and scoots closer to Zhangjing. The two of them are now face-to-face, and Zhangjing’s body feels like it’s about to implode.

“Okay,” Yanjun answers, leaning closer to Zhangjing. He reaches past him, one hand by his  cheek just barely brushing his, and grabs the lab notebook lying behind where Zhangjing is sitting. Then, he scoots back to his original position, and his expression returns to his classic smirk.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He opens up the notebook and starts to work again.

Zhangjing doesn’t dare look at Yanjun in the eyes the entire rest of the time. 

bonus scene 

“You’re dating Bi Wenjun?” Dinghao almost chokes on his mimosa. “Your hot but cold tall roommate?” 

“Yeah,” Zhengting says. “My baobao is the sweetest boyfriend ever.”

“Geez, ge, save some cheese for the rest of us,” Dinghao teases. “Is that why you called me to brunch? To brag about your new boy?”

“Yes, but no. I have more information on your boy.” Zhangjing leans closer to Chaoze to whisper.

Dinghao’s knife freezes in the middle of cutting his pancakes. 

“Well, do you want to hear it or not?” Zhengting asks, taking a large sip of his yuzu spritzer.

“Perhaps I would be willing to indulge in a little bit of information regarding Jeffrey Dong,” Dinghao replies, resuming his pompous cutting.

“Well, I heard that he asked around about you.” This time, Dinghao really chokes on the pancake in his mouth.

“Huh? To who? About what? Me?”

“Chill, Dinghao. One question at a time. He asked Chen Linong if he knew you.”

Dinghao breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh good, not one of my haters.” 

“Apparently, he asked if he knew anything about you, what kind of person you were, what stuff you like, who your friends are-”

“What the fuck?” Dinghao interrupts Zhengting. He seems offended, but the blush on his cheeks betrays him. “Uh, is he doing a background check on me or something? Why would he ask all that?

Zhengting smiles knowingly. “Seems like he… just wants to get to know you.”

“Why won’t he ask these things to my face, then?” Dinghao huffs. That man is practically silent whenever he is with him, only opening his mouth to sing and say a couple of awkward greetings.

Then, suddenly, he stops mid-bite again. “Wait, Zhengting, what information did you offer Linong in return?” 

Zhengting smirks and shrugs. “Hm…”

“Do not tell me you also told Linong that I asked about him .” 

“Maybe…”

“ZHENGTING-GE!” Dinghao’s shriek fills the brunch room, followed by Zhengting’s laughter. They would have been kicked out by the old ladies, had it not been for the fact that Zhengting’s father owns the restaurant chain.

Chapter Text

chapter 6 // if you love me won’t you say something

“And then he says something like ‘I’m not what you’re used to, Wang Ziyi, and I don’t know if I will ever be,’ and then got out of the car and left!” Ziyi smashes a pillow into his face.

“Oof, I don’t think I’ve heard that one before. Rough, buddy,” Xiao Gui grimaces.

“What did I do wrong? Can someone explain to me what I did wrong this time? Everything was literally perfect!” Ziyi yell-complains into the pillow.

“For fuck’s sake .” Linong finally snaps his Chemistry book closed and glares at the room. The room immediately falls silent. As everyone in the friend group knows, Chen Linong swearing means scary times incoming. Xiao Gui looks up from his music, Jeffrey looks up from his manga, and Ziyi slowly turns his head from the abused pillow. “How the fuck do you not realize at this point what your problem is at this point, Ziyi?”

“Uh-”

“Look, I know it’s against your goddamn morals or whatever to use secondhand things, but why don’t you put yourself in someone’s shoes for once in your life?? If Xukun is really that worth it, maybe try actually understanding him,” Linong glares at him. “Understanding us. ” 

Ziyi opens his mouth to speak, but Linong cuts him off.

“Honestly, sometimes, it’s humiliating. It’s humiliating when y’all use money as a tactic to get us to like you or get us to shut up, or get us to do things. Yeah, some people might like to be pampered or given expensive things. But y’all have to learn that you can’t solve all of your problems with money. Some things, like dating, actually requires expressing things called care and emotions? That’s probably really all Xukun wanted from you, Ziyi. Heck, he probably would’ve been fine going to a greasy-ass McDonalds if it meant you would actually treat him like a boyfriend rather than an escort.” Linong stops to breathe and takes in the room. Xiao Gui shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Jeffrey is looking up with wide eyes from his manga.

“Shit,” Ziyi says, eyes not leaving the floor. “I guess you’re right.”

Linong rolls his eyes. “I’m always right, Wang Ziyi.”

“But, I still have a problem,” Ziyi laments, looking up at Linong, eyes wavering. “I don’t know how to do things without spending money. Especially dating . You know how it's been with my previous flings.” 

Linong throws his hands up in exasperation. “Why do I even spend time with you dumb fucks?”

“Please,” Ziyi pleads. “I really want to make this right.”

“Fine, fine. You should really be doing this on your own, but I’m nice so I’ll give you a hint. Remember when you asked me to ask Zhengting what Xukun’s favorite boba drink was? That was nice. Probably the only sane, normal-people thing you’ve ever done in your life. Why? Because it shows your intent . You need to show him that you actually care about him, not that you only want him as an attractive ornament hanging by your side.” 

Ziyi nods slowly, seemingly processing Linong’s words. Then, he leaps up from his bed, charges towards where Linong is leaning against his desk, and envelops him in a big hug. “Thank you, Nongnong, you are the best!!!” 

Linong makes a gagging sound and pushes Ziyi’s chest. “Ew, gross, save that cheese for Xukun.” 

“Bro, don’t worry, you got this. I can help you do anything music-related if you need it,” Xiao Gui offers, slapping Ziyi and Linong both on the backs.

“Wait, so, does that mean I shouldn’t have bought Dinghao a new iPhone to replace his broken iPhone 5?” Jeffrey asks warily from his bed. He looks pitifully at Linong, lips quivering and tears welling up in his eyes.

Linong laughs. “Oh, Jeffrey, Dinghao is different. Give him all the gifts you want.” 

“Wait, also, has anyone seen Yanjun lately? He skipped hot pot today.” Xiao Gui mentions off-handedly.

“Something about studying? Weird, because he never does that,” Jeffrey comments.

“You think he’s with that boy he always talks about? Zhangjing?” Ziyi adds.

The gears immediately click in Linong’s head and he groans. “Oh boy, another one incoming. Honestly, y’all need to be paying me for this therapy.”

“See you tomorrow, yeah?”

“What for?” Zhangjing asks while praying to whatever deity that exists out there that Yanjun get out of his room immediately. One more minute with Yanjun and his unnecessary touchiness and he might just explode.

“Brunch,” Yanjun grins and leans against the doorway and hunches down to meet Zhangjing’s eyes which are steadfastly staring at the floor. 

Zhangjing gives in and looks up into Yanjun’s earnest eyes with surprise. Mistake. “Since when did we get brunch together?”

“Since tomorrow,” Yanjun’s smile grows wider, cheekiness spreading across his face. “It’s about time I treated you properly for getting me all those A’s on the lab reports.”

Zhangjing rolls his eyes. “Yeah, pay me back for the unnecessary labor I put in. Especially since I know you’re smart and can do the lab reports when you really need to.” He pouts, remembering the time Yanjun did the lab report just to get Zhangjing to sing for his band.

“Oh, so you think I’m smart?” Somehow, Yanjun’s grin grows even wider.

Zhangjing can feel his cheeks flush furiously. “Shut up, Lin Yanjun,” he says while moving back to close his door. “I have rehearsal in five minutes.” 

Yanjun throws his head back in laughter. “Alright, I’ll text you the address. See you later.”

Zhangjing closes the door and then immediately slumps down to the ground, grabbing his phone.

You Zhangjing: Hey dumbfucks

Help me

nongfu’s sugar baby: not w that attitude

extra bitch: what

You Zhangjing: Is it flirting if he invited me to brunch tomorrow?

nongfu’s sugar baby: . brunch ?????

dang that’s like base 10

why haven’t you gotten on ur knees for him yet

You Zhangjing: ??? HUH

extra bitch: gross

i can’t believe i’m the helpful one this time

jk i can

i mean it’s def a sign

he def wants to get to know you better

You Zhangjing: Ok ok what about this one : Is it flirting if he reached over me to grab the textbook when he could’ve asked for it and brushed his arm against me and smiled as he said “oops sorry”?????? 

extra bitch: oh what the fuck why haven’t you gotten on ur knees for him yet

nongfu’s sugar baby: i rest my case

“So, what I’m hearing is: he took you to a Michelin star restaurant, paid for all of it, got you expensive wine while you were there, then drove you back home.”

“Yes, Zhengting-ge, for the millionth time,” Xukun rolls his eyes and sips on his americano. 

“No offense, Cai Xukun, but I don’t see the problem.” Zhengting sits back in his booth and slurps his iced latte loudly. “I mean, you got a free, expensive meal and a hot ride. What else could you have asked for on a first date? Besides a bonus fuck, I don’t know what could possibly make this better.” 

Xukun groans. “I knew you weren’t the right person to talk to about this. Don’t you get it, ge? My wallet would’ve cried, but technically I could’ve afforded that stupid Michelin whatever meal myself, and he treated me like some baby pet of his who couldn’t speak the whole time! I’m not someone who can be bought over with a shit ton of money! It felt like a routine, mechanical thing that he does with all his dates. I couldn’t really feel like he cared.” Xukun all but explodes, talking so fast all Zhengting can do is blink at him blankly. 

“Oh… kay,” Zhengting provides helpfully, obviously Not Getting It. “Well, what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” Xukun bangs his head on the table, ignoring the stares he gets from other customers in the café. Good thing Zhengting’s family owns this one too. “That’s why I’m here, ge!” 

“Well, what I think you should do is come with me to Xiao Gui’s party tonight so y’all can kiss and make up and do whatever people in those TV shows do,” Zhengting winks and calls the waiter over for another latte. Xukun briefly wonders how the boy stays so in shape with all the shit he puts in his body. Then, he remembers his dilemma and goes back to banging his head on the table.

“It’s like, I want to date him, I really do, because I know he’s a good person and he can do considerate things, but sometimes he switches between fuerdai fuckboy and sweet boyfriend so fast it gives me whiplash.” Nobody asked, but Xukun needs to open the floodgates and let all of this off his chest.

After a moment of silence, someone unexpected speaks up. “Well, given all of this, what do you want to do, Xukun?” Xukun whips his head up and sees Bi Wenjun looking at him with earnest eyes. He was so quiet that Xukun had forgotten he was there. 

“I… I guess I want to reconcile. I never intended for this fight to go so far, but-”

“But your pride kept you from reaching out, and he’s probably still wondering what the fuck he did wrong because you never really told him,” Wenjun helpfully provides.

“Geez, Wenjun-ge, you can be really incisive when you actually talk,” Xukun doesn’t deny what Wenjun says, but it feels like a direct slice in the heart. “But you’re right. My stupid prideful ass caused this whole thing, and it’s also keeping me from fixing it.” 

“So, per my brilliant boyfriend’s psychoanalysis and my excellent advice, you should come to the party with me. Y’know, get some liquid courage in your system to get your shit together and all that.” Zhengting leans in closer, an unsettling smile widening on his face.

Xukun leans back. “Ge, for the last time, I hate-”

“I think Zhengting is right,” Wenjun interrupts.“You should go to the party, because it’s the only way for you to ‘run in’ to Ziyi and talk to him without having to sacrifice your pride.”

“That pride of yours, by the way, is definitely something you’ll have to unpack sooner or later, Cai Xukun,” Zhengting adds, sipping on his new latte.

Xukun sighs. “Alright, Wenjun- ge has a point. Thank you for being the most patient, grounded, and real friend ever.” Xukun emphasizes every word intentionally while staring at Zhengting.  “Speaking from past experience, if anyone could love a wack job like ge, it’s you.” He smiles sweetly at Wenjun, pointedly ignoring Zhengting’s loud noise of protest.

“No problem, Xukun, anytime,” Wenjun provides with a soft smile of his own. “Though, Zhengting’s right. Fix that pride complex of yours sooner than later, okay?”

“Hey!” Zhengting waves his arms between the two of them. “Earth to my best friend and boyfriend???? I’m here??? I exist???”

For the first time in a while, Xukun laughs. 

Jeffrey is waiting for Dinghao at the end of their music class. He’s been doing that often these days, with the reasoning that their dorms are in the same direction. However, Dinghao also knows that usually, after Thursday classes, Jeffrey has hot pot with his friends and excuses himself right after it hits 5:30. 

“Not giving Haidilao their entire weekly salary today?” Dinghao throws his bag over his shoulder and walks towards Jeffrey. The way Jeffrey’s fingers are nervously rolling up the corners of his sheet music doesn’t escape Dinghao’s eyes.

“Y-yeah,” Jeffrey answers without looking up from his wrinkled papers. “Are you heading back to the dorms?”

“Yep,” Dinghao pops the “p” for emphasis.

At the sound, Jeffrey looks up and smiles. Dinghao’s heart immediately skips a beat, and he looks away to hide his blush. Damn this stupid rich kid for being so cute.

“U-um, do you want to,” Jeffrey shifts the things in his hand. Dinghao briefly fears that Jeffrey will suddenly drop all of them, like the klutz he is. “Maybe walk back together?”

“Jeffrey, we’ve been doing that every class,” Dinghao retorts.

“Yeah,” Jeffrey rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Let’s get going, yeah? Our professor is coming over,” Dinghao all but pushes Jeffrey out of the classroom. The professor has been up his ass about practicing lately, and Dinghao knows he’s been slacking because his mind has been on other… things. 

They walk quietly for a couple of minutes, but Dinghao doesn’t mind. The silence is comfortable, and he takes the time to think about how incredible it is that Jeffrey has managed to calm Dinghao as a human being. For his entire life, he’s always been the loudest in the room, always setting the mood and compensating for others’ awkwardness. Jeffrey is one of the only people with whom he doesn’t feel like he needs to be. With quiet and mellow Jeffrey, Dinghao doesn’t feel like he needs to perform to draw Zhangjing out of his shell, or match Zhengting’s off-the-wall energy. He feels like he can just be himself: sarcastic, opinionated, perceptive, and loud, indeed, but only when he wants to be.

He’s deep in his introspective thoughts when Jeffrey’s usually soft voice cuts through at a louder volme. “Dinghao?”

“Oh, sorry, I was thinking about something,” Dinghao answers. “What did you say again?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jeffrey answers quickly, looking down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you thinking. Please continue to do that.”

At this, Dinghao laughs incredulously, so hard that he slaps Jeffrey on the back. Jeffrey recoils in surprise, but when Dinghao looks up, Jeffrey’s expression is not one of disgust, but of confusion. That somehow makes Dinghao smile even harder. 

“Jeffrey, if anyone else said that, I would think that they’re either being passive aggressive, or fake as fuck. But since it’s you, I know that you 100% meant it. And now, I am 100% meaning it when I tell you that you don’t need to be this accommodating, please, just tell me what was on your mind.”

At this, Jeffrey flashes a soft smile back. “Okay,” he says. “Sorry, my parents have always told me to be polite and considerate. So much so that I don’t think I know how to act in social situations sometimes.”  

Dinghao’s heart breaks at Jeffrey’s sudden admission. As a kid who was raised constantly reprimanded by his parents for being too loud, too straight-forward, and too “rude,” Dinghao had to fight hard to unlearn a lot of what was instilled in him in order to be himself as he grew older. He understands now that Jeffrey may never have gotten the privilege of being truly free from his parent’s shackles. 

“I completely understand, Jeffrey,” Dinghao looks up at Jeffrey as they’re walking, and sees his expression relax a little. “But you don’t need to be like that around me! If you haven’t been able to tell already, I’m the rudest student in class.” At that, Jeffrey lets out a small chuckle. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re awkward at all. I love talking to you.”

At that, Jeffrey stops in his tracks and turns to look at him. Confused, Dinghao stops too. As the two face each other, Dinghao attempts to search Jeffrey’s gaze, but before he can attempt to pin what he thinks the boy is feeling, Jeffrey is blurting out his words in an urgency he’s never seen the boy embody before. “If that’s the case, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Dinghao answers without missing a beat. He’s never been one for indirectness.

“Are you free this evening? Like, right now?” Jeffrey rocks back and forth on his heels; his cheeks flushing a brilliant shade of red. Dinghao thinks that it’s adorable.

Dinghao smiles. “Jeffrey, all I have for friends are two losers who think their grades are more important than socializing. So yes, I’m free.”

“D-do you want to get food with me, then?” Jeffrey asks to the ground. “Just that I know a new beef noodle place that opened up that has really good reviews,” he adds quickly.

Dinghao, ever the confident one, reaches over and sticks a finger under Jeffrey’s chin, pushing his head back up so he’s looking at him. This time, Dinghao has time to read his expression. Nervous, but warm and sincere. Dinghao’s heart blooms.

“Hmmmm, I do love beef noodles… but is this a date?” Dinghao teases. It’s fun to see Jeffrey blush even harder. He didn’t think that shade was humanly possible.

“I-” Jeffrey starts. Then, something in his expression changes, and Dinghao can literally see the gears moving in Jeffrey’s head as he looks at him with a new glint in his eyes and a sheepish smile on his face. “... Only if you want it to be.” 

Dinghao’s heart almost stops. Out of all of the answers that shy, cute, bumbling Jeffrey could give, this wasn’t one he was expecting. He laughs to hide his nervousness and beating heart, but the redness creeping up on his own cheeks cracks his façade. “Oh, Jeffrey. You never cease to surprise me.”

“So? What’s the answer? Is this a date?”

Two can play at this game. And Dinghao, ever the confident one, ever the competitive one, needs to win. He tiptoes up to match Jeffrey’s height and ruffles his hair with a wide grin. “Read my lips, Jeffrey Dong. Yes, it is a date .” 

((As Dinghao excitedly gushes over the menu because it offers not just beef noodle soup, but wagyu beef noodle soup, Jeffrey secretly texts Zhu Zhengting, “Thank you for your restaurant suggestion. I’m indebted.” Zhu Zhengting replies immediately, “Come to me anytime, Jeffrey. Especially when you have news on Ziyi.”))

“Zhangjing, do you have a girlfriend?” Zhangjing almost spits out his eggs benedict. Brunch had been going relatively well. He had pointedly restrained himself from staring too long at  how well Yanjun’s light blue collared shirt matched with his silver hair, and conversation was light and pleasant. Until now. 

“Um-”

“Or boyfriend, or partner, or anyone special, that special someone,” Yanjun adds quickly, averting his eyes back to his waffles. It’s the first time Zhangjing has really seen Yanjun even slightly nervous. “I don’t judge. Gender is a societal construct,” Yanjun adds, sounding like an AI bot that just machine-learned Intro to Gender Women Studies.

Strangely, seeing Yanjun like this helps Zhangjing relax, and he can’t help but laugh. “Yanjun, you’re good, I got the point. And the answer is no to all of that, but I’m not single. I am dating my schoolwork as well as the work that you won’t do, thank you very much.”

At that, Yanjun rolls his eyes, then sits back with his drink and cocks his eyebrow. “So, what I’m hearing is you don’t like anyone,” he challenges.

Zhangjing feels his face get hot. Despite his complete lack of experience in flirting or relationships, he’s smart enough to give a non-answer, albeit not subtly. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

Thankfully, Yanjun lets him go with a chuckle. “Not at the moment.” 

Damn. Leave it to Yanjun to be an expert on those non-answers. With a gulp, Zhangjing decides to push. “...At the moment?”

A few moments pass, the silence tangibly dripping in between them. Zhangjing is about to give up and say something dumb like comment on the weather, but Yanjun beats him to it. 

“You look really cute when you want to know something.” Zhangjing watches as Yanjun breaks into a soft smile and reaches over to pat his head. “Your eyes get reeeeeally big like this, and your mouth open like this.” Yanjun opens his eyes and widens his mouth in an exaggerated way.

Zhangjing feels dizzy. “Hey, that’s not how I look like!” He grabs Yanjun’s arm and puts it down on the table. 

Yanjun laughs harder. “It’s so fun to tease you, You Zhangjing.”

“You want to start this? Alright, let’s talk about your face when you were drunk off your ass and telling me about your white shoes,” A wave of unfound confidence empowers Zhangjing. Yanjun has never fully seen Unleashed Savage Zhangjing, but he has opened the floodgates today.

It’s almost comical how fast Yanjun’s face drops. “Oh, so you do remember,” Zhangjing remarks smugly.

“What? What are you talking about?” Yanjun looks to the sky as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. For a boy who can flirt so well, he’s really bad at lying, Zhangjing notes.

“Hm, should I recount the whole sob story in public to prime your memory? If I recall, you said the only control you had in your life was your white sh-”

“Okay, okay! Yes, I do remember that day. And I’m sorry I never thanked you for it. It’s super overdue now, but thank you for taking me back home and making sure I was okay. I probably would not have been that night without you.” Yanjun looks at Zhangjing right in the eyes, gaze unwavering. The usual flirtatious glint is gone and replaced with a sincerity that Zhangjing has only seen one other time, during the Incident in the music room. But that’s one elephant in the room he, let alone Yanjun, is definitely not ready to talk about right now.

Zhangjing swallows, hard, hoping to stomp down his bubbling feelings along with the rest of his meal. “It’s whatever,” he shrugs. “I just never thought you would be a simp drunk.” 

A wave of relief washes over Zhangjing as Yanjun takes the bait, the familiar glint returning to his eyes. “Hey! I am so not, that night was just an anomaly.”

“Oh? You have no way of proving your assertion, so I will stick to my belief.” Zhangjing sticks a childish tongue out at Yanjun.

“I do too,” Yanjun counters back, just as childishly. “Come to Xiao Gui’s party this weekend.”

Zhangjing scoffs. “Me? At a house party? My friends wish.”

Yanjun sighs and leans back, arms crossing over his chest. “Alright, state them.”

“State what?”

“Your conditions for attending the party.”

Zhangjing smiles. “Now that, I like to hear.”

Zhangjing hates it here. The moment he stepped into the dark, crowded, musty living room, Dinghao had linked arms with Jeffrey and walked off, saying something about “finally shooting my shot.” Zhangjing doesn’t really want to know what that entails. Chaoze, on the other hand, already drunk from their pregame, immediately leaped on a table to dance to a cheering crowd. 

And so Zhangjing, like during all other house parties he’s forced to attend, ends up alone at the snack and drink bar nursing a rum and coke while picking at his plate of pretzels. At least he had gotten another lab report out of Yanjun for this. Thanks to that, he was able to pick up an extra shift at the lab and earn some more money to finance his and Chaoze’s insane snacking addiction. 

He’s thinking deeply about what snacks to hoard during his next trip to H-Mart when someone taps him on the shoulder. Turning around, the first thing he notices (and he hates himself for it) is Yanjun’s silk black collared shirt, with three buttons undone. Looking up quickly to avoid thinking Bad Thoughts, the second thing he notices on Yanjun’s face is that he is very drunk. Very, very drunk. Except this time, he’s not emotional, nor is he crying about his white shoes. There’s a playful smile on his face, and though his eyes seem glossed over, he manages to still wink at Zhangjing. 

“What are you doing here alone?” Yanjun shouts over the music. Zhangjing tries not to focus on the way Yanjun’s shirt shifts to reveal more of his skin.

“Um, my friends ditched me. So I’m eating pretzels,” Zhangjing replies lamely.

Yanjun laughs. “Come join me and my friends, then,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes.

Zhangjing doesn’t know what possesses him to do this without the peer pressure of his friends, but he finds himself following Yanjun to another room in the house. Scanning the room, he sees a bunch of girls he doesn’t recognize surrounding Xiao Gui and some of his other rich friends and Jeffrey and Dinghao whispering to each other in a corner of the room (Zhangjing tries to delete the image of Dinghao practically laying on Jeffrey’s lap from his head). His mind briefly registers the fact that Ziyi is nowhere to be found, despite the rumors that he’s heard about him always present at every single party on campus. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Chen Linong sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. 

“Linong! Look who I found,” Yanjun announces. Linong looks up, and Zhangjing notices that his facial expression briefly flashes into one of surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual, cheery smile. 

“Zhangjing! How nice to see you here,” Linong reaches out and gives Zhangjing a hug.

“I missed you Linong! When are we going to catch up,” Zhangjing hugs back tightly. He missed the warm presence of this boy. 

“Hey, You Zhangjing,” Yanjun calls suddenly. Zhangjing breaks the hug to look over. Yanjun has his arms crossed and cheeks puffed out uncharacteristically.

“What?”

“Why don’t you ever hug me like that?” Yanjun whines, arms falling to his side 

Zhangjing blinks and wonders if he misheard, or if some otherworldly being has possessed Yanjun, but “Huh?” is all that comes out of his mouth. There’s a brief moment of awkward silence, and Yanjun opens his mouth to speak again, but Linong interrupts.

“Alright, um, I’m just gonna get some drinks!” Linong smiles his usual smile, but it feels a bit forced. “You two chill here, I’ll be right back.” Before Zhangjing can blink, Linong is out the door, and he’s left alone with Yanjun.

“Can we sit here?” Yanjun complains, stumbling towards the couch. “I’m tired.”

Zhangjing sits down awkwardly next to Yanjun without complaint, but making sure to leave at least two inches of space between the two of them. He’s a fuckboy, he’s straight, he was confused when he kissed me, stop fooling yourself You Zhangjing, it’s two years of pining you need to stop now-

His self-brainwashing mantra is interrupted when he feels a weight on his shoulder and warmth against his side. He glances over and sees Yanjun leaning his head against his shoulder. 

“Zhangjing, you’re really nice to touch, you know that?”

“Wha-”

“I mean, like to hug, and lean against, and stuff. It feels really nice. Like a warm teddy bear,” Yanjun clarifies, but Zhangjing can barely decipher what he’s saying through the drunken slurs.

“Oh, um, thanks, I guess,” Zhangjing manages to get out. He throws back the rest of his drink and grabs an unopened Smirnoff from the nearest table. He needs to be drunker than this.

Silence stretches between the two of them. Zhangjing peers over and sees Yanjun’s eyes closed. He doesn’t dare shift or move, because awake Yanjun has the potential to say more Dangerous Words that will make Zhangjing Feel Things. 

He’s halfway through his bottle when Yanjun speaks up again. “You never answered my question,” he slurs, shifting his weight so that he’s looking up at Zhangjing.

Zhangjing pointedly avoids his gaze, looking down at his shoes. He can feel Yanjun’s gaze on his face. “What question?”

“Whether or not you like anyone right now.” Yanjun shifts a bit closer, practically leaning his whole body in Zhangjing at this point.  

He looks down at Yanjun, who is still staring at him with those ridiculously huge brown eyes of his. “Why does it matter to you?” Zhangjing prods, feeling a bit on edge from the alcohol.

Yanjun doesn’t answer. Zhangjing watches as Yanjun’s gaze shifts down to his lips, and he gulps nervously. “Hello? Earth to Lin Yanjun? I-”

Before his mind can register, it happens again. Yanjun leans in and closes the remaining distance between them, and Zhangjing once again feels soft lips against his own. 

At this point, Zhangjing is buzzed enough that the “fuck it” part of his brain is louder than the panic-screaming part, so this time, he leans in and starts moving his own lips. Yanjun settle his arm around his waist and he involuntarily shivers, shifting his own weight to face Yanjun. He feels Yanjun smile against his lips at the change in angle, and Zhangjing’s heart beats impossibly faster. The kiss is slow, soft, and made sweeter with the lingering alcohol. Zhangjing feels Yanjun’s tongue pressing against his lips, and he parts them easily and brings his arms around Yanjun’s neck, softly stroking the hair behind his head. When they break apart, he takes in Yanjun’s slightly swollen lips and tousled hair and thinks after two years of pining, that he looks the most beautiful like this. 

“It’s because you like me, right?” Yanjun breathes out, the confident glint in his eyes reappearing.

Zhangjing feels all the breath he had gathered since they broke part from the kiss get knocked out of him again. “What?”

“You asked why it matters to me. Because the person you like is me, right?”

Zhangjing’s chest tightens. “What do you mean?”

“I see the way you look at me during rehearsal and in class. It’s really cute when I catch you and you blush.” Yanjun chuckles, and Zhangjing clenches his fists as he feels his cheeks redden.

“So, then, what is this? Are you playing with me right now?” Zhangjing manages to get out. His voice is softer than normal. He always gets quieter when he’s angry, and his friends say that even though he yells and shouts at them all the time, he’s scariest when he’s quiet.

“What?” Yanjun cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“I’m asking if you’re playing with the feelings I have for you,” Zhangjing barrels forward, the ‘fuck it’ side of his brain fully taking over now. “If you knew I had feelings for you, why didn’t you say anything to shut me down? Are you just leading me on because it’s fun? Or do you actually return my feelings, Lin Yanjun?” Zhangjing scoffs at his own words. There’s no way Lin Yanjun would ever.

“I-” Yanjun hesitates, looking away. Zhangjing hates himself for it, but he feels his heart drop in disappointment nonetheless. 

Zhangjing stands up. “It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to have an answer anyways,” he says bitterly. “Just don’t lead me on like this ,” he gestures vaguely to the space in between them, and then leaves the room, tears stinging at the edge of his eyes. He pulls his phone out immediately to angrily text Dinghao (who had disappeared from the room they were in sometime ago and probably wouldn’t text back) and Chaoze. 

You Zhangjing: Where are you guys

Please

Urgent 

extra bitch: where r u? i’ll come find u

dinghao dicking so he can’t come prob

You Zhangjing: TMI…

But I’m at the drinks table

Please come quickly I don’t want to cry here alone

extra bitch: oh shit baby i’m coming. tell me who i need to punch on the way.

You Zhangjing sticks his hand into the pretzel bowl as tears start running down his face. Pining was alright, having a crush was alright, even falling for him one-sidedly was alright, but he should’ve known better than to trust one of the fuerdai fucks.

“You’re a fucking dumbass fuck, you know that?” A voice cuts in from the left of where Yanjun is sitting, frozen. Linong plops down next to him.

This time, Yanjun makes no attempt at a witty comeback. “Yeah,” Yanjun puts his head in his hand, trying to steady the dizzying. “Yeah, I do. How much did you hear?”

“Nothing, but I saw Zhangjing walk out with tears in his eyes and kinda put the pieces together. You did something to Zhangjing without telling him your actual feelings, right?”

“How’d you know?”

Linong snorts. “Despite my best interests, I’m your best friend, so I know your antics, Lin Yanjun. When are you going to own up to your own emotions and be vulnerable for once in your life? You know from my nagging by now that this playing-around-running-in-weird-flirtatious-circles habit of yours destroys all of your relationships.”

“Yeah, yeah I know that too. But the reason I never listened before was because I’ve never really cared. It was just fun,” Yanjun says as he focuses on his hands.

“But…?” 

“But this time, it’s really getting to me. Like I feel… just so bad, man,” Yanjun looks up at Linong pitifully.

Linong snorts. “Bad? That’s the best you can do? Don’t you look at me with the face that all of you stupid fuerdai fucks do to me when you're too up in your ass to articulate your own emotions and do something about the dumb situation you put yourselves in.” 

He glances over at Yanjun, sees the increasingly forlorn look on his face and the tears gathering around the corner of his eyes, and immediately regrets what he said. “Okay, sorry, that was a bit harsh, but what I’m trying to say is you need to really think about what you're losing here by operating within your comfort zone of fuckboy-ery, and whether that’s worth it.”

Yanjun sighs. “You’re right, man. I’m a dumbfuck, aren’t I?”

At that, Linong smiles. “Ah, yes. My eight favorite words.”

Chapter Text

chapter 7 // you gotta go with the feeling you had in the beginning

“Zhengting-ge, can we go now?” 

“Cai Xukun, for the last time, we are not leaving until my baby gets back!”

“And when is that?” 

“I don’t know, Justin and Chengcheng looked pretty drunk, so it’s gonna take a while to get them safely in bed,” Zhengting says nonchalantly. Xukun doesn’t miss the way he glances at his phone, though, for the hundredth time that night.

“If Wenjun is busy taking care of the kids, then whose text are you waiting for?” Xukun narrows his eyes in an attempt to focus on his screen.

Zhengting quickly presses the lock button on his phone and slips his phone back into his pocket. “Nothing important.” He shrugs and slings an arm around Xukun’s shoulder and drags him away from the pretzels. “Now come on, hot stuff like you should not just be hunched over at the snack table whining during one of the biggest parties of the year.” 

Xukun groans, but lets himself get dragged to the dance floor. He won’t admit it, but Zhengting is right. He dressed up and put makeup on (under the forceful watch of Zhengting); he can’t just let it all go to waste for the next few hours next to the stale pretzels. Xukun doesn’t even know why he agreed to come in the first place, but Zhengting certainly has a knack for guilt-tripping that Xukun never learned how to avoid.

Zhengting is obviously way more than tipsy as he trips his way to the dance floor, with Xukun in tow. Xukun had insisted on staying sober today, traumatized by his own actions the last time he over-drank. Sighing as he helps steady his friend, he bops listlessly to the beat of the loud and scratchy EDM, clicking his phone open to check the time. 

He glances at his notification center and briefly registers that there still isn’t a text from Ziyi. They’ve artfully ghosted each other for almost a week now, with Xukun avoiding all of the places he knows that Ziyi and the other fuerdais frequent, and Ziyi pointedly avoiding the basketball courts, dance room and computer science buildings as well. Xukun knows he’s being stubborn himself for refusing to face the situation he caused, but he’s still irrationally slightly (very) annoyed that Ziyi is beating him at his own silent treatment game.

As he’s busy brewing in a growing annoyance, he barely notices Zhengting rapidly tapping on his phone, too fast for someone as drunk as he was acting.

“Zhu Zhengting?”

“Xiao Gui! My man! I haven’t seen you in forever,” Zhengting yells above the music, loud enough to snap Xukun away from his thoughts. He sees Zhengting pull Xiao Gui into a bro hug and almost gags. Though Zhengting is far from it, he certainly can put on a very practiced, skilled heterosexual display. Must be a fuerdai skill , he thinks briefly.

“Yo, it really is you! Haven’t seen you since my party two years ago, legit,” Xiao Gui grins widely.

“For real, it’s been too long,” Zhengting enthuses. He then turns around and grips Xukun around his upper arm, dragging him in front of Xiao Gui. “This is my friend and ex, Cai Xukun.”

“Damn, ever the messy one, huh, Zhu Zhengting?” Xiao Gui chuckles and glances at Xukun up and down. It’s hot on the dance floor, but Xukun feels significantly sweatier than he was two minutes ago. “Nice to finally meet; I’ve heard a lot about you, Cai Xukun.” Xiao Gui extends his hand.

Xukun slowly extends his hand out, closing his eyes and bracing himself for the inevitable shoulder hug. “Nice to… meet you too,” he manages out slowly. As intimidating as Ziyi can be, his friends are somehow scarier.

“Speaking of reunions, where’s Wang Ziyi? Haven’t seen that fucker in forever,” Zhengting continues. Xukun whips his head towards Zhengting, shooting daggers out of his eyes in an attempt to get Zhengting to shut up. Zhengting very pointedly ignores him.

“He’s just grabbing a drink, he’ll be back soon,” Xiao Gui answers smoothly, shooting a glance at Xukun that does not go unnoticed by him. 

“Uh, I’m just gonna go use the restroom real quick-” Xukun starts, in a desperate attempt to yeet out of this upcoming situation as soon as possible.

“I’m back; they ran out of mango flavored Smirnoff though-” Ziyi comes into view on the dance floor, holding two drinks with one hand, his phone in the other, his hair tied up in a ponytail, and his loose fitting shirt dangerously unbuttoned. 

Fuck , Xukun swears under his breath, and feels Zhengting’s grip on his upper arm get even tighter. Ziyi seems to have noticed Xukun too, as he seems to be sporting the same glare at Xiao Gui that Xukun made at Zhengting just a few second ago.

“Wang Ziyi! Bro, I haven’t seen you since our family’s last charity dinner,” Zhengting gives Ziyi a slap on the back strong enough to push him closer to Xukun. Xukun tries to take a step back, but the amount of people surrounding them on the dance floor prevent him from doing so. Fuck Zhengting-ge and his scheming skills .

“Oh, Zhu Zhengting,” Ziyi waves back weakly. “What brings you here?”

“To have the time of my life, of course! Xiao Gui never disappoints,” Zhengting replies smoothly. “Speaking of which, my baby just arrived back at the party. I’ll catch y’all later, alright?” 

“Ge, what the f-”

“Bye, Xukun!” Zhengting’s hand moves from Xukun’s upper arm to the small of his back, pushing him forward towards Ziyi. Then, just like that, he’s gone.

“Yeah, have fun dude, I’m off to do host shit and meet more guests or something,” Xiao Gui bolts just as fast as Zhengting, disappearing into the dance crowd within milliseconds after patting Ziyi on the back.

“Um-”

“So-”

“You go first,” Ziyi offers, gesturing awkwardly towards Xukun.

Xukun sighs and runs a hand through his hair exasperatedly, but then grimaces at how sweaty it feels given their current location. “First, pass me a Smirnoff.” Ziyi wordlessly passes him one, his gaze lingering on Xukun’s tousled hair. Xukun pretends not to notice. He pops the cap open and takes a long sip, bracing himself for the awkward conversation to come. 

Someone elbows him in the rib mid-chug, though, and he swears under his breath. Ziyi moves automatically to cut the offender off. Xukun’s heart tugs at the gesture, but he puts a scowl on his face. “Ugh, let’s get the fuck out of this sweaty moshpit.” Ziyi nods wordlessly again, following Xukun out of the dance floor and towards the balcony.

They stand at the balcony in silence for a few minutes, Xukun leaning his forearms against the bars sipping on his drink and Ziyi standing next to him, looking fixedly at his own drink and fidgeting with the label.

“I suppose we got set up,” Xukun offers first, lamely. 

“Yeah,” Ziyi replies, just as lamely. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want to see me, I can take my leave n-”

“No, stay, we need to talk about this,” Xukun interrupts Ziyi and gestures for him to come back to the railing.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right, we should.” 

Ziyi’s fast compliance makes Xukun chuckle. “Since when did you listen to others’ directions so well?”

That draws a familiar, sly smirk out of him. “I only listen to you.” 

That makes Xukun laugh even harder; the ice finally breaks. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I missed that unjustified cockiness of yours.” 

Ziyi smiles wider and tilts his head to the side. “Oh? So now you admit that’s something you like,” he teases playfully.

Xukun almost lets himself get swept away, like he seems to always do whenever he’s with Ziyi. This time, he knows that he can no longer use banter as an escape from the real issues they are dealing with together. Deep down inside, he knows it’s unfair to both him and Ziyi for Xukun to keep running away. 

“I do appreciate that about you,” Xukun starts slowly, raising his eyes to meet Ziyi’s and swallowing the lump in his throat. 

Following the shift in tone, Ziyi’s eyes turn softer as well. “Do you want to start?” 

Ziyi takes a large breath in and watches as it puffs into the sky. He briefly registers that it’s cold, but the buzz of the alcohol keeps him warm enough. He also tries to ignore the fact that he is very much perceiving Ziyi’s close proximity and body heat.

 “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for just leaving that day without properly communicating with you,” Xukun starts. 

Ziyi blinks confusedly. “Wait, I’m the one who should be sorry. I wasn’t considerate enough of your feelings that night and did whatever I wanted, then didn’t have the nerve to approach you afterwards, and I’m really sorry about that.” 

This time, it’s Xukun’s turn to blink confusedly in return. He peers around Ziyi and looks around. “Is someone whispering these lines to you through a secret mic? Did you memorize a speech or something?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just feel like we’ve never had this sort of conversation before,” Xukun answers, chuckling awkwardly. “Not that I’m not grateful that we are having it right now, but I’m just surprised you had the ability to be so… so-”

“Emotionally vulnerable? Yeah, I get that a lot.” This time, it’s Ziyi’s turn to grin. “I did not come with an in-ear nor do I have a speech saved in my Notes app. But I do admit, I did receive a lot of advice and coaching from friends.”?

“By friends, you mean Chen Linong?” Xukun raises an eyebrow.

“The one and only. Bless his heart.” Ziyi taps his heart twice and gestures upwards, making Xukun roll his eyes. He finds it funny, but he wouldn’t give Ziyi the satisfaction of knowing that over his dead body.

“Anyways, back to the subject. Yeah, I do agree that you were pretty bad at reading the room. It didn’t feel good that you spoke over me and treated me like I was too poor to do anything.” Xukun has never been too good at sharing how he feels, but somehow the words come out easily with Ziyi, who is listening intently.

Xukun braces himself for Ziyi’s defense, but instead, Ziyi does not break eye contact with Xukun, and his deep gaze is making Xukun feel a little bit warmer than usual. “I’m sorry I acted that way,” “I’m learning how to love you, and I want to be better for you.” 

His words can’t help but make Xukun’s heart melt a little, but he can’t let it show. “Damn, who gave you the script? Our favorite Nongnong?”

“As hard as it is for you to believe, those words are from the bottom of my heart,” Ziyi doesn’t take the bait and continues to look at Xukun earnestly. 

Xukun bites his lip and looks down. He’s out of sharp words. “I believe you,” he finally answers, looking back up at Ziyi.

Ziyi breaks out into the most genuine grin he’s ever seen from the man. “Really?”

“Stop asking before I take it back.” Xukun can’t help but feel a grin forming on his own face.

“Okay, let me change the question,” Ziyi answers without a beat. “Are we good now? Can I give you a hug?” 

"That was two questions,” Xukun replies, “But god, yes, and you can have more than that.” Xukun, emboldened by Ziyi’s emotional intelligence and the slight buzz of alcohol, pulls Ziyi’s shirt in for a kiss. As soon as their lips touch, he feels Ziyi’s hands wrap around his waist to pull him closer. The kiss is sweet, slow, and warm. Xukun feels like the two of them are alone even amidst a loud and buzzing party.

“OH MY GOD,” Xukun eventually hears someone yelling right next to his face. He pulls away from Ziyi abruptly, whose hands had somehow wandered to Xukun’s pockets in the back of his jeans. “I wanted you to make up, not make OUT and FUCK in the middle of the party!!” 

“Zhu Zhengting, for the love of god,” Xukun groans into Ziyi’s shoulder. Ziyi pats his head reassuringly.

“GET A ROOM, FOR FUCKS SAKE,” Zhengting keeps yelling in their face. “I DON’T WANT TO BE THE ONE TO CLEAN UP THE MESSY SOCIAL MEDIA TRACKS TOMORROW!!”

“Zhengting, at the volume that you’re yelling, people are going to whip out their cameras right now,” Ziyi says to Zhengting while shaking his head. “But we’ll get out of your hair.” He turns to Xukun and winks, who quickly flushes red. “Shall we?”

Xukun takes Ziyi’s hand and gets up from the couch. “Let’s go, baby.” 

As they leave the party, he can hear Zhengting gag, “BABY??? ALREADY??”

***

It’s the Monday after the party, and Zhangjing would rather be doing anything right now than go to Chemistry class with Yanjun. He’s been ignoring the close to 50 texts that Yanjun has sent him throughout the weekend requesting to talk or meet up. He’s done with fuckboys, he’s done with being strung along, and he’s accepted that he’s going to live a loveless life. Just as he’s giving himself the angry Mental Pep Talk while brushing his teeth, his phone flashes and his heart drops again.

10:05 am

Lin Yanjun: yo are u showing up to chem??? being late is so unlike u

10:15 am

Lin Yanjun: u would rather sacrifice ur A in the class just to avoid ME????

Zhangjing snorts. In his fucking dreams. Of course Yanjun doesn’t know because he probably doesn’t even know how to log into his school portal, but Zhangjing has been grinding all of the Chem homework due the next few weeks over the weekend and turning it in for the both of them. He briefly thought about letting Yanjun fail as his revenge, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He chalks it up to his “too nice” personality, but deep down, he knows a part of him just can’t let go of Yanjun fully yet.

10:30 am

Lin Yanjun: pls check outside your door if you haven’t left yet :((((

Zhangjing blinks at the screen. He doesn’t dare click into the notification to show Yanjun that he’s read it, but he tiptoes over to the door and looks through the peephole. It doesn’t seem like anyone is there, so he opens the door slowly. There, on the ground, is a java chip frappuccino with a sticky note on it. Zhangjing looks around to see if anyone is there, picks it up, and quickly closes the door. 

“I’m sorry. - LYJ”

He sits on the bed and stares at the sticky note for a long time, before finally stashing it into his bedside drawer. He takes a sip and sighs, logging back onto his computer to finish the Chem homework.

Zhangjing doesn’t leave his room for the next week. Aside from the monotony of getting up, doing chem homework, and sleeping, another constant in his life is Yanjun texting him every day without fail at 10:30, telling him to check his door. Every day, a java chip frappuccino awaits him, with the same note: “I’m sorry.” Sometimes, Yanjun adds a “Please respond?” or “Please talk?” but Zhangjing ignores the questions all the same, stashing the notes in his drawer and enjoying his free coffee. Maybe this is my form of revenge, Zhangjing thinks to himself.

On Friday, after five free fraps, he replies to Yanjun.

You Zhangjing: I won’t be able to perform anymore at the showcase

Lin Yanjun: What?? WHY?? IS IT BECAUSE OF ME??? Please perform we need u!! Don’t give a fuck about me

Lin Yanjun: Okay maybe give a little fuck about me and talk to me pls, but also we need u in the performance. Please don’t back out because of me

You Zhangjing: It’s not because of you. I just don’t have the time to practice and perform anymore. I’m sorry.

With that, Zhangjing silences notifications from Yanjun for good, locks his phone, plugs it onto the charger, and goes to sleep.

***

“Wake the FUCK UP!!” Zhangjing feels a pillow slam into his face before he’s conscious of his surroundings.

“Wha-”

“I’m getting you OUT of this pigsty. We’re going to get coffee,” Chaoze jumps onto Zhangjing, who squeals in his bed and tries to push him off.

“I probably already have a frappuccino at my door,” Zhangjing protests.

“Then come with ME to get coffee bitch,” Chaoze gets up and starts rummaging through Zhangjing’s closet. “Better yet, BUY me a coffee. You know how it’s felt like living with a roommate who hasn’t left the room in 5 days?” Chaoze throws clothes into Zhangjing’s face. “These look so ugly but they’re the only clean clothes you have left. I have to go first to save us a spot. Now get in the shower and meet me out there in 15. If you ghost me, our friendship is over for good.” Chaoze promptly grabs his backpack and makes a point of slamming the door closed.

Zhangjing groans, but complies slowly.

When he enters the school cafe in his sunglasses to hide his dark eye bags, he quickly scans the room for Chaoze. He spots him, but he is not alone. A familiar handsome face (Zhangjing hates himself for thinking that thought) is present across from his best friend. Oh hell no, Zhangjing thinks, and just as he pivots, ready to leave the cafe, he hears Chaoze’s loud voice from across the room.

“Where do you think you’re going, You Zhangjing?”

Zhangjing groans and slowly turns back around, hoping Yanjun can’t see his horrible countenance behind his ridiculously large sunglasses. He rushes his way across the cafe, avoiding the annoyed stares from the other customers, and grabs Chaoze’s arm. 

“What the hell is this, Lin Chaoze?” 

“I’m fixing your stupid ass life for you. You should be grateful.” Chaoze twists his arm out of Zhangjing’s grip and pulls him down onto the seat instead. “Take off those fucking ridiculous sunglasses, we’re indoors.” Chaoze yanks the sunglasses off Zhangjing’s face. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have actual homework to finish.” 

“Chaoze, wait-”

Too late. Chaoze had purposefully picked a table near the door, and he leaves the premises in two quick steps.

Zhangjing refuses to make eye contact with Yanjun. He stares pointedly down at the table, unmoving.

After five long seconds, Yanjun speaks up first.

“Please, don’t quit the showcase.”

“Yanjun, I already told you, I’m too busy.”

“I saw that you turned in all of our homework already. You didn’t have to do that for me, you know.”

“So you do know how to log into our school portal,” Zhangjing can’t help but let the snarky tone slip. “That wasn’t for you , and unlike other people, I have other obligations outside of Chem.” 

“Our team needs you,” Yanjun tries again. After a long, silent pause, he adds, “ I need you.” 

Zhangjing flinches. “Lin Yanjun, we both know what you’re trying to do to me right now.”

“I’m not doing anything, I’m just telling you that-”

“Again with the manipulative bullshit. Have you even given it any thought why I cut off contact with you? You think asking me in person and playing with my feelings again is going to make me suddenly agree to your request?” 

“Zhangjing, please-”

“You’ve been stringing me along all semester to get me to do what you want, and you know it, Lin Yanjun. You were clear enough to me at the party how you actually feel about me, and I don’t believe you’ve suddenly changed your mind in a few days. Stop lying and telling me what you think I want to hear to get me to do the performance. For once in your goddamn life, you’re going to have to be successful without someone’s help.”

Zhangjing pretends he does not see the hurt flashing over Yanjun’s eyes at his final words. He tries not to feel bad. Yanjun doesn’t reply. For the first time, he looked vulnerable; deflated. Zhangjing swallows and then stands up. “I wish you well, Yanjun. Break a leg tomorrow.” He leaves the cafe without looking back. 

When he gets back to his room, he folds his legs up on his bed and puts his head down. Chaoze comes back to see Zhangjing in the same position, and sighs.

***

Zhangjing enters the auditorium just as the lights dim. Dressed in all black, with a mask on his face, he takes a seat in the very back row. Goddammit, Chaoze and Dinghao . They had all but pulled Zhangjing out of his bed and forced him out of the room without his key. 

“Don’t come back until the show is over!” Chaoze had shouted.

“And don’t you try to dupe us. We’ll know if you’ve been there the whole time – we have your location!” Dinghao adds.

“How dare you lock me out of my own room that I also pay for!!!!” Zhangjing had yelled. When he saw the RA sticking his head out of his door due to the commotion, Zhangjing promptly shut his mouth and stalked off towards the auditorium, cursing his so-called friends under his breath.

The performance goes smoothly, and Zhangjing tries to fight his conflicting feelings. For one, he’s proud of Yanjun for pulling this performance off. Some twisted part of him is also bitter that he didn’t end up needing Zhangjing anyways. Then again, he was the one who pushed Yanjun away. As the performance nears the end, he breathes a sigh of relief and checks his phone.

extra bitch: Don’t you dare leave now, You Zhangjing. I know there’s one more song left. I have an informant in the crowd.

What the fuck, Zhangjing thinks. He knew his friend was an extra bitch, but this was another level. He takes a deep breath, puts his phone away, and focuses his eyes on the stage again.

“Thank you to everyone for coming tonight,” Yanjun’s voice fills the auditorium. Zhangjing hates how good it sounds. “This is going to be our last song. Someone else way more talented than me was going to perform it, but things between us became a little complicated. Still, I am singing this song for him. Even if he doesn’t see this, I want everyone here to know that this person and song are very special to me.” Zhangjing’s mouth falls slightly agape. He doesn’t know I’m here, and he called me special anyways? He doesn’t miss the whispers among the crowd, undoubtedly other students already gossiping about this special person Yanjun is talking about. 

“Without further ado, this is Best Part .” 

Zhangjing smiles, closes his eyes, and listens. 

***

“Great performance, Lin Yanjun.” Zhangjing doesn’t miss the way Yanjun whips his head around from packing his guitar away, almost tripping on the power cords.

“Zhangjing? What are you doing here?”

“Seeing if you did my song any justice,” Zhangjing steps a little closer, his hands still in the pockets of his hoodie. “It was pretty good, though you did go off key in the last part of the outro.” 

“Cut me some slack, I was singing all evening!” Yanjum defends himself, but Zhangjing catches the small smile that starts to form on his lips.

“Lin Yanjun, I’m only going to give you one more chance. You better tell me the truth.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Did you mean what you said onstage before singing Best Part ?”

 Yanjun steps closer to him. He holds Zhangjing’s arms, softly pulling his hands out of his hoodie pockets. Then, Yanjun drags his own hands down to hold Zhangjing’s.

“Yes. All of it.”

“Was it about me?”

Yanjun leans even closer, his eyes twinkling. “No more games, Zhangjing. Yes.”

Zhangjing tiptoes and closes the distance, feeling Yanjun’s warm lips on his again. The kiss is sweet, soft, and slow. Yanjun lets go of Zhangjing’s hands and moves his hands to his waist. The kiss deepens, and Zhangjing moves his arms to Yanjun’s neck, pulling him even closer. He feels Yanjun’s smile against his lips, and Zhangjing finally believes him. No misunderstandings, no complications. Finally.

extra bitch: um… zhangjing??? the performance is over, why are you still there??

nongfu’s sugar baby: chaoze u know ytf he’s still there. 

extra bitch: OH……..