Archive of Our Own ^beta

As long as he could remember, Minghao had been looking up at the sky. When he was young, at home, he would sit up at night and gaze into the vast expanse of darkness that glittered with bright white freckles upon its cheek. His mother told him how their sky was just a tiny fraction, how the face he knew and loved was but a tiny blemish on the skin of an entire galaxy, just one galaxy among a thousand more.

Minghao’s mother always encouraged him to search the sky above for answers. Minghao grew accustomed to searching outside of himself, rather than looking inward. Instead of making friends on his small, remote settlement out in the far reaches of the solar system, he found friends in the stars that shone bright overhead. He gave them names, stories, personalities. He gave the sky a mythology, as though it were still the days of old. His mother had shelves full of astronomy books from her short time back on Earth. She brought them with her as a small reminder of the way humans had lived before they were able to travel toward the stars they gazed at. It harkened back to a time in which the sky was a blank canvas upon which human beings could paint their likeness, their folly, their triumphs.

She was always adamant, “Minghao,” she insisted, “we must never forget our roots. We have to remember that we are only human. No matter how many advancements we’ve made or how far we’ve come, we have to remember that we are still so small in the grand scheme of things, in this universe among universes.”

So, Minghao spent all his free time sitting outside, with a rickety old telescope that his mother had held onto despite his father’s distaste for the thing, and he found patterns and pictures in the stars. He found the brightest ones, and the faintest ones whenever he could (Minghao never wanted to leave any star out; he knew that though they appeared faint and far away, somewhere lightyears away they shone just as brightly as any other). He catalogued them crudely in his sketchbooks and notebooks. He read the astronomy books, but felt vexed by terms such as “declination” and “right ascension,” so he came up with his own way of doing things. Heck , he always thought, the ancients had to figure out their own systems too.

He showed his creations to his classmates, but quickly grew dismayed and began to keep them to himself. He was met with constant echoes of “Why?” No one could seem to understand why anyone would care to make stories and pictures out of the stars. Space travel was commonplace and accessible. The common person was painfully aware of the relativity of every star’s placement in the skies to your planetary location. They looked different as you traveled from planet to colonized planet, from space station to every outer-rim embassy and rest-hub. What was the point of recording the way they looked from your singular point of view? Humans were scattered all over this galaxy and beyond. Minghao began to wonder if his perspective really mattered, but he chased off these thoughts as quickly as he could. All he ever seemed to need was an evening beneath the stars in solitude, and his place in the universe mattered again.

Eventually, though, things got harder for Minghao. Of course, the human race believed itself to be far beyond bullying, what with all the advancements and progress they’d made, but Minghao couldn’t help but be hurt by his classmate’s cruel words. Sure, being the “weird kid” might not be the worst thing in the universe, but the mocking words and ceaseless exclusion really hurt Minghao for some reason. He tried to make friends, but everyone saw him as the kid who was too preoccupied with stories, who spoke in rhymes or pondered ancient philosophies.

Maybe it was due to the way his mother had sheltered him, filling his head with stories of heroes vanquishing monsters, conquering their greatest fears. Every time a classmate taunted him or talked behind his back, his head swam with images of him standing up to them, acting heroic like one of the men painted in the stars, immortalized for standing up to non-believers and cynics. However much Minghao replayed this scenario in his mind, though, it never came true. He left school each day with regret about not doing enough, not standing up with himself, head filled with what he wished he’d said. He always dismissed these thoughts, anyway, and sought solace in his sky.

It didn’t help that the disapproval of Minghao’s father was always palpable, the way he scoffed every time his wife “wasted time filling the boy’s head with good-for-nothing bullshit fairy tales” (in his father’s own words). Minghao was battered by the disapproval of his peers and his father. He eventually decided that he would never share his stories or stars with anyone, that it was something he would do only for himself.

Despite his mother’s advisories against it, Minghao grew up. However, he still spent his time penning stories about the figures he found in the sky whenever he could, his imagination as ceaseless as ever. One day, when he had reached the tender age of seventeen , his father approached him while he was sitting outside on the stone, in his usual spot, with his sketchbook.

“Minghao,” his dad said, sitting beside him on the large flat rocks that stretched out over the empty rolling hills beside their tiny house, “Have you ever given much thought to what you plan on doing with your life?”

“I love doing this,” Minghao answered, a childlike glint still burning in his eyes despite his growing age. “I want to tell stories, Dad. I want to tell others about the stories I see in the stars.”

“You can’t do this forever, Hao,” he pressed on, a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder while the tone in his voice grew more stern. “People aren’t looking for stories. We’ve come this far from home, and everything people used to dream up, well, none of that stuff is really out here. None of those aliens, no lightspeed travel. There’s no Star Wars or Star Trek. It’s just us and the rest of the empty universe.”

“We haven’t been everywhere in the universe, dad,” Minghao insisted, stubborn and refusing to give into cynicism. He had been for so long, but he was beginning to feel like he was breaking. “Who knows what else is out there? People have just lost their imaginations. I’ll make them remember.”

“It’s not that easy, Hao. People are so far away from each other. We’re even more isolated than we had become on Earth. You haven’t seen things change the way I have. You grew up out here.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No ‘buts’,” Minghao’s dad cut in, despite his son trying with all his might to argue his own case. “You need discipline,” he finished, handing Minghao a pamphlet that read The Triangulum Trade Academy For Boys.

“What does this mean?” Minghao’s voice broke -- he was absolutely shattered. “You’re sending me away?”

Minghao flipped frantically through the pamphlet that he held with trembling hands, inexplicably petrified at the idea. Minghao had always wanted to get away from the planet he called home, but school had never been his strong suit. He figured he would find a way to travel, perhaps hitching a ride with a bunch of scavengers when he was old enough for his parents not to care, but this was never what he had in mind. The last thing he wanted to do was go to a school designed to rip the last of his humanity from his soul, to vaporize what little wonder he had behind his eyes and turn him into a flesh-covered robot fixing parts of ships and tinkering with space-tech, travelling the universe but never getting to really see it. This was what his dad was trying to do to him.

“You need some direction, Minghao. Your mother doesn’t work, and my meager salary can’t support you forever. I won’t hear a word about it. As soon as you turn eighteen, you’re off.”

His father stomped away, and Minghao held the pamphlet in his hands, tears beading at the corners of his eyes. As he dropped down to hit the hard rock beneath him, he looked upon the stars once more, but this time there was nary an answer to be found up above.

-

At the start of his first semester at the Academy, Minghao was lucky to be housed in a double room alone, due to what he could only assume was some minor clerical error. It always amazed him, the way that humans had created and mastered all this technology and science to get themselves thousands of lightyears from home, yet a simple oversight from a bunch of bureaucrats in some office could still lead to an easily avoidable mistake like that. Didn’t they have algorithms for things like this now? He wondered if the school just had an odd number of students. It was quite small, so he figured that could be possible. Still, though, wasn’t that what a triple suite was for?

Either way, Minghao couldn’t complain, as he had grown so used to life as an only child that he could not imagine having to share a room with another human being. Some member of an alien race that mankind had yet to discover out here? Sure, but another of his ilk? It didn’t seem possible for him. So, he elected to keep quiet about his dorm situation, lest the academy offices find out and ruin his arrangement. Luckily, Soonyoung and Wonwoo, his suitemates, were fine with keeping his secret. Unfortunately, though, that meant that they had the leverage to come and bother Minghao whenever they began to feel suffocated by each other in their tiny dorm across the way.

Despite his reclusive nature, Minghao slowly warmed up to his suitemates. He assumed that was in part due to the way that whenever one of them wandered into Minghao’s room, one was too busy complaining about the other to pry about his life, how he was, what he was doing. He preferred to keep it that way. Minghao was always terrified by questions about himself.

At first, the way Soonyoung barrelled through Minghao’s door without warning was grating, but it was something that he had grown endeared by after some time. Plus, he could rely on Soonyoung to always have something fascinating or funny to say, even if he was just complaining about Wonwoo. Minghao got a huge kick out of him. Actually, Minghao quite liked both of them, but he would never tell them that.

“I hate that little shit,” Soonyoung said with a scowl, bursting through Minghao’s door. It was a daily occurence some weeks, and happened more often the longer the pair spent trapped together in that room next to his own.

“What did he do now, Soonyoung?” Minghao asked, sounding exasperated but hiding his amused gaze as best he could behind the textbook he was reading.

Soonyoung made his way over to Minghao, a carton of chocolate milk in hand. Minghao noticed that his own name was scrawled on the side of it in his own handwriting, and considered admonishing Soonyoung for it but decided against it. Some days, Minghao would give Soonyoung shit for mooching but he didn’t have enough energy today.

“He’s just annoying, that’s what,” Soonyoung said, sitting down on the end of Minghao’s bed, prompting the latter to sulk back further toward the headboard and gain some personal space. Soonyoung was oblivious, as usual.

“Click, clack on his stupid old laptop all day. All he does is sit around and work. I’m amazed he even leaves to go to classes sometimes. But every moment he’s in the dorm he’s clacking away at some dumb fucking code or something on his screen.”

Soonyoung took a sip of chocolate milk, then a gulp, hardly stopping his thought. He had a tendency to speak in these fast, almost absent-minded run-on sentences, never wanting to stop to take stock of his thoughts. Minghao always wondered if that was why he hadn’t realized the truth in his feelings. He might have be oblivious to what was going on around him, but Minghao had started to think he was even more oblivious to whatever was going on inside his thick little head.

“And I ask him what he’s working on, and he acts annoyed. Scoffs at me, says it’s none of my business. I try to be nice, but he won’t have it. Prick.”

“He’s just a hard worker, Soon,” Minghao said, making an attempt at reassurance. “He doesn’t like to be bothered when he’s busy.”

“He’s always busy! God forbid he take a break and we hang out or something.”

“And have you finished all your homework for the day, Soon? Or is this tiff with Wonwoo just a way of procrastinating?”

Soonyoung scoffed, becoming blatantly defensive at Minghao’s remark.

“It doesn’t matter, Minghao! God. I’m just annoyed.”

“I think you’re feeling something else besides just annoyance,”

“Pfffft,” Soonyoung spat, “I don’t even know what that means.”

Oblivious, as usual. Minghao decided not to press it, because that’s what he always did. Even if it could grow tiring to hear Soonyoung spout off and sulk about Wonwoo not wanting to spend time with him, Minghao was entertained by Soonyoung’s dramatic displays of lovesickness. Besides, Minghao always figured it best not to pry. He never felt intrigued enough to really pry at anyone before.

“Whatever,” Soonyoung said, tone lightening, “Hey, but it sucks that I won’t be able to come in here and bother you as much, you know, with your new roommate and all.”

“Yeah,” Minghao responded, unthinking and spaced out.

“Just you wait, Hao, living in close quarters with some prick can be-”

“Wait,” Minghao interrupted, “hang on. What’s this about a new roommate?”

“Oh, that’s right, I probably should have given it to you . I found it in the mailbox in the hall. A notice that they are gonna put someone else in this room after all. With you! Exciting…”

Soonyoung trailed off and Minghao felt at a loss for words completely, a bemused, big-eyed stare settling on Soonyoung’s face.

“Hey, Wonwoo and I hate each other, and we haven’t killed each other yet. You’ll survive, besides-”

Minghao found himself lightyears away as Soonyoung droned on with his bullshit about how he was sure Minghao’s roommate would never be as annoying as Wonwoo. Minghao heard none of it. He felt petrified at the idea of having to share such an intimate space with another human. What if they noticed things about him? What if they judged him for it? What if they treated him the way that most of his peers had thus far? Sure, he got along well with Wonwoo and Soonyoung, but that was because they were both too preoccupied with hate-loving each other to notice too much about Minghao. They didn’t ask questions. What if this new person was curious? What if they stuck their nose in where it didn’t belong?

“Minghaoooo?” Soonyoung sing-songed, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Soonyoung, sorry, I just have to finish this reading. I have to finish this reading tonight and I really need to study for that mechanics test tomorrow.”

“Do you need help? I can help!”

Minghao just grabbed Soonyoung by the arm as he rose from his spot on the bed and began to lead him toward the door.

“No, I just really, really need to finish reading. Thanks though.”

“Okay, if you say so, but you know where to find me if you do need help! I aced my engine maintenance quiz. I’ve been failing everything else, but, you know. You win some, you lose some. ”

“That’s great, Soonyoung, I really gotta go, bye.”

Minghao swiftly shut the door in Soonyoung’s face before he could utter another syllable. Minghao didn’t usually chase Soonyoung out like this, but he didn’t know what to do with this new information. He threw himself back down on the bed, staring up at the blank wall above his head, wishing he could see the stars above and ask them for help.

-

Later that week, Minghao had found a second notice in their dorm’s mailbox. Ever since Soonyoung informed him about the first, he found himself frantically checking every moment he could. He checked when he woke up, on the way to classes, and on the way back. Finally, he found what he had been nervously anticipating. It was a notice that detailed when his new roommate would be moving in.

The day Minghao found the second notice, he walked back into his suite to find Wonwoo brewing a cup of coffee, undeniably gearing up for another late study session or coding venture. From what Minghao had learned about Wonwoo, he was incredibly gifted in the language of code and had a good mind for work on space stations or ships. He seemed to be passionate about it, and it made Minghao wonder why he wasn’t at some fancy accredited tech university. They had to exist out here somewhere, right? Still, the academy had a track for students interested in code or in the process of actually designing spacecraft. Unlike Wonwoo, Minghao and Soonyoung were in the maintenance and repairs track. Minghao got by (by the skin of his teeth), but he was beginning to wonder how Soonyoung was still hanging on in their courses. Minghao attributed it to Soonyoung’s charisma and his talent for brown-nosing. Still, he expected that this line of work would become too exhausting for Soonyoung at some point, perhaps. Minghao knew for a fact that it would for himself.

“Ahh, another notice?” Wonwoo asked after he greeted Minghao, spotting the envelope in his hand.

“You knew, too?” Minghao asked, visibly defeated at the prospect of sharing his room. Each day it seemed to get more and more real, but it didn’t get any easier to stomach.

“Yeah, Soonyoung came bursting through our door while I was sleeping and woke me up to show me, and then he said something weird and vague about how he had to tell you and immediately fell back asleep.”

“That explains it,” Minghao muttered, noticing how Wonwoo was taking stock of his dreary expression.

“Dude, don’t worry. You’ll live. I know you like to keep to yourself but it’s not the end of the world. I doubt whomever they match you up with will be even half as high-strung as Soonyoung.”

Minghao just let out an exasperated sigh.

“Ahh, you’re also gonna have to tell him to stop running to your room whenever he throws a hissy fit at me, right?”

“Speaking of that,” Minghao said, tone sharpening, “He gets really pissed whenever you ignore him. Do you really hate him that much?”

Wonwoo laughed, a mischievous smile spreading across his features.

“I don’t hate him at all. He’s fun. But I do enjoy seeing him get all fired up.”

“Jesus, Wonwoo,” Minghao laughed, bewildered by the emotional illiteracy of his suitemates as always. “If do you like him, maybe that’s not the best way to show it.”

“Nah, I’m sure he’s aware that it’s just part of our relationship. It’s playful. I mean, he does get on my nerves sometimes. I don’t wanna be bothered a ton while I work. His energy is a fun distraction sometimes, though. I just like to egg him on.”

“I think you’d be surprised to know how oblivious he is, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo just shrugged, uncaring.

“Did you read the notice?” Wonwoo asked, stirring some sugar into his otherwise black coffee. Minghao loved the way that Wonwoo poured it into a huge glass rather than a coffee cup.

“Oh,” Minghao looked down at the envelope in his hands, realizing he had already forgotten about it. He was always surprised by what a pleasant distraction Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s weird, dysfunctional relationship was. Minghao was confident they were in love with each other, but not confident that one of them would ever make a move, or that Soonyoung would even realize it.

Minghao slipped a finger under the fold of the envelope, popping open the seal. Wonwoo skulked over, coffee in hand, so he could read over his shoulder.

“He’s coming on Sunday,” Minghao said after scanning the letter, his heart sinking.

“His name is Kim Mingyu. Interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?!” Minghao snapped, voice cracking and climbing up a tone.

“Relax, Minghao,” Wonwoo laughed, always amused by the woes of others. “It means nothing. You’ll be fine. What are you so worried about, anyway?”

“Nothing. I gotta go do homework,” Minghao said, leaving Wonwoo in the suite alone as he hurried to his room, notice still in hand. He flopped down onto his bed and groaned. In two days, a Kim Mingyu would be in his room. All he could do right then was hope that they would get along, and even more that this Mingyu guy would mind his damn business. Things never seemed to go the way that Minghao wished, though.

He fell asleep reading through his journal, remembering the stars he’d mapped out at home, dreaming that he would look upon the familiar face of that sky.

-

Minghao couldn’t figure out whether he woke up painfully early on the day of his expected roommate’s arrival, or if he had just stayed up all night. Staying up through his usual sleeping hours was something Minghao was unfortunately used to, but it was usually to sneak out to the observatory and chart the stars, or stay up reading a book his mother had sent him in the mail. This time, though, he was awake entirely due to anxious nerves. He slipped in and out of a sleep that was plagued with surrealistic nightmares and intrusive thoughts.

Minghao knew he was being dramatic, and Wonwoo and Soonyoung had felt the need to remind him of this several times already, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he had. It was like a bad omen, and he didn’t even know why. Was the prospect of having to live in a shared space with one of his own kind really that terrifying? Was it his need for privacy, his fear of judgment, or a combination of the two? All he could do was hope that the new roommate was more self-centered and unobservant than the suitemates he had lived in such close quarters with thus far.

So Minghao did what he always did: he hoped with all his might and he went back to sleep. He decided to forego his classes, figuring that it would do him no good to further stress himself out with Space Station Mechanics 101 or whatever boring shit he was studying.

Minghao finally drifted off into a somber, welcoming slumber, for what seemed like the first time all night (or morning). The unfortunate thing about this was that by the time Minghao woke up, his new roommate was already there.

Unfortunately, after a night of tossing and turning and a morning of grasping at straws for a nice sound sleep, Minghao awoke to a loud CRASH and a string of hushed expletives. He was shocked awake, but took a moment to stir up to a sitting position entirely. Before him, in the far corner of the room, knelt a boy. He was fumbling with the fragmented frame of his bed, which Minghao could only assume had fallen apart just moments earlier with the crash that woke him up. He had dark hair that was neatly kept, as Minghao could see from behind, and a deep complexion. Minghao immediately noticed a beauty mark behind his ear, and he cursed himself as he reminded himself not to count his apparent roommate’s beauty marks, of which Minghao now assumed he had many.

After a moment of fumbling with the bedframe, the boy, who Minghao could only assume was the Kim Mingyu, suddenly seemed aware that he was being watched and realized that his bed frame struggles had shaken Minghao awake. The boy peered over his shoulder with wide eyes (eyes that Minghao noticed were intense and dark but filled with the sparkle of purity and sweetness) that seemed to realize that he had been caught. The boy dropped the leg of the frame that he was holding between his hands and rose quickly, revealing a large stature. He wasn’t slight by any means. He was very tall and Minghao could not help but unfortunately notice his wide arms, which seemed to give way to gangly limbs. He was unrealistically handsome, now that Minghao could look upon his full form, but the gait of his legs and the posture in his shoulders seemed to be filled with a childlike sense of humility as he realized that his mistake had roused his roommate.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m Mingyu,” he said, voice sort of gravelly but coated in a syrupy tone. He brushed the dust off his knees and hands and walked toward Minghao, who was smothered in a mess of blankets as he sat on his bed, tired eyes peering out and drool-stained cheek still fresh. What a great first impression, Minghao couldn’t help but think of himself.

“Sorry I woke you, this thing is a bitch... or maybe I’m just uncoordinated,” Mingyu finished with a chuckle and a smile that made Minghao’s skin feel hot. Minghao further resisted the heat that seemed to spread over his knuckles and his knees as he noted the bashful look on Mingyu’s face, the way he fumbled with his hands a bit more as he tried to find his footing in front of Minghao’s clearly sour, guarded demeanor.

Minghao thought Mingyu had the manner of a big, fumbly dog who didn’t know his own size or strength. Though his eyes were dark and entrancing, they turned into puppy-dog eyes as soon as he discovered he had disturbed Minghao, as though he had peed on the carpet and was moping about it or something. It took the combined energy of every cell and bone in Minghao’s body to resist his new roommate’s charms, and especially to hold in a giggle at the sight before him.

“Anyway, I hope this doesn’t leave a bad impression,” Mingyu mulled with a toothy smile, still bashful but extending a hand toward Minghao now that he seemed more composed. Minghao accepted it and the hearty handshake he received from Mingyu sent a jolt through his tired bones.

“I’m Minghao. Don’t worry about it,” he responded, tone full of nonchalance. Minghao had to admit that he felt his nerves melt when his hand was in Mingyu’s firm grasp. He was still pretty fucking afraid of all of this, but he tried to calm himself down. Maybe Mingyu was like Soonyoung: oblivious, fumbly, and too preoccupied with his own racing thoughts to pry. Perhaps, instead, Mingyu was like Wonwoo: too busy overachieving and living in his head to ask questions. Still, Minghao had a feeling about Mingyu already, that he was different. For a moment, Minghao thought that might not be the worst thing.

“I see you have a lot of books” was the next thought that escaped Mingyu’s lips (which Minghao caught himself gaping at whenever Mingyu talked, curse his goddamn wandering eyes), and it snapped Minghao out of his optimistic daze and back to the harsh reality of his anxiety.

“Do you like to read?”

There it was, the thing that Minghao had learned to dread. The anxiety consumed his nerves yet again, against his will. He struggled to find the right response.

“They’re just books for school,” was the one he settled on.

“Oh,” Mingyu responded, the slightest hint of defeat filling his voice. “I just noticed some of them are novels, and I see a couple books on subjects they don’t offer here, so I was wondering.”

Minghao just nodded as Mingyu smiled and turned away, finally going back to his side of the room to fumble with his bed frame a bit more. Minghao breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that Mingyu had decided not to pry or ask questions about him or his books.

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you Minghao,” Mingyu said with a warm smile as he tried once more to screw the leg into the bed frame the right way. “I’m excited to get to know you better.”

And that was exactly what Minghao was afraid of.

-

There were a couple of things that Minghao had come to dislike about Kim Mingyu within the first few weeks of his stay.

The first was the way he looked when he woke up in the morning. Upon rolling out of bed and ruffling his hair with his hands, Mingyu looked nearly indistinguishable from his usual, handsome self. His skin always seemed to be glowing when he rose from his bed and stretched his arms out wide, welcoming the day with a big yawn. His hair was never stuck in all different directions the way Minghao’s always was when he woke in the morning. Mingyu wasn’t just plain old handsome. He was always handsome.

Minghao didn’t like the way that Mingyu seemed so good at everything he set out to do. The pair shared two courses together, and Mingyu (despite the klutz Minghao had come to know him as) always tried his best to do things right. He tinkered with parts for hours until he nailed the configurations. He was diligent at studying and got good marks on all his tests. He even asked Minghao to study with him every so often (Minghao always declined). Minghao hated this type of work, and he didn’t think Mingyu seemed like a person that was particularly well suited for maintenance or mechanics, but he still tried his absolute best at every little task the students were handed. Their instructors still loved him, even when he fucked up while attempting to correctly patch a fuel canister in a mock trial.

At a glance, Kim Mingyu seemed pretty perfect, almost insufferably so, but that’s the thing about living with someone, Minghao began to notice. You don’t just see their perfect outer shell. Eventually, you’ll begin to notice their flaws, their weird habits, little synchronicities that set them apart. The problem with Mingyu’s flaws, if you wanted to call them that, was how endearing they were. He seemed like someone Minghao could look at from afar and judge in one fleeting moment, a much-too perfect try hard, but he couldn’t possibly do that now when he saw Mingyu in his dwelling, at his most vulnerable.

Mingyu was tall, which only served to up his handsome-factor, of course, but for him, height seemed to come with a price. At times, he seemed well-spoken and he walked with confidence, but Minghao had watched his shoulders melt after one of his long limbs unknowingly struck a stack of books and sent them tumbling. Minghao saw Mingyu close his hand in a drawer and curse himself, slinking off into their shared suite to ice it. Minghao had the rare opportunity of seeing what a bumbling clumsy kid Mingyu could be, as well as the way he seemed to kick himself and mope whenever his lankiness and long limbs betrayed him.

Minghao noticed some other things, too, all of which were equally distressing. Minghao noticed that sometimes, Mingyu had a slight lisp when he talked. He seemed to hide it well, and his talkative and excitable personality proved that. It took Minghao several weeks to notice it, and it only showed itself when Mingyu seemed particularly nervous or excited, or at the utterance of specific words like “ice” or “ounce.” Minghao began to notice it even more whenever he saw Mingyu get fired up about something. One morning, Mingyu was arguing with Soonyoung about a homework problem in the common space and Minghao watched him unknowingly fire spit at Soonyoung as he attempted to correct the thick-headed boy’s answers. Minghao choked back a giggle as he watched Soonyoung wipe his face.

Noticing the lisp eventually led Minghao to notice something even worse. Minghao found himself watching Mingyu’s mouth when he spoke, and Minghao noticed that Mingyu’s teeth were ever-so-slightly crooked. The tooth just beside his two front teeth was shorter than all of the others, and the tooth next to it stuck out just a tiny bit. He also had incredibly sharp and pronounced canines that served to make his smile look a bit more wonky. Minghao figured he could attribute the lisp to Mingyu’s slightly crooked teeth, perhaps, but fuck if he knew what to do with this information once he noticed. The beautiful Kim Mingyu, with a face more handsome than humankind had seen since the days back on Earth of Hollywood movie stars, had a crooked smile. Minghao cursed him for this.

Ever the wallflower, Minghao was disastrously observant, and living with someone seemed to bring that out in him even more. It was doubly troublesome that his roommate was Kim Mingyu, someone you couldn’t come to know without falling prisoner to his charms. All these little superficial things were vexing, of course, but there was one trait of Mingyu’s that made it even worse.

Mingyu was painfully kind, sweet, and eager to get to know Minghao. His nicety wasn’t ingenuine or put-on. Minghao knew it was entirely sincere. Every time Mingyu wanted to study with Minghao, he asked him for help, never taking pity on Minghao’s clear disinterest in their studies, but genuinely reaching out because he wanted a friend to go over homework with. When Mingyu asked Minghao about his interests, his life, anything, he really seemed interested. There was never a pretense with Mingyu. No matter how hard Minghao searched for a red flag, he couldn’t find one.

Perhaps it was because Minghao had never encountered a person like Mingyu before, but he had no idea what to make of this, and it frankly scared the shit out of him. All he had to do was dismiss his other suitemates’ or classmates’ queries about himself, and they never pried again, but Mingyu wasn’t so easily defeated. He wasn’t nosy or gratingly persistent, either, but he always showed genuine interest and never seemed dissuaded by Minghao’s cold-shoulder brush-offs for long.

The worst part of all of this, was that Minghao knew that if Kim Mingyu kept this up, at this rate, he was going to give in and open up someday soon.

-

Mingyu had settled perfectly into their little suite in the month that followed his move-in. He got on well with Wonwoo and Soonyoung whenever he encountered them. However, Minghao couldn’t say the same. Really, he got on fine with Mingyu, but he was struggling to deal with the way that Mingyu was so open, so interested in Minghao. For the life of him, Minghao couldn’t understand why.

Despite this setback, Wonwoo and Soonyoung (on separate occasions, of course) both reassured Minghao he had nothing to worry about.

“He’s so nice, dude. He’s nothing like Wonwoo! He’s always down to chill if you ask him, but he still manages to balance that with his course work. Actually, I don’t know how he does it. I’m kind of envious of him,” Soonyoung ranted to Minghao on one morning in their shared suite while Wonwoo was presumably catching up on sleep missed the night before and Mingyu was still getting ready for the day.

“What is it that you dislike about him anyway?” Soonyoung asked, clearly befuddled.

“It’s nothing, really,” Minghao answered. “You wouldn’t understand, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung let out his trademark pffft, spit flying from his pursed lips, and then Minghao remembered Soonyoung’s situation with Wonwoo, and realized that perhaps he would. Minghao knew that the whole reason Soonyoung “hated” Wonwoo was because of his obvious deep-seated feelings for Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s refusal to acknowledge said feelings. However, Minghao knew he wasn’t that far gone yet. He couldn’t be. He’d only known Mingyu for a month, for chrissake.

“Well, I don’t care what you say, Hao,” Soonyoung put on, in the tone he wore when he knew he was right. “He’s the best roommate you could have gotten.”

Minghao knew this was true, actually; in his eyes the problem was that Mingyu was just a little too good. Minghao hadn’t a fuck of an idea how to stop searching for Mingyu’s beauty marks and how to pull his eyes away from Mingyu’s intense gaze whenever he approached Minghao to ask him if he wanted to study, or if he wanted to go for a walk.

Still, Minghao persisted . Despite how captivating Minghao found Mingyu, he managed to shoot down Mingyu’s attempts at bonding or his seemingly benevolent questions about Minghao’s interests or his life. The problem was, he felt more and more awful each time he did it. The looks on Mingyu’s face grew more and more defeated each time. Minghao had never been made to feel guilty about the barriers and walls he put up before. Every time another classmate asked him a question that he deemed too personal to answer, all he had to do was make an excuse and escape into the privacy of his then solitary room. He couldn’t do this with Mingyu, though. Mingyu was always there.

As a result, Minghao sought to escape his little dwelling even more often. He took to doing work in the suite and asked Wonwoo if he could work on stuff in his room, to which Wonwoo obliged because he knew he could trust Minghao to not be a disturbance. He even asked Soonyoung to go out and study more often. Minghao began to wonder why he would choose to endure hours of Soonyoung’s deafening raving over the opportunity to gawk at Mingyu and watch him break the tip of his mechanical pencil a hundred times as he sat and took notes. He knew the reason why.

Minghao was simply too terrified of everything Mingyu embodied. His good looks were terrifying on their own, but if Mingyu was just a handsome douchebag, Minghao could deal with that. However, Mingyu was unassuming and humble and he asked a ton of questions. Mingyu asked Minghao what he wanted to eat for breakfast when he woke up earlier than him. He asked Minghao questions about their homework when he was unsure about something (though he usually already knew the answer), but those weren’t the questions Minghao was bothered by.

Mingyu asked Minghao what he was listening to whenever he had headphones in. He asked him what he liked to do on the weekends. He continued to ask him about his books, taking note every time he started reading a new one. Minghao tried his best to be civil and give polite yet vague responses to Mingyu’s curious questions, careful to never reveal too much. He insisted the books his mother sent him were just things that she appreciated and that she was always trying to push her interests onto him, which was half true. Minghao claimed he just read because he was bored and his brain melted from having to pour over mechanical manuals and textbooks about ship maintenance all day. Mingyu seemed satisfied with this, for a while.

Eventually, though, Minghao began to avoid Mingyu more. He spent more time outside the dorms. He escaped to the observatory at night even more than he already did, and began to discover the best nights to wander the halls, the nights when instructors and staff were sparse. Minghao realized he was plotting stars more often than he had when he was a child back home, and in a way he was thankful for it. It got his mind off of the elephant (or, more appropriately, the large and unfortunately handsome man) in the room, the room he so often avoided for fear of breaking and letting his guard down, only to be judged at best or mocked at worst. He feared Mingyu would lose interest when he saw what a loser he was. Not that he wanted Mingyu to be interested, and anyway, why the hell would he care?

Minghao knew he couldn’t keep on like this for long. He knew that Mingyu would notice something was up eventually. He couldn’t be sure that realization would end in confrontation, though, not until it really happened.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Minghao had skipped his last class of the day to look at his most recent star chart. He figured it was time to come up with fun little tales for all the new constellations he’d charted, and he was happier than he’d been in years. He was most excited about a constellation he’d charted and drawn of a witch, with a little magical fox companion. He had pulled out his favorite book of Greek myths for reference, thinking he might draw inspiration from Medusa or something.

That was, until he heard footsteps in the suite and he could tell his solitude was about to be threatened. He was more distraught when he saw the tallest member of their shared suite walk through the door.

“Hey, Minghao,” Mingyu said, munching absentmindedly on an apple.

He wandered over to Minghao’s bedside in an equally absent-minded manner, and Minghao struggled to close his journal and find some decoy of a textbook or notebook to now pretend he was reading instead.

“What are you working on?” Mingyu asked, eyes boring straight into the frazzled boy trying to hide his scrawlings.

“Why do you give a shit?” Minghao bit, immediately feeling regret at his harsh tone, but too frazzled to contain his blistering nerves.

Mingyu just looked broken. Minghao realized he wanted to cry for some fucking reason, holding it in, but noticing beads forming in the perfect little corners of Mingyu’s eyes.

“You know, if you don’t like me, you can just fucking tell me.”

Oh no, Minghao cursed himself in his head, struggling to put together a response.

“That’s not it, Mingyu.”

“Like hell that’s not it! Ever since I walked in here, all I’ve been trying to do is be nice. I just wanted to get to know you, and everytime I ask you to hang out, or if you want to study, or even so much as ask you what fucking book you’re reading, you shoot me down. What am I supposed to think of that?”

Mingyu’s lisp was showing as he spoke, so now Minghao knew that it came out whenever he got upset, too. Minghao tried to pull himself away from his fixation long enough to blurt out something. Anything, you fuckwad, he told himself.

“Mingyu, I swear, I don’t hate you,” Minghao’s voice broke, “It’s just...”

There was a pause. Minghao trailed off, consumed completely by a barrage of nervous thoughts. What was he supposed to say? It’s just the opposite, Mingyu. You’re too fucking attractive for me to stand living with and you’re kinder to me than anyone has ever been even though all I do is ignore you and that scares the living shit out of me. I’m terrified to fuck it up but I probably just did. I want to get to know you too. I hardly know you, yet I know that I could never hate you, not in a million years, not in another universe. Never.

That was it, actually, but how could Minghao admit that to a guy he barely ever talked to? He was in too deep, his head was absolutely swimming. He was just sitting below Mingyu, being eaten alive by the emotions he’d buried for far too long. Not just his questionable feelings for Mingyu, which he constantly wondered if he was blowing out of proportion and hoped would pass, but the way he’d pushed people away and isolated himself for months. How could a person live like this? Maybe it was easier back home, but here? When he was surrounded by people who were perfectly good, people who liked him and wanted to get to know him? Perhaps, even, people who were mature young adults and who surely were too preoccupied with their own shit to judge his stupid little hobby or the starry eyed look he had tried to hide from everyone since he’d been stuck in this barren trash heap of a space station. He tried to pull himself back to reality and dredge up some sorry excuse, any excuse, but Mingyu spoke first.

“You just, what?” He spat. Minghao was at a loss for words. “Whatever, Minghao. Come talk to me when you figure out what the problem is. I’m done trying to be civil with someone who makes it impossible.

Mingyu stormed out, a harsh slam of their dorm room door making Minghao shudder. The tears he was holding back began to pool at his eyes and drip down his cheeks. He never knew it was possible to feel worse than he had when his dad told him he was sending him to this shithole, and he might have fucked up the only decent thing about being here.

All Minghao could do was lay in bed and cry. He felt like a little kid again, but he knew the stars could not help him, not now.

-

The week following Mingyu’s outburst was tense all around the dorm suite. Even Wonwoo took note of how utterly distraught Minghao appeared, shoulders slumped over the dining table and weighed down in a way that put even Wonwoo’s poor posture to shame.

“Is this about your argument with Mingyu the other day?” Wonwoo asked, sitting down at the table beside Minghao with his comically large coffee glass in hand.

“How would you know?”

“Oh, I didn’t know. I just guessed. I heard the door slam.”

Wonwoo always had a way of drawing things out of you that you didn’t want to share. Soonyoung had once told Minghao of an occasion when Wonwoo wasn’t being a “total dick” (in his words) and talked Soonyoung down from an intense breakdown about his upcoming exam that he was sure he’d fail. He apparently calmed Soonyoung down long enough for him to come back to reality and think (which was a feat in and of itself), after which he just went and asked Minghao for help, which was the easiest solution in front of him, after all. Wonwoo knew that.

Of course, Minghao always thought that the only reason Wonwoo was so compassionate then was to get Soonyoung to stop bawling so he could concentrate on his coding work. But who knew? Minghao was sure Wonwoo cared about Soonyoung in his own twisted way.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Minghao moped, and Wonwoo laughed at his all-too characteristic response.

“You never do. Maybe that’s the problem,” Wonwoo said. Something about the way Wonwoo spoke made him sound wise beyond his years. Minghao reminded himself to create a constellation of an old wise hermit and name it after him.

“Actually, it is,” Minghao admitted, sinking forward onto the table to bury his face in his arms.

“I know I’m not one to pry, and that Soonyoung is too preoccupied with his own word vomit most times to ask questions, but I’ve noticed you seem to have an aversion to any and all questions about yourself.”

Minghao just groaned and buried his eyes deeper. Was he really so transparent? He tried to tell himself that Wonwoo was just supernaturally observant, perhaps an esper. He filed that idea away in his memory as well; a wise old esper, brilliant, he thought.

“It’s okay to be private, Minghao, but you’re gonna need someone, someday. You’re gonna look around and no one will be there. I’m not speaking for myself, so don’t freak out, but not everyone’s as willing to take vague brush-offs as others. Mingyu is obviously one of those people.”

“I know, I know,” Minghao lamented, all too aware of the way Mingyu was.

“What should I do? I don’t think he’ll forgive me if I apologize. He has no reason to. All I’ve done is act like a jackass ever since he moved in.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help but burst out at the seams with a smug laugh, for some fucking reason.

“What the hell is so funny about this to you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Wonwoo said between chuckles, trying to calm himself down, “but have you seen me and Soonyoung? All we do is argue, yet we still live together. We get by. Mingyu is a good guy, I’m sure he’ll accept your apology with a little effort.”

“What kind of effort?”

“Well, the best way to conquer your fear, sometimes, is to just dive in and do it.”

Minghao knew this was true, hell, he’d read enough myths in his day to know that humans had to face their fears since the beginning of time, whether it was a terrifying monster or just an abstraction, a feeling, a curse, perhaps.

“Tell him how you feel,” Wonwoo insisted. At this, Minghao shot up from the table and stared at Wonwoo, wide-eyed, feeling seen .

“I don’t mean that, ” Wonwoo said with a smirk that said I’ve seen you gawking at him, you transparent buffoon. Maybe people on the outside were always better at seeing through the fronts people put up around the people they fell for, even better than themselves.

“I mean, tell him why you acted this way. Explain yourself. Admit to him that you’re anxious and scared shitless at his curiosity in regards to you, and then try to do better, to be better.”

Minghao scoffed. “Easier said than done.”

“Take it one step at a time, then. Dip your toes in, see how it feels.”

Minghao knew it had to be done. He couldn’t live with himself knowing he’d made Mingyu think he hated him. So, he pulled himself up, brushed himself off, and started the day with a new resolve.

Minghao went to class, as usual. He goofed off with Soonyoung, trying to ignore the way that Mingyu was trying oh-so hard to figure out the complicated mechanics lab assignment they’d been handed today.

At the end of the day, he made his way with Soonyoung through the halls back to their dorm, dreading each and every step. Even Soonyoung caught wind of his heavy shoulders and nervous pace.

“Are you going to try to talk to Mingyu today?”

“How did you know?”

‘Well, it’s been a week,” Soonyoung sighed, “Not that you two are the best of friends, but I could tell something happened between you.”

Minghao peered at Soonyoung in disbelief.

“Okay, okay, Mingyu talked to me about it. He was pretty upset, Hao.”

The pair approached the door to their suite and Soonyoung gave Minghao a reassuring rub on the shoulder once they had reached their respective bedroom doors inside.

“You’ll be fine, Hao. Just try to be honest.”

Minghao nodded, though he wasn’t used to Soonyoung playing the role of the reassuring friend. He wasn’t used to a lot of what he was experiencing lately.

Soonyoung disappeared into his dorm and Minghao finally approached his door, hesitating for a moment as his fingers brushed the doorknob. He took a deep breath and twisted it open. Inside, he found Mingyu, turned toward the wall on his bed, taking notes and studying hard as usual.

“Mingyu, can I talk to you?” Minghao approached Mingyu’s bed, not being able to keep his voice from breaking. Mingyu just turned around, his pursed lips and stone cold stare an image Minghao had become way too accustomed to in the last week.

“I want to apologize for how I acted,” he began, noticing that Mingyu wanted to butt in, but forcing a hand out, motioning for him to quiet and let him finish. “I’m an only child. I don’t know how the hell to live with someone else. I’ve really never done it before. Also, uh, I’ve never really had any friends, except for maybe Soonyoung and Wonwoo, but they… don’t ask me a ton of questions, and I guess your questions scared me. I just… I’m terrified of being judged and I don’t know how to trust people. I’ll try to do better, I-”

Mingyu interrupted Minghao by shooting up from his bed and enveloping him in a huge, warm hug. Minghao should have been stunned. He should have pushed Mingyu away, but he couldn’t. He let himself get lost in it. He accepted the hug, and returned it, burying his nose into the warm soft fabric of Mingyu’s shirt, taking in his scent. He was jerked back to reality only when Mingyu let go, hands moving to grip his shoulders.

“ I’m sorry for how I reacted. I should have respected your boundaries more. I noticed you didn’t talk a lot, to anyone, but I made it about me.”

“No, no, I’m the asshole,” Minghao argued, now shaking a bit, his nerves fraught at Mingyu’s tight grip on him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged, and he wasn’t sure he’d received a hug from anyone but his mother.

“Let’s just move past it, Hao, can I call you Hao? I know Soonyoung does, but-”

“Of course,” Minghao interrupted with a smile, the lines of his cheeks creating little crescents. Mingyu just patted him on the shoulders and let go. Minghao felt bliss, relief, and butterflies, all at once. Goddamnit, he thought, backing away from Mingyu to return to his own side of the room.

“I’ll try to be respectful of your boundaries,” Mingyu reassured with a grin.

“And I’ll try to be more open,” Minghao admitted, telling himself he had to mean it, but he wasn’t prepared for what came next.

“Okay, then, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why you always seem to disappear while I’m asleep?”

Minghao didn’t know what was more unsettling, Mingyu confronting him about this or the fact that Mingyu woke up in the middle of the night and often noticed that he was gone. He figured it was an even split.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Now, or ever, I’m just really, really curious,” Mingyu said, rushed speech bringing out his lisp just slightly. “Is it something spooky? Are you trying to conjure up ghosts or something? I don’t know, I just-”

“I’ll answer,” Minghao interrupted, “but… I get over-protective of my interests. I got made fun of for it when I was younger. A lot of people thought it was either pointless or stupid.”

Minghao had become visibly anxious and shaky in front of Mingyu, overcome by memories of childhood rejection and exclusion. He knew it wasn’t possible to make it through life without interacting with his peers, but he had his reasons. No one had ever gotten this far with him. No one ever saw him like this, nervous and shaky and refusing to talk about a habit or a hobby that was clearly an important part of him, deep down inside. Minghao realized he could attribute that to the fact that no one had ever gotten as close as Mingyu, and as much as it was due to Mingyu’s inevitably close proximity, he thought of it as having to do just as much with the boy’s calming warm aura and his dumbfoundingly earnest demeanor.

“Minghao,” Mingyu sighed. Minghao had yet to get used to the way Mingyu said his name, “I promise I won’t judge you. I just want to get to know you. I’m your friend.”

Minghao felt icy cold and like he was absolutely boiling over, somehow at the exact same time. The idea of Mingyu wanting to get to know him was absolutely too much for him to bear. He felt an odd rush at the idea of finally being able to open up to someone about his hobbies and interests, someone who might really understand it for once. His initial anxiety had given way to anticipation, to the goosebumps that pricked at his neck every time Mingyu did this, every time he asked Minghao to bear his soul with nothing but unbridled enthusiasm.

“It’s hard to explain,” Minghao finally admitted, somewhat bashful, much to his own discontent (and to Mingyu’s obvious delight, evident in the way he looked on, a satisfied grin glued to his face as Minghao opened up bit by stubborn bit). Wonwoo had told him to dip a toe into the river, to conquer his fear with baby-steps, but Minghao was tired of being alone. He mustered up what little courage he could, thinking of Odysseus, or Sun Wukong. He decided he was ready to dive in.

“If you just come with me, I could show you, though.”

“I’d love that,” Mingyu admitted, far too cavalier for Minghao to handle.

“Great,” Minghao said, shooting back into his trademark sarcastic tone, “be ready at 2300 hours.”

“You can count on it.”

Mingyu’s initial unfaltering devotion as a friend and roommate had once scared the absolute lights out of him, but Minghao was beginning to find comfort in it. With that, he bid goodbye and headed out to his night class, his head swimming with thoughts of the night ahead of him.

-

When Minghao woke up from his usual mid-evening nap, instead of finding his roommate fast asleep, he found Mingyu sitting on his bed wrapped in a canopy of blankets, head propped up on two hands whose arms rested soundly on his knees, waiting and watching. Minghao had never known it was possible to be so charmed and unsettled at the same time.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Minghao asked, somewhat coy but still refusing to mince words.

“N-no,” a spaced out Mingyu suddenly panicked, “I was just waiting for you to wake up.”

Minghao knew it was a bullshit excuse, but due to his refusal to acknowledge the fact that Mingyu was undeniably watching him as he slept, he just mustered a simple “Ahh, okay,” grabbed his knapsack, and insisted they get on their way.

Minghao peered through their bedroom door and out into their shared suite to make sure the coast was clear before heading out. He grabbed a bag of chips from the cabinet before they went, assuming that Mingyu might want a snack. Minghao had noticed that his appetite more than suited someone of his size and stature.

“Have you always been this secretive?” Mingyu asked in a hushed tone as they entered the dark hallway.

“I have my reasons,” Minghao answered, the lilt of his voice urging Mingyu to shut the hell up before he regretted letting him accompany him.

The pair made their way out of the dormitory section of the space station and into the main hall, Minghao leading the way and being careful to check around every corner before he and Mingyu proceeded. It was a Friday, and luckily there was no sign of staff or faculty lurking around in the halls after hours. The closer it got to the weekend, Minghao noticed, the more absent the staff of the academy seemed to be. One night Minghao passed by the faculty room and he could hear the recognizable monotone drones of his instructors, uncharacteristically filled with joy or some uncommon emotion under the influence of what he could only presume was alcohol. He laughed and pressed on, even more reassured that none of them would come looking for him on weekend nights.

Minghao led Mingyu to the spiral staircase that bookended the main hall, turning to face his roommate only to be met with a look of bewilderment. Minghao began his way up the claustrophobic staircase and beckoned Mingyu to follow, and he did, just like the sweet little puppy he was. As they climbed story after seemingly endless story (not that the staircase did much to indicate the breaks between them, as it was spiral shaped and bare, nondescript, leading nowhere) Minghao eventually spoke up and told Mingyu it was safe to talk at a normal volume now, with some discretion.

“Okay, where the hell are we going? Is this some weird dungeon?”

“So, you haven’t been to the observatory yet?”

“The what? We have an observatory?”

“Yep,” Minghao answered, “No one really uses it. Students are allowed here during the day. Some people come here to study. The atmosphere is nice, but it’s kind of desolate and abandoned, even during school hours. It’s not really much. There’s a telescope, but I prefer to use my own, even if it’s shitty and old. No one really uses it for what it’s supposed to be used for. It’s a wonder it’s even here, but this place is pretty old apparently. From back when people still wanted to observe the stars.”

“Oh my god, is that what we’re doing? We’re going to look at the stars?”

Minghao felt his heart sink into his stomach.

“You promised you wouldn’t judge me,” he stopped in his tracks though he knew they were finally close to the door.

“Oh, I’m not, I swear! I just… never thought to do that. It’s kind of cool.”

“No one really thinks anymore, huh?” Minghao scoffed. It seemed that Mingyu didn’t know whether to take offense, and took pause to pout for a moment before continuing on.

They approached the door and Minghao opened it. What was revealed was a huge sprawling room with gray tile floors and a dome window, covered partially with beams but still revealing a vast view of the stars above and around. In the center was a large telescope. Minghao turned around to see the look on Mingyu’s face, and he was ecstatic. His crooked smile was in full show, and Minghao took time to notice the way that Mingyu’s lips curled delightfully around his almost-perfect teeth, noticing the way that the shape of his lips contributed to his offset smile just as much as his front left tooth. His eyes glittered, the starlight bouncing back off of their shine, lighting up the room just enough for Minghao. He spent many dark nights here alone, and he was used to it, but he couldn’t help but notice how different the room looked when it was lit up by Mingyu’s face.

Mingyu lowered his eyes to meet Minghao’s. It took everything in his power to not lean in and kiss him.

Minghao let out a feigned cough and turned around. “So, anyway, this is the observatory. I come here to look at the stars.”

“That’s it? This is what you were afraid of sharing?”

Minghao nodded and braced himself.

“It’s fucking awesome! Why would you be afraid to share this?”

“Well, it’s not just that. I… Do you know what constellations are?”

Mingyu shook his head.

“When humans were still on Earth, back in ancient times even, they spent a lot of time gazing up at the sky and charting the stars. People used the stars to navigate, back before all the technology we have now. They didn’t have access to perfect coordinates, so they followed the stars instead.”

“Okay, okay, explain,” Mingyu said, excited and impatient, “You’re giving me a history lesson. And?”

Minghao laughed. Puppy, he thought.

“Well, after they spent time staring at the stars, they began to look for patterns in them. Pictures. They wrote stories, too, stories about heroes and monsters and wars. They began to draw them in the stars.”

“I don’t want to be rude, but I… don’t get it.”

“That’s what a lot of people say,” Minghao gulped, trying to push on. He would find a way to make this make sense to Mingyu somehow.

“Here, let me show you this,” Minghao sat down on the floor and motioned for Mingyu to follow. He opened his knapsack and pulled out his telescope and his books, starting with his journal. He opened it up to the first couple pages.

“This is the view of the stars from my home planet,” He showed Mingyu the folded up makeshift map he had created.

“Okay, but aren’t stars just like, big balls of light and fire and shit? They look different everywhere.”

“You can’t think about it that way,” Minghao said, determined to make Mingyu understand, “I know it can be hard with what we know now, but my mother explained it to me this way. The ancients were stuck on Earth. Most of them hardly traveled outside of their territories, lots of civilizations were divided. Now, we’re distant, but we all can travel through space whenever we want.”

Mingyu nodded.

“But, to the people on Earth, the night sky was all they had. They couldn’t see as far as we could, travel through the universe like we do. This was it,” Minghao finished, pulling out a book of astronomy that his mother had given him. He opened the book to the northern view of the sky from Earth and showed Mingyu.

“Okay, okay, I think I get it,” he said, “You tell stories with the stars. You paint pictures with them.”

“Bingo,” Minghao smiled, feeling somewhat satisfied, and really flustered at the poetic way that Mingyu described his hobby. He stopped for a moment to take stock of what he’d done. He’d opened up to Mingyu more in the last week than he’d ever been able to open up to anyone in his entire life. He should have been terrified.

But that’s just the thing -- he wasn’t.

-

The week that followed Minghao and Mingyu’s little excursion was much easier on Minghao than the previous week. His nerves were no longer fraught with tension and anxiety -- he quite literally felt as though a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. His posture was slumping much less and he walked the halls with a smile on his face most days, often with Mingyu or Soonyoung (or both of them) in tow as he came and went from classes. Not much had changed, save for the way he had found a friend when he needed it most, in none other than Kim Mingyu. He had taken a leap of faith, and for once he didn’t regret it. At least, he had yet to find a reason to, and that was good enough for now.

“Man, I’m so glad you guys made up,” Soonyoung beamed one fine morning, as he and Minghao lounged about the suite while Mingyu made them breakfast in their quaint kitchenette. Minghao was glad he’d grown closer to Mingyu, because it meant that he got to eat his delicious cooking, among other things.

“Me too,” Mingyu agreed, concentrating closely on the scrambled eggs he was beating with a whisk.

“Actually,” Soonyoung said, smug smile building and eyes glued to Minghao, refusing to leave his gaze, “You two are closer than ever.”

Minghao just sulked as he watched Soonyoung make smoochy faces at him, eyes still glued to the scowl that was consuming Minghao’s features. Mingyu was too busy fluffing his eggs, conscientious of every swipe of the spatula in the pan -- he couldn’t see Soonyoung’s mocking gestures and just huffed a happy sigh in agreement.

Minghao just sat, shoulders slumping a bit more than usual, in disbelief at the way that the tables had turned (or perhaps even flipped). Soonyoung, teasing him about his crush? Minghao had to find a way to get even.

“What’s your damage, Soonyoung? No lovers’ quarrels to mope about recently?”

“What?!” Soonyoung exclaimed with a shout, brow furrowing and lips pouting at Minghao’s dig.

Soonyoung was sulking now, and Minghao giggled as he reached out to give his friend a reassuring pat on the back. It was a touch that wasn’t unfamiliar, but the kind of touch that he was trying to get used to among friends.

From his chair on the far end of the dining table, Minghao just watched as Mingyu worked at his eggs with rapt attention, paying no mind to the nonsense that Soonyoung droned on about or the teasing going on just a few feet away. Minghao loved the way Mingyu looked when he concentrated, even if from this angle he could only glance the slight puff of Mingyu’s cheek. He followed the outline of his cheek to his jaw, to his ear, to find his favorite little beauty mark. Despite what little he could see, he could picture the look on Mingyu’s face as he scrambled the eggs, brow knitted into an attentive crinkle, cheeks just a bit puffed out and lips slightly pursed, eyes alert. He knew that look. His ears went hot as he realized that he was growing to remember every one of Mingyu’s facial expressions, committing each and every one to memory: his wry smile, his high-pitched chuckle-face, his beggar’s pout. He’d been watching him for a month, and only been close with him for a few weeks, but he felt like he knew Mingyu better than he’d ever known anyone.

Minghao snapped himself out of his daze just as Mingyu was serving his creation, his arm brushing past Minghao’s as he reached around him to shuffle some perfectly fluffy eggs onto his plate. Minghao felt a wave of goosebumps in the wake of the momentary brush of Mingyu’s arm on his. Soonyoung had recovered from Minghao’s chiding, evidently. He gawked on at the pair across the table from him, smiling the little smile that said he was trying to hold himself together, the tops of his two front teeth peeking out just slightly from behind his lips.

Things were simple, they were good. Minghao had never experienced anything like this in his life, just having a couple of friends (it would have been three had Wonwoo’s nocturnal coding sessions not caught up to him this week) to sit around and eat breakfast with. He felt at ease.

Soonyoung shoveled down his plate faster than the other two combined, and excused himself to his bedroom, presumably to dig through the mess in his corner of the room for books and crumpled up exam cheat sheets that had fallen under his bed. Minghao knew how much this would torment a very sleepy and cranky Wonwoo, but he chose not to stop or question him. He thought better than to interfere with nature’s course, however bizarre and counterproductive the pair’s mating rituals were.

This, of course, left the other pair alone to their devices. Minghao never had a hard time talking to Mingyu now that he’d broken down his initial ten story wall. Mingyu made himself remarkably easy to talk to, a good conversationalist, an attentive listener, and about as non-judgmental as they come. Minghao had begun to notice these things before, based on the way that Mingyu participated in class and talked to his other friends, but things were always different in practice. In fact, Minghao was beginning to think he enjoyed talking to Mingyu as much as he enjoyed looking at him.

“So,” Mingyu said, finally speaking first, “When are you gonna take me to your cool little observatory again?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Minghao said with a coy smile, inwardly cringing a bit at his sad attempt at being flirty. He was beginning to wonder what had come over him in the past week. It was almost as though the witch from his stories in the stars had cast a hex on him. Or, more realistic, perhaps, that Mingyu did.

“No, but really, you want to go again? I thought you were just curious.”

“I mean, I was…” Mingyu began, taking pause to take stock of his answer. “But now I’m even more curious. I want you to teach me more about this astrology stuff.”

“It’s astronomy, ” Minghao corrected him.

“Whatever, you know. Plus, I enjoyed spending time with you.”

There it was, that was the kicker. Minghao never quite got tired of hearing that. It now made him warm and fuzzy to think that anyone might want to spend time with him, as he found out the more he seemed to open up. But knowing that someone like Mingyu valued his company? He had yet to experience a feeling that exhilarating. He always found himself coming back for more.

It made it way fucking worse that Mingyu noticed the way that Minghao was pausing to think, and he must have taken his silence as hesitation, throwing a smoothly executed pout in Minghao’s direction.

“Pleeeaaase, Hao,” Mingyu begged, bottom lip tugging down and out in feigned desperation. Mingyu was inching closer and closer to Minghao until his cheek was pressed against his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Minghao gave in, his ears reddening yet again at the way Mingyu had no problem with resting a cheek on shoulder, the way that the boundaries between them seemed to have been almost entirely demolished over the course of just a week.

“Same time as last week, you big baby,” Minghao affectionately shoved Mingyu away, careful to be gentle and not too pushy. Mingyu obliged once his wish had been granted and just shot Minghao a dimply little grin.

Mingyu got up to clean the dishes and Minghao grabbed his bag and announced that he would be heading to his first class.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, Hao.”

Minghao’s heart leaped as he opened the door to the hall, just sending Mingyu a bashful smile over his shoulder as he looked back.

-

That Friday night, Minghao found himself in his favorite place, with his new favorite person yet again. He felt content. Minghao had brought a couple of mythology books with him so that Mingyu could read them as he worked on his stars and his stories. Mingyu had always expressed interest in the books that Minghao was reading, and he figured now would be a good time to lend him some.

“Do you think there are any ghosts in space?” Mingyu blurted out, after a long moment of quiet. He must have been intrigued by something he was reading in the book he held. Minghao had given him a book on ghosts and monsters in Chinese myth, which happened to be one of his favorites. Minghao’s mom brought him up on Chinese myths and constellations, as per her ancestry. Eventually, Minghao discovered the Greek interpretations of the stars in her vast library, which became his favorite, but he still had a place in his heart for the Chinese myths. It was in his blood.

      Minghao took pause from his scrawlings to ponder the question.

“I mean, like, on Earth they talked about ghosts, they had stories about them. But are there any out here? Has anyone encountered them? I’m sure people have died out here, but it’s so vast and expansive and we’re all so spread out… Like… I wonder if anyone’s ever found a ghost out here, you know?”

Minghao turned to face Mingyu with a kind smile, still thinking about his ramblings.

“Damn, was that a stupid question?” Mingyu grew shy after taking stock of Minghao’s quiet resignation to his rant.

“No, not at all,” Minghao reassured him. “I was just thinking about it. It made me think. I don’t know.”

“Not like you would know the answer, anyway. But you just seem to know a lot.”

“I really don’t,” Minghao retorted. “I mean, look at you, you get better marks than me.”

“Hao, we go to a trade school. And honestly, I’m kind of awful at this work. I guess I’m like, crafty, maybe? But I always break shit, at least you don’t do that. But you’re wise, you’re smart in a way that matters.”

Minghao just sighed at Mingyu’s compliment. He was flattered, sure, but no one had ever been able to appreciate this side of him save for his mother. His father had tried to rip it out of him by sending him here, and countless kids had teased him for it and told him to grow up. Minghao’s knowledge wasn’t exactly useful.

“Besides, I think you could do better in classes. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re smart. You just don’t try,” Mingyu finished.

“That’s because I didn’t come here by choice.” Minghao admitted this for the first time to anyone, even if he was sure that everyone who knew him at the academy could tell his heart wasn’t in it. His teachers, his classmates, even Soonyoung, who bumbled about equally as much or even more. He was sure they all thought he was a deadbeat.

“Oh,” Mingyu said, with a hint of regret and an apologetic tone. “I’m sorry, Hao. I didn’t know.”

There was silence for a moment that felt like it lasted decades, like Minghao had been shot into space and was flung back to his planet of origin, the galaxy that birthed the human race, like it would take him a million light years to come back to this spot.

Instead, though, he felt warmth on the tips of his fingers, consuming his knuckles and then the top of his hand. It was a slow flood, like all sense had been ripped away from him, his blood rushing to his head with thoughts of what his dad had done to him, and Mingyu’s hand on his was the warm water suddenly pulling him back to reality. Mingyu’s soft voice came next, shaky but with as much resolve as he could muster.

“I want you to know, Hao, that’s not your fault. It’s not fair what happened. No one should have to do anything they don’t want to.”

“But that’s the thing Mingyu, we do,” Minghao lamented. “All these advancements we’ve made, and things are still the same as they were on Earth. Everything is controlled by money. Hell, the only reason humans have stopped waging war on each other is because we can go wherever we want, as far away as we can from each other. All we did by coming out here was run away from our problems…”

Minghao trailed off, suddenly consumed by the thought that until now, that’s all he had been doing, just running away. He was just like everyone else, just isolating himself, refusing to let anyone in.

Mingyu, however, was the outlier, the change he needed. He was persistent not for his own gain, but because he could feel that Minghao needed a friend. Minghao realized this now, with the other boy’s hand gripping his softly, a barely-there touch that spoke volumes, more than Mingyu could ever say to him.

Mingyu could tell Minghao needed it, so he obliged when Minghao’s weight collapsed into his shoulder, their hands remaining steadfast, fingers slowly intertwining as Minghao gave in to his need to be cradled, his worried head finding purchase in the curve of Mingyu’s neck.

“It’s gonna be okay, Hao, you’ll be okay,” Mingyu said, almost a whisper, like he might have been reassuring himself, too, that Minghao would be okay.

“Do you think less of me because I don’t try at this, at our courses?” Minghao asked, unable to hide an audible sniffle from holding back his tears.

“Minghao, damn it, I would never. I’m your friend. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I like you just how you are. I promise,” Mingyu unlaced his fingers from Minghao’s, the loss of touch piercing a void in him, but it was swiftly filled by the feeling of Mingyu’s arm around his shoulders, pulling him in closer, letting him lean on him.

Minghao took a deep breath, realizing he could almost hear Mingyu’s heartbeat from the position he’d settled into when Mingyu pulled him in, ear close to his chest. Then, almost seemingly in time with the beat of his heart, he heard a sound more beautiful than he’d ever heard in his life, one that almost startled him. It took him a moment to realize the sound was coming from Mingyu’s lips, a soft melody.

When the night has come

And the land is dark

And the moon is the only light we’ll see

Minghao was utterly enamored with the voice that now escaped Mingyu’s lips, a quiet melody filling the space around them in the huge observatory, bouncing back from the beamed windows and making Minghao’s heart flutter. He wanted to sit up, to question Mingyu frantically. Where the hell did this come from? You fucking sing?!

But instead, for now, he just listened.

No, I won’t be afraid

No, I won’t be afraid

Just as long as you stand

Stand by me

“So, you… sing? ” Minghao blurted out, now better understanding the curiosity Mingyu felt whenever he saw Minghao scrawling in a journal or flicking through the pages of The Odyssey . Kim Mingyu, with slightly crooked teeth, hidden lisp, handsome face, clumsy limbs and all, had an angelic singing voice. Minghao had come to enjoy Mingyu’s voice. Mingyu looked handsome and masculine, but his voice, like so much else about him, had a soft, somewhat hushed lilt to it, and a gentle rasp to its tone. It wasn’t particularly deep, and Minghao loved the way it suited him so well, deep down.

But Mingyu’s singing voice? It managed to sound softer, gentler, packed with more sweetness and reassurance than Minghao had ever known possible.

“You said your mom used to watch the stars with you, right?”

Minghao sat up slightly, angling his head to better face Mingyu, nodding as he caught his eyes.

“My mom used to sing to me. The way that the stars are your comfort, whenever I feel lost, I find comfort in songs,” Mingyu said with a slight gulp, clearly nervous. “Ahh, you thought your star stuff was stupid, but this is just plain embarrassing.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Minghao wiped residual tears from his cheek as he wondered aloud, not sure if he meant to express the thought with words.

“You never asked,” Mingyu was still visibly embarrassed. Minghao chuckled lightly, reveling in the rare moment when Mingyu opened up to him. Sure, Mingyu wasn’t terribly closed off, but any little bit of himself that he revealed was something Minghao cherished. Minghao laid his head back to rest on Mingyu’s chest again, the other’s arm still wrapped loosely  around his frame.

“Keep singing. I like it,” Minghao said simply, but full of conviction. He wasn’t able to see Mingyu’s face when he spoke, but he could almost feel his smile in his posture, and hear it, the curl of his lips evident in his voice once he started up again.

If the sky that we look upon

Should crumble and fall

And the mountains should crumble

To the sea

I won’t cry, I won’t cry

No, I won’t shed a tear

Just as long as you stand

Stand by me

-

In the months that followed Minghao’s first rendezvous with Mingyu in the observatory, the two boys spent more and more time together. Their weeks were often bookended by more time in their favorite place (Minghao was sure that Mingyu was beginning to find solitude up there too). Mid-week was always filled with study sessions, especially when the pair decided that Soonyoung needed an intervention before he flunked out of the academy completely (which had become a monthly happening). In general, Minghao and Mingyu had almost become attached at the hip, and Minghao didn’t think much of it, not until Soonyoung brought it up.

“Where’s your boyfriend, Hao?” Soonyoung teased, walking into the suite to find Minghao studying before his afternoon classes. Minghao shot Soonyoung a dead stare as the smug boy sat down beside him, munching on a bag of chips.

“He’s not-” Minghao began, cutting himself off after realizing it wasn’t worth it to play into Soonyoung’s mocking. This kind of thing, surprisingly, didn’t bother Minghao much. As much as he feared being mocked, Soonyoung never intimidated him the way kids from back home always had. He knew that Soonyoung’s teasing came from a place of love. Besides, it was just how Soonyoung showed affection. Minghao always thought, I mean, look at how he treats Wonwoo.

“I’m kidding. I do think it’s nice though. You two spend a lot of time together. I think you might even talk to him more than me, now. My feelings are hurt,” Soonyoung whined with a hyperbolic pout. “Plus, I’ve been forced to spend more time in my room. You’ve exiled me to Wonwooland. I hope you’re happy.”

At this, Minghao just chuckled, but he continued to mount a defense against the attack on his character. The fact that Soonyoung could think (know) that Minghao was so smitten when he couldn’t even acknowledge or sort out his own feelings was ludicrous.

“It’s not that deep, Soon. He’s my roommate. It only makes sense,” Minghao rationalized.

“I guess so, but I don’t think it’s normal to gawk at your roommate the way you do.”

“You know what, fuck you! You’re one to talk,” Minghao went red in the face.

“What does that mean?” Soonyoung asked with an air of smug sarcasm. Minghao didn’t know how to respond, since his chides at Soonyoung were always met with indifferent confusion. Minghao suddenly felt hyper-aware of the way he’d become too wrapped up in his Mingyu feelings to keep tabs on his favorite love-hate relationship. He had to admit it was like watching a poorly-written drama, full of clichés.

“What do you think it means?” Soonyoung smirked, self-satisfied in a way Minghao had never seen before. What the hell is up with him? Since when does the sun shine out his ass, Minghao couldn’t help but think. But he just rolled his eyes and went back to his reading, Soonyoung eventually took a break from his munching to ask him for his annotations on the readings in his mechanics manuals.

As Minghao became engrossed in studying with Soonyoung, the strange way he was acting faded to the back of his mind. That was, until Wonwoo walked out of their room and into the suite.

“Heading to class?” Soonyoung asked like it was second nature.

“Yep, I’ll see you tonight,” Wonwoo said, nonchalant.

Minghao was almost too engrossed in his note-taking to look up, but when he did, he saw Wonwoo lean in quickly to plant a soft kiss on Soonyoung’s cheek, (His cheeks, which puffed up into a fluffy smile at that). It was tender and domestic and it kind of made Minghao want to gag a little, but he just sat, dumbfounded, until Wonwoo left the room. He remained in silence, gaping at Soonyoung with wide eyes as the boy basked in it, as if he was still keening into Wonwoo’s fleeted kiss.

“What the fuck was that?” Minghao asked, the silence breaking, tone somewhat sharp and rattled.

Soonyoung broke out of his puffy-cheeked trance and into a smug grin.

“Oh, Minghao,” he sighed in a sing-songy tone, “I can’t expect you to understand the subtle nuances of love and relationships, not when you’re attached at the hip with Mingyu and won’t do shit about it.”

Minghao was still adjusting to the change of letting someone like Mingyu in, of having someone genuine who really cared about him, about what he had to say. That was hard enough, but Soonyoung, trying to lecture him?

“Oh no,” Minghao crooned, a twisted smile on his face, determined to get caught up on whatever hot gossip lead to Soonyoung and Wonwoo doing that just now, when Minghao felt he was one step ahead of their weird dysfunctional bullshit the whole time.

“No way, Soonyoung, don’t you change the damn subject! What the hell happened?”

“If you want an answer that bad,” Soonyoung began, uncharacteristically serious compared to his usual demeanor, “I was crying about failing my classes and you weren’t there. I ran to knock on your door and I got no answer. You know how last semester, I would do that if I was up in the middle of the night freaking out, I’d come bug you about it?”

Minghao gulped slightly and nodded.

“Well, you weren’t there and I freaked out even more and I just ran back into my room, and Wonwoo had no choice but to try and talk me down. I mean, I know I would say to you that he’s an asshole and I hate him but I always knew deep down that wasn’t true. He would throw me a bone every so often and we’d talk and we’d manage to have a conversation without disagreeing or me storming out or something. But it was like, when you started spending a bunch of time with Mingyu, we were forced to interact. You know me, I can’t shut up, and I think he was understanding of the way that I missed having you around, you know, I just-”

“Okay, okay, you’re getting off track,” Minghao interrupted, though he was flattered to hear about how much Soonyoung missed him.

“I know, I know,” Soonyoung bashfully admitted, an occurrence that was far too common for him, “But, I don’t know. He was just there for me in a way he hadn’t been before. He asked if I was okay, like, genuinely. I told him to fuck off at first cause I guess I feared he was being patronizing, or that he would just lecture me about not trying harder or not being good enough because he’s so annoyingly brilliant, but he didn’t. He just listened. He didn’t judge.”

“I think I understand,” Minghao said, pondering the way that Mingyu had approached him, despite the harsh way he put him off. Minghao knew that he and Soonyoung had some things in common, but he didn’t really realize it until now. Suddenly, he felt filled to the brim with gratitude toward Mingyu for being persistent, for allowing him to open up. He wondered if he would have been able to sit here and have this conversation with Soonyoung were it not for Mingyu urging him to try harder at this. He wondered if he’d found a way to open up to Mingyu without Wonwoo’s advisory. And upon hearing what Soonyoung had shared, he wondered whether Soonyoung would have ever gotten close enough to Wonwoo if he had not had space from Minghao due to Mingyu’s presence. The universe, indeed, did work in mysterious ways.

“I guess it all just escalated. I fell asleep in his arms that night because I couldn’t calm down, so he just held me. I guess, that’s when I realized he didn’t hate me or think less of me. We talked a lot after that. We made out a little bit. It was confusing,” Soonyoung pondered this all as if he was hearing it himself for the first time, too, “but I think I’m better for it now, I think I like where I am, where we are. We still bicker, sure, that will never stop, but I like being with him.”

Minghao couldn’t contain the sweet smile that threatened to burst from his face, Soonyoung’s story was tooth-rottingly sweet, rivaling the greatest, most dysfunctional romances of myth.

“Aww,” Minghao let out with a chuckle, deciding it was his turn to taunt, “Is my Soonyoung all grown up?”

“Shut up!” Soonyoung pouted, “You can’t say shit to me until you gather up the courage to jump puppy-boy’s bones like I know you’ve been dying to for months.”

“At least I didn’t scrap with my roommate for a whole goddamn semester and then make out with him the second he cuddled me. I mean, when did you realize you had feelings?”

“Oh, god,” Soonyoung lamented, “I mean. I always thought he was hot. I think that’s why I got so fired up around him, but I never thought I had a chance with him so I refused to acknowledge the way I felt. And then it just kind of… happened all at once.”

Minghao sighed listening to Soonyoung’s tale. He wasn’t even sure where he stood with Mingyu, at least not in that way. Sure, they were amazing friends, and he didn’t want to mess that up. It wasn’t the same as the raw tension that Soonyoung seemed to experience with Wonwoo. Mingyu and Minghao were a gentle, soft song, with a crescendo that built up only to dissipate into a slowing staccato refrain. Their relationship was like water that flowed gently downstream, whereas Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s was a lot more like a crashing tide that pushed and pulled. Minghao just didn’t know what to do, how to initiate anything with Mingyu, or if he even wanted to. If he did, he risked losing someone that had proven thus far to be the most important friend he’d ever had.

Soonyoung could feel the way Minghao was sucked into his daze, so he spoke up.

“But seriously,” Soonyoung snapped him back to reality, “Mingyu follows you everywhere. There’s definitely something going on there. It’s not like you guys bicker like us, either, so I have no doubt it will happen.”

“What if I don’t want it to?” Minghao finally admitted aloud.

“You can resist the inevitable all you want,” Soonyoung said. Minghao was always surprised by how poignant his words sounded when he chose to be serious. “But sometimes things just happen, whether you mean for them to or not, and you have to deal with the rest later.”

Minghao thought deeply about Soonyoung’s words that night as he laid awake. He would soon enough come to find how right Soonyoung really was.

-

In the weeks following his conversation with Soonyoung, Minghao kept the words of wisdom that he had received from him in the back of his mind. He also spent even more time with Mingyu. Finals were approaching, and Mingyu was hellbent on getting Minghao and Soonyoung in shape to do well, so he initiated many a study session. Mingyu would make them sandwiches for lunch almost every day and they would sit in the suite and study. Some days, Wonwoo would even come out of his cave to sit at the table with the other three and work on code, only to be interrupted by intermittent pecks on the cheek from Soonyoung.

It was strange at first, and it was still taking Minghao a long time to get used to it. Mingyu embraced Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s relationship with great naivety, and Minghao took it upon himself to explain to him why he was so unsettled during their (now almost nightly) pilgrimages to the observatory. He explained the pair’s tense and tumultuous history to Mingyu like he told any story, but this time it was one brought to life by the friends he’d made. Mingyu still insisted that Minghao had a knack for storytelling, even if Minghao knew he was embellishing some details and creating hyperbole out of a story that was still pretty insane at its core.

While Minghao told Mingyu stories, Mingyu spent more time singing at the other’s request. A song for a story, that seemed to be the transaction that took place most times in their relationship. Mingyu insisted that most of the songs that he sang were like, really old, or at least that’s what his mother always told him when she used to serenade him as a child. Mingyu said they were probably not as old as Minghao’s stars and the myths surrounding them, but definitely way older than the dawn of all the technology that humans enjoyed now. Mingyu sang a song he called Blue Moon, and Minghao looked it up when he got the chance to find the most famous version, by a woman from Earth named Billie Holiday, who Mingyu insisted did a much better job. The only woman better at singing than his mom, he said. Minghao decided he still preferred Mingyu’s version instead.

Minghao felt his creativity booming even more than it was when he was attempting to ignore Mingyu. He even decided to work on a long-form story for once. Usually, he created a bunch of characters and wrote tiny tales about them that went nowhere, really only caring about immortalizing them in the stars, but he sought to do more, and Mingyu encouraged him. One night, they sat in the observatory and Minghao explained the outline of his story to a very attentive and perky-eared Mingyu.

“So, it’s about a hero, ‘cause every story needs a good hero.”

“What’s the hero like?” Mingyu asked, his face alight with the glow of a child sitting by a campfire.

“He’s really awesome. He’s good-looking, of course, like the Greek heroes always were. He’s strong as hell, and a deft fighter, kind of comparable to the Monkey King,”

“Monkey!” Mingyu exclaimed, remembering the character from one of Minghao’s books, “I loved him.” Minghao beamed at Mingyu’s shared passion of his interests.

“This hero is a simple boy, though, as all great hero stories seem to start,” Minghao recounted this proudly. “He’s the underdog, he had to work hard to become a real hero. He’s kind of fumbly at first and breaks shit a lot.”

Mingyu shot Minghao a knowing smile, to which Minghao blushed furiously. He hadn’t meant to model the hero of his story after Mingyu, but it just kind of happened. Besides, he’d included characters based on his other friends as well (a boisterous sidekick with a heart of gold and a wise old hermit with supernatural abilities and loads of wisdom). Minghao pressed on in his telling, hoping that he wasn’t being too transparent about the way Mingyu had inspired him.

“But the biggest thing that sets him apart,” Minghao said, smiling, “is how kind he is. Every foe he faces, he still kills them with kindness, trying to help them rather than hurt them. He believes that everyone has good in them, and the center of his journey is him seeking that out. Sure, he still gets angry sometimes, and he still fumbles around, but his good nature is what makes him strong.”

After that, Mingyu was the one who was blushing.

“I love that,” Mingyu said, his happy gaze unrelenting and causing a very bashful Minghao to turn his head away in embarrassment and nerves.

Suddenly, though, they heard footsteps. Minghao could tell that the calm, safe atmosphere of their hideout was threatened. Mingyu opened his mouth to say something and Minghao pressed a finger to his lips, grabbing him by the hand and, quietly as possible, ordering him to grab their bags and books and run for cover.

Minghao knew there was a tiny supply closet in the far corner of the observatory, and that was their only hope of hiding and not being found. Otherwise, they were utterly trapped. Maybe it was another student coming up the stairs, wandering the halls aimlessly on a weekend, and ending up here, but he knew that was unlikely. He was sure it had to be an instructor or a member of the academy’s faculty, so he knew they had to hide, just in case, and quickly.

So they ran and hid, Minghao being careful to stay light on his feet and Mingyu being too large and clumsy to do so (though he made an admirable effort). Minghao dragged him by the hand into the supply closet and slid the door closed enough to hide them. The footsteps were getting closer but Mingyu still opened his mouth anyway.

“Hao, has this happened before?” he said in a whisper.

Minghao just pressed a finger to Mingyu’s lips with a “Shh,” but at this moment, Minghao became aware of how fucking close he and Mingyu were. Their bodies were almost flush against each other in the tiny closet, which was filled with brooms and a mop, and a couple of boxes of what Minghao noticed contained replacement telescope lenses. It was all dusty from not having been touched in what he could only assume was years. And amongst all that, was Mingyu, his beautiful face right in front of his own. Minghao tried his best to still his breathing, finger still on Mingyu’s lips prompting him to do the same, but of course, at this realization of their uncomfortable proximity, Minghao lowered his hand and managed to flush. Even though he knew they were in danger of being caught, all he could think about was how goddamn close he was to Mingyu right now. All he could do was hope that it was too dark for Mingyu to see his cheeks redden.

The footsteps drew nearer, finally becoming punctuated by an echo and a squeak of a door that let Minghao know that the owner of the feet had entered the auditorium. He tried his best not to breathe, not to move, and hoped with all his might that Mingyu’s long limbs wouldn’t jerk and give away their presence. He noticed the way Mingyu had started to shake in fear, and suddenly felt Mingyu’s hand take hold of his, his sweaty palms seeking comfort to quell his obvious fear. Minghao wasn’t sure if he feared getting caught, but he knew Mingyu sought to be a model student and would hate to have something on his record. Nevertheless, here they stood, holding hands, bodies unbearably close, stuck in a dusty supply closet, and Minghao was sure now that that distressed him much more than the prospect of getting caught. Still, he stayed put, knowing he couldn’t bear to leave such a frightened Mingyu alone.

The click-clack of the footsteps echoed throughout the observatory, and now Minghao noticed that they were more frequent. He could tell by the breaks in the sounds of the steps that there had to be two people here. Then, a voice came.

“Well, this is the observatory,” Minghao heard a scraggly old voice that he realized belonged to an instructor of his, Mister Han. “It’s old as the hills. No one uses it anymore. Some of the students escape here during the day, though. It’s really just a waste of space, I’m sure someday they’ll seal it off and send an extra-vehicular maintenance team to disassemble this whole wing. But I thought it might be worth seeing.”

“Very good, sir,” a second voice came. It sounded like the owner was younger, more eager. Minghao remembered that there was word about a new instructor coming onboard, presumably in the technician department. He thought he sounded like the type, maybe even Wonwoo-like, but more jubilant.

A moment of lingering silence followed until Minghao heard footsteps again, this time, hopefully, leading back to the stairs. As closely as he listened in, he was eager to get some healthy distance between him and the boy pressed up against him right now, Mingyu’s hand still shaking a bit in his, but noticeably calmer.

Minghao heard the door creak again, and the footsteps resumed, the echo disappearing and growing more distant. He heard Mister Han mutter a word or two about how things were at the school, but was thankful that his voice was growing distant. Still, he stayed stowed away in his spot next to Mingyu, just to be safe. Yeah, just to be safe , he told himself. Not because he was beginning to enjoy the familiar closeness, by any means.

He felt Mingyu breathe a sigh of relief as the two of them collectively realized that they seemed to have escaped their seemingly imminent discovery, the voices and footsteps almost completely inaudible.

“Jesus, Hao, that was fucking terrifying,” Mingyu finally breathed, and Minghao could still see the glistening tears that threatened to spill from his eyes in the dark supply closet. Mingyu’s hands moved to grip Minghao’s shoulders, as though he was trying to find stability and use Minghao as a crutch. For some reason, Minghao’s immediate reflex to the nervous boy gripping onto him for dear life was to grip back, so he pulled him into a tight hug. Just as Mingyu had cradled Minghao when he was distraught, Minghao pulled him in unthinkingly because he could tell that Mingyu needed it.

“You’re okay. We’re okay,” Minghao reassured him softly as he rubbed Mingyu’s back, the feeling of Mingyu keening into his touch absolutely enchanting. Mingyu buried his face into his shoulder and Minghao could feel the tears that dotted Mingyu’s cheeks staining his shirt.

The thing was, things were quickly derailed when Mingyu pulled himself back up to face Minghao. Minghao wiped more stray tears from Mingyu’s cheek and jaw, delicately, still unthinking, only feeling. Mingyu just looked deep into Minghao’s gentle gaze as Minghao moved soothing hands to his shoulders, a gentle caress that seemed all too normal, like it wasn’t unfamiliar or out of place at all. Mingyu noticed the way that Minghao’s eyes grazed his body, leaving his eyes to move down to his lips, perhaps even his chest, and back up again.

That must have been what did it, and Minghao was remiss in being lost in his feelings, lingering in the supply closet to gaze at Mingyu up close, like it was a chance he had to seize because it would never come. Because he was so deeply consumed by his feelings, it took him minutes to even realize that Mingyu’s lips were on his.

It was a gentle kiss that gave way to sweet touch, Mingyu’s hands moving to meet the little hairs that grew too long and curled up around Minghao’s neck, grazing Minghao’s jaw with featherlight touch. Minghao just melted into it, still dazed, still intoxicated by the boy in front of him, so unbearably close. Minghao’s hands just stayed on Mingyu’s shoulders until they softened down to his (unexpectedly muscular) arms, and then moved to lightly graze his back.

It was Mingyu who pulled away first, a dumbfounded look on his face, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of what he’d done or why he’d done it, and that was when Minghao snapped back to reality. He tried to remember Soonyoung’s advice, wracking his brain for the words. What did he say again? That he should just let it happen? That was it, maybe, but Minghao was completely overwhelmed. The look on Mingyu’s face felt vacant, or maybe Minghao was still too dazed to recognize any real emotion behind it. For some reason, Minghao couldn’t read him. He just saw a blank slate, where once there was an open book with pages he couldn’t wait to delve into.

Now, it was Minghao who was shaking.

“Minghao,” Mingyu said, sounding concerned, or vexed, fuck if Minghao really knew.

“I have to go,” Minghao said, as if he had lost control of his feet or the words that escaped his lips, and he barged out of the closet to race to the door, leaving Mingyu to knock down a bunch of brooms.

“Minghao, wait!” Mingyu yelled after him, suddenly realizing he should probably keep down and that he’d made a mess of the closet, but he didn’t care. Still, Mingyu just froze.

And that was how Minghao left him, stuck under the scrutiny of the stars.

-

The night of the ill-fated kiss, Minghao just returned to his room as stealthily as he could in his frazzled state, still in shock. He laid down in bed, still awake, waiting for any sign of his roommate’s return, but heard nothing until what felt like hours later. Even then, he just played like he was asleep. He had told himself that he would talk to Mingyu once he had recovered from the shock, but it lingered for uncomfortably long.

A week passed before either said anything to the other save for vacant questions about homework and nods or head-shakes whenever one asked the other if they were done in the bathroom. The pair of them seemed to be doing all that they could to avoid each other.

Minghao thought that Mingyu might have decided to give him some much-needed space, which he appreciated silently. But Minghao’s thoughts spiraled out of control, ever the worry-wart. Maybe Minghao had just ruined his only chance at being with Mingyu by leaving him in the dust the second he showed him even the slightest physical romantic affection. Maybe he had ruined their friendship by running off and refusing to talk about what had happened. Minghao had felt like he couldn’t do anything right before, like he would find a way to ruin things somehow, but now he felt sure of it.

Still, Minghao wasn’t sure that he wanted to be with Mingyu. He knew that he needed to stay friends with him, that he couldn’t bear to lose him completely, but he needed time to think. So, despite his doubts about Mingyu’s avoidance of him, he took the space that he was given and used the time to think as best he could, though he still felt like he was avoiding confronting his thoughts the way that he had refused to confront his feelings for so long.

Some nights, Minghao snuck into Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s room to sleep on their floor. Even the pair didn’t pry or ask, and they just gave him space as well. They seemed to have been made aware, either by the thick air that had come over their suite in the last week or perhaps by Mingyu himself, that something had happened.

Minghao knew it was only a matter of time before someone spoke up, though, and of course, it was the most loquacious one of them all.

“Minghao, I’m worried,” Soonyoung admitted one morning, when Minghao had woken up in his room again. Wonwoo had pulled an all-nighter, clacking away at his computer, probably working on something for finals.

“I think Mingyu’s really upset. Actually, I know so. He told me,” Soonyoung said, his voice sounding weak. “What are you gonna do?”

Minghao’s sounded weaker when he finally spoke.

“I don’t know. I need time. I need to think,” Minghao said.

“But, are you thinking? Do you want to talk?” Soonyoung’s voice grew more stern. “Please don’t tell me you’re avoiding this. You owe it to Mingyu to give him an answer, even if it’s just that you need more space or time.”

“He’s right, Minghao, for once,” Wonwoo said, eyes not leaving the glow of his computer screen that flickered in his corner of the room.

“Thanks, babe,” Soonyoung beamed just a bit, not to detract from the severity of the conversation he was trying to start. Both of them had to know that approaching Minghao about this would be no easy feat. It was as though, after the events of that night, Minghao had retreated back into his own ways, like he’d been scared back into his shell like a defenseless turtle.

Wonwoo closed his laptop, which indicated that he meant business. He pushed his glasses up further, straightening them on his nose and turned to face Minghao.

“I mean, don’t take this the wrong way,” Wonwoo began, “I know that you needing space is different from you falling back into your old habits, but I think there’s something you’ve been refusing to acknowledge all along. Actually, that’s the root of the problem. Even if you fixed things with Mingyu before, you still refused to acknowledge the thoughts and feelings that led you to this. You’re just running from your feelings.”

Minghao was still in his place on the floor, wrapped up in the blanket he’d dragged with him from his bed last night, and he buried his face deeper, not wanting to hear a lecture from the old hermit at a time like this.

“Maybe you aren’t ready for this, maybe you are, but we both know you feel something for Mingyu, at the very least. We’ve seen it, Minghao, but we know you don’t want to lose your friendship with him, so you need to do something about it.”

“I’m just afraid,” Minghao said, voice weak and shattered.

“What are you so afraid of?” Soonyoung asked.

“I don’t fucking know!” Minghao snapped, his voice harsh. “I don’t know, I’m afraid of all of it! I’m afraid that I let someone in, that he knows me and all my faults better than anyone, that he’s accepted and understood things about me that I thought no one ever would. And after all that, he still kissed me? Does he have feelings for me, too? How can you find someone attractive when you see them like this, when you’ve seen them pathetic, rushing into your arms for reassurance? Can one of you answer that for me? Huh?”

The other two boys sat quiet. Soonyoung looked somewhat stunned while Wonwoo tried to remain calm.

“I mean, you live with Mingyu, Hao. You’ve seen his flaws, and don’t you still have feelings?” Wonwoo asked. “You’re only saying this because it’s you, because you’re not used to someone looking at you like this.”

“I just,” Minghao was feeling the sting of his own words, like a gunshot that recoiled straight through his arm and back to him, and he began to feel shame, guilt, his defenses weakening. This was when he really began to break down, crying. “I know you guys can look at me, at us, objectively, and think everything is going fine, but what if I fuck it up? What if I talk to him, he’s understanding, we still remain friends, and I fuck that up? What if we do get involved, but I ruin that?”

Minghao was shaking, crying like a child. Soonyoung made his way onto the floor to try and get closer to his friend, testing the waters and treading lightly. Minghao was somewhat used to physical affection from Soonyoung by now. It comforted him, even, just in a friendly manner. Soonyoung sat beside him and kept a hand on his arm.

“You won’t know until you try, Minghao,” Soonyoung spoke calmly as his hand trailed Minghao’s shoulder, up and down, a gentle rub. “And in my eyes, the only way you’re sure to mess this up is if you don’t do anything, if you avoid and ignore Mingyu until things are beyond repair.”

Minghao had yelled, he had cried, he had gone through absolutely every possible emotion known to man in the course of one week, but now he felt clarity. As he sat there, Soonyoung’s hand on his arm and Wonwoo’s gentle nodding nudging him further, he knew they were both right.

That’s when Minghao resolved to speak to Mingyu about this, and he seized the moment before him with the rare lucidity it brought him.

“Mingyu,” Minghao said, walking back into their room that morning, “can we talk?”

-

Minghao and Mingyu had a long talk that morning, in which Mingyu launched straight into an apology about how it was his fault for assuming, for kissing Minghao without asking in the heat of the moment. Minghao reassured him that he had done nothing wrong, that he himself was consumed by the moment as well (and Mingyu didn’t protest, perhaps because he couldn’t get the way that Minghao kissed back with such fervor out of his damn head).

“Hao, I just, I’m sorry. I know it took two of us, but I should have been more careful,” Mingyu’s shoulders slumped in a way that looked entirely new, so different from his reactions to his clumsy fumbles, much more severe at that, “Because of this, I just want you to tell me how you feel, and what you want. We should have talked about this before any of this happened, and that’s both of our fault.”

Minghao just nodded in agreement.

“But Minghao, I swear to every god the human race has ever created, you will always be my friend, no matter what your answer is. I need you to know that.”

Minghao teared up a bit, happy tears, which Mingyu it seemed that Mingyu thought about wiping, but perhaps thought better of it to preserve whatever boundaries Minghao decided that he needed.

“Mingyu, you’re my best friend. The best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t want that to change, I don’t want to ruin it. So, I think I just need time. That’s all I want. Time, and some space,” Minghao was afraid his answer would be too vague, but he felt as though Mingyu and he had become attached in a way that was preternatural. He wanted to talk to Mingyu about his feelings, which both of them knew were there (and now, he had been made aware of Mingyu’s feelings in the most physical manner possible) but Minghao just wasn’t ready. He knew that if Mingyu could just give him time to adjust, he would find a way to talk about it someday.

“I’m fine with that,” Mingyu said, puppy smile, his shoulders perking up,

“So, for now, we’re friends?”

“Friends, for sure,” Minghao nodded, and Mingyu smiled. The pair felt the bad blood drain from their veins, the air around them thinning in one fell swoop.

Of course, it wouldn’t be so easy, though. It took time for things to get back to normal for both of them. Minghao preferred to think of it as a new normal, instead, embracing the gradual change that flooded in like water, as though a dam had broken and a river was overflowing, but it wasn’t bad. It just took some adjusting.

Minghao and Mingyu spent less time together, or alone together, at least. They spent a ton of time with their suitemates from across the hall. They studied together, as always. The foursome helped each other through an onslaught of final exams, each member of the group beginning to find his footing, however begrudgingly, in their work or trade (even Soonyoung was beginning to focus better). Mingyu cooked them meals. Soonyoung made them play ridiculous card or board games that he made up on the spot in a desperate attempt to procrastinate on his school work. Wonwoo always played, despite the way he scoffed at Soonyoung’s negligence. The pair always seemed to find a balance, though, the growingly transactional nature of their relationship proving quite useful. Wonwoo just always made sure that he only agreed to play Soonyoung’s games or spend time with him as long as he dedicated equal amounts of time to studying or schoolwork, which seemed to do the trick.

Minghao enjoyed teasing Soonyoung and Wonwoo every time they kissed, held hands or acted gross, Mingyu always letting out a high pitched laugh at his jokes. Eventually, though, that got old too.

Minghao still plotted the stars. He still wrote his stories, that much didn’t change. It took a long while for him to invite Mingyu back to the observatory with him, and Mingyu didn’t mope or protest. He gave Minghao the space he needed just as he had asked. Minghao even invited Soonyoung up to the observatory with him. Unfortunately, that proved to be a huge mistake, not because he feared letting Soonyoung know about his hobby, but because Soonyoung lacked the reserve to keep quiet long enough to sneak through the halls and almost got them caught.

He never wanted to do that again, but he still invited all of his friends, Soonyoung and Wonwoo included, to the observatory during safe and legal school hours to celebrate the fact that he had plotted the entirety of the sky visible from the Academy’s tiny observatory. This was a milestone for Minghao, not only because he had now shared his stars with all of his friends, but because he finally had the courage to come to the observatory during the day. He had wondered what he had always been so afraid of, as the observatory still seemed as vacant as ever. He began to make trips during the day more often, despite the way he reveled in the risk of sneaking around at night. Every so often, the occasional pair of students were also in the observatory studying, but they paid no mind to Minghao, and he paid no mind to them.

Wonwoo and Soonyoung appreciated the way that Minghao had let them in, Wonwoo seeing the merits in Minghao’s work with constellations right away, and Soonyoung taking quite a bit of explaining to begin to understand. Wonwoo shushed him as he asked question after question like a curious child.

Minghao took his space from Mingyu as an opportunity to learn more about his other friends, as well. He learned that Soonyoung only came to the academy because his dad had worked as a long time mechanic on one of the biggest stations in the Triangulum galaxy, and he was determined to become as good as him. Of course, Soonyoung had hit many roadblocks, but it hadn’t stopped him quite yet. Minghao learned that Wonwoo wanted to come to the academy to be as close to his family as possible, since he cherished them so much. He had made it into several prestigious schools that were light years away, but decided that all were too far away for him. Wonwoo was a humble boy, with simple values and aspirations, after all. Minghao couldn’t get over the way that Soonyoung and Wonwoo might have almost not ended up in the same space, and possibly may have never met. He figured that despite the fact that they each might have been better-suited somewhere else, that they both ended up here for a reason. Soonyoung and Wonwoo seemed to agree.

Of course, all of this time to think brought much change for Minghao, most of it positive. He began to overcome his anxiety bit by bit, and find that his fears were not entirely baseless, necessarily, but that if he put his trust in the right people he had little to worry about. Besides, he knew that if he had those people to lean on, he could survive anything else that life threw at him. He had finally found a gateway to accepting and being okay with himself, and had even begun to forgive his father for sending him here against his will. Yes, it still sucked, but he began to realize he wouldn’t be here had he not received that first push. He still knew that it was on him to open up to others and learn to accept himself, which his dad had never helped with.

Minghao knew that the universe just did as it did, and that sometimes the same things happened regardless of the paths heroes chose to take. He had learned that much in myth and in life, and from what Soonyoung had said to him what felt like so long ago.

Of course, with all of that, came new and exciting challenges, and among them was the prospect of his still-evident feelings for Mingyu. There was, however, one thing that remained as reliable as and consistent as clockwork, and that was Minghao’s love. As things settled into their new normal, Minghao began to work through his thoughts on the matter. But for once in his life, Minghao felt as though he knew exactly what he wanted.

-

Of course, when the time came, everyone was happy that final exams and evaluations were coming to an end for the year. No one could be more happy than Soonyoung, whose marks had risen from dreadful to mostly passing in the course of just a few months. He was quick to give credit to his best friends, and the most to his “stubborn dick of a boyfriend (though the pair were affectionate toward each other now, they never seemed to abandon the harsh pet names that marked the dawn of their tumultuous relationship) for always riding his ass.” Minghao gagged at the way that Soonyoung worded it, as Mingyu laughed and Wonwoo looked on, more smug than anyone knew he could look.

It was the time for end of the year celebrations, though Soonyoung and Wonwoo took their newfound free-time as an opportunity to spend way more time in their bedroom together (which Minghao would have rather not been a part of, anyway).

So, when Minghao walked in with the grades of his last exam in hand, noticing the empty suite, he just rushed into his room hoping to find a friendly face to share his happy news with. And he did.

“Mingyu!” Minghao barged through the doors, elated. He found Mingyu just laying on his bed, earphones in, probably blasting some old standard as a way of congratulating himself on making finals his bitch, in search of some much needed downtime.

“Hey, Hao, what’s up?” Mingyu took his earphones out, “Is that your last exam?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Minghao was uncharacteristically brimming with pride, and there was no one person that he was more excited to share his high marks with than his favorite try-hard teacher’s pet. He handed the paper off to him and watched Mingyu’s face break into a knowing grin.

“That’s awesome, Hao! I knew you could do it!” Mingyu stood up and reached out to smother Minghao in his embrace, and only then did Minghao realize how long it had been since they had hugged. He melted into Mingyu’s touch just the way he did the first time he was startled by his warmth, and just the way he had many times after. This felt different, though. This was a hug between friends that had reached common ground. Any fleeting touch he shared with Mingyu since their kiss and their resolve to move past it for the foreseeable future had been impaired by invisible bounds, raised, rightfully so that Minghao was able to work through his own feelings, unfettered.

Minghao only began to realize, now, the way that had been changing as of late. He realized all at once that he was in a headspace where he could accept himself, where he didn’t need validation from anyone else. Sure, the validation from Mingyu was very welcome, but it was just an added bonus. Minghao could take care of himself now, he had realized. He had come so far. When he made his next move, he did it knowing that he had found the all of the answers he needed.

As Mingyu pulled away, his hands lingered on Minghao’s shoulders, the same way they did in that dusty supply closet one night months earlier. Minghao brought a gentle hand to Mingyu’s cheek, and leaned in.

When Minghao pulled away from the soft, sweet peck, Mingyu looked floored, but Minghao couldn’t find a hint of doubt written on his face, and he wasn’t trying to. He realized that the way Mingyu looked in the closet that night was as much due to Minghao’s marred self-image and the way he seemed to self-sabotage as it was Mingyu’s frazzled reaction to his own unconscious actions.

Minghao thought about how he felt in that moment, and he could no reason to walk it back, no regret for his decision buried deep inside.

“Well,” Minghao said, smug, hand still grazing Mingyu’s face, “Now we’re even.”

“Minghao,” Mingyu’s hand absentmindedly trailed between Minghao’s nape and the crook in his neck, a puppy eyed, hopeful gaze glassed over by the threat of tears.“You mean…?”

“Yes, Mingyu,” Minghao brought his other hand up to hold the hand that Mingyu had trailed along his shoulder, “I’ve had enough time. I’ve thought enough, and my answer is yes.”

“Really?” Mingyu asked, eyes sparkling with tears that threatened to pour down his soft cheeks. Minghao wiped them away, “So, more than friends?”

“Definitely,” Minghao confirmed, his softly dimpled smile and a sweet nod as he moved in to lean his forehead on Mingyu’s. “More than friends, for sure.”

They kissed for what felt like an eternity, like both of them were desperate to make up for lost time. Of course, time spent thinking and feeling was time well spent, but time spent kissing was to be cherished. So they did.

Somehow, Minghao ended up in Mingyu’s tiny bed as the larger boy held him, a mess of their long limbs threatening to spill off the bed, tangled in soft sheets. It reminded Minghao of the way Mingyu first cradled him in their observatory, under the stars. He had accomplished his goal of plotting the stars within reach of this place. Right now, all he sought were the glittery flashes in Mingyu’s eyes as they gazed into his own, and the dots of beauty that ran along his cheek and down his neck, the newest constellations that Minghao had discovered.

Minghao realized that one thing was missing, though.

“Mingyu,” Minghao piped up, when Mingyu was almost half-asleep.

“Yeah?” a raspy sleepy voice came from the boy who held him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard you sing.”

Mingyu obliged, and Minghao drifted off into his slumber, serenaded by Mingyu’s dreamy melody.

Sometimes I wonder why I spend

The lonely nights dreaming of a song

The melody haunts my reverie

And I am once again with you

When our love was new

And each kiss an inspiration

Ah but that was long ago

Now my consolation is in the stardust of a song

Beside the garden wall when stars are bright

You are in my arms

The nightingale tells his fairy tale

Of paradise where roses grew

Though I dream in vain

In my heart it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love's refrain