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“Xiaojun,” Yangyang whined, “explain it to me again!”

The older heaved a sigh, not lifting his eyes from the papers spread out over the library desk. “I already did, brat,” he muttered, scratching over his work and flipping his paper over to try again.

Across from him, Yangyang slumped over the table’s surface, resting his head in the crook of his elbow and kicked his feet under the table like a pettulant child. His toe made sharp contact with Xiaojun’s shin and he smirked with a sense of satisfaction at the irritated glare that was shot his way.

“Come on,” he whined again, continuing to blindly kick his legs under the table. “You should know by now how much I hate biology!”

“I do but that’s not my problem,” he quipped, sliding his chair back to try and get out of reach of Yangyang’s relentless assaults. He turned back to his papers, immersing himself in the variables and equations that continued to muddle his mind. He blamed Yangyang for his current inability to focus and tried harder to block him out.

“Junjunnnn,”Yangyang whimpered pathetically, throwing his arm over the table to try and get Xiaojun’s attention again. His hand smacked down on the front of one of Xiaojun’s papers and he whisked it out from under his nose, hugging it to his chest. “Dejunnnn…”

The irritation was visible in the tight frown and smolder in the older’s eyes which did nothing but thrill Yangyang. Now he had his attention for sure.

“Give it back, and don’t call me that.”

“Just explain it to me again and you can have this back,” he bargained, daintily pinching the thin, marked-up sheet of notes with his thumb and forefinger while waving it ever so tauntingly with the biggest smirk.

Xiaojun’s jaw visibly clenched and unclenched with his hand that gripped his pencil, white knuckled.

“Just give it back,” he demanded, darting a hand out to try and snag it.

But Yangyang had seen it coming a mile away and was out of Xiaojun’s (more limited) reach before he’d finished talking.

“Just explain it to me again,” he repeated, genuinely amused by Xiaojun’s growing exasperation.

He loved nothing more than riling the older up. It had always been that way for him around Xiaojun since they’d gotten close. Some quality about the older just brought out this really annoying, vexing side of him.

Deep breaths, he reminded himself. Xiaojun audibly took a deep breath and sat back in his seat, turning back to his work without another word. Yangyang frowned. That wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

He slumped back onto the table, flicking his pencil over his thumb and scribbling mindlessly over his notes and the practice worksheet he’d created for himself. He had listed each of the topics and a short summary of their concepts all the way down the paper on both sides. He had intended to just go through it and thoroughly review everything he was insecure about but he hadn’t made it past the second topic.

He began sighing loudly, partially out of boredom but also out of exhaustion. Midterms were the real vibe killer if you asked him. Not even his friend’s friend, Taeil, who told god awful jokes, could kill the mood faster than the mention of midterms or finals. He’d been down all week, trying to pull himself together and actually get work done so he didn’t fail and consequently, he hadn’t seen most of his friends for that week.

Xiaojun gritted his teeth at the sound of Yangyang letting out the fifth long, loud sigh in the last minute. He slammed down his pencil and stood abruptly, nearly knocking his chair over backwards and gathered up his papers, hastily tapping their edges against the table before he shoved them back into his bag.

Yangyang looked up with round eyes and a slight pout resting on his lips. Xiaojun could feel his stomach twisting – not in an unpleasant way, just in a nervous, giddy sort of way. But he shoved the feeling to the back of his mind.

“Where are you going?” Yangyang asked, as if he was on the verge of tears at the thought of Xiaojun leaving him all alone to study. Xiaojun had to look away. God, who gave him the power of puppy eyes? Those eyes alone, without the overflowing emotion, did things to him, and with the added emotion he feared he’d combust.

Xiaojun didn’t answer and instead rounded the table, coming up behind Yangyang. He snatched up his sheet of notes before Yangyang could react and walked back around, shoving it with his other papers.

“Hey, don’t leave me alone!” Yangyang protested when his friend hoisted his bag up on his shoulder.

But he just rolled his eyes and walked back around, pulling up a chair next to the younger and plunked down.

“Carbon, which you know, is branded as the element of life. All living things are made up of carbon and that’s because it’s very versatile which is due to its ability to form up to four bonds with other elements, specifically covalent bonds which are the strongest type,” Xiaojun began, pushing aside Yangyang’s scattered notes to get to his textbook.

Yangyang sat dumbfounded, unable to completely comprehend what was happening until Xiaojun was looking at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.

“Well? Did you even hear what I just asked you?”

Yangyang’s adam’s apple bobbed and he shook his head, scrambling to scribble down the few words he’d caught onto.

“What is the difference between a covalent and an ionic bond?”

His mind blanked. “Uh…”

Xiaojun suppressed a sigh despite the laughter tickling his chest. “I just talked about carbon and covalent bonds, which if you look at your periodic table,” he planted his finger on the square of carbon in the periodic table he’d flipped the book to, “carbon is a nonmetal. I basically gave you the answer, are you paying attention?”

Yangyang nodded rapidly, scribbling down strings words that probably wouldn’t make sense later.

“So what’s the difference then?”

He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. “Ionic is, uh, not nonmetals?”

Xiaojun blinked. “Sure, ‘not nonmetals,’ let’s go with that. Why is it ‘not nonmetals’ though?”

“Uhh…”

As much as he was baffled by his friend’s slowness, he felt good knowing Yangyang was at least studying (sort of). “An ionic bond is the unequal share of valence electrons between two elements, okay?”

“Sure…” he muttered back, pencil scratching quickly against his paper.

“So tell me what a covalent bond is.”

By the blank look on Yangyang’s face, Xiaojun would’ve guessed it had all been in vain until a lightbulb seemed to blink to life in his head. “Equal… share of electrons…? Maybe?”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. Even though it didn’t look like Yangyang was paying attention, he was understanding enough, which was all he needed.

“Right, so you should just go back over the basics of atoms and elements and such. Now, it says on your list that you need to review functional groups. So if we flip to page…”

Xiaojun continued with prepping Yangyang for his exams, never once lashing out or losing his patience with the slower freshman and always encouraging Yangyang to process and fully understand the concepts instead of simply writing whatever he said.

It was late when they left the library, nearly nine o’clock, but Yangyang was enthusiastically listing the steps of mitosis and meiosis with little help from Xiaojun who was very proud of his friend, though he never said so.

“Take care, Junjun gē," Yangyang grinned as they parted ways to their respective homes.

“See you later, Yangyang dì.”

“Hey, have you seen Yangyang lately?”

Xiaojun plucked his airpods from his ears, earning a disgusted gag from Renjun who was leaning over his table in front of him.

“If you don’t burn those yourself, consider the job done,” Renjun added, pointing straight at the wireless monstrosities in his friend’s fingers.

Xiaojun rolled his eyes and popped the small devices back in their case, snapping the lid loudly for show. The (debatably) good natured glare he earned from Renjun was worth it and he took a deep breath, stretching his stiff back.

“I just saw him two nights ago when we studied in the library,” he replied, rolling his sore shoulders and reaching up to massage the back of his neck. “And he texted me this morning wishing me good luck on my early exam today,” he finished, relaxing back in his chair with a sigh. “Why?”

Renjun narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. “He’s been weird, weirder than normal, for the past two days,” he stated warily. “And he asked us not to mention it to you when Hendery pointed out that he seemed much more jittery lately, so naturally I came to mention it to you. Any ideas?”

His face twisted with confusion. “Uh… no? He was fine two nights ago, a bit more annoying than usual but fine otherwise. I think.”

Renjun gave a noncommittal hum, straightening his back and getting out of Xiaojun’s face. “Right then… Well, this was nice, thanks for nothing,” he huffed, reaching his hand over the table to, what he called, “affectionately” flick Xiaojun on the forehead in farewell. “You should come by more often after exams. Sicheng misses, and I quote, ‘the only sane person amongst us all,’ but good luck!”

Renjun’s small, boyish figure - honestly Xiaojun wasn’t really one to talk - was swallowed by the stream of bigger students circulating through the common area. Xiaojun rubbed at the small, stinging area on his forehead and shook his head, brushing the thoughts from his mind. He plugged back in, tuning out the noise and turned back to his papers, picking up where he’d left off.

It wasn’t more than three hours later, close to four o’clock, when Xiaojun ran into Yangyang himself next to the lush field of the courtyard.

“Yangyang,” he called cheerfully from the other end of the field, waving his arm to get the younger’s attention.

The boy looked up, stopped in his tracks and swiveled his head around to scan for Xiaojun who waved his arm harder and began to approach the younger.

Whatever it was that had shifted in Yangyang’s face had vanished by the time he’d gotten close enough to fully take in the younger’s details but he dismissed it.

“Renjun was looking for you I think,” he said, halting right in front of the younger. He had to tilt his head up slightly to look him in the eye but among his friends, he was the shortest so it didn’t bother him anymore. Except Yangyang seemed different. Anxious, almost.

“Oh, today?”

“Yeah, he came by to talk to me this afternoon, said you were acting weird. Well, weirder than normal,” he stated, shifting on his feet.

“God, it would be Renjun,” he sighed, letting his eyes close just for a second. “I’ve, uh, I’ve just been really stressed, y’know?”

Xiaojun had only known Yangyang for a little over two months, maybe three, but the boy had always been so easy to read. It was obvious that it wasn’t the truth, at least not the whole truth, but he trusted the younger to tell him if he needed to.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said instead, “you’re a good student and I’m sure you’ll do well. When’s your first exam?”

“One… maybe two days from now?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Dude, how do you not know?”

The younger shrugged, looking away. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, I guess,” he mumbled. “I’ll figure it out though, don’t worry,” he added with a small smile.

Xiaojun frowned. “Do you want my help? I wouldn’t mind helping you, I know that exams the first time around can be challenging and daunting but if you need-”

“Oh no, no it’s fine, Xiaojun, don’t worry about me,” he rushed, shaking his head. “Just do well on your own exams. I’ll see you later!” He turned on his heel, breezing past Xiaojun and continued on his way, shoulders set back like always but stiffer than normal.

He sighed quietly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Yangyang was indeed acting a little off but it must’ve been because of exams.

The first time he’d ever met Yangyang had been through Hendery, one of his closest friends since freshman year.

He’d been over at Hendery’s apartment and was busy cleaning up after the slob when a dull knock cracked against the door. It wasn’t uncommon for Xiaojun to invite himself over to Hendery’s just to help keep his friend organized and on his feet, though it didn’t usually happen three days into the new school year. Still, he was there for him and they’d return to their schedule once everything had settled down a bit.

“Junjun, get it for me,” his friend had shouted from the small living room, “it’s my friend.”

Xiaojun had been pissed to say the least, seeing as he was being productive whereas the other was sprawled over the couch, mindlessly flicking through the tv channels. Then again, Hendery got a pass for all the shit he was trying to handle.

“Lazy ass,” he muttered, strolling from the equally tiny kitchen to get the door.

He popped it open and nearly fell over backwards at the loud screeching in shrill Mandarin that Hendery’s new guest emitted, who walked straight through Xiaojun as if he wasn’t there.

“HENDERY OH MY GOD GUESS WHAT!! THE MOST HANDSOME HUNK I’VE EVER SEEN SAID ‘HI’ TO ME!!!”

He’d slapped his hands over his ears, cringing at the boy’s high pitched voice and kicked the door shut, following the hyperactive bundle of bubbling energy.

“Congratulations," was all Hendery offered, sitting up and letting the new boy plunk down on the couch next to him.

“Hendery, I think my heart just exploded,” he giggled, actually giggled, clinging to the other boy’s arm.

Xiaojun had to blink multiple times and do a double take. Who was this kid and why was he here? And why was he so goddamn loud?

He cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight to rest evenly on both legs. “Hendery, who’s this?”

His friend jumped as if he’d completely forgotten about Xiaojun’s presence. “Oh, uh, this Yangyang, one of my family friends,” he said, stretching and breathing loudly.

He wasn’t impressed to say the least. “Yangyang, huh? Haven’t seen you around at all before,” he commented, uncrossing his arms and shoving his clammy hands into his sweatpants pockets. He’d locked gazes with the new kid and his chest had tightened ever so slightly. The kid’s eyes were so entrancing it was sparking a sort of nervousness in him.

“Oh, I’m a freshman so it would make sense that you didn't know who I am,” he babbled happily. “But yeah, I’m Yangyang!”

The energy rolling off the kid in nauseating waves made Xiaojun’s head spin. But at the same time, he could vaguely remember when he was an eager freshman, ready to take on the world. He chuckled to himself and easily wrote the new boy off as every other freshman, motivated to conquer the universe in the first week and ready to drop out by the second. Eventually the kid’s energy would subside, right?

“Yeah, cool,” he said, heading back into the kitchen to resume trying to put together something for him and Hendery, and now this new kid, to eat.

“Wait,” the kid exclaimed followed by a loud thud. Xiaojun turned his head in time to see the boy clamber to his feet and stumble through the tiny apartment to get to Xiaojun. He stood, way too close for Xiaojun’s liking, and grinned down at him.

“I didn’t get your name,” he chirped, unperturbed by his undignified adventure just to cross the room. If Xiaojun had fallen from the couch in front of a stranger, he would’ve hidden his face for days to follow and avoided the person at all costs. Apparently this kid lacked the inhibitions Xiaojun dragged with himself everywhere. And maybe that made him a little envious.

“Xiaojun,” he replied dismissively.

“Xiaojun?” Yangyang gasped loudly, chasing after the shorter who was trying to cook while also trying to (unsuccessfully) avoid him. “Interesting name! Wait, are you Chinese?”

“Yup,” he clipped, flinging open the top cabinet above the sink. He had to push himself up on his toes and stretch his arm more than he would’ve liked to, and after a few seconds of uselessly groping, Yangyang pressed himself against Xiaojun, pushing him out of the way.

“I’ll help,” he offered, reaching into the cupboard much more easily than Xiaojun had done. He pulled his hand out and shoved three packs of chicken flavored Top Ramen into the shorter’s chest. “Did you want these?”

He nodded stiffly and went to the sink, filling the pot he’d just cleaned with water.

“So you, uh, you understood what I said when I came in?” Yangyang asked with evidently forced nonchalance.

“Yeah, something like that,” he muttered. Sure, he’d understood the words but he hadn’t the faintest idea of what exactly it was he’d been talking about.

“Uh, and, uh, that- is that okay with you…?”

Xiaojun had to look up to make sure he was still talking to the same kid. His voice had shrunk and his energy had lagged noticeably. But his ever twinkling eyes were still filled with joy and a hopefulness that made his heart skip a beat.

Truthfully, he didn’t remember a word Yangyang had said. “Yeah, sure, it’s whatever,” he shrugged, which greatly satisfied the other who grinned from ear to ear.

“O-oh, okay!” He bounced over to where Xiaojun had put the pot of water on to boil. “Wait, why are you boiling it? You know you can microwave it, right?”

“Yes, I do,” he replied, pushing past the younger boy to pull bowls from another cabinete, “but Hendery gave his microwave to Lucas who claimed that he didn’t own one, so now he’s the one left without a microwave,” he explained curtly, pointing at the empty space perfectly fit for nestling a microwave between the dish rack and coffeepot.

“Oh, I know Lucas!” He gasped loudly. “Hendery!” he called to the other, bounding out of the kitchen and diving onto the couch where he began prattle and ask for confirmation on the Lucas he thought was the Lucas that Xiaojun had mentioned.

Just from the five minutes he’d spent in the same room with Yangyang and his very limited interactions with Lucas through Hendery’s FaceTime calls with the other, he already knew that he and Lucas would be good friends. Both loud as hell, happy and hyper. He also knew that he never wanted to be stuck in a room with both of them at the same time, ever.

Yangyang might’ve even been louder than Lucas, which was obnoxious. Yet the fluttery feeling in his twisting stomach was undeniable.

Still, he couldn’t dwell on any thoughts that threatened to surface in the churning waters of his mind. He needed to be getting ahead on his studies.

The ramen finished cooking without any more disturbances from Yangyang and he dumped in the disgusting, yet addictive,  mustard colored flavoring, stirring each of the three bowls quickly and stabbed chopsticks through the clumpy, plastic-like noodles.

“Bon appétit.” He handed Yangyang and Hendery a bowl each, getting nothing but a grunt drowned out by Yangyang’s loud slurping.

He scarfed down his own share, significantly smaller than the others’, though he didn’t let them see, and quickly washed and dried his bowl. “I’m off, got things to do,” he announced, slipping on his jacket and stepping into his shoes.

Hendery mumbled a goodbye through a mouthful of food and Yangyang waved with exuberance as Xiaojun parted.

He’d never have guessed in that day that he’d meet Yangyang again, let alone become friends with the kid. And now, hunched over his notes and study guide, he couldn’t seem to shake the thought of the boy from his mind.

As stressful as exams are, the feeling after getting one done and out of the way could top nearly every other feeling. Just being able to breath easily and not have calculus occupying every space in his mind was enough for Xiaojun to decide to celebrate somehow. And Kun gave him the perfect invitation to do so.

It had been a three days since his run-in with Yangyang and the boy hadn’t left his mind since. It bothered him.

In his pocket, his phone began vomiting pings and buzzes from notifications he’d had silenced during his exam. Scrolling quickly through them he had one missed call from Kun, a senior whom he respected as the other sane member (alongside Sicheng) of their friend group, two missed calls from Lucas, the loudest alongside Yangyang of their friend group, and about thirty messages from all of his friends combined.

Jesus, what the fuck happened? I was gone for like an hour, he asked himself, unlocking his phone and calling back Kun first.

“Xiaojun, where have you been?” Kun’s voice filtered through his airpods, sounding concerned.

“Uh, I had an exam,” he said though it sounded more like a question. “Where did you think I was?”

“Well, Yangyang texted something strange to Hendery today when he was invited to my place for dinner and it was just really weird because I could’ve sworn you two were good friends and he talked about you a lot when-”

“Woah, slow down there,” he said, trying to digest Kun’s frantic words. “What about Yangyang?”

“He - Ten you can’t put metal in the- TEN!!”

“Kun?”

“Shit, my microwave just exploded or something, I need to go but read the texts I sent you and call me back when you’re done.”

His airpods beeped when Kun hung up. What had Yangyang said about him? Had he done something recently that Yangyang would’ve hated him for?

His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he went into his messages and opened his conversation with Kun, slapped in the face with screenshots and lots of question marks with exclamation points sent by the older.

Mama Bear: Hi! Ten and I are cooking dinner for everyone if you’re interested! Just swing by around five!

Mama Bear: [image]
Mama Bear: ???? Um?????
Mama Bear: Yangyang sent this to me, don’t tell him I sent you a screenshot though
Mama Bear: I don’t know what it means but I don’t like how it looks, what did you do???
Mama Bear: Are you two fighting??
Mama Bear: Where are you??
Mama Bear: Xiaojun??

He tapped on the screenshot, making his way over to a bench next to the sidewalk. The image attached was from Hendery’s private conversation with Yangyang.

yangyang kun and ten r making lunch do u wanna head over w me soon

i saw a yangle: today?

ye

i saw a yangle: who’s gonna be there?

kun

i saw a yangle: no shit shercock who else
i saw a yangle: **sherlock
i saw a yangle: ignore that

ten

i saw a yangle: is that all?

maybe lucas xiaojun and renjun idk

i saw a yangle: xiaojun?

ye probs

i saw a yangle: oh i’m busy today

oh k
what r u doing?

i saw a yangle: school stuff

oh k
have fun

i saw a yangle: thanks you too!

Had Hendery tried to spell “angel”? He frowned and read over the texts again before swiping to the next image from Kun’s private chat with Hendery.

Hendery: yy said he has school stuff

What? But he’s free today and tomorrow, Ten already asked him

Hendery: well he said he has school stuff to do

What did he say exactly?

Hendery: [image]

Huh maybe Ten got the date wrong but I could’ve sworn he’d said he was free today…

Hendery: idk
Hendery: i can ask renjun maybe he knows

Sure. I’ll ask Yangyang myself too

Another screenshot from Kun’s private chat, this time with Yangyang.

Yangyang I thought you told Ten you were free today?

Yangyang: i forgot

What do you need to get done today? Maybe I or someone else can help?

Yangyang: thanks but i’m fine
Yangyang: i just have some stuff

If you need help with studying Xiaojun finishes his exam this afternoon and then you two could come together!

Yangyang: no i don’t wanna bother him

You know he loves spending time with you though
And he definitely wouldn’t mind
[Read]

His constricted in his chest. Did he make Yangyang think he didn’t want to spend time with him? Sure, the squirt was annoying at times but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy every second with him.

At first he you couldn’t have paid him to spend time with Yangyang but as the younger kept constantly popping into his life, he grew fond. He grew fond of the boy’s lighthearted atmosphere that freshened the air wherever he skipped. He grew fond of the boy’s random outbursts of elation over things as small as relocating his phone charger. He grew fond of the boy’s raucous, full bodied, contagious laughter and his huge smiles. He grew fond of those beautiful eyes, sometimes catching himself just staring into them while Yangyang rambled about something that had happened on his way home or a funny dream he’d had.

He found himself a little hurt by the implications that Yangyang was sick of him and didn’t want him around, which would’ve explained their awkward encounter.

He flipped to the next screenshot, this time from Hendery’s private chat with Renjun.

r u with yangyang

ace bb: im meeting w him later y

kun thought he was free today

ace bb: he is
ace bb: he literally has nothing to do
ace bb: but he asked if i could meet him at his dorm in like ten

?

ace bb: y what did he tell u

said he wasn’t free at all and he had school stuff

ace bb: did he say anything about xiaojun

yea

ace bb: what did he say

asked if xiaojun was gonna go to kun and ten’s place today
idk if he is
i told him probs and he told me he had school stuff

ace bb: inch resting

wut

ace bb: i’ll ask him when i get to his place and i can tell u when i get to kun’s

k

Xiaojun scanned the lines over and over again, trying to decode what could possibly tipped Renjun in a direction he couldn’t see.

There were more texts from Kun following the screenshots, all asking what had happened and what he’d done, none of which he could answer.

He went into his chat with Hendery who’d asked if he was going to Kun’s. Assuming the microwave hadn’t burned the house down, he replied that he’d be there after dropping his things off at his dorm.

He switched to their group chat which consisted of Kun, Ten, Sicheng, Lucas, Hendery, Xiaojun, Renjun and him. Messages were sent asking who would be at Kun’s and screenshots of ridiculous textposts from twitter and tumblr.

But nothing that would help him figure out why Yangyang didn’t want to see him.

Defeated, he tucked his phone away, restarting his music and stood to make his way home, mind buzzing.

After kicking off his shoes and dumping his coat by the door, he’d flopped down onto his bed to try and calm his raging mind. He couldn’t tell why his mood had dropped so suddenly and why he no longer felt like he was walking on air.

He changed into a warmer shirt knowing that Kun tended to keep his apartment cold to try and save money and took his phone and wallet, shrugging on his light jacket.

The walk to Kun’s place wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t ideal. Still, he felt like he needed the time to sort through everything.

What he knew was Yangyang had lied about being busy and that he probably wasn’t showing up. What he still had many questions about were Yangyang’s exact reason for lying and what Hendery had tried to spell in the boy’s contact name, though the latter was much less pertinent.

It bothered him to no end, like an itch in his eye that no matter how hard he scratched, it wouldn’t go away. It really shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did and that bothered him even more.

He rapped his knuckles against Kun’s door, unsure of when exactly he’d arrived but details didn’t seem important.

The door flung open and Lucas instantly swallowed him in a hug.

“Xiaojun!! Friend! It’s been over a week, man!” He cried happily, crushing Xiaojun’s face against his huge chest and squeezing his buff arms tightly against his small frame. With a strong hand, he gave Xiaojun a few brutally heavy bro-slaps on his back, knocking the air from the poor boy’s lungs.

“It- it sure has,” he wheezed loudly though Lucas was oblivious to his suffocation and only hugged harder.

“Come on in, man,” he said, finally releasing a panting, gasping Xiaojun and lead the way inside. “Kun, Xiaojun’s here!”

“Coming! Step away from the boiling water, Hendery, - Xiaojun!” Kun cried, beaming and running straight at him with the united strings of his apron whirling at his side. He pulled Xiaojun into a less crushing hug than Lucas that lasted half the time he’d choked in Lucas’s arms, stepping away to smile kindly.

“Hendery is in the kitchen, said he felt good enough to help today so I need to keep an eye on him. But make yourself comfortable, Renjun and Sicheng will be here soon,” he insisted, scurrying off again to the kitchen where he began spitting rapid Chinese at whom Xiaojun could only assume to be Hendery or Ten.

“Wass up, man?” Lucas asked, plunking down on the couch and patting the spot next to him for Xiaojun.

“Nothing much,” he shrugged, taking a seat and trying to relax into the old, lumpy cushion. “Got most of my exams out of the way so that’s always nice. What about you?”

“Oh, it’s goin good! I haven’t had much time to really breathe or see all of my friends so this is really nice, y’know?”

“Yeah, I feel that.”

“Mmm, yeah, it’s too bad Yangyang couldn’t make it,” he said, very conspicuously. Lucas had never been they type to be subtle or evasive.

Xiaojun turned his head to arch a brow. Lucas tried to copy, failing pitifully, ending up pulling one of his weird Justin Bieber impressions.

“A real shame,” he returned, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“What happened with you two?” Lucas asked without even attempting to soften the accusatory tone in his voice.

Xiaojun huffed, frowning. “You say that like it’s my fault he didn’t want to come!”

“It really seemed like it was,” Lucas shot back. “He used to talk to me about everything but now whenever I ask him about you he changes the subject or gives a shit answer. He’s always in a bad mood these days and barely laughs!” His voice had raised, almost shouting.

Xiaojun almost shrank back, the sheer power in Lucas’s voice enough to make him turn tail. God, things had escalated so quickly. But he straightened his back and looked Lucas square in the eye.

“Stop blaming me, I don’t even know what I could’ve done! I haven’t seen him in three days let alone had a conversation with him in six!”

“Boys!” Kun bellowed, storming into the room. “Change the topic right now, this isn’t something worth getting so worked up over,” he ordered, retreating back to the kitchen but not before sending a sharp glare their way.

Lucas groaned and shifted his seat on the couch, sulking.

Xiaojun folded his arms over his chest and tried to pay attention to the tv that was quietly playing some rerun of a drama. But the thought that he might’ve been the reason for Yangyang’s lack of enthusiasm and laughter gnawed at every edge of his mind.

Someone knocked at the door again and Lucas sprung up, tripping over his feet to get to the door. “I got it!”

He flung it open, crushing his next victim in a strong hug and obscuring them from Xiaojun’s view. Someone else shoved Lucas out of the doorway, pushing past the giant, toeing off his shoes at the door.

Sicheng looked up, meeting Xiaojun’s impassive eyes and he smiled pleasantly, ignoring Lucas who shouted at him for a hug.

“Xiaojun, you, like, died on me for a week,” he laughed in his deep, smooth voice, sitting down next to him and throwing his arm over the other’s shoulders.

“Good to see you again, Sicheng,” he smiled, leaning his head against his friend’s shoulder. Sicheng brushed his fingers through Xiaojun’s hair carefully, sending tingles racing down his spine though they had no effect on the silent boy.

“What’s up with you? Yangyang’s the only one who ever lets me touch his hair,” Sicheng remarked after a minute while Lucas was loudly shouting at someone.

He gave a tired shrug, offering nothing more. Sicheng must’ve inferred, based on everything that had happened over the last few days, that he shouldn’t press the topic, which Xiaojun was grateful for.

“Oh my god! You came!” Lucas howled loudly, crushing the next person in the doorway after releasing an agitated Renjun. Very familiar laughter filled the room and Xiaojun swore Sicheng could feel his thundering heart through their clothes.

“Yeah, I did,” Yangyang chuckled, voice sounding strained and too high pitched.

Xiaojun abruptly stood, excusing himself quietly, and wandered into the kitchen where Hendery was concentrating very hard on chopping up carrots while Ten and Kun argued back and forth about spices.

“Ah, Xiaojun, the food won’t be ready for another ten minutes or so I’m afraid,” Ten sighed, sparing a brief glance up to smile at the boy before going back to unpackaging paper bowls and plates.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just - are you using paper plates?”

“Wow! I am so glad you asked!” Kun exclaimed in a shrill, sugarcoated voice, scaring Xiaojun slightly. “Little Tennie here carelessly thought he could balance our actual bowls on his arms like a waiter, claiming he had good balance-”

“I said I had good coordination, dipshit!”

“-which resulted in nearly all of our bowls breaking! So now we get the luxury of using paper dishes!!”

“It’s just low quality service for a low quality meal,” Ten snickered, face morphing from sly to terrified in the next second when Kun threateningly raised a frying pan, aiming at his head. “Do not hit me with that or I will call the cops I swear to god Kun-”

Xiaojun made his silent exit, slipping into the bathroom to escape what might happen next, shaking his head fondly at his friends. There wasn’t ever genuine hatred or anger behind their words, most of the time, but it was still safer to stay clear when things escalated in the kitchen.

He flipped on the lights and peered at his reflection in the mirror. He frowned at how his bangs had become messed up by Sicheng’s hand and gingerly brushed at the strands of hair to get them to sit properly again.

Satisfied, he opened the door back up, turning off the lights as he left, only to walk straight into someone else.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not needing to lift his eyes from the ground to tell it was Yangyang. If Yangyang was already uncomfortable around him he wasn’t about to just stick around and drag out his misery.

“Xiaojun wait!”

He froze mid step but didn’t turn. “Yes?”

“Um, I’m- nevermind.”

His muscles relaxed a tad but his stomach twisted. He didn’t want to have this awkward conversation but at the same time he needed closure. Didn't look like he was getting any though.

“You, um, you can say whatever it is that’s been bothering you,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder but not quite face the younger. “I get it if you don’t like me or whatever, I’m usually quiet and not always great company and I get pretty grumpy-”

“What? I never said I didn’t like you,” Yangyang frowned. It didn’t suit him and his really beautiful face, though Xiaojun would never let him hear that.

He rubbed the back of his neck, turning away to look at the ground. “Oh, okay…”

“Yeah, no I don’t not like you, I’ve just… had a lot to think about lately with… everything.” He pasted on an unconvincing smile that didn’t reach his eyes or flash his perfect teeth. It made Xiaojun slightly uneasy.

“You can tell me if you want, like, whatever is on your mind,” he offered quietly, nervousness setting into his stomach once again. “I mean, if you want.”

Yangyang gave a small smile and nodded, taking a deep breath. “I, uh, I don’t think I can tell you now, I’m still trying to figure it all out, but thanks.”

They went their separate ways without another word, Xiaojun reclaiming his spot, now wedged between Sicheng and Hendery.

He didn’t engage for the remainder of the time that Kun and Ten finished up and the few one word answers he gave were only for questions directed specifically at him. They all shot long, questioning glances with narrowed eyes and slight frowns but at least they all had the decency to not pry in such an open setting.

“Okayyy!” Kun sung, picking his way through the house with a huge tray of food. “Since I know you rats don’t have table manners and none of you can sit still for more than ten minutes anyways, Ten agreed to letting everyone just eat wherever.”

He set it down on the coffee table in the living room, presenting a large platter of cooked vegetables, stir fried rice and a small selection of roasted meats.

“Ten has the soup so get up yourself to get it if you want it!” Kun finished, dumping a large stack of paper plates and bowls with mismatched cutlery next to the tray. “Please enjoy!”

The room filled with noise with everyone clamoring for a bite of the mouthwatering, and most importantly, free, food. Mangled sentences of Chinese and English flew, threatening to burst the walls with everyone shouting and trying to stuff their faces.

Xiaojun got his soup before everyone else, greeted by Ten with a smile and a full bowl of steaming, savory soup. He went back, claiming a seat at the small round table that seated four at most, not keen on getting his food kicked and spilled on the ground or in his lap. He returned to the mess of a food fight, snatching a plate for himself and whatever he could grab through the mass of huge bodies.

It was delicious, as Kun’s food always was, and he savored every peaceful bite until Renjun joined him with a heaping plate of rice and meat, very few vegetables in sight.

“Good idea,” he commented before digging in.

Xiaojun nodded briefly before shoveling rice into his own mouth. Then his phone vibrated against against his butt, a very awkward occurrence at times when he forgot where he’d put it, and pinged with a message.

He finished chewing and swallowed before pulling it out and unlocking the screen, tapping into his messages and into his conversation with Ten.

boo-berry: why the fuck is yangyang crying in my bathroom

Fuck. That was a good question, why was Yangyang crying in the bathroom? It had to have been at least ten minutes since they’d had their short exchange and then it had taken five for him to settle down which lead him to the conclusion that Yangyang had been crying in the bathroom for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes.

why are you asking me?

He sent back his message, hoping it came off as passive aggressive through the screen. He was getting sick of people immediately blaming him for Yangyang’s off mood when he’d done literally nothing to upset the boy. But he still felt remorse clawing at his gut.

“Who are you texting?” Renjun inquired impertinently. A few grains of rice flew from his lips, splattering onto Xiaojun’s napkin. He folded it up and pushed it under his plate while shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Just Ten.”

“Ten? Why can’t he just ask you here?” He pressed.

Xiaojun ground his teeth subtly and sharpened his gaze. He could feel himself beginning to break under everyone's interrogative questions and accusatory implications.

“Why can’t you just keep your nose in your own business?” He snapped back. Renjun didn’t seem as taken aback as some of his other friends would’ve been and only leaned forward over his plate.

“Because you’re my friend, everyone here is my friend, and I like to take liberties in making my friends’ business my business. If it’s bothering you, it’s bothering me and when I get bothered, I get hungry and sad which leads to a lot of extra weight and I’m not about to give up this figure for something that’s probably trivial. Now spill.”

Well then.

The older sighed, raking his hands through his hair and staring down at his food. “Yangyang’s been weird lately.”

“And?”

He glared at the younger boy who remained undisturbed, an expectant brow raised. Sometimes he wondered how he and Renjun ever reached “friend” status in the first place.

“And he doesn’t seem to want to be around me, or something. I don’t even know but everyone’s blaming me for his moping about and melancholy mood. It’s just… I don’t know, nothing’s making sense,” he sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Well,” Renjun began, sounding like a mom about to lecture her kid on why lying would send them to hell, “it sounds like no one knows the whole story so jumping to conclusions is your first issue.”

He groaned and realized how loud he’d sounded in the much quieter room. He shot back up, sitting properly with his head straight and caught a few of his friends giving his questioning glances.

“You good over there, Dejun?”

“Fantastic, thank you. And don’t call me that.”

“Jeez, so-rry,” Hendery huffed, raising his hands.

Xiaojun slumped back in his chair, no longer hungry.

“Dejun? What’s Dejun?” Lucas asked loudly, pulling his chopsticks out of his mouth.

“None of your buisness,” Xiaojun snapped, glaring sharply at the other boy who flinched before returning his glare.

“Anyways,” Renjun said, drawing Xiaojun’s attention back to their conversation, “my point is, you really need to work on those communication skills. For a kid with your intelligence-”

“I’m older than you.”

“-you sure know nothing. Literally talk to him, if he actually has a problem with you, you’d be the one he would tell.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works?”

Renjun frowned, sucking a grain of rice off the tip of his knife. “It’s not? Oh, well for me the only people I tell about the people I hate are the people I hate, so…”

“You think he hates me?” He whispered quietly, nervousness geared back up at full force. Fuck, maybe Yangyang did hate him and was just too nice to actually say it.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” Renjun hurriedly corrected, “I never said that. I’m just saying, talk to him. Ask him what’s up.”

“I just did and then Ten texted me that he’s crying in the bathroom right now,” he groaned, bonking his head against the table. “I don’t even know anymore…”

Renjun’s chopsticks clattered onto his plate. “You made him cry??”

“I- I- no, no I did not, shut up, he just- he didn’t say anything! I didn’t say anything to make him cry, honest, I swear on my life! Shit, Renjun, put the knife down, jesus christ!”

“Why would you make him cry?!” He shouted, attracting all four other pairs of eyes in the room.

“I didn’t make him cry!” He shouted back, beyond flustered and indignant.

“Then stop sitting there and go make him stop crying!” Renjun hollered, slamming his knife back down on the table, threateningly twirling the blade so the light glinted off it’s serrated edge.

Xiaojun glared at him for another second before standing quickly, throwing down his spoon and storming off to the bathroom.

“Atta boy, Xiaojun!” Renjun cheered mockingly. Xiaojun easily flipped him off without sparing a look over his shoulder and approached the bathroom with wobbly knees.

He knocked gently. “Yangyang? Ten?”

Faint sniffles were completely muffled a second later. “Xiaojun?” Yangyang asked, voice faint and watery.

His heart threatened to shatter. “Yeah, it’s me,” he replied, all irritation and anger swept away like sand by calm, ocean waves. “Can, um, can I come in?”

There was a long pause and muted sniffling before there was shuffling and the doorknob clicked.

He looked up, meeting Yangang’s puffy eyes and red-rubbed cheeks. His eyes had lost their twinkle and had been clouded with a dark murkiness with so many emotions swimming beneath the surface, none of them identifiable.

He gave a trembling smile, lips bright red with tooth marks dug in all along his bottom lip. “Did- did you need something?” He asked, failing to hide the waver in normally loud, strong voice.

Xiaojun swallowed thickly. “Why did Ten text me that you were crying?”

Yangyang let out a harsh bark of a laugh without any real cheerfulness behind it. “Because I was. It’s nothing, really,” he dismissed, sniffling one more time and rubbing at his eyes.

“W-was it something I said?” He asked. He needed to be sure. “I’m sorry if I said something, I swear I didn’t mean it at all, whatever it was I might’ve said,” he rambled nervously, cut off by a quick shake of Yangyang’s head.

“No, it wasn’t- it wasn’t anything you said it- it’s really not a big deal,” he insisted, biting at his reddened lip again.

“Of course it’s a big deal, anything that upsets you is a big deal,” he said, frowning slightly. He reached up, resting a hand on Yangyang’s shoulder. “You can tell me anything you need to, really.”

Yangyang seemed to tense at the touch and he looked away. “It doesn’t matter, it’s not a big deal,” he repeated.

“Please, let me be a good friend and help you with whatever it is you need. I’ll do whatever you want, just tell me please,” he said.

The younger boy sucked in a deep breath, bringing his trembling fingers to his chest, absentmindedly winding them together. “Don’t- don’t, um, don’t worry about it, there’s- it’s not a big deal,” he mumbled, still refusing to look at Xiaojun.

His heart really was starting to break. He’d seen Yangyang cry many times over the few months they’d known eachother but most often it was over a character death in a book, movie or drama. And if it wasn’t that, then it was over something happy happening to a character in a book, movie or drama. He’d once seen Yangyang cry when his goldfish died after only a week, which had been terrible for everyone because Yangyang seemed so defeated and heartbroken that he hadn’t been good enough to keep a goldfish alive.

This however, was a whole different level and though it was his first time witnessing Yangyang in such a saddened state, he knew he would do anything to keep the boy from falling back into this.

“Please, tell me, I can tell it’s been bothering you for a while,” he pleaded, reaching his hand up to wipe a stray tear away with his thumb. But Yangyang unexpectedly brushed his hand away, turning his head to hide his eyes and face.

“I told you, it’s not a big deal, just, please leave me alone,” he huffed, crossing his arms and keeping his gaze averted.

“But everyone’s sad that you’re sad! You’ve been acting so off lately I just… think maybe it would help you if you got whatever it is off your chest?” He tried, refraining from touching him again. “It doesn’t have to be me you tell,” he added quickly, recalling Yangyang’s distant behavior around him lately, “but I think you should really tell someone.”

Long seconds of silence passed between them, nothing but Xiaojun’s deafening heartbeat in his head, pulse palpable through every vein in his body and stomach a tight coil of nerves.

“You really want to know?” He whispered, lifting his tearfilled eyes to meet Xiaojun’s again.

He nodded without hesitation.

Yangyang shakily inhaled, breath puffing from his lips unevenly. “Lately these feelings have just been really, really intense, don’t ask me why, but they’ve been filling my mind all day and all night.” He paused for a shaky breath. “And they won’t go away. I’ve tried in the past and I had to try again but it didn’t work. It- it’s s-so hard just to think about them sometimes a-and when you’re actually standing in front of me I- it’s so hard t-to keep them in check.”

He took another shaky breath. “I-I just like you so much, but I don’t want to ruin our friendship i-if that’s not how you feel about me.”

The air was pushed forcefully from his lungs, leaving him breathless and speechless. He struggled to carry out the simplest of functions, taking in air becoming a challenge and trying to think of actual words impossible. His stomach dropped and his warm blood rushed through his body, making his choice of warmer clothes work against him.

“I’m so sorry,” Yangyang sobbed. “I really didn’t want this to happen, I’m so sorry it’s just-” he hiccuped loudly, trying to quiet his sniffles, “i-it’s just that y-you’re thoughtful a-and kind and p-patient a-and smart and just- just so beautiful you know that?” He clasped a hand over his mouth to contain a sob that shook his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, voice scratchy.

Xiaojun stood paralyzed by his emotions. None of it made sense.

And then it did. And his world seemed to fall apart, like everything would end.

Yangyang was gay.

Yangyang liked him. As more than a friend.

Yangyang was gay and liked him as more than a friend.

The thought kept looping in his mind but it never changed, always the same conclusion.

His heart was beating so fast and so hard that it might’ve flown into outer space if his ribcage hadn’t kept it in. His hands were slick with sweat and his knees threatened to buckled under him, zapped with nervous tension. He hadn’t noticed a tear had slid down his cheek until it landed against his hand that was clasped over his own mouth.

It was too much. Is that really how Yangyang felt? For how long? Since when had he been gay?

What could he say? What was there to say?

Did he like Yangyang back? A small blink in the back of his mind was smothered by the hundreds of other thoughts and questions, making it impossible to decipher what it had been trying to tell him about himself.

He couldn’t do this. Things would definitely never go back to normal and he felt like it was all his fault.

With great effort, he barely managed to draw in enough air to form words.

“Yangyang I’m-” he struggled to get the words out, each syllable dragging up his throat like sandpaper. “I’m not g-gay,” he breathed, voice cracking on the word.

He watched his friend’s eyes shut, freeing several fat tears that wound down his streaked cheeks, and he nodded slowly. Yangyang sobbed quietly into his hand, collapsing into a huddled ball on the ground and hiding his face in his knees.

He couldn’t do this. This had been a mistake.

Xiaojun turned and ran, wiping furiously at his eyes.

“I’m leaving,” he announced curtly, cutting rudely into the lively conversation that completely died as he sped through the living room while trying to hid his face and escape as fast as possible.

“Xiaojun?!? Are you okay?!”

“Where are you going?!”

“Are you crying?”

“Wait, what happened?!”

“Xiaojun, wait!”

“Oh my god, where’s Yangyang?”

He slammed the door behind him, sprinting out of the apartment complex and down the street, only rubbing at his eyes when his tears built up so much that his vision became splotches of color with no shape or depth.

He ran, unwilling to think about even the notion. Yangyang wasn’t like that for him, right? He never looked at Yangyang that way, right?

Right. His feelings for the other boy were completely platonic.

Maybe the first big, rainbow colored sign reading “GAY” in his life should’ve been when he’d practically obsessed over this one boy back in elementary school. Not in a creepy way, just in an always-wanting-to-be-around-him sort of way. Whenever he could, he’d try to hold his hand, and hug him even, just to be close, as weird as it sounds. His parents of course had taken note of the dozens of times this kid had been invited over and during summer break, they must’ve done something because Xiaojun hadn’t been placed in the same class with him ever again.

Of course, maybe that was way too subtle for a boy of merely six years, which would’ve made the next biggest sign his unexplainable passion for another special boy in his junior high years. Reduced to a blur over the time passed since, the faintest recollection he could muster was constantly feeling warm and flustered in the presence of the boy. His knees had weakened, his heart had pounded and his hands were always shaky and sweaty whenever they talked. But he hadn’t ever told anyone, nor done anything about it himself.

But after that the events and indications were more spread and much more subtle, though they were always there. Thoughts about it never lingered for more than a day but always stuck around long enough for him to remember when the next “sign” popped up.

Well there had been that one time- He didn’t like thinking about that.

He’d heard enough floating around school to have a basic idea of what “gay” and “transgender” were but he’d never been fully exposed to anyone gay until he’d gone to university where he’d met Hendery. It had started out as asking to borrow a pencil, Xiaojun always complying, albeit begrudgingly sometimes, and from there they’d formed a companionship of comparing notes and proofreading works, eventually transitioning into Xiaojun spending more time at Hendery’s than his own.

Hendery’s coming out had been unceremonious to say the least. Xiaojun had only recently learned about his friend’s depression, explaining his forgetfulness and difficulty concentrating while reviewing for exams, and that had been when he’d offered to clean out Hendery’s cabinets and stumbled across empty bottles of antidepressants.

Not a week later, he’d run into Hendery dressed up in a really striking outfit, walking into a gay bar. The text he’d sent Hendery could’ve definitely been phrased much more respectfully and sensitively but he’d gotten his answer the next morning with a simple “oh yea i like men.”

He would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t feel weird after that, avoiding direct conversation with the other and giving short replies to any texts sent his way.

It took him weeks to become comfortable around his friend again, for whatever reason. Since then, Kun had come out to him, Ten had come out to him, Lucas and Sicheng had dropped many not so subtle hints and Renjun branded himself as a chaotic asexual when they’d first met so it had gradually become easier.

But this time it was Yangyang and that was a whole different story.

He fell asleep almost immediately, telling himself that if he was asleep, then the feelings would fade away with consciousness.

It worked for a whole eight hours until his own body woke him up.

His cheeks were rough from salty tears that had streamed down his face all night out of so many very intense and overwhelming emotions.

He hadn’t even changed, leading to wrinkled, dirty clothes grossly sticking to his body. His hair was squashed against the pillow, not going to look well when he was greeted by this own reflection. Just everywhere felt awful, as if he’d woken up with a hangover despite never touching a drop the night before.

His phone buzzed against his butt again, startling him a little more awake. He reached into his pocket, clumsily drawing out his phone and opening to the lock screen that was completely obscured by notifications, all from his friends.

He didn’t spare any of them another second. With a jerky click, he silenced his phone completely and threw it onto his nightstand with a clatter, rolling over onto his back and forcing a slow, deep breath.

What had even happened? And why did it feel like his heart was empty?

Days passed of Xiaojun completely shutting out his friends and most of the world around him. Guilt, uncertainty, bewilderment, irritation and dejection clung to every part of him like his own shadow, never releasing his exhausted mind and body.

His last exam had started and finished so quickly he couldn’t remember anything that had been on it and could only cross his fingers for a passing grade at that point - there was no way he could let them revoke his full-ride scholarship. But the days after the exam, he did nothing but rot away in his dorm room, his roommate too high off his ass all the time to give a damn.

He did eat, once or twice every few days, but that was when he found the time in between excessively sleeping, profusely crying and furiously scribbling out page after page of song lyrics and music compositions to try and cope with everything that had been going on.

It must’ve almost been a week of pretending he was dead and a day after classes had started back up again when there was a knock on his door. He’d gotten back from his 10am lecture only half an hour ago and hadn’t eaten in over twenty four hours so he’d been trying to scrape together whatever processed, packaged junk he could consume and wasn’t in the mood for his roommate’s wildly inappropriate comments on the girl he’d fucked the night before or uncomfortable questions about the last time he’d gotten laid and who it had been with. But then again, his roommate never knocked.

Warily, he made his way to the door. None of his friends had visited since the event, probably caught up in their own exam schedules though he always told himself it was because they hated him so when he peeped through the door hole and saw Kun nervously glancing around with his phone pressed to his ear, his stomach flopped.

He didn’t want to see Kun. But maybe Kun needed something completely unrelated to Yangyang? But he still didn’t want to see Kun or talk to him. But he shouldn’t just ignore him…

Maybe if he did ignore him, he’d go away.

“Xiaojun? It’s Kun.”

He held his breath, as if Kun had supersonic hearing. Honestly, he probably did. He was the most attentive of everyone in the group, always picking up on the most subtle of things said by his friends.

“Xiaojun, are you in there?” He knocked again. Xiaojun ducked, squatting and wrapping his arms around his knees in case Kun had x-ray vision too.

Crackling static drifted through the wooden door and Kun sighed loudly.

“Well, you must’ve gotten his schedule wrong, he’s not in there. Or he’s sleeping. Or just not answering the door.”

The suffocating guilt wasn’t enough to overpower his fear. Not yet, at least.

More indecipherable words.

“I don’t think he’s read even my texts… no… I’m not just gonna leave something like that on the door where someone else can take it… But then what if his roommate finds it?... No, he’s complained about his roommate being a nosy bitch before, we’re not doing that.”

Xiaojun slumped against the door. He needed someone to talk to. But at the same time he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He felt the crushing responsibility to handle it all by himself, like he’d always had to do.

“I said, I don’t know if he’s even in there… Well, yeah if his class ended a half an hour ago he should be in there but maybe he’s not? I thought he wouldn’t mind if it was me, since you’re the one who first texted him about Yangyang and maybe he- no, I didn’t say that, I just said he seems mad at all of us but especially Yangyang, Renjun and Xuxi… If you want, but I guess I’ll just go for now. Check again, I think you messed up his schedule… Alright… See you soon, byebye.”

Kun’s footsteps retreated, fading into silence.

He didn’t feel hungry anymore but forced down two fun sized Snickers bars and a bag of goldfish, returning to his bed.

Night fell and his homework had been completed, leaving the rest of the moonlight shining in the sky for him to either sleep or mope around some more.

He chose the latter, not wanting to sleep this time because that would require waking up, and instead looked at his messages for the first time in nearly a week.

Over a hundred unread messages smacked him in the face, all concerned and comforting. This time he at least had the decency to feel guilty enough and read through them.

h: hey buddy r u doin ok
h: ?
h: yangyang told us some of what happened but he’s still crying
h: don’t be mad at him pls he’s trying his best

h: hey xiaojun it’s been like two days r u ok
h: i hope u remember to eat
h: pls remember to eat
h: pls take care of urself like u take care of me
h: im here for u 

h: hey buddy pls just let me and everyone else know ur alive
h: we’re all worried but exams are killing us too
h: i get u probably don’t wanna talk to anyone but just text back so we know ur alive
h: ok?

h: xiaojun do i need to come over?
h: ur really scaring me
h: pls just text back
h: anything just text back anything

He switched into his conversation with Lucas, heart picking up at what he might’ve texted him.

sushi: That wasn’t cool
sushi: Whatever happened don’t do it ever again
sushi: Yangyang is still really upset and I’m gonna get to the bottom of this
sushi: Ur both my friends
sushi: But u hurt him badly

He switched out into Ten’s, not feeling it in him to read the rest. Aside from Yangyang who hadn’t bothered to message him, Lucas had sent the least number of texts which fueled his conclusion that Lucas hated him the most.

10: r u ok??
10: xiaojun what the fuck happened?
10: i left to get a box of tissues what shit could you have possible done??
10: he’s crying so hard he won’t even talk to us what the fuck
10: pls just tell me what happened i promise i’m not mad
10: xiaojun answer your damn phone
10: xiaojun
10: xiaojun
10: xiaojun
10: he told us a little but he’s still so sad
10: what the fuc khappened???
10: he said you’d thought he was angry at u
10: he won’t tell us any more
10: why the fuck does he keep saying you hate him now?
10: why
10: why the fuck is he crying about ruining your friendship
10: xiaojun what the fuck happened
10: xiaojun answer ur fucking phone

10: xiaojun if u thought i was giving up u were wrong
10: we got him home
10: no thanks to u
10: can u just tell us what happened??
10: xiaojun i’m gonna keep messaging u until u answer or until i die
10: whichever comes first
10: i have an exam i’ll text u tomoorw >:(

10: xiaojun pls just tell us what happened
10: pls just let us know ur ok

10: did u die???

10: hellooooo

The rest of Ten’s messages followed a similar structure of him just spamming Xiaojun’s phone with questions and concerns. He swiped out, opening his messages with Renjun.

Chaotic Ace: dude i just told u to talk to him
Chaotic Ace: what the fuck did u say??
Chaotic Ace: he’s so sad now
Chaotic Ace: im coming over
Chaotic Ace: no im not kun said no one is going anywhere until yy stops cring
Chaotic Ace: tell me what happened

Chaotic Ace: im sorry if ur mad at me
Chaotic Ace: i just tried to help
Chaotic Ace: an im sorry my help didnt rlly help
Chaotic Ace: but can u just tell me what happened??

Chaotic Ace: pls answer im not mad at u or anything
Chaotic Ace: we r all worried

Chaotic Ace: xiaojun im serious answer ur phone
Chaotic Ace: if u dont im gonna break into ur dorm
Chaotic Ace: nvm kun said i need to study
Chaotic Ace: but pls reply

Renjun’s texts tapered off there, becoming fewer and fewer until it seemed he’d given up. He closed out and opened Sicheng’s messages.

loselose: come back
loselose: why did you leave crying?
loselose: nevermind
loselose: wait why is Yang crying too?
loselose: Xiaojun i hope you’re okay
loselose: pls don’t be sad

loselose: hey are you in your dorm?
loselose: guess not because i knocked and no one answered
loselose: please talk to me
loselose: just let me know you’re okay

loselose: are you okay?

loselose: where are you?
loselose: why aren’t you in your dorm?

loselose: Xiaojun whatever happened between you and Yangyang you still have me
loselose: please just talk to me

loselose: if i swing by today is your gross roommate going to answer your door or will you actually be around?
loselose: i guess you’re not home
loselose: can u at least reply to my texts?

So someone had tried to visit him. That helped dull the ache in his chest microscopically.

He didn’t need to check the group chat or Kun’s messages to know they’d all be the same but he still opened them nonetheless.

He should reply. At least to Hendery’s, he’d known him the longest out of everyone else.

So he did. He reopened their chat and tapped out a several, differently phrased messages before settling on a thumbs up and sending it without another thought. It had been something Hendery usually did when he needed to let Xiaojun know he was doing okay but couldn’t bring himself to type out the words.

He got a reply less than a minute later.

h: :D
h: thx for replying
h: do u want me to come over?
h: just to sit or
h: not talk
h: just to be there?

As appealing as it was, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. Maybe Yangyang had finally told them the whole story and Hendery would think he was homophobic and hate him.

idk
i’m not doing that great

h: we dont have to talk if u dont want to
h: i could pop by for a second and leave if thats what u wanted

...

He thought about it. He really needed someone just to have them there and know they were with him.

yes please
but just don’t tell the others?
please?

h: i cant not tell them
h: they all care abt u seriously
h: but i can wait until tomorrow if that helps

okay

h: b there in five

Five minutes later, there was a soft knock at his door. He scrambled up out of his blankets, disregarding his roommates disgruntled groans, but froze with his hand hovering over the doorknob.

He became a bit unsure. Maybe now wasn’t the best time…

But he didn’t think he could handle it himself anymore.

He gradually opened the door, revealing Hendery dressed in his signature grey sweats and oversized green hoodie with a gentle smile on his face.

Xiaojun stepped aside, letting his friend enter, and lead them over to his bed, hopping onto the mattress.

“You, uh, you can sit,” he offered, patting the bed. The words felt weird on his tongue after barely talking for a week.

Hendery nodded and kicked off his shoes, reclining against the pillows.

Silence fell over them and the dark room suddenly felt huge like Hendery was seated oceans away.

“Did you wanna talk or… not talk?”

With great effort, his muscles finally relaxed. “I-I want to talk but I don’t know what to say…”

In the dark shadows, Hendery’s nod was barely detectable but still there. “Did you wanna talk about Yangyang or not about Yangyang?”

He gnawed at the inside of his cheek. “D-did you wanna talk about Yangyang?” He asked, looking away despite Hendery not being able to seem him.

“I wanna talk about whatever you wanna talk about. It’s your call,” he murmured softly.

Deep breaths.

“Y-yeah, I wanna talk about it…” His eyes were stinging slightly and the back of his throat tightened. “I wanna talk about Yangyang.”

Hendery hummed lowly, shifting himself on the covers before exhaling sharply. “Do you wanna tell me what happened? He hasn’t said anything other than he thinks you hate him and that he ruined everything,” he informed.

Ouch. “Shit, he thinks that? That I hate him?”

“Well… yeah, but don’t worry too much about it, Kun’s helping him with keeping up with school and everything. Just talk to me about whatever, I’m here to listen.”

He swallowed, blinking rapidly. “I think I’m the one who fucked everything up.”

Hendery hummed, letting him know he was listening but didn’t interrupt.

“I- I don’t even- it all happened so fucking fast,” he whispered, struggling to keep his tears at bay. “He just- fucking said he liked me?? I don’t- I don’t even know.”

A warm, slippery feeling rolled down his cheek. “I guess I owe you a better explanation, huh? Disappeared for a week without a word…”

“No one blames you,” he cut in firmly. “No one is mad at you and no one blames you. We were worried but we knew you needed space, don’t feel bad about taking time you need.”

Deep breaths. “Th-thanks. Uh, I guess I should start from before the actual dinner. But, um, Kun sent me the things you sent him about Yangyang hinting he didn’t want- didn’t want to see me or whatever a-and I didn’t feel good about that from there anyway. Wait- no, um, actually, like, four days before… shit was it two? I’m sorry, I just-”

“Deep breaths, Xiaojun. Deep breaths. Take it easy, don’t worry, I’m here as long as you need me to be.”

Deep breaths.

“I-I met him a bit before the whole thing, and he was just off. He seemed… not happy to see me, w-which was weird and, um, and then the whole thing of implying that he didn’t want to see me and, uh, yeah.”

Deep breaths.

“B-before when I went to the bathroom, w-we bumped into eachother and um, I asked him if he, like, y’know, hated me but he s-said no and, uh, then I went back to eat a-and then T-Ten texted me he was crying so- so I didn’t know what had happened or what to do and then Renjun suggested I just talk to him and I tried, I swear I tried, but he didn’t want to tell me but he kept crying and then I felt like crying a-and he just… said he liked me.”

A strangled sob pushed past his lips, echoing sorrowfully in the small dorm and earning yet another grunt of annoyance from his roommate.

“Do you want a hug?” Hendery asked with the utmost of tenderness, clothes rustling as he opened his arms for Xiaojun. The shorter fell into them, clinging tightly to his friend while muffling his cries into his shoulder.

“H-Hendery, I d-don’t understand…” he cried quietly, tears soaking his friends sweatshirt. “It doesn’t make sense…”

Hendery nodded against Xiaojun, thinking quietly. “I can’t explain it to you because I’m not Yangyang, but I can tell you for sure that everything will work out, you just have to try. Yangyang isn’t the type to hold grudges, you know that. If you don’t like him back, he’ll get over it, just give him the time. If you do, talk to him.”

His mind was reeling. Did he like Yangyang back like that? That had caused him the most suffering over the week he’d spent crying and sleeping and writing. But he’d never been able to bring himself to ask the question.

Am I gay?

He’d told Yangyang, no. He’d told everyone else he’d met in his life, no. He’d told himself no whenever the question periodically resurfaced. He’d always told himself no.

But he’d begun to doubt himself ever since he met his first gay friend, Hendery.

“Am I gay?” The question had been spoken very softly, almost inaudibly, but it was so deafening and powerful.

“That’s not something for me to tell you, Junjun.” Hendery rubbed his back in soothing circles, pulling the smaller boy closer. “But you don’t need to decide right this moment. Maybe you are. Maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re something other than gay, but not straight. It’s your call, take it easy, you don’t even need to label yourself if you choose not to. It’s your sexuality, no one else can decide for you. However you choose to identify, you’ll always be my friend.”

The knot in his stomach loosened and the throb against his temples eased. So he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

The clock ticked still, the moon journeyed through the night sky, the stars still twinkled. Everything would be okay. His world would come back together.

It was comforting, having someone to lean on and talk to. Hendery, though unpredictable and a little unstable at times, was the best friend Xiaojun had ever made. Everyone deserved a Hendery in their lives.

He took a deep breath. “Um… can you stay? With me? J-just for tonight, I mean, only if you want to, or-”

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

“Thank you… thank you so much.”

“You’ve already done so much for me. I think it’s about time I return the favor,” he chuckled lowly, flopping around to lay down properly, Xiaojun tucked against his chest.

They woke early and got ready without a word, Xiaojun’s roommate in a half conscious state but already asking if Xiaojun finally got laid.

They quickly made their way to Hendery’s apartment, crisp morning air waking them both completely. It was overcast and would probably stay that way for the rest of the day, but neither minded all that much.

“Right, so Kun just messaged me…” Hendery informed, getting his things together for his class. He dropped his bag back onto his couch and walked up to Xiaojun, phone cradled in his hands. “Um, he asked where I was last night.”

Hendery was giving him the choice of how much to reveal from the night before, for which he was eternally grateful.

“Uh, just say I asked you to stay over. But, um, don’t… don’t mention about what we talked about… please?”

“Sure thing.” Hendery quickly tapped out his reply to Kun and stuffed his phone into his pocket, scooping his bag back up and leading the way out.

They were nearly back on campus when Hendery asked another question, sensitively breaching the topic.

“I know it’s not my job to say anything, and I’m not going to nor am I gonna tell you what to do and how to do it, but it would be best for both of you to talk.”

“Hendery-” he was cut off by his friend. But replaying his words through his head, he recognized those were very similar to the words he’d told Yangyang himself.

“Just hear me out, I’m not saying it to put you in an uncomfortable situation, I’m not trying to corner you, please understand that, but if you don’t do anything nothing's gonna change. And I hate seeing my friends so divided.” They followed the pathway, students rushing by to move from place to place.

“I talked to him at Kun’s and look what happened,” he muttered, speeding ahead of Handery to pass a cluster of students moving at the pace of molasses.

“Yes, but,” Hendery forced his way through the cluster, ignoring their shouts of indignation, “you don’t have to be alone this time. I could just be in the next room over, or mediate the conversation, or maybe Sicheng since he’s the most levelheaded-”

“Hendery, I don’t want to talk about this now,” he said, words clipped. He jogged up to the building and turned at the top of the stairs. “I’ll be by around twelve, okay? Let me know if anything changes.”

He walked in without waiting for an answer and trudged to his first lecture of the morning. The clock ticked slowly and his mind grew idle, wandering back to the night before.

Hendery had said Yangyang would get over his… crush on Xiaojun, he just needed time. But… maybe he didn’t want him to get over it? And if he didn’t want him to get over it, what did that mean? What would happen from there?

He was dismissed and for the whole time he spent getting to Hendery’s dorm, he was stuck in his mind again.

If he was gay… what did that entail other than rainbows and dating other men? How would his life change, if it did at all? Would people look at him differently?

Well, that was kind of a lame question. Unless he went parading around with rainbow flags in his hair and glitter on his face, they probably wouldn’t have been able to tell. Hell, he hadn’t been able to tell that Hendery or any of his other friends were gay until they’d explicitly said so. He hadn’t known Yangyang was gay.

But thinking back, the many times Yangyang had gushed over a boy’s nice hair or outfit or smile had been pretty big giveaways. Also probably the fact he and Hendery had pictures of them attending pride parades and pride fests on their social media.

Well they could’ve just been showing support, he defended himself.

He’d reached Hendery’s without knowing and unlocked the door with the spare key, pushing open the door and stepping in. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his coat, tossing it towards the couch and missing terribly but his eyes had become transfixed on the people sitting on the couch.

“Xiaojun.” Kun’s voice was firm and deep, leaving no room for argument or interruption. Next to him, Ten’s mouth was hanging open while he leaned against a very nervous and guilty Hendery.

Xiaojun immediately turned, ready to just walk out and leave his shit at Hendery’s to pick up later when the others weren’t around.

“Xiaojun, don’t you dare leave!” Kun yelled, standing in a second and hurrying to cross the room before the younger could leave.

“Watch me,” he growled, grappling with the doorknob a second before popping the door right back open and exiting briskly.

“Xiao Dejun, come back!”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

He sprinted without another thought, planning to catch a bus ride to the city park, a common area for the university students to get some fresh air, before going straight back to his dorm because that’d be too predictable.

Hendery had known he would be around to check in on him after morning classes and he’d still allowed Kun and Ten over. That was fucking repulsive.

He patted at his pockets for his phone but it wasn’t on him. Shit, it must’ve still been in his coat or bag. He groaned. The only money kept on himself when he didn’t have his wallet was in his phone case and now he didn’t even have a penny to catch a ride. Looked like he was walking.

He speed walked the whole way, arms tightly wrapped around himself to try and brave the cold battering at his inadequate sweatshirt. Fuck it, if he got sick then he got sick.

Hendery really had double crossed him like that. And it really hurt. Hendery had been the only one not screaming at him about what he’d done to Yangyang and now he had no one.

He hadn’t wanted to tell anyone before he’d figured it all out himself, but he’d trusted Hendery enough to confide in him. Then again, he’d never said Hendery couldn’t “coincidentally” meet up with Kun and Ten at the same time Xiaojun scheduled himself to visit three times every week since freshman year. But he still felt like it had been implied.

He scowled, fighting back a shiver as he stormed through the streets, focused on finding a quiet, vacant area where he could cry and not be found. Even just thinking that sounded really depressing. He wanted to laugh at himself. He’d always been told by his family and friends he was too emotional for his own good and had since worked hard to learn to bottle it up, only releasing the pressure when he was alone.

The park gradually came into sight and his spirits lifted every so slightly.

He finally reached it, finding the park fairly unoccupied and sighed, slowing his walk to a more languid stroll. A bench beneath a tree would shade the much needed sunlight, however weak it was through the overcast clouds, but a bench beneath the tree was more secluded, less exposed.

With that reasoning, he sat easily, crossing his leg over the other, and hugged himself a little tighter to keep himself from shivering.

Few people milled about, chatting casually and laughing freely, some with kids in tow and others on their own, enjoying the serene setting.

Xiaojun slumped against the back of the bench. He no longer felt the urge to cry but he didn’t feel the energy to go back to his dorm or try and get his stuff either. If anyone needed him for anything, which was highly unlikely, they’d just have to wait.

“Wow,” he sighed heavily, hands reaching up to brush through his hair, letting long fingers of cold wind weave through and chill his scalp.

The morning replayed in his mind. Hendery had made one good point, that nothing would change if he didn’t do anything. Obviously Yangyang would probably resume his life and their schedules would straighten out, but nothing between them would change. He hadn’t seen the boy since he’d bailed but he was not looking forward to the inevitably suffocating atmosphere that would definitely trigger an asthma attack of sorts when they met face to face again.

He pulled at his hair angrily. Maybe he shouldn’t have just run out. Maybe it would’ve been better to… stay? Talk it through?

God, but he’d needed to leave so badly. The tears in Yangyang’s eyes had just…

His own eyes watered again, just thinking of the boy’s devastated reaction. And the heavy load he must’ve been dragging with him whenever they’d met over the past few weeks…

He blinked hard and sat up, crossing his arms back over his chest. Yeah, there was no way he’d be able to confront Yangyang.

His mind fluttered between thoughts for the next few minutes, trading one thought for another but never delving deeper than surface level analysis.

Through the noise in his head, his ears caught snippets of Chinese carrying on the wind through the park. He strained his ears, having nothing better to do than eavesdrop on a random stranger’s conversation.

“I just feel really bad…”

He tugged at his ear, frowning slightly. Something in his head screamed danger but until he could figure it out, he didn’t plan on expending the energy to stand up.

“Stop blaming yourself, that was such a big secret. It’s not your fault it grew into something too big for you to carry on your own…”

Oh shit… was that… Sicheng’s voice?

“I was gonna tell him, but, like, I thought he would’ve picked up on it by now, I mean, Xuxi always said I was way too obvious...”

Oh hell no. His entire brain now screamed at him to run but his muscles had locked up. He shrunk in on himself and prayed to god they didn’t see him.

“You should’ve told one of us, it’s not healthy to keep things like that locked up. Xiaojun has always been kind of oblivious about these types of things, I mean, he genuinely looked surprised when Ten came out to him.”

Yup, that was Sicheng and Yangyang and Xiaojun was leaving.

Their conversation was cut off in the next second and his blood ran colder than he’d felt before, sending a body-seizing shiver down his spine.

He jumped up, but they’d already seen him.

“Xiaojun!” Sicheng yelled after him. His friend was in his face in the next second and had shoved him back down into the bench.

He fell back onto the bench with a dull thud, gripping at the armrest and scrambling to sit upright. “Fuck off, Sicheng,” he lashed out, heart kicking into overdrive. But he didn’t try to get up.

Yangyang’s eyes burned into him from behind Sicheng, but Xiaojun forced himself to stare down Sicheng and pay no mind to the younger.

“Is that how it works? ‘Fuck off, Sicheng’?” His voice had dropped threateningly low and his eyes were ablaze, trapping him with his body and eyes. “You leave for a week without a word and now you’re telling me to ‘fuck off’?”

“Sicheng, please…” Yangyang begged, looking away. “Not out here…”

Sicheng whipped around to face Yangyang then. “You sure?” His voice had pulled a complete one-eighty and switched as if he was talking to a sad puppy. Xiaojun looked away, crossing his arms and silently chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah, it’s fine, don’t- don’t worry about it,” Yangyang muttered, crossing his own arms and averting his eyes. He opened his mouth again, like he had more to say, but thought better of it and snapped his lips shut again.

Sicheng huffed and straightened, getting out of Xiaojun’s face and stepped back.

Then Yangyang opened his mouth again, chest rising high with a deep breath. His eyes wandered back to Xiaojun, who’d made a futile effort to sit up and look like he wasn’t a total mess.

“Xiaojun, can we, um, can we talk?” His voice sounded so small and unsure, empty without his natural peppiness.

His throat tightened and his heart was going wild. But he pressed his lips together, not trusting his voice, and nodded tersely.

Sicheng stepped back, approaching Yangyang and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, leaning in to whisper something into his ear before glaring over his shoulder at Xiaojun and walking off to give them privacy.

Yangyang stood, eyes darting around while shifting on his feet awkwardly. He kinda looked like he regretted asking to talk. Xiaojun just wanted to get it over with, hopefully not break Yangyang’s heart again, and then cry himself to sleep. Was that too much to ask for?

“Uh, hi,” Yangyang murmured, reaching up to wave shyly. Xiaojun kept his eyes focused on the ground in front of his feet.

He swallowed and sighed quietly. “You, um, you can sit if you want,” he offered quietly, waving his arm lazily at the space next to him.

Yangyang shuffled over, hands jammed into his pockets and slowly lowered himself next to Xiaojun, not close enough for it to be weird but far enough for it to feel awkward. He sat heavily, crossing his legs like Xiaojun had done and stared at the side of his face for a second before looking away.

“You wanted to talk?” Xiaojun murmured. He was past nervous and worried his heart would go into cardiac arrest. There was no way he was about to get up and leave Yangyang again, but he really didn’t want to go through this.

“Oh, yeah, but, uh, aren’t you cold?” Yangyang asked, leaning over and swinging his legs slightly.

Xiaojun shrugged and gave a small shake of his head.

“D-do, um, do you want my coat?”

He couldn’t help the rush of warmth that consumed his body but there was no way he was about to take Yangyang’s coat.

“But then you’d be cold,” he reasoned, absentmindedly kicking his heels into the dirt.

“O-oh… I mean, I’d give it to you if you wanted it…” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

“You, uh, you can keep your coat, it’s fine,” he insisted, stomach fluttering at Yangyang’s words. That sure felt like a sign of some sort.

“Uh, sure.”

A pause.

“I’m- I just want to tell you that I’m… I’m sorry. About what I said, I get it if you don’t wanna talk to me anymore or if you just don’t wanna ever see me again, I didn’t mean to hurt you and I just- it was a lot, I couldn’t not tell you but I there was no way that I could and… yeah, I just wanted to say sorry for ruining our friendship…” Yangyang, instead of looking away, faced Xiaojun, eyes locked on his friend.

There was so much flying through his mind he needed to take a minute to sort through it properly.

The silence between them stretched out, Yangyang’s shoulders gradually drooping and his gaze beginning to burn out.

“Please say something, Xiaojun…” Yangyang begged. “Please, just- anything. Say anything…”

“Why are you sorry?” He finally turned, surrendering himself to those twinkling eyes. They’d dulled since but weren’t as dark as the night at Kun’s.

He was sucked in again and for the first time, he let himself go completely, both hands up in the air. His heart crashed against his chest, the warm, fuzzy feeling took over every nerve in his being and it became a little harder to breathe properly. He didn’t know what it meant, but he did know it was the first time he’d ever felt something like it.

The implications were daunting and thrilling.

“I just- feel like you hate me now? I dunno…” he shrugged, eyes dropping to the space between them.

“Why, um, why would I hate you?” He asked, awed by the idea of hating someone so precious and so radiant.

“Just… you couldn’t like me back like that- well, obviously, I mean you said you weren’t gay but I mean, just, I guess I’m just the annoying, immature friend that’s too loud all the time and… and now maybe you’re offended I thought you were gay? I don’t know I just-”

“I-I could never hate you,” he interrupted, lips quirked up in a small, reassuring smile. But he didn’t elaborate on any of Yangyang’s other points, hoping they wouldn’t be brought up again.

He’d thought he was in the clear until Yangyang dropped the bomb he’d forgotten about.

“Then why’d you leave? Why’d you run away?”

He really needed to choose his words wisely here. He couldn’t lead Yangyang on, not while he was still very confused himself, but he didn’t need the guilt of hurting Yangyang crushing his chest for the following three days.

“I just… never saw it coming,” he tried, ripping his eyes from Yangyang’s. “I couldn’t really… process it, I guess? I- Listen,” he sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. Deep breaths. “I just kinda panicked. You were crying, I was crying, it was a mess and I panicked.” He exhaled loudly, a sense of relief flooding through him. “There, happy?”

Yangyang nodded, satisfied and relaxed a tad. “Yeah, thanks. I just thought for a second there you were homophobic or something…”

His nerves spiked. “No… I just… didn’t know you were gay…”

“Oh.” Yangyang looked genuinely perplexed like it had been the most obvious thing in the world. “I, well… I am gay, just-just to clarify.”

For whatever reason, Xiaojun found that to be the funniest shit he’d heard in over a week. He laughed out loud, head tilting back and body shaking with the force. “Yeah, I got that, thanks,” he chuckled, sitting up and turning back to Yangyang but only looking at his hands.

A small, confused noise pushed between Yangyang’s lips but he didn’t say anything more, turning himself to completely face Xiaojun, one leg folded and propped on the bench nd the other dangling off the end.

“So…” The younger trailed off awkwardly, clearly not expecting the conversation to have taken as little time as it had.

“I-if… you don’t l-like me back, that’s okay,” he drew out, turning his head away. “I’ll get over it, but I just… would like to know if I should start already or…?”

That had sounded dangerously like hope.

What should he say?

He opened his mouth but no words came out.

“I’m sorry- that- that was rude, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that, I just- shit, sorry, you can forget I asked that if you want or-” Yangyang sputtered after Xiaojun had evidently taken too long for it to be good.

“No, it- it’s fine, just-” he found himself saying before he could stop himself. Where did he go from there?

Asking himself if he liked Yangyang back would be a good spot, he figured.

Like was a subjective word, he evaded. Of course he liked Yangyang, the boy brought joy to the lives of everyone he met, that was just his kind of personality. In relation to Kun, he’d say he liked them around the same. Both made him happy and made him feel like he belonged.

But that wasn’t what Yangyang wanted to know.

Did he want to go out with Yangyang? Did he want to just cuddle late into the night, laughing while quietly exchanging stories? Did he ever want to just hold Yangyang’s hand, maybe press a gentle kiss to the boy’s knuckles? Did he feel curious to know what those pretty, pink lips felt like against his own?

The answer, when it ran over him like a sixteen wheeler barreling down a mountain, felt like he’d known all along, it had just been deeply buried in denial and magnificently disguised. All of the air was forced from his lungs and his heart jumped into his throat, stomach dropping like he was on a rollercoaster.

“Just…?” Yangyang prompted, desperately searching Xiaojun’s face

Deep breaths. “I- I don’t really, um, r-really know h-how to say it? I’ve- I thought a-about it a lot,” he breathed, mouth drying up. The way Yangyang nodded patiently, eyes straining and leaning forward to hear Xiaojun’s more clearly.

God this was impossible…

Deep breaths. “I-if… if I said I-I, dear god…” He groaned, hiding his face in his hands, stressed beyond belief.

“T-take you time,” Yangyang murmured, eyes glinting with apprehension and what was unmistakably hope.

Deep breaths.

“I think I like you too…” he whispered, voice hoarse and slowly saturating with tears. He’d said it. And he believed it too. He instantly felt better, all overhanging clouds fogging his mind evaporated with the light restored to his mood.

He dared to peak at Yangyang’s face. Flashing by he could barely pick out disbelief, exhilaration and bemusement jumbled with dozens of others.

“Y-you do?” Yangyang breathed, sliding across the gap between them to sit almost, but not actually, touching the older. “Y-you do?” His voice had become wet and high pitched, almost squeaky.

Xiaojun forced himself to raise his face from his hands. A flame ignited beneath his skin the second their eyes met and he could feel a deep blush spreading over his whole face. How hadn’t he been able to recognize his feelings earlier?

The irresistible urge to smile overpowered all other feelings. He felt much lighter. Finally seeing Yangyang after a week, he realized how much he’d actually missed the boy during their time apart. He felt unstoppable.

“Yeah,” he nodded vigorously though his tears, “I- I like you too…”

Yangyang let out a squeal of pure elation and dove onto Xiaojun, smothering the older in a hug. It was bone crushing, warm, electric and Xiaojun absolutely loved it.

They stayed, Xiaojun hugging as tight as humanly possible to absorb the feeling though his whole body and lock it away forever. When Yangyang pulled away, he suddenly shivered from the cold and his heart pouted.

They sat, legs touching, hands still resting on each other and just soaked in the moment, lost in each other’s eyes.

“Y-you really do?” Yangyang asked again, still in complete disbelief. Xiaojun laughed loudly, wiping at the building tears in his eyes and nodded furiously. “God, I- I just- I can’t believe it!”

Xiaojun laughed again, pulling Yangyang back into another hug.

He felt so happy. So complete. So weightless.

group chat: chinese babes

$cha-cheng$: anyone have a tab on Yangyang
$cha-cheng$: he disappeared
$cha-cheng$: SHIT XIAOJUN’S GONE TOO

Mom: You found Xiaojun???
Mom: I’ll be right there
Mom: Where are you??

$cha-cheng$: no
$cha-cheng$: fucking read
$cha-cheng$: i just said he’s gone

Mom: Don’t curse at me
Mom: Where are you??
Mom: Xiaojun hates running there’s no way he’s gotten far

10cm: sicheng what happened?

$cha-cheng$: yy and i were talking in the park
$cha-cheng$: then we saw xiaojun
$cha-cheng$: he was just,,, sitting
$cha-cheng$: and then i yelled at him
$cha-cheng$: and left them to talk when yy asked to have a word with him

chickHEN: y tf would u yell at him u dipshit

$cha-cheng$: i was mad!
$cha-cheng$: he died for a whole fucking week
$cha-cheng$: i didn’t know where he was or what he was doing i was so worried asshole

10cm: sicheng calm down

$cha-cheng$: hendery started it

chickHEN: go suck a dick

Mom: Boys cut it out now
Mom: Sicheng, start looking for them, maybe they’re together
Mom: Ten and I are on our way, we’ll keep an eye out as we go
Mom: Keep texting Yangyang, Xiaojun doesn’t have his phone on him

$cha-cheng$: ok

“My roommate shouldn’t be home,” Xiaojun mumbled, heart a spazzing mess and breathing erratic. He fumbled with his keys for a second before he finally got it in and twisted it, throwing the door open. He was right, both beds were empty and there was no sign of anyone having been in the room since the morning.

He took Yangyang’s hand without a thought, pulling him into his room and kicked the door closed, messily stepping out of his shoes and flopping onto his bed, yanking Yangyang on top of him.

Yangyang laughed brightly, caging his Xiaojun’s head with his arms and pressing his face into the other’s chest. They held each other for another minute, drawing out the feeling for as long as they possibly could.

Finally, Xiaojun gently pushed Yangyang off, rolling the other over so they laid side by side on the small bed, heads turned to face each other.

“A-are you my boyfriend now?” Xiaojun blurted out. Yangyang’s laugh rang through the room and he reached up, booping Xiaojun on the nose affectionately.

“I can be if you let me,” he giggled, snuggling closer to the older. “Will you let me be your boyfriend?”

He couldn’t find the air to form proper words and resorted to nodding eagerly, smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

“C-can I be your b-boyfriend?” He whispered with the little air he could suck in. Yangyang grinned just as broadly and nodded, capturing Xiaojun in another bear hug.

Their hands slowly drifted closer and closer until Yangyang linked his fingers with Xiaojun’s, pressing their palms together.

“M-my boyfriend,” he laughed breathlessly, eyes twinkling just as brightly as Yangyang’s.

After a few minutes, the full realization of what he’d done hit him with great force, blasting uncertainty through his body again.

“U-um…” Xiaojun began, thinking of how exactly he’d ask. “Wh-what now?”

Yangyang chuckled, grinning and shrugged. “We can go as slow or as fast as you’d like. I’m just- just so fucking happy…”

He exhaled, relieved. “C-can we, um, go slow? I- this is, like, n-new for m-me…” he breathed, squeezing Yangyang’s hand for reassurance.

Yangyang, his boyfriend - god his heart was beating so fast at the thought - nodded imediately. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. I’ll do everything in my power to make you as happy as possible!”

“Wh-what about you?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Yangyang’s eyes sparkled. “I’m happy whenever you’re happy.”

Xiaojun inched closer, wiggling his body until he was curled against Yangyang forehead pressed to his boyfriend’s chest. “C-can we… um, stay here? L-like this? For a while?”

“I’d love nothing more,” Yangyang murmured brightly, wrapping his smaller boyfriend in his arms and tucking his nose in Xiaojun’s fluffy hair.

“Xiaojun… Xiaojun, get up,” Yangyang purred next to his ear, gently shaking the older awake.

Xiaojun gave a disoriented noise and flopped onto his back, opening his eyes to meet the twinkling orbs he’d fallen so hard for. “Mm?”

“Everyone’s been texting me where I am,” he mumbled, flipping his phone to show Xiaojun. There were a plethora of texts sent from Kun, Ten, Sicheng and Hendery and Xiaojun could only imagine what his own phone looked like. “They think you abducted me,” he giggled, going back to slowly scrolling through the messages.

“I kinda did, huh,” he grinned. But he could. Because they were boyfriends. Heat crept up his face again. He didn’t think he’d ever get completely used to the term.

“Well, at least I’m not crying,” Yangyang joked lightheartedly.

“Stop!” Xiaojun whined, hiding his face. “I felt really bad about that!”

“I know, I know, I’m just teasing!”

“You’re so mean, why do I even like you?” He mumbled to himself. Yangyang just laughed, thumbs tapping rappidly against his screen.

“I just told them we went to your place, is that okay?”

A heaviness set over him. “Y-yeah, that’s fine, just… don’t- not about you and me and… not about us, yet?” He stuttered out. “I’m sorry, I’m still not… sure about the whole… g-gay… thing, I just don’t-”

“Hey,” his boyfriend soothed, eyes gentle, “if you’re not comfortable with coming out yet, that’s okay! We’ll get there in time, yeah?”

He nodded, rolling into Yangyang again, sucking up all of the warmth and energy the younger radiated. “Okay,” he agreed quietly.

Yangyang looked away from his phone to blink down at Xiaojun. “You’re so, so, so adorable, did you know that?”

Two bucks said, based on Yangyang’s huge grin, that his face had turned a nice, bright crimson. “I’m not cute,” he mumbed defiantly.

“Whatever you say, cutie pie,” Yangyang cooed, barely blocking a weak blow from Xiaojun’s open hand against his shoulder. “They wanna talk to us. Are you up for that?”

He shook his head quickly. Nope. The last people he wanted to see were his friends. Only Yangyang. He needed to make up for lost time.

“Okay, I told them you’re tired…”

“Tell them that if they want to catch a glimpse of my face I’ll be ransacking Hendery’s place for my coat and bag sometime in the evening under the cover of darkness.”

Yangyang raised a brow. “Why is your stuff at Hendery’s?”

“Same reason why I was in the park. It’s not a big deal,” he waved dismissively.

“Did… did something happen with Hendery?”

He flopped over to face Yangyang directly, searching for those eyes to put himself at ease. “You know how I check in on him, to help with his routine and stuff, right? I normally go three times a week, have been since last year, and always around the same time. He… uh, he came over last night just because I had a lot on my mind and he just sat with me, I told him a-about what was going through my head and… and then before I went over he invited fucking Kun and Ten, when he knew I’d be over and that I hadn’t talked to anyone except him!” His voice had raised to a borderline shout and he was upset all over again.

“I’d texted him because I trusted him the most to not tell anyone else until I was ready!” He fumed, clutching at his bed spread and glaring into the distance.

“Hey, calm down, I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt your trust or feelings,” Yangyang hushed, “but you’re right, he shouldn’t have done that, especially if he knew you weren’t ready and didn’t want anyone else to know.”

Xiaojun sighed heavily, letting the flames of his outrage extinguish with the breath. “Yeah, probably not but… it still hurt.”

Yangyang’s phone pinged, interrupting the moment. He gave an apologetic smile before opening it and going into his messages.

“Oh. They said they’ll be over soon…” he trailed off, face paling. “I-I’m sorry, I told them not to worry but they just-”

“It’s not your fault,” Xiaojun groaned, flopping back into his pillow. “Let them come, we can hide in the bathroom or maybe my roommate will be back to yell at them for me…”

Yangyang’s body dipped in the mattress and he shuffled closer to his boyfriend, cuddling up against him. “I can tell them not to come, if you want…”

“No. I need to do this at one point or another… better get it over with.”

“Right.”

A knock sounded at the door, as if cued by some foreign entity controlling the plot of this story, followed by hushed shouting.

“Do you want me to get it?” His boyfriend asked, moving to get up and answer the door.

“No, I should do it,” Xiaojun sighed, lugging himself to his feet and picked his way through the dorm to the door. He steeled his nerves and put his hand to the knob, twisting it before doubt could creep in.

Fuck.

Kun, Ten, Sicheng, Lucas, Renjun and Hendery really all just showed up at his door uninvited.

He pushed himself into the doorway, obscuring their view of Yangyang in a vein attempt to distract them from him, and offered a tight smile.

“First customer in line, how may I help you?”

Ten shoved his way to the front. “Xiaojun what the fuck was that stunt?”

“I’m going to need you to clarify, sir, I pulled many stunts.”

Ten blinked as the full truth set in. “Shit you did…”

“Well then what was that at Kun’s place, huh?” Renjun asked, pushing past Ten to get up in Xiaojun’s face.

“You’re gonna have to clarify that as well, much went down that night.”

“When you ran out crying, what happened with you and Yangyang?”

“Yeah, and what about you literally dying for a nearly a week?!”

“Is Yangyang okay??”

“And then you walked out on me, Ten and Hendery just a few hours ago?! I was worried sick!”

“How the fuck did you even get to the park and manage to kidnap Yangyang??”

The questions battered at his already weakened mind, threatening to cause him to shut down completely.

“GUYS!” Yangyang’s shout pierced above all of their loud, accusatory voices and he stormed up behind Xiaojun, glaring into the mass clustered by the door. “Give him some fucking space, he didn’t shut down for no reason! You all are so impatient, let him fucking breathe!”

Everyone’s mouths hung open and their eyes bulged at the sight of Yangyang’s furious face.

“You give him a chance to answer or you don’t get to ask your question, okay?!” He shouted into their faces.

Xiaojun swallowed and gave an awkward nod of agreement, refraining from patting Yangyang on the head because that would look suspicious.

Their friends slowly got over their shock and nodded too, apologizing quietly.

“Right then… you guys can come in if you want, I mean, my dorm is small and my roommate might be back soon…” He offered, opening the door all the way and stepping to the side. Yangyang stepped behind him, face as soft as a baby with a pleasant smile resting on his lips.

His friends filed in, filling the small room as they stood around, looking at the ceiling and walls and furniture.

“Uh, nice place you got here,” Sicheng commented offhandedly.

“Thanks,” Xiaojun mumbled, plopping down onto his bed and folding his legs under him to sit criss-cross.

Their eyes were trained on him and while some of their expressions were uneasy, they were obviously listening attentively for what he had to say.

Deep breaths.

“So. I, um, really owe you all an explanation… don’t I.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room, heads bobbing with slight nods.

“Well, I’ll only tell the important parts for now, I know you guys probably have places more important to be, so I’ll try to, um, keep it short for everyone’s sake.”

The room was silent, save for the rustling of Ten’s clothes as he lowered himself into a chair, dragging Hendery into his lap though his eyes never left Xiaojun.

“I still don’t know exactly why Yangyang was down in the dumps before Kun’s, I have an idea but that’s his part to tell,” he began, shooting a short grin his boyfriend’s way, “but I do know that whatever you all thought I did to make him sad, is wrong. And so at Kun’s, I was uncomfortable with being around him with all this buzz surrounding us and a run in we’d had just before told me something was off, so I tried to keep my distance. Um, clearly, that didn’t work out too well, seeing as we’re, uh, here now…

“Anyways, I’d bumped into him at the bathroom just before the food was served and we talked. I did not say anything that made him cry, though I had to ask if anything I had said before was the reason why he seemed to be avoiding me, to which he said no. The next thing I knew Ten had sent a text asking why Yangyang was crying in the bathroom and I panicked.

“I tried to talk to him, I really did, but he didn’t want to tell me so maybe it was my fault for pushing him. But, uh, eventually he did and when he did, I just kinda fell apart from the inside, y’know? When your world just seems like it’s gonna end no matter how absurd it might sound in the context of things? That was me. So I ran. I didn’t know how to handle it for shit, but the way I chose to definitely wasn’t the healthiest nor the best way so, um, I’m sorry I shut you guys out. For like a week. I’m really sorry about that.”

He looked around, surprised that no one had interrupted his retelling of the last few weeks which had probably been craziest in his life.

Their eyes were focused and they all nodded with understanding shading their faces.

Kun was the first to break the silence. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t reach out to us.”

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to scare you when we yelled, we’ve all just been really worried…” Hendery added, adjusting himself on Ten’s lap. “And for the record, they invited themselves over after I’d said you texted me, I didn’t do it to hurt you or anything,” he added hasitly.

“I appreciate that,” Xiaojun smirked, nodding. His life had taken a sharp turn in the dark where he hadn’t been able to see his hand in front of his face, but things were slowly brightening and clearing up.

The clock ticked still, the sun shone brilliantly as it journeyed through bright, blue sky, the clouds would continue to come and go, just like everything else that happened in life. Everything would be okay. His world was starting to come back together.

“Okay, but like, why don’t you like being called Dejun? You told me that was your full first name?” Yangyang pressed. He was sprawled over the floor of Xiaojun’s dorm room, his textbooks opened to random pages and his notes scattered around him to create the facade of studying hard, while in reality he was just goofing off yet again.

The final half of Xiaojun’s first semester as a sophomore had passed quickly in a blur of friends, work, projects, rain, sun, sleeping in, slaving until the sun rose, and most importantly, Yangyang. They were locked away in Xiaojun’s room, his roommate nowhere to be found as he’d finally gotten into a somewhat stable relationship and lived in his partner’s apartment most of the time, trying to study once again.

His own relationship had been very smoothly integrated into his regular life, considering they hung out a lot before getting together, and he’d been working up the courage to come out to their friends. Not as gay, as he’d told Yangyang, but maybe just ‘queer’ would work. Understandably, it was considered a slur if used by someone who didn’t identify as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, and he’d probably have to use ‘gay’ or another label when around others who were uncomfortable with the word, but after talking about it with Yangyang, he felt that ‘gay’ or ‘bisexual’ or even ‘pansexual’ felt too limiting to him. Queer, however, seemed to give him more freedom as he worked through his thoughts and feelings.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think his friends would accept them, hell, Sicheng had come out to them just weeks before as pansexual and polyamorous while also not-so-subtly dropping hints that he’d been eyeing two people in particular lately while Renjun had recently begun experimenting with they/them pronouns. No, he had no doubt his friends would unconditionally love him, it was just that he was still struggling to accept himself completely. He knew he liked Yangyang in the way that made him blush every time the younger dropped one of his supremely cheesy pickup lines and want to cuddle or hold his hand always, but there was still that slight block in his mind telling him that maybe he could be wrong and it was just a phase.

But there was a much bigger part, the happier, brighter, jollier part of him that told him yes, he liked boys.

Xiaojun leaned back in his wheely chair with a long sigh and returned to the moment, stretching his hands behind his head. “It’s not really important…”

“You kinda always tell everyone to ‘not fucking call me that’ anytime it’s said so it seems at least relatively important,” Yangyang pointed out, eyebrow raised challengingly.

Shit, he was right.

“Well… you know how I was bounced around in foster homes for a while before I got to stay in one until I graduated high school on a full ride here?”

“Yes, no need to flex.”

He chuckled, shaking his head endearingly at his cute boyfriend. “Yeah, well, those people took great joy in fostering kids in need and so there were maybe five other kids in the home. So they just called us by out last name and if we shared a last name or if it sounded similar to another, they tagged on a bit of our first name at the end. Thus, Xiaojun.”

Yangyang nodded, immersed in the story and studying forgotten. “Well this one boy, Kallen, or Smith, called me Dejun and was the only other person to call me Dejun for the years I spent there.”

This was where it got tricky. He didn’t like thinking about this part.

“U-uh, we grew close and one day he asked me if I wanted to run away with him. He said we could start a new life for ourselves, together. It had sounded fantastic. It, uh, had been junior or sophomore year and my grades weren’t perfect, so I’d thought, ‘fuck it, why not’ and we left together that night. But the excitement wore off after a day and I was soaked to the bone, hungry and scared. Then he’d told me that if we were gonna ever get married and grow old, this was the only way to do it.”

“What the fuck?”

“I, however,” he ignored Yangyang’s outburst, “had never thought of him like that, er, I mean, at least not consciously. Gay was still very… taboo for me and, uh, so I ran away from him and the last time someone really called me Dejun was, uh, when he yelled after me.”

“Shit,” Yangyang whispered. “I’m sorry, I had no idea…”

“Not your fault, I just never told anyone,” he shrugged, spinning back around and resuming his studying. “It's not a big deal to me anymore, now finish your studying, you still have that whole part on ecosystems and energy to cover,” he scolded as if nothing had happened.

Yangyang grumbled loudly, still in obvious shock from Xiaojun’s story.

“Xiaojun, am I special to you?”

He nearly choked trying to draw in air.

“Obviously? The fuck kinda question is that?” He asked, spinning around to face his boyfriend, hacking loudly.

Yangyang twirled his pencil absentmindedly in his hand and pursed his lips, shrugging uselessly. “I just… wanted to be the only one who calls you Dejun…”

He relaxed, relieved that it wasn’t an issue of Xiaojun refusing to hold his hand in public or go out with him to the gay bar. “I’d rather you not…”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t gonna,” he assured, rolling over and sitting up. “But I just wanted to, like, know I was special to you in some way…”

What was this kid playing at?

“Y-you’re my first b-boyfriend ever, if that helps,” he mumbled, cheeks reddening at the word. He didn’t miss Yangyang’s satisfied grin at the sight.

“Mmmm, but I’m not the first person you’ve dated ever, right?” He asked way too innocently for it to be good.

Xiaojun’s heart thundered. He gulped. “Y-yeah, you’re not…”

Yangyang’s sly smirk spread devilishly over his face and his eyes twinkled with mirth. “Mmm but I do remember very specifically one time you mentioned you’ve never been kissed before?”

Fucking. Hell. That’s where this had been going.

Nearly three months they’d been dating and Yangyang hadn’t ever pressed him once about kissing or going further than holding hands and cuddling.

And now he did.

While they were supposed to be studying.

Stupid kid. Stupid, cute, beautiful, funny, amazing kid.

He didn’t need to feel the heat taking over his face to know that he was bright red, Yangyang’s loud laughter let him know that.

“Aw, come on, Xiaojun, just a peck? Then I promise to get back to studying,” he bargained, puffing out his lower lip in a huge, doggy-eyed pout. Fuck, those eyes.

“W-why n-now?” He muttered, turning away to try and conceal his ever reddening face.

“Because then I can be your first kiss and get back to studying at the same time! Win win!”

“P-please don’t say Sicheng’s stupid ass gamer name if you’re really gonna kiss me,” Xiaojun groaned, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Wait- I can?!” Yangyang gasped, shooting up like a rocket.

He pranced across the short distance between them and leaned down into Xiaojun’s face without warning, resting his own hands on the armrests of Xiaojun’s chair.

“How would you like to do this, m’lady?” He giggled, eyes brighter than before and smile much wider.

Xiaojun swallowed hard, the depths of his bones and muscles zapped with nervousness and apprehension. He stared into Yangyang’s eyes and quickly licked his lips. “U-uh, I-I don’t r-really know?” He breathed.

Yangyang grinned down confidently and nodded. “You’re smaller,” he started, yanking Xiaojun up from his chair and flipping them around to sit himself in the chair, “so you can sit on my lap like this,” he added, pulling Xiaojun by the waist into his lap. Xiaojun’s thighs straddled over Yangyang’s and his knees bent, keeping him sitting in the fairly small chair.

He yelped loudly as he was pulled into Yangyang’s lap and struggled to control the bright blush that seemed perpetually painted over his cheeks and ears while also trying to find where to put his hands. This didn’t feel like they were just going in for a peck.

Yangyang smiled at him though and guided Xiaojun’s hands, planting them on his shoulders. “They don’t have to stay there,” he said, slowly letting his own hands slide up the sides of Xiaojun’s body, teasingly brushing his fingers over the fabric of his boyfriend’s sweatshirt.

Xiaojun felt tingles bolt down his spine at the intimate feeling and he shivered, making a soft giggle bubble past his boyfriend’s lips. He ducked his head shyly, grip flexing on Yangyang’s shoulders and muttered in flustered Chinese.

“I’ll lead, you just follow, okay?” Yangyang said, hands finally making their way up to cup the sides of Xiaojun’s ever warming face. Yangyang’s hands felt really soft and cool against his cheeks and he leaned into the touch. “Ooh, you’re blushing really hard,” he giggled.

“D-don’t make f-fun of me,” he stuttered, face only heating up more.

“Okay, okay,” Yangyang laughed, pulling Xiaojun’s face closer to his own. “God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long…” he murmured, awestruck.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Yangyang surged forward, pressing their lips together tenderly. Xiaojun’s eyes widened at the feeling but he let them flutter shut a second later as Yangyang carefully began to move his lips against Xiaojun’s.

Everything was on fire, his lips where Yangyang’s pressed against them, his face where Yangyang’s hands rested, his legs where they rested on top of Yangyang’s and his heart swelled with untrollable feelings of contentment and glee.

Yangyang carefully kissed Xiaojun, encouraging the older to follow his lead as he took full control. The effect of Yangyang’s pillowy, warm lips were instant, making Xiaojun’s fingers tremble, his stomach twist and stealing his breath away. He let himself kiss back, just as slowly as Yangyang had begun.

The sensation was addicting. He could do this all day. The way Yangyang confidently took over was a nice change in their dynamic which also really played with Xiaojun’s heart.

He hadn’t realized his lungs had been screaming for oxygen through the deafening booming of his heart. He pulled back and Yangyang complied immediately, letting his eyes open to gleam brightly.

Xiaojun gasped for air, leaning back in to rest his forehead against Yangyang’s as he quietly panted.

Yangyang grinned broadly. “I think I need my inhaler,” he breathed, still with that huge grin on his face.

Xiaojun frowned for a moment. “You have asthma?”

“Nope, but you just completely took my breath away,” he said, dead serious.

Xiaojun couldn’t talk around his indignant sputtering, face reaching a temperature where he feared his blood would actually boil away.

“Can I kiss you again?” Yangyang asked.

“I-I- if- if y-you, um, w-want,” he stuttered, studying as long forgotten as what he’d eaten for breakfast.

Without wasting another second, Yangyang recaptured his lips, picking up right where they’d left off.

Yangyang tilted his head this time, slotting their lips together perfectly and slowly began kissing in a more open-mouthed way against Xiaojun’s lips. Xiaojun did his best to keep up, still trying to handle the overload of sensations, and slowly began to copy Yangyang’s shift in style.

Yangyang let one of his hands wander up and tangle in Xiaojun’s hair, pulling gently at his soft locks. Xiaojun gasped embarrassingly loudly at the tingling that ran from his scalp down his spine, breaking the kiss for a second.

“Cute,” Yangyang mumbled, reconnecting them before Xiaojun could try to protest. He kept twining his fingers through Xiaojun’s fluffy locks, tangling and smoothing all while giving gentle tugs that kept Xiaojun breathless and shivering under his touch.

“A-ahh- Y-Yangyang,” he gasped at a particularly strong pull on his hair, grip tightening on Yangyang’s shoulders.

“Mmm, I’ll have to keep this in mind,” he teased, grinning through their kiss. He let his grip in Xiaojun’s hair loosen and began working Xiaojun’s mouth open with his lips.

Xiaojun felt confused at first until he felt the light brush of Yangyang’s tongue against his own. He slowly let his jaw slacken and his lips part wider, letting Yangyang’s tongue dart through their linked mouths.

It was a little slimy and clumsy, but it was fucking hot. Hearing Yangyang moan quietly at the taste and the feeling of their tongues swirling, just barely grazing teeth, while slowly working into the older’s mouth was enough to drive Xiaojun crazy.

Their breaths mixed and their tongues danced before Yangyang finally let Xiaojun up properly for air, drawing his tongue back into his own mouth and giving his boyfriend’s lower lip a quick nip before pulling away.

Xiaojun couldn’t think properly as he ran his tongue over his lips, still feeling the ghost of Yangyang’s lips pressing against him. His mind had been blown and his heart beat so fast it threatened to put him into cardiac arrest.

“Fuck, I’m so lucky,” Yangyang smiled, “you’re so gorgeous.”

“S-stop…” He whined, wiping at his slick lips. “I’m the lucky one to have such an amazing boyfriend.”

“That you are,” he laughed.

Xiaojun pouted and glared, though there was nothing but fondness in his eyes. “Get back to studying, rat.”