Archive of Our Own

Donghyuck is, in many ways, unattainable. Jaemin doesn’t know how to put it properly into words – isn’t sure that he’s capable of it. His best friend is unattainable, and Jaemin is destined to be in love with him until he just isn’t. He doesn’t know exactly when that’ll happen; maybe someday far in the future. Jaemin is apprehensive of that day, unsure of how to exist without loving Donghyuck. It’s become something of a personality trait of his in the way that it’s always Donghyuck and Jaemin, side by side, ready to take on the world.

They’re inseparable the way that best friends are.

They understand each other the way best friends do.

By Donghyuck’s side, Jaemin feels invincible, unrequited love be damned.

Even if he isn’t – invincible, that is.

“So – what do you say?” Donghyuck asks with a smile, leaning across the table. “I think it’ll be fun. We haven’t seen Mark in a while, right?”

“I was just hoping to stay home for New Years,” Jaemin answers honestly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have to head back to school pretty soon after.”

Frowning, Donghyuck leans backwards, arms crossed. “I know…”

“Do you want me to go that badly?”

“Kind of! I feel like I barely get to see you.” Huffing, he reaches out for Jaemin, who readily offers up his hands without hesitation. “It’ll be fun!”

Jaemin wavers. He knows it’ll be fun. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have fun. If anything, Jaemin spends more of his time wondering if joining the team in university was worth it or not. “… You want me to go that badly?”

“Please.”

“I’ll think about it. If I’m mostly packed to go back, I’ll go. If not, I’ll stay home. I can drive you if you want, though.” The coffee machine beeps and Jaemin pushes himself back from the table to pour them each a cup. Donghyuck places the milk and sugar on the table as Jaemin returns with two mugs. “I put less in yours. I brew it pretty strong.”

“I know you do,” Donghyuck replies with a roll of his eyes. “We’ve only been best friends for twelve years.”

Snorting, the steam from the coffee catches his eyes and he hums, watching it rise into the air. “You’re right.”

“If you’re not going, I won’t,” Donghyuck shrugs, pointedly looking away, “I’ll just crash at your place and we can celebrate here.”

“I wasn’t going to celebrate,” mutters Jaemin. He blows on his coffee, hesitating briefly before taking a sip. It’s too hot, but he’s too tired to care. “I was just going to sleep.”

“Oh.” Donghyuck’s eyes are thoughtful as he stirs the milk and sugar into his coffee, watching as the color fades to a light brown. “I’ll just sleep then, too.”

Shaking his head, Jaemin frowns. It’s only a small frown, but he can tell it gets his point across from the way Donghyuck sighs. “You want to go – I shouldn’t be the one to keep you in. You even said it yourself, we haven’t seen Mark in ages. It’ll be a fun party. I’m sure of it. You should go.”

“It won’t be fun without you, though.”

“It wouldn’t be fun with me, either. If you don’t want to go that badly, I won’t stop you from coming over. But I mean it. It’s going to be boring. We’re going to have dinner together as a family and then I’m probably going to watch some television before I head to bed.”

Donghyuck’s smile is infectious, and Jaemin finds himself smiling back without even realizing. “That’s fine. I don’t mind boring evenings, either, you know.”

Before Jaemin can say anything in response, his phone timer goes off. He fumbles around for the oven mitts before turning the machine off and pulling out the quiche they had made together when they woke up. His mother, as if on command, appears in the doorway, pulling her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. Shuffling over, she smiles before pressing a kiss to his cheek in a good morning greeting.

“Morning, Mrs. Na.”

“Good morning, Hyuckie,” she replies softly. She places her cheek to the top of his head before straightening up. “Your father and I are going grocery shopping later today, Jaemin. Is there anything that you want us to buy for you to take back to school?”

“I don’t think so… And I can get whatever I need when I get back down there. Thanks, though, mom.”

“Of course, honey.”

When Jaemin looks at his mother, he sees his best qualities. The qualities that are manifested in pools of love and happiness and joy. His father is the source of his dedication and commitment and dreams. Jaemin likes to think that he’s a culmination of everything wonderful about them – and some of the bad things, too. His recklessness and stubbornness come from them, as well. He chases his dreams without hesitation in a way that makes his parents shake their heads.

Jaemin thinks that he’s a mix of his mother and his father. Donghyuck, in a very Donghyuck-esque way, shakes his head whenever he says that. You’re Jaemin, he says with a smile, like Jaemin is supposed to understand what that means.

He doesn’t, but it feels like a compliment, so he takes it.

“There’s enough quiche for everyone, if you and dad want some, too.”

“I’m sure your father will have some when he wakes up. I’m stopping by the Lee’s to have breakfast with Mark’s mom before we go to the store.” Reaching up, she smooths down Jaemin’s hair. Her touch is gentle and Jaemin resists the urge to lean into it. “Whatever is left I’ll have for lunch. What are you two boys up to today?”

“I told Jaemin that we should walk around the mall!” Donghyuck beams as he leans forward, head propped in his hands. Jaemin thinks that his eyes are glowing. “It’s been a while since we’ve been home, right? I think it’ll be fun.”

“That sounds lovely. Drive safe if you two do end up going, then. And let us know if you won’t be home for dinner, Jaemin – or if you two are coming back for dinner, okay?”

“I will.”

“I should go get ready. Have a fun day, you two.” She pinches his ear before walking out of the kitchen with a smile.

When the sound of her steps have faded to whispers, Donghyuck whirls to face Jaemin. Only to meet his back while he cuts the quiche. “See! Your mom thought it was a good idea, too!”

“I didn’t think it was a bad idea, Hyuck. I just think it’ll be busy. That’s all.”

And there’ll be couples, thinks Jaemin. There will be more couples than Jaemin wants to deal with. He doesn’t consider himself a particularly bitter individual – if anything, he thinks he’s relatively optimistic given his circumstances. Happiness makes Jaemin happy. Constant reminders of the one thing Jaemin can’t have, however, eventually beats down on him.

He doesn’t think it’s asking for much, though he recognizes that asking for the world to stop being openly happy is selfish. So, he doesn’t say anything.

“We don’t have to go for long! After we walk around for a little bit, we can come back and play video games. What’s that one you’ve been into lately?”

“PUBG.” He places a plate in front of Donghyuck, who picks up his fork and immediately starts eating. “Though Jeno convinced me to start playing Overwatch again.”

His brow furrows as he swallows. “Jaemin, do you even study when we’re at school?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin replies, shrugging. “I just don’t sleep.”

Donghyuck’s eyes are bright as he laughs. “That much is obvious from the amount of coffee you drink. Didn’t your coach tell you to cut back after you made yourself super dehydrated from all the coffee you drank before practice one day?”

“You get a Charlie horse during practice once and suddenly coach has you limiting your caffeine intake.” Jaemin shakes his head. It’s not like he tried to sabotage himself or anything. “Though, I will admit that Charlie horse hurt. I think I asked Yukhei to cut my leg off.”

Thoughtful, Donghyuck nods. “You spend a lot of time with Yukhei Wong, don’t you?”

“Yeah. He’s probably my closest friend on the team other than Jeno. He’s such a mystery, though. I have no idea how he made it on the team when his free throws are, like, 0.01.”

“I did notice last season that he barely makes free throws despite almost being fouled out every game.”

“Yeah.” He flinches, thinking about how a missed free throw cost them a trip to the playoffs. “Coach asked me to practice with Yukhei more often, so if I’m not in the dorm, I’m probably in the gym with Yukhei practicing.”

Jaemin wants to help Yukhei, because Jaemin knows that he’s the key to their team’s success. He may not be the tallest center in their division, but Jaemin would argue that Yukhei is one of the smartest. His ability to see the entire court and work with his teammates is something that Jaemin admires and wishes he could execute nearly as well as a point guard. Communication is key, he knows, though Yukhei can read what his teammates are going to do.

It’s comforting on the court.

“Oh. Maybe I’ll bring you dinner if you go late. Just let me know.”

“I mean, that would kind of suck if you brought it for me and not Yukhei, don’t you think?”

“Yukhei isn’t my best friend,” Donghyuck corrects, pointing his fork at Jaemin. “Why would I bring a stranger dinner?”

“Because you’re big-hearted like that.”

“I don’t have a big enough wallet to do something that nice. Plus, I’m sure he has friend who’d do the same for him.”

Jaemin pauses to think before nodding. “Yeah, probably. He’s really close with Renjun Huang.”

“He’s close with Renjun? Talk about polar opposites.”

“I don’t think so. They’re both really intelligent, and they’re thoughtful in the same sort of way.” Wrinkling his nose, Jaemin nods. “Yeah. They’re more alike than I think you’d give them credit for on a first glance.”

“You’re close with Renjun Huang, too?”

“He and Jeno became friends last semester. And he’s close with Yukhei. So, yeah. By association. He’s pretty cool. Helped me with my anthropology papers this year. In fact, Renjun’s the whole reason I even passed… I think. That class was terrible. I barely paid attention.”

“Look at you, being all social and stuff, Jaemin Na. Who would’ve thought you were the same person from high school,” teases Donghyuck, spearing a piece of quiche. “I feel a bit nostalgic for the Jaemin you were. But I’m also really glad to see you branching out.”

“You’re still my best friend, though,” Jaemin says seriously.

“I would be offended if I weren’t.” Reaching out, Donghyuck pats the empty space in front of Jaemin’s plate. “That said – eat quick so we can get to the mall before it gets packed!”

Jaemin catches the basketball before freezing as he looks at Yukhei. He isn’t sure that he heard what Yukhei said correctly, though he stiffens anyways, smile frozen on his face. There are two options at this moment: Jaemin can either pretend he didn’t hear what Yukhei said, and laugh that awkward, painful laugh; or ask for clarification. Jaemin has done the former plenty of times, and every single time it’s landed him in an unfortunate predicament. He doesn’t really want an unfortunate predicament right now.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a nervous laugh. A middle ground. “Can you say that again?”

Yukhei grins and waves him off, hand gesture accompanied by an easy-going shrug. “My friend – he’s just interested in knowing if you were single? And I wasn’t actually sure? I told him I would ask you since, you know, I see you with Donghyuck all the time so, you know…”

“Oh.” He isn’t sure what to say, so he passes the ball back to Yukhei, expression thoughtful. He is single, but he also isn’t particularly comfortable with someone who’s not willing to approach him in person, nor is he actively looking for anyone – other than Donghyuck. “I’m single. But I guess I would’ve rather that they approached me, I guess.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” Yukhei replies with a grin. He shoots the ball, pumping his fist up and down when it makes it into the net. It’s a loud sound, and not as seamless as Jaemin wishes it was. Nonetheless, it’s a basket. “He’s a pretty nice guy. I think you’d like him enough if you met him – romantic or not, I guess.”

“Again, I think I’d rather meet him myself.”

Jaemin forces himself to relax, muscle by muscle, as he watches Yukhei shoot free throw after free throw. The idea of having a suitor is nothing new to him. He’s had plenty of people confess to him at this point in his life, regardless of how many times he’s had to reject people. Word gets around and yet Jaemin keeps proverbially breaking hearts. Donghyuck tells him that he shouldn’t act so surprised whenever someone does. Jaemin can’t help it, though – it’s not like he goes out of his way to actively impress anyone.

Except Donghyuck.

He’s the exception. He’s always the exception.

“Can I know his name?”

“Sure. His name’s Hyunjin Kim.”

Wracking his brain, Jaemin eventually shakes his head. The name isn’t even close to familiar, though he’s sure Donghyuck would tell him that they’ve met before. It’s safer to ask Yukhei, he realizes. “No clue. Did I have a class with him or something?”

“Nah,” Lucas says, pausing. “He and I passed by you that one time I saw you in the food court.”

“… Not ringing any bells,” Jaemin says with a shake of his head. “Sorry. I thought I would know your friends by now.”

“Friend is a, uh, loose term, really.” Frowning, Lucas shoots the ball, clicking his tongue in annoyance when it misses. He catches the ball that Jaemin passes to him, shooting again. It circles the rim before popping out and bouncing away from him. “We just had a few classes together and, so, sometimes we’ll hang out. I’d rather hang out with you, Renjun, and Jeno, but our schedules don’t always match up.”

“Yeah. I get that,” Jaemin replies, passing a basketball to Yukhei before strolling off to grab another one. “So, you mean to say that he’s more like an acquaintance?”

Yukhei is still frowning as he shoots the ball. Whatever façade he had is fading now, and Jaemin can read deeper into the situation. He’s not really liking what he’s seeing. “Yeah. Something like that. Just… friend is a little too… inaccurate.”

Jaemin gets it. The use of the word friend is loose – different for different people. Yukhei uses it to encompass a group of people that he tends to spend time with. Jaemin thinks that he falls into that category, though he hopes that he counts as more of a close friend or good friend than simply a friend. Yukhei is certainly a close friend to Jaemin after all the tireless evenings they’ve spent shooting free throws together.

“By the way… Are we all still on for the house party this weekend?” His voice breaks through Jaemin’s thoughts, who turns towards him in confusion. “House party. This weekend.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’m gonna try to drag Donghyuck along; it’s not really his scene, though.”

“Not really Renjun’s, either.” Yukhei is grinning as he shoots the ball, ignoring it as it bounces away from him. “I kinda force him to go by threatening idiotic behavior without his presence.”

“I should try that with Donghyuck – not that he would actually do anything. ‘Your stupidity is your own fault,’ he would tell me.” He shakes his head before shooting from the three-point line, making a satisfied noise when it swishes through the net without hitting the rim. “He’s been to one since we got here to university. Can’t blame him for thinking that one sucked, though I think a house party is low-key enough for him to feel comfortable.”

“I’m always amazed by your friendship. You two seem like complete opposites, and yet I don’t think I’ve met friends closer than you two.”

“Opposites attract?” Jaemin offers unhelpfully with a laugh. “We’ve known each other for a really long time. If we didn’t get along at this point, I’d be surprised. Plus, Donghyuck knows all my embarrassing secrets. It’s too risky to let him go.”

“I totally get that. My friend back home and I got together for New Years’ and we reminisced about our stupid days when we were in high school.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow in response as he presses his lips together in an attempt to hide his amusement. It fails miserably. “Why do I feel like you were one of those kids who snuck onto the roof of your high school during football games?”

“Because I was,” replies Yukhei with a loud laugh. “I’m not proud of that, really, but it happened. It’s in the past.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“And you didn’t?” Yukhei looks surprised and Jaemin surmises that he has every right to be with the way that Jaemin acts in university. “I’m not sure I believe that. Not even once?”

His head shake is a bit too vigorous as he shoots a free throw, stepping forward to catch the ball that bounces back in his direction. “No way. Donghyuck was in band, so I would always huddle up with him and the rest of the clarinet section during football games. I was practically a member of the band at that point. I even got to have some of the snacks they would bring for them while they sat in the bleachers.”

“Your band didn’t perform a halftime show every game?”

“Not a chance. We were a small school, Yukhei.” Jaemin’s face scrunches up as he laughs. “I also don’t think Donghyuck would’ve been in band if he had to do a half-time show every game. It was hard enough to convince him to go to the one or two games they did. Telling him to go to the half-time show practices? Even harder.”

“Huh. You two have really been friends for a while, huh?”

“Yeah. I know that there was a time that I didn’t know Hyuck – but that seems really far away, and I can barely remember those days, anyways. He calls me dramatic, but I just honestly can’t remember. We were that young. Some people have great memories when they’re kids. Mine sucked.”

“It still sucks,” calls a new voice from the doors to the gym. “I literally texted you fifteen times to open the doors for you, Nana. You’re lucky the girl at the front desk recognizes me.”

“Hyuck!”

“I brought you dinner. It might be a little cold now, seeing as it took so long for me to get in here.”

“Hey, Donghyuck.”

“Hi, Yukhei.” Donghyuck’s smile flattens as he holds the bag out to Jaemin who takes it gratefully. “It’s also pretty late. How much longer are you two going to practice?”

He glances at the gym’s clock – 9:59 PM. A cringe works its way through his body as he hears his mother’s voice echo in the back of his mind. It’s well past an acceptable time to be eating what would be called dinner. In fact, it’s closer towards being a midnight snack at this point. “Not much longer.”

“I’ll wait for you, then.”

“You can just go home, Hyuck. It’ll be boring for you.” Jaemin frowns as he watches Donghyuck drape his coat on the bleachers before settling down, phone in hand. Opening the bag, he pulls out the thermos, screwing the cap loose before taking a long sip of the soup. He can smell something else in the bag but saves it for later – he can always heat it up to eat while he works at his desk after shooting practice.

“Nah; it’s okay, Nana.” Donghyuck looks down at his phone before looking up with a big smile. “I don’t mind waiting if it’s not going to be that long. We’re headed to the same place, anyways.”

“… Okay. I’ll be up late tonight finishing some work. I can head to the library if you want to sleep when we get back.”

“It’s okay! I have some work I need to do when we get back, too.”

“… Donghyuck.” He frowns and Donghyuck waves him off. “You should finish your work early if you can.”

“It’s fine, Jaemin. It won’t take me long at all!”

Jaemin frowns before shaking his head. He knows it’s not worth arguing with Donghyuck – not when he’s just about as stubborn as Jaemin can be. When they fight, it can last for hours, and it’s not like Jaemin particularly wants to spend time arguing with him. Yukhei strikes him with a funny look before his expression relaxes and he smiles again.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen someone win an argument with you that fast.”

“Yeah, well,” Jaemin says with a shake of his head, “you’ve never had an argument with Donghyuck.”

“I heard that!”

“I hope you did!”

Hyunjin is nice enough, Jaemin decides. His smile is the kind that would sweep a weaker human off their feet. Jaemin is just too far gone for Donghyuck. And it’s not that Jaemin thinks that Hyunjin is unpleasant. It’s more like he’s the opposite of unpleasant to an unsettling degree – as if his niceness is fabricated. Jaemin resists the urge to frown when he thinks about it.

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck says, waving a hand in front of his face, “you’re spacing out again. Also, your mom texted me and told me to remind you that you’re supposed to call her in fifteen minutes.”

Blanching, he turns to Donghyuck with wide eyes, forlorn. “I forgot about a call with my mom?”

In that moment, Jaemin feels like the worst son in the entire world. He knows that his mother will forgive him. It’s just a phone call, and it’s not like it’s an emergency or anything. Jaemin still laments his forgetfulness as his schedule for the week rolls through his head like a scrolling image. He did schedule a call with his mom.

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy.” His hand is warm on Jaemin’s arm as he smiles. For what it’s worth, it does make Jaemin feel better. Donghyuck always does. Always has. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Jaemin is standing, chair grating against the floor as he pushes it back, tray in hand. “I should get going, then. It was really nice to meet you, Hyunjin. And I guess I’ll see you at practice later, Yukhei.”

“Yeah! See you!”

“It was really nice to meet you.” Jaemin tries not to dig too deep into the tone of his words.

“I’ll come with you,” Donghyuck says, picking up his own tray to follow Jaemin. “I need to grab something from our room before class, anyways.”

“Huh? Okay.”

Jaemin can’t help but smile at Donghyuck as he watches his best friend hurry off, movements thorough and methodical. It’s not like putting your tray and dishes away is an arduous task; it’s just that Donghyuck is careful and thoughtful whenever he does anything. Even the simplest of tasks become an ordeal with Donghyuck. Sometimes it’s exhausting, though, usually, Jaemin can find something fond about it. Jeno calls him a goner.

He wouldn’t disagree.

Donghyuck is frowning when he takes Jaemin’s tray and puts everything away. Shaking his head, he pouts in Jaemin’s direction. “You always drag your feet around whenever you’re not on the court!”

“I like to take life slowly. There’s no point in rushing through everything,” he reasons with a shrug. “You know how I am.”

“Right.” His expression is critical as they walk out of the cafeteria. Donghyuck is deep in thought as he waves his hands around, searching for the right words. “Hyunjin is… nice.”

“You have opinions.”

“… I do.”

“Care to share them?”

“Well,” he hesitates, rubbing his hands together before pressing his lips together, “I just… doesn’t he seem kind of… disingenuous? Do you know what I mean? Like… he’s nice… but it doesn’t feel like it would last?”

“I felt the same way. I wasn’t going to say anything, though.” Laughing, Jaemin shrugs.

“I don’t know if I’m just reading the situation wrong – maybe it’s just first meeting jitters?” He waves his hands around in a nonsensical pattern as they walk. The sun glints off the snow on the ground and Donghyuck squints. “But, I just… I tend to trust your opinion more.”

“Eh. Trust yourself sometimes, Hyuck. You have better judgement than you give yourself credit for.”

“… I guess…”

Donghyuck’s frown is telling; he’s an open book sometimes, particularly when he’s upset. He’s never been the best at hiding his negative feelings from Jaemin. Not that he’d never force Donghyuck to share anything he didn’t want to – not when Donghyuck would tell him eventually anyways. Jaemin knows that he can’t bank on Donghyuck telling him everything for the rest of their lives. Jaemin knows that there will be a point where there is pushing and pulling. Today is not that day.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Jaemin shouts, throwing his arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders, “Stop getting so down on yourself! I don’t know what’s going through your head, but you’re my best friend and I’m not about to let you get swallowed by your thoughts on your own. Your lack of self-confidence is something that we’ll work on this year.”

“What is it? The Year of Donghyuck?”

“It’s always the year of Donghyuck,” Jaemin says with a laugh, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, it is.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket before he can respond, and Jaemin smiles at the message from his mom. Phone calls with his mom are far and few between, though they keep him grounded. “Do you have time before class to talk with my mom for a bit? She wants to say hi.”

“We’ll see,” Donghyuck replies with a quiet frown. “Jungwoo asked if I wanted to grab coffee before class and didn’t respond after I said yes. I have no idea what his current status is.”

The name sounds vaguely familiar, though Jaemin can’t say that it’s one he’s cemented a face to. “Oh. Jungwoo?”

“Yeah; we were partnered for the first project of the semester and it turns out we get along pretty well.”

“We should all grab lunch sometime or something!”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says hesitantly, “though he’s pretty shy… I’ll ask him, but don’t be discouraged if he says no at first. He doesn’t hate socializing, per say… He just feels more comfortable around less people. That’s all.”

“I get that.” Jungwoo sounds like Donghyuck, so Jaemin has a feeling that he’ll like him. “Wait. Actually, speaking of social events: are you gonna come to the house party this weekend?” His smile drops as Donghyuck reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He didn’t expect Donghyuck to say yes, and Jaemin wonders if it’s a better idea to simply stay in for the weekend with him. “It’s okay if you don’t! I just know that Renjun doesn’t really enjoy them, either.”

Brow furrowed, Donghyuck stares at Jaemin critically. “Why does he go?”

“Renjun? Because Yukhei will do something stupid if he doesn’t, and the last thing he wants is for Yukhei to go viral for trying to jump off the roof and slide down the flagpole.” Cringing, Jaemin shakes his head. “It’s justified seeing as he did do that the last time Renjun wasn’t there.”

“He should just let Yukhei do stupid things, then.” Jaemin’s laugh makes Donghyuck frown. “What? I let you do stupid things, and everything turns out fine. I mean, within reason, right? I’m not – if you try to do something stupid that’ll harm you or someone else, then I’d try to stop you. I don’t think you would, though…”

“Yeah, I mean, I like to think that I wouldn’t do something that reckless…” Donghyuck grimaces in tandem with Jaemin. In the grand scheme of things, they both know Jaemin would undoubtedly do something stupid without Donghyuck weighing on his conscience. “Well… Maybe you should see if Renjun wants to hang out this weekend, instead. It’d be a good opportunity to get to know him, don’t you think?”

“… Yeah. Probably. Do you have his number? I’ll text him.”

“Yeah!” Jaemin says with a smile, holding out his hand. “Here. I’ll put it in your phone.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, of course. I’d like it for you to get to know Renjun! I really think that you’d get along really well.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow before scoffing. “Is that so?”

“Best friend intuition.” Jaemin is tapping the side of his head as he talks, grin big. He does think that, in this case, like many times before, his best friend intuition is correct. Donghyuck’s skepticism is rightfully earned, however. Jaemin has been wrong before, too. He thinks that, maybe, he’s been right as many times as he’s been wrong. He’s only human.

“… Right,” Donghyuck replies, drawing out the word. An audible example of his disbelief. “Anyways, we should hurry if you want to call your mom, right?”

“Oh? You weren’t just saying that because you didn’t like Hyunjin?” teases Jaemin.

“… No. Jaemin, you really have a phone call with your mom soon.”

“… I can’t believe I actually forgot, though…”

“Come on!”

Jaemin blinks slowly, counting backwards from five in his head. He thinks that, at zero, if he blinks, he’ll wake up. Except, he’s counted down from five about twenty times now, and it’s still not Donghyuck sitting across from him – instead it’s Hyunjin, who leans forward with a bright grin, talking about something that Jaemin, regardless of how nice he is, simply does not care about. He thinks that, if it were Donghyuck, he might care. But, Hyunjin isn’t Donghyuck.

“Sorry, what?”

“Oh, sorry! I talk pretty fast, don’t I?”

“Hello?”

“Hyuck.” Jaemin hopes he doesn’t sound as breathless as he feels, though he can’t really help it. And he knows that he’s staring, too. He can’t help that, either. “New look?”

“Do you see these dark circles, Nana? Look!” Donghyuck exclaims, pushing his glasses up on top of his head. “I look like a zombie.”

“A very handsome zombie,” Jaemin provides unhelpfully, sliding over in the booth and patting the empty space. Donghyuck’s glance towards the body across the table doesn’t go unnoticed to Jaemin, who beams as his best friend finally sits down. “You remember Hyunjin?”

“Yup. What’s up?”

“Nothing! I just saw Jaemin was sitting by himself, so I took it upon myself to be his company!”

Hyunjin is too chipper – Jaemin can see how it grates on the nerves of the usually docile Donghyuck who nods slowly before pressing his lips together. “Right. Sorry about that, Nana. The professor wanted to speak to me ab –”

“Is everything okay? Do you need tutoring? Are you feeling sick? Should we go to the clinic?”

“Nana.” Donghyuck places a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder, stopping his panicked ramblings. “He wanted to speak to me about doing an honors thesis with him. I did so well on my last exam and all – he was really impressed and wanted to know if I was considering doing an honors thesis instead of a capstone course.”

“What’d you say?”

“I scheduled a meeting with him. I’m not completely sure what exactly he works on, so I didn’t want to just jump headfirst into it, you know?”

“Oh! Hyunjin – Donghyuck here is a biochemistry major!” Jaemin grins as he reaches out to pat Donghyuck’s head. “He’s the whole reason I passed biology.”

“Biology for non-majors mind you,” interjects Donghyuck.

“Oh? You must be kinda ner – smart, then, huh?”

Jaemin feels his face twitch. He knows the word that Hyunjin was going for and he tries to settle himself as Donghyuck fakes a laugh, shaking his head no. Donghyuck speaks before Jaemin can say anything. “I’m not smart. I just work really hard, is all. It’s not much. Anyways, I should probably eat quicker.”

“Why?”

“I wanna nap before Renjun and I head into town,” Donghyuck answers easily, pausing to answer a text message. “You have class, and I have nothing better to do, so I figured I might as well do something. Renjun’s schedule is a lot like mine, so I figured he would have time to go with me.”

“Augh. I want to skip –”

“Do not. Your mom will have your head. And mine,” Donghyuck bites out with a frown. “Are you trying to get us both in trouble?”

“But you never go into town without me!”

“That’s a lie. I’ve gone into town several times with Jungwoo.”

“This is unfair, and I demand a recount.”

“A wh – I… Jaemin.” Donghyuck claps his hands together before spearing some pasta. It’s overcooked and he frowns as he chews thoughtfully, glancing at Hyunjin, then back at Jaemin. This continues for several seconds, his expression increasing in thoughtfulness before Jaemin can only assume he has come to a conclusion. It’s hard to tell, since he can’t really read whatever is going on in Donghyuck’s mind.

“What?”

“We’re here for an education. And life experience, too, I guess, but mostly an education. You better go to class or I will call your mom.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Donghyuck’s expression says otherwise and he waits until Jaemin deflates. “Fine…. I wasn’t gonna skip, anyways.”

“I know you weren’t. You’re just easy to rile up,” Donghyuck frowns at his uneaten lunch before standing, “so I can’t help it. Anyways… I should get going. I’ll ask Renjun if we can get something to eat in town. God, the food choices during lunch are abysmal. I don’t even know why I tried.”

“Hey, hey, hey! If it isn’t my favorite person in the whole entire world!” shouts Yukhei with a grin, throwing his arms around Donghyuck’s shoulders. “Oh, hey, Jaemin. Hyunjin.”

“Hey, Yukhei!” Donghyuck cheers, beaming.

“I hear you’re heading into town with Renjun today. Is that true?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Thanks for convincing him to get out of his dorm. I feel like if he isn’t watching over me, he’s watching Bob Ross again.” Yukhei’s face scrunches up as he takes the now unoccupied seat next to Jaemin.

“Don’t knock Bob Ross until you watch him, Yukhei,” warns Donghyuck, tutting. “It’s soothingly addicting. Trust me.”

“I’ll just take your word for it. Have fun, though! Don’t get into trouble!” Yukhei shouts.

“That’s what he should be saying to us,” mutters Jaemin under his breath.

Yukhei takes up space – unoccupied and occupied. Jaemin doesn’t really mind. His presence is something akin to a breath of fresh air. It’s stuffy and mildly uncomfortable without Donghyuck and, when he checks his phone, he realizes that his friend hadn’t been sitting there for longer than five minutes before he got up and left.

For as much space as Yukhei occupies, it still feels empty without Donghyuck.

“Hey, stop sulking. You spend almost all your free time with Donghyuck! Do your hate our company that much?” Yukhei asks, tearing off a piece of bread and shoving it in his mouth. “I think we’re pretty fun.”

“It’s not that you aren’t. I just haven’t seen him all day so far.”

“… Jaemin. It’s one in the afternoon. Also, I know for a fact you two had move night last night since you canceled on me for extra shooting practice,” Lucas’s words are punctuated with a stabbing motion, the fork coming precariously close to Jaemin’s face.

“The hot chocolate sealed the deal,” Jaemin replies casually. “All I wanted was a lazy night. Can you blame me?”

“Yeah! I can when we have a game this coming week and I want to get in extra practice,” Yukhei replies with a frown. “Can you blame me?”

“… Fair. We can practice tonight, if you want.” Yukhei says nothing in response, instead shooting him an unimpressed glance. In return, Jaemin is petulant, staring out the window. Their campus is full of slush, turned an ugly gray-brown from the salt and sand and traffic. “I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Hey, I’d rather be doing anything other than practicing shooting with you tonight, too, but I also want to win next game,” Yukhei says, pieces of bread flying towards Jaemin as he whips his hands around. “Renjun is actually coming to this game and it’ll be embarrassing if I can’t make at least one free throw before I’m benched for getting too many fouls.”

Jaemin pushes Yukhei’s hand down until the bread is safely placed back on a plate. “Why can’t we just work on you not getting as many fouls instead of making use of all the fouls? I think that’s a better investment of our time! Also, why is it important that Renjun is coming to this game?”

“Because he’s my boyfriend?”

“What.”

Yukhei presses his lips together before his expression becomes aghast. “Jaemin, don’t tell me….”

“… I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You didn’t know that they’re dating?” asks Hyunjin, eyes wide. “Seriously?”

“I mean, I get it – you’re so caught up with all the time you spend with Donghyuck and Jeno, aren’t you? Plus, it’s not like Renjun are really loud about it.” Yukhei pauses for a moment before his mouth hangs open. “Actually, now that I think about it, I feel like I haven’t seen Jeno in forever.”

“… Because you haven’t, ‘Hei. When Jeno’s not in class or at practice, he’s working in lab,” mutters Jaemin petulantly, moving his food around on the plate. It eventually becomes a disgusting, congealed mess that he pushes away from himself in favor of sighing. “He hasn’t even been on PUBG… I don’t have a friend to game with anymore. Donghyuck said he can’t get back into gaming until the semester is over.”

“I kn –”

“… Oh!” shouts Yukhei, cutting off Hyunjin, who shoots him a peeved glare. “Actually, one of Renjun’s friends is super into gaming. His name’s Chenle. I’ll have Renjun ask him if he’s looking for someone new to play with. Though, I gotta warn you – he’s pretty good. He might leave you in the dust if you play doubles.”

“That’s fine.” Jaemin waves a hand around lazily. It’s not like he’s trying to become a pro gamer, or anything. “I don’t really care. I just need someone else that I know on the servers.”

“I’ll let him know, then. But, when do you even have time to play?”

“Now you sound like Donghyuck. He’s always on me about studying instead of gaming. ‘You’d have better grades if you studied more,’ he always says. It’s not my fault the library is too quiet. It drives me insane.”

“Donghyuck doesn’t even study in the library. He studies in the studio art classrooms. Renjun says he used to see Donghyuck hanging out there even before we introduced them.”

“Huh. They really were meant to be friends, then, huh?”

“Indeed, they were.”

“Jaemin, this is Jungwoo! Jungwoo, Jaemin!” Donghyuck reaches out for their hands in order to clasp them together. Jungwoo’s smile is absolutely fake as he offers a limp handshake. Something about the situation feels vaguely familiar, and Jaemin is stuck in his head trying to figure it out as they stand in line for coffee.

Renjun, he thinks suddenly. Jungwoo’s behavior feels something like Renjun’s behavior towards him lately. Polite, but with an edge. Jaemin isn’t exactly sure what he’s done, though he surmises that they’re probably upset with him for hogging Donghyuck’s time which, he can’t help.

“Nana. Iced Americano?” asks Donghyuck, patting him on the arm.

“Please,” he groans, rubbing his temples.

Donghyuck pats him on the arm one more time, for comfort this round, before ordering their drinks.

Jaemin hopes that he’s hallucinating the awkward atmosphere between him and Jungwoo, though he chalks it up to discomfort. Renjun was much the same when they first spent time together, and Jaemin recognizes it as a protective mechanism in Renjun. Perhaps it’s too much to project a past experience on Jungwoo, but Jaemin does it anyways. For his own piece of mind.

Selfish? Perhaps. He doesn’t particularly care at the moment – not when Jungwoo has become someone important to Donghyuck.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jaemin offers, tentative.

Jungwoo sips his latte carefully before smiling. “Yeah! It’s nice to finally meet you, too! I’ve heard lots about you.”

“I hope only good things?”

“Glowing,” Jungwoo teases. “Seriously, though. It is nice to finally meet you. I’m sorry that I’m not really the most comfortable with strangers. It took me a while to even be comfortable with meeting Donghyuck outside of working on the project. I’m lucky that he’s so persuasive.”

“Tell me about it. I think Donghyuck’s the reason that he and I even became friends,” comments Jaemin, leaning his head on his hand as he looks over at his best friend.

Jaemin doesn’t actually think – he knows. Donghyuck is the reason that they’re friends. They can chalk some of it up to their parents, but, it’s largely Donghyuck’s doing. Donghyuck’s insistence of them being friends. Jaemin tells people that they’ve been friends for twelve years, but the reality is that they’ve been friends for much longer, forced to spend time in the playground together by their parents.

He’s glad that they did, though. That Donghyuck did. That Jaemin’s passiveness didn’t bite him in the ass because he was surrounded by people who pushed him towards happiness, even if he didn’t realize it at the time. Jaemin isn’t proud of being passive for the majority of his childhood.

“Understandable,” replies Jungwoo. “That’s his skill, isn’t it?”

Jaemin nods. “One of many.”

“Anyways, I’m curious! What should I know about you?”

Falling silent, he thinks. There isn’t much that he thinks anyone needs to know about him. “I’m on the basketball team?” he offers unhelpfully.

Jungwoo’s expression is unimpressed, and rightfully so, as he nods slowly. “… Anything else?”

The question is a loaded one, and Jaemin isn’t really sure what else he should say. His future aspirations? His short-term goals? Long-term? Jaemin thinks – for longer than he should need to, really, before settling on something. “I’m Donghyuck’s best friend.”

The smile that spreads across Jungwoo’s face is marginally more friendly as he laughs. Only marginally, though. It’s unsettling to Jaemin who attempts, and fails quite miserably, to laugh along. “And that I definitely knew.”

“I don’t really know what’s important to know about me,” admits Jaemin, clutching at the back of his neck. “I don’t think my major is all that important, and I don’t think my career goals are, either. Those sorts of things don’t define people, really. They’re just – you know. A thing.”

Jungwoo raises an eyebrow – an indication that he doesn’t know but pretends to anyways – before nodding. “Right. Well… what about hobbies? Outside of basketball.”

“Uh.” Turning to Donghyuck, he watches as his best friend rolls his eyes. It’s good-natured as he pats Jaemin on the shoulder. “I play video games. And I used to dance. I wasn’t any good! But it was a way to stay fit off season.”

“Oh? Why don’t you anymore?” He appears genuinely interested as he leans forward.

Beside him, Donghyuck’s hand squeezes his forearm. The reason isn’t particularly fond to either of them, so he sugarcoats it. “An injury,” he admits softly, “that made me choose where to invest my time.”

“I get that. Things happen.”

They sit in relative silence for the rest of their time in the café. Jaemin hates it. He knows that part of it is because of him – because of something that he did that he doesn’t know that has made Jungwoo unhappy with him. Jaemin is the first to admit his faults. Would be the first if he knew what he had done wrong.

It’s a relief when they decide it’s time to go, Donghyuck making promises to see Jungwoo again soon before pushing Jaemin towards the exit. Jaemin doesn’t think that he’s ever missed the outside as much as he did today. The air is fresher and it’s easier for him to breathe as he stands here, shoulders heaving and heart beating like he ran a marathon. Donghyuck looks up at Jaemin quietly, head tilted to the side as he waits for Jaemin to start walking.

“So… did you have fun?”

He isn’t sure if fun would be the right word. Exhilarating, perhaps, in the worst sort of way. It was twenty-minutes of a non-stop adrenaline rush, really. Twenty-minutes of suppressing his fight-or-flight response in an attempt to get to know someone who has become important to Donghyuck. Jaemin knows that he probably came off as an asshole, though he fails to see if he would’ve been able to change Jungwoo’s mind in the first place.

Jaemin decides, confidently, that fun is definitely not the right word.

“I don’t think Jungwoo liked me all that much,” Jaemin says thoughtfully.

Donghyuck links their arms with an easy-going smile. “Well, stop thinking, then!”

Jaemin blinks before shaking his head. No, there was definitely some animosity there. But Jungwoo is Donghyuck’s friend – someone he confides in – so Jaemin will be the last person to step on any toes.

“You’re right,” he replies with a tense smile.

“I’m just saying. It’s a little weird,” Jaemin argues, glancing to Donghyuck who shrugs in response. It’s like he’s not even listening. “Donghyuck, he’s, like, everywhere. It’s so weird. It’s uncomfortable. I hate it.”

“Then just ask him why he’s doing it.”

“Easier said than done.”

Donghyuck blinks – once, twice – before shaking his head. Jaemin is pretty sure that he hears Donghuck mutter, “You’re an absolute idiot,” under his breath, but forgoes interacting in favor of contemplating.

Hyunjin is everywhere. It’s an exaggeration, but not far from the truth, Jaemin surmises. It’s been bizarre, stepping into the gym with Donghyuck to see Hyunjin waiting with Yukhei; strolling into the cafeteria to eat with Yukhei, Donghyuck, and Renjun, just to see Hyunjin there. There’s something mildly unnerving, and Jaemin realizes that it’s because Hyunjin isn’t discrete. It’s obvious to Jaemin that he’s not there just to be friends.

Jaemin would be flattered if he were anyone else. But he’s not. He’s Jaemin Na – stupidly in love with his best friend and very uninterested in the thought of spending his time with anyone else. It’s just an additional strike for Hyunjin, in that Donghyuck seems wary of him, as well. There’s no real reason for Jaemin to say anything, though. Not when Hyunjin isn’t hurting anyone. As far as he can tell, anyways.

“How was coffee with Jungwoo yesterday?”

“It was,” Donghyuck hesitates for a moment, looking as if something were caught in his throat, before continuing, “good. I’m sorry he’s still not really that comfortable hanging out with you yet.”

“It’s fine!” Jaemin doesn’t mention how Jungwoo’s emotions leaned more towards hostility rather than shyness when they first met. “You can’t rush people into a friendship that they don’t want.”

“True.” Donghyuck pauses before he’s suddenly running forwards, barreling into a smaller body. “Renjun!”

“Hey, Hyuck.” There’s a pause, and Jaemin feels scrutinized before Renjun continues. “Jaemin.”

“Where’s the boyf – woah!” Donghyuck slips and Renjun is quick to catch him, frown deepening.

“Careful. We don’t want a repeat of this weekend, do we?”

Donghyuck’s nose scrunches up as he nods his head no. “That hurt pretty badly. I’d rather not.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing!”

“We went ice skating and Donghyuck fell on his ass. It was funny as hell, but it was less funny when Sungwoo skated by.” Renjun’s tone is smug as Donghyuck’s arm shoots out to link with Renjun’s. “What?”

“That was embarrassing. I don’t want to talk about that. I can’t believe that Sungwoo of all people had to be there. He graduated. What’s he even doing here? He’s Johnny’s age. He has to go.”

“Apparently he was just visiting to get transcripts sent for some applications and to visit his old advisor for some advice,” offers a new voice from behind Jaemin. “Hello.”

“Don’t hello me,” Jaemin bites out, pulling Jeno into a headlock, “you prick. Dodging my game invites when I see you’re online. ‘I’m too busy with research,’ my ass. Now I play games with this Chenle Zhong kid who does nothing but laugh at how much I absolutely suck.”

“I watched Chenle during one of those games. You really do suck,” Renjun says, flinching. “I think you’d be better suited to a different game. Like Tetris. Or Pac Man.”

“Those barely require any skill!” Jaemin argues, waving his free arm around. “Practice makes perfect!”

“PUBG isn’t like basketball,” Jeno mutters, pulling his head out from Jaemin’s grip. “If you suck, you probably suck. And if you’re spending all your free time practicing for no reason – especially when you should be studying – there’s no point to it.”

“… I thought we were friends.”

“We are. And friends are able to tell one another when they’re wasting their time. Right, Hyuck?”

“Only if he’ll listen. He doesn’t listen to me.”

“You just gotta crack the whip a little harder,” teases Jeno with a light elbow. “Anywho, I should jet on ahead. I have a meeting with my advisor in ten. I’ll see y’all around.”

“Yeah, right!” Jaemin shakes fist in the air after Jeno, who waves noncommittally over his shoulder before disappearing into the distance. “… I miss him already.”

“Actually, you two were basically attached at the hip last semester. What changed?” Donghyuck asks, peering at Jaemin carefully. “… Oh, no. Did you two get into a fight? Everything seemed okay over winter break!”

“What? No!” Jaemin’s hands are waving around as he shakes his head, “We aren’t fighting. Jeno just got a stern talking to by his advisor as soon as we got back. Something about not taking his major seriously or something like that. I’m not totally clear, but I think it has something to do with his performance in the class his advisor taught. Something about, ‘I expected more from you,’ or like that. You know?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck grimaces, “I totally get it. My advisor was the same way. Donghyuck, you’re not taking your major seriously enough, he had told me. It’s why I’ve been putting double time into working on my project when I get a chance. It’s not like I can do much, but, you know. I’m trying to do more.”

“We’re juniors. We still have a whole year ahead of us.”

“Yeah, but graduate school applications open in the fall,” Renjun scuffles his feet a little more before his steps become more assured, “and most job applications have their deadlines in January – the spring if they’re more lenient.  We’re only in our third year, but we’ve also got a huge list of things we have to address before we get back in the fall.”

“Right. Like, for graduate school, I need to take the GRE this summer. The latest I can take it is in October.”

“I should check the program requirements.”

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you since I, you know, met you,” Renjun says to Jaemin, eyes narrowed. “What do you want to do after we graduate.”

“Jaemin wants to go to nursing school,” interjects Donghyuck with a big grin. “He’s wanted to be a nurse since we were in middle school.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You don’t seem like you do.”

“I know. I get that a lot. ‘Jaemin, you really want to be a nurse? Why?’ Because I want to help people, but I really think that my strengths are in my ability to interact with people. I want to go beyond the whole treating and understanding illness. I want to help people, you know. Emotionally and physically. And I just feel that, as a nurse, I can do both.” When he turns to Renjun, he’s surprised to see he’s even more displeased. Jaemin thinks that it used to be easy to appease Renjun. Now it feels close to impossible. “What?”

“… I hate how you’re such a nice person. C’mon, Donghyuck. I want to go to the café in town. I’m craving their hot chocolate.”

“Oh? Okay!”

“I’ll come –”

“No. Go find Yukhei, or something. We’re going.”

“… Okay, bye?”

“I’ll see you for dinner!” Donghyuck shouts as he’s pulled away. “If you want to meet in town and get something that isn’t overcooked pasta, just let me know!”

“O-okay.”

A Jaemin left on his own is a Jaemin left to his own thoughts. Particularly his own thoughts that are anywhere from borderline to extremely troublesome. His own thoughts that just happen to circulate around Hyunjin. He hates how it’s not in his nature to just ask Hyunjin to stop, or at least make it clear that he isn’t interested. And Jaemin thinks that he’s being clear enough, though Donghyuck has told him time and time again that he isn’t.

You’re as straightforward as a winding road, Jaemin, Donghyuck had said. It’s a little annoying.

Jaemin can do it, he thinks, stomach sinking as he sees Yukhei and Hyunjin in the distance. He can be straightforward.

Donghyuck blinks. Jaemin counts twenty-four slow blinks before he leaves the room, toothbrush and facewash in hand. It’s fifteen minutes before he returns, sheet mask on his face, movements delicate as he places his toothbrush, toothpaste, and facewash in his caddy. He’s still silent and Jaemin, wisely, takes it as his cue to do the same. He didn’t expect a quick response. Donghyuck is, for all intents and purposes, a thinker. He’s careful and deliberate; thoughtful to the point that it can become troublesome, Jaemin surmises, spitting toothpaste foam into the sink.

Sometimes, Jaemin thinks he has his best friend all figured out until he realizes that he doesn’t.

The facewash’s subtle scent clears Jaemin’s mind as he silently lathers his face. The bathroom is devoid of people for the first time. He surmises that it’s probably since it’s a Saturday night at eleven and most people are partying. Jaemin is just trying to recover from their brutal basketball game. He knows that he’ll be sporting a nasty bruise on his side for a few weeks. It already feels sore.

His things are neatly tucked back into his caddy as he settles on the bed across from Donghyuck, who blindly waves a sheet mask in his general direction, attention focused solely on his phone. Jaemin takes it without hesitation, opening it and smoothing it onto his face while he waits for Donghyuck to look up at him.

Donghyuck’s expression is unreadable and Jaemin’s stomach drops.

“You are the biggest imbecile on this entire planet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No amount of I’m sorry’s can fix your mess.”

“I panicked.”

“Why can’t you just say no. You know, like a normal human.” Jaemin can see the veins on Donghyuck’s neck pulsating from stresses as he locks his phone screen and purses his lips. “You, Jaemin Na, are truly the biggest idiot. Your heart is too big, and you never learned how to say no. You need to say no. You could’ve just said no! Instead, here we are, trying to figure out a way to fix the mess you made earlier today.”

“He would’ve been crushed.”

“Jaemin, he was crushed regardless. You purposefully dodging him whenever he would hint at hit probably gave him some sort of hope, only for you to drop this on him, and, mind you, it’s all fake. I can’t even imagine how hurt he was. Yeah, he made me uncomfortable, and he wasn’t exactly the most genuine guy, but… it’s hard to cover up hurt so quickly. He’s good at it, I’m not gonna lie.”

“You’re defending him?” Jaemin’s jaw hangs as he stares at Donghyuck, who places his hands on his shoulders.

“Jaemin. My brother. My dude. My best friend in the entire world.” Jaemin feels his heart fall a little each time Donghyuck speaks. “You’re the biggest idiot, and you just broke Hyunjin’s heart. And this could’ve all been avoided – by that I mean you, getting yourself tangled up in this mess and Hyunjin’s feelings – if you were honest from the beginning. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Help me.”

“How.”

“Pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Jaemin immediately wishes that his brain had a normal filter in moments of panic, but it doesn’t. The timer on Donghyuck’s phone rings and he sighs, peeling the sheet mask off his face. Jaemin turns off the alarm while he waits for Donghyuck to return to the bed which he does, as slowly as possible. He looks deep in thought, before he pats Jaemin on the shoulder.

“Jaemin – best friend, love of my life, natural born idiot. I’m not helping you with this. You got yourself into this mess. You better get yourself out.”

“Donghyuck please,” Jaemin begs, reaching for his free hand, “I don’t ask for much –”

“You still owe me twenty-four dollars from that last time we went to McDonald’s at two in the morning –”

“I don’t ask for that much. Please, Donghyuck. I’ll do anything.”

“There’s nothing you can do. I don’t need anything from you. What I need is for someone to do my biochemistry homework for me, and you’re the last person I’d ask for that.”

“Ouch.”

“Jaemin, you spent four hours that you could’ve used to study in order to play PUBG. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“The truth… it hurts.” Donghyuck seems to soften the more they talk, so Jaemin pouts. “There isn’t anything I could do to get your help?”

“… Give me one good reason I should help you.”

“I won’t tell Sungwoo you had a big fat crush on him.”

“That’s old news. Next.”

Jaemin’s jaw hangs as he sits upright. “What do you mean, old news? Excuse me?”

“Like I said – old news. Next. Give me another reason. You’re wasting your time, Jaemin Na. I’m this close to heading to bed,” Donghyuck holds his finger and thumb so close together they’re almost touching. Jaemin feels himself panicking. He knows that Donghyuck really will stand up and leave the moment he deems Jaemin a lost cause.

“Give me – give me thirty minutes, and I will be ready with a whole PowerPoint of reasons why you should help me.”

“What? No –”

“Hang on! I need to grab my laptop from the living room!”

Jaemin doesn’t give Donghyuck the opportunity to object – he’s scrambling around, laptop charger trailing behind him as he returns with his laptop, blindly banging the plug against the wall until he finds the outlet. In the process, he flings his sheet mask towards the trash, where it just barely catches the rim. At the same time, his laptop whirs to life as Donghyuck stares at him, aghast. PowerPoint takes ages to load as he begins to furiously type.

He knows that the real first reason that Donghyuck should help him is that he will, anyways. It’s always been Donghyuck and Jaemin, Jaemin and Donghyuck. There are times when it’s not, though even then it is. Jaemin doesn’t know how to explain it, though it’s not like he’s going to put that on the presentation, anyways.

Donghyuck is fast asleep, propped up against the wall by the time Jaemin finishes, loudly clapping his hands together.

“Alright, so –”

“Fine.”

“I knew you’d cave!”

“I take it back.”

“Wait! Pretend I didn’t say anything!”

Donghyuck squints, staring at the laptop screen, before he holds up one finger, effectively killing whatever complaints sit heavy on Jaemin’s tongue. “I agree to this absolutely idiotic idea of yours, on the conditions that: This is temporary, we make up some stupid story that we’ve been dating for months now, and that we, uh, break up, in a few weeks.”

“You’ve got it!”

“… But, if any of this backfires, you’re immediately coming clean. I’ll own up to knowing about it, but you better own up to being a liar.”

“I’m not a liar – I’m just stretching the truth.”

“What truth?”

“You know, uh –”

“Jaemin. You’re single. There’s not even anyone you have on your mind. That’s not stretching the truth; that’s blatantly lying.” Donghyuck’s frown is deep and Jaemin feels guilty – it’s deep-seeded and it makes his toes curl as he rubs at his face. Jaemin feels guilty for many reasons.

The first is lying to Hyunjin. Jaemin doesn’t pride himself on how easy the lie came, either. He knows that Hyunjin deserves the truth. Jaemin also knows that he could’ve been honest: that he could’ve told Hyunjin that there’s someone that he likes. That’s the truth, but that would’ve led to the big reveal that he’s been lying to Donghyuck for the past several years about not liking anyone. Jaemin isn’t ready to open that can of worms just yet, either.

The second reason is for dragging Donghyuck into this mess. Jaemin recognizes that Donghyuck is helping him out of a sense of loyalty and the goodness in his heart, not because he thinks that Jaemin is right. If Jaemin could go back in time, he would change things. But that’s impossible, and the only way to go is forward. And there are a million more little things that have steadily piled up to make Jaemin’s guilt mountainous.

“I know.”

“Jaemin, you’re my best friend, so I’m telling you that, sometimes, you’re kind of stupid.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Don’t push your luck tonight, Nana. You’re not off the hook,” Donghyuck pokes his finger into Jaemin’s shoulder, “and we’ll discuss this more later. For now, I’m going to bed and you’re going to bed, and both of us are going to reflect on how stupid this whole situation is.”

“Okay.”

For all the guilt in the world, Jaemin still sleeps soundly.

“We need to put some rules into place, Nana,” Donghyuck says, pulling a notebook out of his backpack. Jaemin observes, untroubled, as he bites into his toast.

“… Why does this suspiciously look like the contract from To All The Boys I’ve Ever Loved?” Donghyuck seals his mouth shut, pointedly looking away. “Oh my God. Did you watch that movie for inspiration?” Jaemin leans forward, eyes wide. His best friend’s reluctance to meet his eyes speaks volumes. “You did.”

“Listen. The whole concept of fake dating is weird to me. The whole concept of dating in general is weird to me, really. Like, what do we gain? I mean, I might gain a few unpleasant interactions just because you’re relatively popular on campus, but other than that, I’ve recognized that there needs to be equal gains for both parties.” Donghyuck is scribbling as he talks, swatting away Jaemin’s hand every time he reaches out for the notepad. “That’s why I’m requesting that you and I go on ‘dates’ every weekend. They don’t have to be expensive or flashy, but I require that you buy me dinner every other date – every single date if you’re feeling generous. Which you should. I only deserve the best.”

“I fear you sometimes.”

Donghyuck’s eye roll shuts him up. “You should always fear me, Nana. I’m your best friend, after all!”

Jaemin doesn’t really understand the correlation, but he doesn’t put much effort into figuring it out. Instead he’s trying to read Donghyuck’s messy scrawl that would’ve been close to impossible for Jaemin to read if he hadn’t grown up with Donghyuck. It barely stays within the lines, though it’s considerably better than his own penmanship. He doesn’t have room to complain.

“Okay. First: hand holding. Everyone knows that the two of us are really fond of skinship. It would be weird if we didn’t.”

“Okay, then we should add PDA –”

“I actually have standards for myself, though.”

“… Ouch.”

“But, you’re right. PDA is pretty classic us. But, you already chase around your friends trying to kiss us all on the cheek. It’s nothing different,” Donghyuck waves a nonchalant hand before continuing, “I don’t think. So that’s just a given. The second one is the date clause – and I mean it, Nana. I’m really holding you to it. Equal gain for both of us. I’m helping you out, so you help me out. I was even generous.”

“Gee whiz, Hyuck. Only needing to pay every other date with your expensive taste will really save my wallet.”

Donghyuck taps the notebook with a grin. “Keep reading.”

“Okay, okay. Three: attend Donghyuck’s vocal recital.” Brow furrowing, Jaemin looks up. “I already do.”

“Keep reading, keep reading!”

“Ah. And I have to bring you flowers. Do they have to be a nice bouquet?”

“No. They can just be a single flower. Just be sure to get it from the flower shop in town. I don’t want some illegally collected lily from the quad.” Donghyuck’s nose scrunches and Jaemin suppresses a laugh. As if he would stoop that low.

Though, if the dates start to run him down, he might have to. That’s a problem for the Jaemin of the future.

“There aren’t many points. Four? The last one is just to make our breakup public?” Jaemin takes Donghyuck’s pen and puffs up his cheeks. “What do you mean by that?”

Waving his hand around, Donghyuck watches as Jaemin signs it. “Like, post it on social media and stuff – you know. The whole shebang.”

“Ah. I get it. Is there like, a deadline for that?”

“Not really. We’re not like those movies, you know? I know I saw a few weeks, but it’s not like this is gonna ruin our friendship or anything. We’re better than that. Plus, we’re just trying to get Hyunjin off your back, right? And, like, quiet the rumors that are floating around after your stupid stunt over the weekend.”

Donghyuck’s hot chocolate has gone cold – Jaemin can tell from the way his nose wrinkles while he drinks from the mug. There’s a mark left on the table, and Jaemin knows that there’s an explanation for why it dries the way it does. But Jaemin thinks there’s something poetic about the pigment and larger molecules all collecting towards the edges of what were formerly droplets of liquid.

It’s poetic. Somehow. Something about it is. Jeno would be better at voicing that, Jaemin thinks.

“What is this?” asks a new voice.

It’s almost as if Jaemin has the power to summon people with his mind. His mouth pulls into a frown as he pushes to the side to make room for Jeno. He hopes that he doesn’t.

“Hey, Jeno!”

“What’ve you got there, Hyuck?”

“A contract.” It sounds too loud in the silence of the empty cafeteria. Jaemin knows that there’s no risk; that it’s empty, save for a few bodies across the large area. It still sets him on edge anyways.

“Oh. You mean because of Jaemin’s stupid stunt from the other day, right?” Jeno’s laugh isn’t too loud, though isn’t all that soft, as he nods in understanding. “You’re too good of a person, agreeing to this. Jaemin better be paying you for your service.”

Donghyuck’s smile is coy as he nods, shoving the notebook in his backpack. “Oh, he is. Trust me. You think I’d let him get away without paying up?”

“Sometimes I think, wow, Donghyuck and Jeno are two really great friends and really great people. It would be fun to hang out with both of them at the same time! Then this happens and I’m reminded that when you two get together, you share the same brain waves or whatever and it becomes shit on Jaemin day.”

“It’s always shit on Jaemin day,” Jeno answers honestly. “Anyways, I should eat quick and head to the café to grab something to drink during class. You want anything, Jaemin?”

“Nah. I shouldn’t. I’ll be wired the entire day.”

“… Who are you and what did you do to my best friend?” asks Donghyuck, aghast. “You never turn down coffee. Are you okay?”

“Donghyuck. I’m on my fourth cup and we’ve only been here for half an hour. Yes, I’m okay. If I drink any more during class, I’m going to miss part of the lecture getting up to go to the bathroom,” grumbles Jaemin, sulking. “Last time that happened, our professor asked me if I was okay and needed an appointment at the health center. I had to explain to her that I drink too much coffee and then I got lectured.”

“Rightfully so. Your caffeine intake is staggering,” chimes in a new voice.

“Morning, Renjun!”

Renjun slides his tray onto the table, looking small and tired next to Donghyuck, whose eyes are bright and awake. “Hey, Hyuck. Jeno. Jaemin. How goes it this morning? Did you and Jaemin figure everything out?”

“We did.” Donghyuck’s nod is borderline aggressive as he turns towards Renjun. “Your input was good last night. Thank you.”

“I still think it’s a terrible fucking idea,” Renjun is muttering as he stabs his waffle. “Absolutely idiotic.”

“You told him?” Jaemin asks, aghast.

“You told Jeno.” Donghyuck’s comeback is immediate, as is the fork waved in his general direction.

“… Touché.”

“I figure it doesn’t hurt if someone else knows, right?” Donghyuck says, eyes wide. He talks animatedly – his hands flying around everywhere. Renjun dodges them like an expert, and Jaemin takes the time to revel in how well Renjun knows Donghyuck after a few weeks. It’s like they’d known each other for years. “Like, then we have people to talk to about it that’ll understand the situation, rather than keeping everyone in the dark and paying the consequences for that later.”

“Are you going to tell your other friend from back home?” asks Renjun, leaning his head on his hand. “What’s his name? Mark Lee?”

“Oh… We should definitely let Mark know, Nana. If we don’t, he’ll be pretty upset with us, I think.”

“I don’t want a lecture from him, too.”

“You definitely need to tell him, Hyuck,” Jeno says, shoving Jaemin’s face away. Jaemin groans in response, pointedly looking out of the window in petulance. “Let him know and have him lecture Jaemin. Kill two birds with one stone. Though, this stone is kind of more like a boulder, I guess.”

“A giant fucking boulder. Or, like, an avalanche. Like Jaemin was shouting or something and caused an avalanche.” Renjun’s analogy is more destructive, though Jaemin thinks that it isn’t that far off. Jaemin did cause an avalanche of sorts. He only hopes that he’s the only casualty from it.

Mark looks dumfounded. And Jaemin gets it – he really does. He can’t meet his friend’s gaze as Donghyuck does his best to describe the situation to Mark who, regardless of whether he understands it or not, doesn’t get it. He opens and closes his mouth several times before leaning back with a tired shake of his head.

“Sorry, I’m just… I knew that Jaemin was bad at saying no, but I didn’t know he was this bad.” His voice is tinny through the laptop speakers, but his words still cut as Jaemin groans, slumping in his seat.

Pressing his lips together, Jaemin winces. He’s often open to admitting his own faults, and he recognizes that this is one of his worst. “I know. I know, I know. I just should’ve just told him no.”

“Well,” Mark says after hesitating, “maybe this will be a good thing.”

“How so, Marko?” asks Donghyuck, eyes wide.

“Jaemin can see that there are consequences to his stupid actions.”

Donghyuck cackles as Jaemin whines, sliding further down his seat until he can’t see the laptop screen. “I think he’s already seen the consequences.”

“Oh?”

Jaemin grimaces again. He knows exactly what Donghyuck is referencing to. They had, just by chance, ran into Hyunjin while getting lunch one day. To say that it was an awkward meeting would be an understatement. Jaemin – and Donghyuck, by proxy – could tell that Hyunjin was wavering somewhere between believing his idiotic lie and calling Jaemin on his bluff. Jaemin is endlessly lucky that Donghyuck is quicker on his feet off the court, saving the situation by grabbing Jaemin’s hand, kissing him on the cheek, and peering at Hyunjin cautiously.

“Ah, so you two are really dating,” Hyunjin had muttered, peering at them carefully. “Yukhei had warned me, but I didn’t believe it.”

“What?”

Neither of them had been given a proper response – not when Hyunjin was walking by them before they could even completely process what he had said. Jaemin furrows his brow. He still hasn’t asked Yukhei about what Hyunjin had meant.

“Yeah, so, anyways,” Donghyuck says, waving his hand around and, in the process, breaking Jaemin out of his thoughts, “Jaemin got himself into a mess, so I’m helping him get out of it again.”

“I feel like that’s always how it goes with you two.” Mark laughs, throwing his head back. A voice in the background and he pauses, swearing under his breath. “Shit. I gotta go, guys.” Pausing, Mark’s smile becomes fond for the slightest of seconds. “And, thanks for keeping me in the loop.”

The video call ends, and they’re allowed to sit in silence for several seconds before Donghyuck is reaching over and pinching Jaemin’s sides while shouting, “You didn’t even say anything! This is your situation!”

Jaemin squirms in his seat to escape Donghyuck’s hands, shrieking as he falls out of his chair and onto the ground, hitting his head on the leg of his chair in the process. He’s left staring at the bottom of the table, squinting at the printed information that tells the name of the manufacturer and serial numbers. The chair beside him scrapes on the floor until Donghyuck is hunched beside him under the table, peering at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.”

“You’re always making sure I’m okay,” Jaemin says fondly, reaching out to pat Donghyuck on the knee. “And I appreciate it. But, I’m really okay. I know I did something stupid, and I’m just grateful that you agreed to help me out, even when you didn’t need to.”

Donghyuck is snorting as he shoves Jaemin to the side before also spreading out under the table. They feel five again – or at least Jaemin does. They link their hands together and Jaemin falls silent, all words lost to the steadily growing void that is his thought process. He’s sure that his hands are a little clammy, but Donghyuck holds on, steadfast. He always does. He always is.

“Sure, I didn’t need to,” whispers Donghyuck. Jaemin can just hear his voice over the humming of all the appliances in their apartment. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t. You’re my best friend, and I know you would’ve done the same for me if I asked. Our friendship is kind of based on us just doing increasingly dumb things, isn’t it?”

Jaemin laughs, loudly, nodding. “I suppose it is.”

“We’re a little stupid when it comes to this stuff, but I don’t think that matters. You just have a big heart, and so it makes it hard for you to say no. We’ll work on that, but I don’t think that there’s really any pressure for you to figure that out immediately.”

“I can’t tell if you’re consoling me, or reminding me about what a dumbass I am.”

“A little bit of both,” Donghyuck’s honesty cuts, “I think. But, mostly, I don’t know what else to say. We’re already in this situation, so there’s no use in wallowing and wondering what could’ve gone differently, you know. It’ll just ruin the atmosphere.”

Jaemin wrinkles his nose in response. “Yeah.”

“Hey! How about,” he’s sitting up now, wincing as he hits his head on the table, “we go on one of our mandatory dates tomorrow? It’s a Friday and we can go after your practice! That new restaurant opened in town, didn’t it? It’s just a ramen place, but I think it’d be pretty fun for us to go together, don’t you think?”

“Sure. And we can get bubble tea after if you want,” Jaemin offers, with a smile. His wingspan is long enough that he can reach up and rub Donghyuck’s head where it collided with the table. “Sound good?”

“Perfect,” replies Donghyuck as he carefully crawls out from under the table. “Anyways, did you ever figure out what Hyunjin meant the other day? About what Yukhei said?”

“Nah. I haven’t been able to catch Yukhei. He’s always with Renjun, and lately I feel like he isn’t my biggest fan, even if I’m not sure what I did wrong to earn that kind of response,” murmurs Jaemin, planting his feet on the ground and sliding his way out from under the table. He catches the tail-end of Donghyuck’s wince.

“I would hate to be on Renjun’s bad side.” Donghyuck’s voice lilts, cracking at the end, and Jaemin knows that he’s lying – that Donghyuck knows something that he doesn’t. It’s not in Jaemin’s nature to pry, though. He knows that Donghyuck will tell him whenever he’s ready. “Do you want some popcorn?”

“It’s like, ten at night. Shouldn’t we get ready for bed?”

“I mean, sure, we can. Or we can watch another episode of Sabrina,” Donghyuck offers teasingly, disappearing towards the kitchen. “Just one. And then we can go to bed.”

“We always say one episode, and then you stay awake for all of them and I pass out a third of the way through the first one.” Pouting, Jaemin sits up, ruffling his own hair. He’s a bit unsteady clambering to his feet, wrinkling his nose when he puts pressure on his ankle. Looking back towards Donghyuck, he can see the concern in his face. “Yeah. It’s acting up a little.”

“Jaemin…,” murmurs Donghyuck with a frown. “I thought you said you wouldn’t push it.”

“It’s fine! I’ve been going to the trainer and getting it taped and icing and everything. It’s why I’ve been getting back later than usual from practice.”

Donghyuck looks about to say something else before he closes his mouth and nods. “Okay.”

Plopping down in his chair, Jaemin tests his ankle out a little before sighing. He’ll need to be more careful about his ankle, he decides. As terrible as it is to be on Renjun’s bad side, Jaemin decides that it’s worse to be on Donghyuck’s.

“The ramen place, huh?” hums Donghyuck with a grin as he slides into the chair across from Jaemin. “How fancy. Do you have the money for this?”

Jaemin falls silent before pulling out his phone to check his banking app. He knows he does – he checked before they even walked into town, though Donghyuck’s question sets him on edge. “Yes. Yes, I do have enough.”

Reaching over the table, Donghyuck pats his hand. “Nana. I was kidding. I can always pay for myself.”

“What kind of date would I be, then?

“A good one,” Donghyuck answers honestly with a smile. “Anyways, you need to relax. We’re just gonna grab dinner, walk around town, and then we can go back home and finish watching that episode of Sabrina that you so rudely fell asleep on me during.”

Smiling, Jaemin leans back. “You know I didn’t mean to.”

“And then you woke up three hours later to play a round of PUBG with Jeno,” Donghyuck says, waving his hand with a forced frown on his face. “That was a really nice thing to wake up to.” Jaemin sheepishly raises his shoulders to his ears as Donghyuck plasters a blinding smile to their waiter. “Hi – oh! Yeji, hi.”

Jaemin watches the effort she puts in to closing her jaw and replacing her shocked expression with a smile. “Donghyuck! Jaemin! Hi! How are you guys? What can I get you guys to drink?”

“I think I’m okay with just water,” Donghyuck says, looking to Jaemin. “Nana?”

He nods, pressing his lips together to conceal his smile. “Just water is fine.”

“Alright. I’ll be right back with your drinks, unless you’re ready to order?” She stands, there, expectant, eyes wide and glinting with curiosity. And Jaemin gets it – it’s not like he was ever truly available, and perhaps them “dating” felt sudden. It’s a natural sort of curious that Jaemin is sure he would feel, too, if he were in Yeji’s shoes. But he isn’t.

Donghyuck peers down at the menu in his hands before looking at Jaemin, who bares his teeth in a sheepish grin. “I think we need a couple more minutes. Thanks, Yeji.” She pauses before walking away, and Donghyuck opens his menu again, slumping in his seat the moment she disappears into the back. “She wants to ask. I know she wants to ask. I’d rather she just tore the Band-Aid off.”

“Yeji’s just trying to be polite. I appreciate it,” Jaemin murmurs, eyes scanning the menu. He knows that he’s going to get the same thing that he always does; there’s no real point in looking at the menu other than to bide time until Yeji returns with her curious gaze.

It’s almost on cue as she appears, placing their glasses of water down on the table. “Straws?”

“We’re okay,” Donghyuck answers on reflex. “Thank you, though.”

“Well… are you two ready to order?” she asks, pulling her notebook and pen out of her apron. It’s very her Jaemin decides, down to the sleek design of the pen that Jaemin knows costs more than any pen in a restaurant should. Donghyuck nods, closing his menu as she smiles, blinding. “Awesome! What can I get you?”

“I’ll get the shoyu ramen! And could I possibly get extra pork belly? Jaemin is paying,” Donghyuck teases with a smile.

“Can do!” Yeji holds her hands out to take his menu before turning to Jaemin. “And for you?”

“Oh – I’ll get the miso ramen, please.” Jaemin is gentle as he hands over the menu, watching as Yeji furiously scribbles down their orders before smiling.

“Awesome! We’ll get those right in and they’ll be out as soon as possible!”

“Thanks, Yeji.”

They watch in silence as she disappears into the back once more before Donghyuck groans, shaking his head. Jaemin gets it. It’s bizarre, existing under the scrutinizing gaze of someone, particularly when their expression has changed so drastically. He’s sure that Yeji didn’t examine Donghyuck so closely before they started – fake, Jaemin reminds himself – dating.

Donghyuck reaches out, rolling his glass between his hands before wiping the condensation off onto his jeans. It’s accompanied by a nose scrunch that Jaemin can’t help but smile at.

“Should we just tell her we’re on a date? You and I both know she wants to ask,” Donghyuck says, leaning his head on his hand. “It’s a little weird, but it’ll be less weird than her staring at us like she’s trying to figure out a game of Minesweeper or something.”

Pushing down a laugh Jaemin smiles instead, mirroring Donghyuck’s action. “Alright. Though, I really do think that she knows we’re on a date, you know. She’s just realizing that the rumor that was going around on campus is true, is all.”

“Okay, but you never said who you were dating, did you? I think everyone started speculating who it was,” Donghyuck replies, shaking his head. “You said, and I quote, ‘Uh – I – I have a boyfriend,’ before doing a deadass sprint out of the gym. Which was, by the way, embarrassing to watch as your best friend.”

“And boyfriend.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow before shaking his head. “Case in point: you’re always embarrassing.”

“And yet you still spend time with me,” teases Jaemin, leaning back as Yeji returns with their food. “Thank you.”

“Thanks, Yeji,” Donghyuck says with a smile, adding, as an afterthought, “And yes, we are on a date.”

Her smile falters the slightest bit before it relaxes, and she rubs the back of her neck apologetically. “I… I didn’t want to outright ask, but after the basketball game and everything, I was just kind of curious… Everyone’s been wondering.”

Jaemin is smiling as he hums. “It’s okay to be curious. Plus, maybe we’ll get less people asking about it now that we’ve told you. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Yeji bows her head from a mix of embarrassment and shyness before nodding. “Yeah. Anyways, uh, enjoy your meal.”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck says, watching as she walks, a little quicker this time, to the back. “I wasn’t too forward, was I?”

“I think you were a little forward,” admits Jaemin, picking up his chopsticks, “but I don’t really think it was a bad thing. People would’ve asked us eventually, don’t you think? It’s better for it to come from us now, I guess.”

Falling silent, Donghyuck peers at Jaemin carefully before pressing his lips together. “I… didn’t ruin dinner, did I?”

Jaemin reaches out to pinch Donghyuck’s cheek. “Not at all.” Dinner could never be a disaster when it’s with you, Jaemin thinks.

Jeno plops down onto the ground, groaning as he cracks his back. Yukhei is too taken by the video game on the screen to offer anything in greeting other than a grunt and rapid jerk of his head. Jaemin is a little more receptive, grinning and saying, “Hey.”

“How’s fake dating Donghyuck going? Anything like the movies? Any grand epiphanies?”

“Fuck off.” Jaemin knocks his knee against Jeno’s shoulder, earning himself a laugh. “None at all. We’re basically the same – we just hang out more than usual and hold hands.”

“Really. Nothing?” Yukhei asks, breaking out of his trance as the race ends.

“By the way,” Jaemin says, reaching over to prod at Yukhei’s arm, “Hyunjin said something interesting the other day when we ran into him in the cafeteria. Something about you being right? What was that about?”

Yukhei’s smile is so fake that it makes Jeno cackle, slapping his thigh. “Well.”

“I’m listening.” Jaemin raises an eyebrow and watches as Yukhei fidgets. He doesn’t mean to come off as confrontational. Jaemin just knows that Donghyuck will be disappointed if he leaves without asking.

“I, uh, I kind of thought that you and Donghyuck were dating? And so, uh, I told Hyunjin good luck, but I’m pretty sure you’re taken. And he didn’t believe me, but I didn’t have any reason to doubt that you two were, and I was afraid it was just a commonly known fact, and I had just missed the memo and it was too far into our friendship for me to ask.” Laughing nervously, Yukhei rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh, in retrospect probably should’ve asked, but, like, you know… Anyways, I realized that I wasn’t out of the loop and you two just act like a couple when Hyunjin asked you out after that basketball game and Donghyuck almost laughed when you said you were in a relationship.”

“You’re totally valid,” interjects Jeno. “I thought they were dating for the longest time, too.”

“I mean! Donghyuck brings you dinner when we stay late to practice shooting, and you walk him to class and stuff! So, I just figured, you know… that’s what Renjun and I did when we started dating, so…”

“… Oh my God. How many people think that?”

“Most people. I know almost everyone on the basketball team did,” says Yukhei.

“Am I that obvious?”

“It’s oka – wait, what?”

Jaemin grabs Yukhei by the shoulders and shakes him before groaning, holding his head in his hands. “Am I that obvious that I’m in love with my best friend?”

Yukhei is spluttering as Jeno nods unsympathetically. “Yes. Yes, you are. I honestly have no idea whether Donghyuck is simply as oblivious as you, or he knows and pretends not to.”

“Donghyuck isn’t oblivious. If anything, he’s significantly more observant than I am.”

Jeno blinks slowly before shaking his head. “I think you’re both just stupid. Anyways, if you’re done spilling your guts, hand me the controller. I wanna get back to my campaign.”

Jaemin hands the controller to Jeno before sulking, settling back into the couch. He’s content to sulk for the rest of the evening, though he isn’t given the chance as Yukhei is shaking him by the shoulder. His eyes look mildly frantic, phone in his free hand as he blurts out, “You’re really in love with Donghyuck?”

“… Yeah. Why?”

“Oh my God.”

Before Jaemin can ask what’s going through Yukhei’s head, he’s on the phone, running out of Jeno’s room. “Weird.”

“Ignore him,” Jeno mutters, eyes trained on the televisions screen. Jaemin nods, settling back onto the couch and sinking into the cushions as he watches Jeno’s character sprint around on the screen.

Jaemin is grateful for Jeno’s friendship in a way that’s different from the way he’s grateful for Donghyuck’s. Donghyuck is a constant: a stable pillar in his life. Jeno is something of a drifter; a ranger, coming and going as he wishes. He’s not particularly held down to Jaemin for any other reason other than individual loyalty, which he’s grateful for.

It was by chance that they became friends, and Jaemin finds himself increasingly grateful of chance and randomness as days go by.

Success! is splayed across the screen, Jeno taking the time to turn towards Jaemin, blinking. “Yukhei’s just kinda weird that way. I wouldn’t think much of it. He and Renjun are good that way. I think they’re really on the same wavelength. Sort of like you and Donghyuck. Except, like, on a scarier level. Sometimes I think they’re, like, telepathic or something. Which would be really fucking cool, but terrifying.”

“Even if they’re not telepathic, I do think that they talk to one another using just a glance. Which is wild.”

“What do you mean wild?” Jeno’s expression is a mix of disbelief and disgust as he shakes his head, turning back to his game. “You and Donghyuck do the exact same thing.”

“… Do we?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Jeno pauses as the game starts, “maybe not as much as Yukhei and Renjun, but you two definitely do. Like, during lunch whenever I’ve joined you guys, you just kinda look at each other and know what’s going on in one another’s head when you talk.”

“Being childhood best friends will do that,” replies Jaemin with a laugh.

“Understandable.”

Jaemin leans forward, elbows digging into his knees as he peers down at Jeno. He realizes, rather belatedly into their friendship, that he doesn’t know much about Jeno – that Jeno is an enigma. “Do you have anyone that you’re close with, Jeno?”

Jeno pauses the game, deep in thought. He shrugs before starting to play again. “You, I think. And my cousin, Doyoung. I’m close to him mostly because he was the nicest one in my extended family. And I’m close with my mom, and my dad, and my siblings. I’m not lacking in emotional connections.”

Jaemin smiles when Jeno mentions him, nodding. “Yeah. You’re definitely not. And I’m sure that Yukhei considers you a good friend, too, you know.”

“I’m honored,” Jeno mutters with a grin. “Do you want to play with me? Or are you comfortable watching?”

“I’m comfortable watching. Thanks, though. I’m trying to play video games less. Donghyuck keeps scolding me for how much I play video games and how little I study. Which, he’s right. I didn’t do too great on my last exam.” Wincing, Jaemin turns his head towards his textbooks and laptop, abandoned on Jeno’s kitchen table. He knows that he should be using this time to study.

Jeno’s elbow collides with his knee, prompting him to look over. “I said, how are those dates with Donghyuck going?”

“They’re going, uh, well,” Jaemin replies softly.

If anything, they’re just more opportunities to spend time with Donghyuck, Jaemin thinks. Not that they don’t already spend endless time together. If anything, they spend too much time together, if evidenced by the way Donghyuck had frantically sprinted off to hang out with Jungwoo who had told Donghyuck that it had been a while since they had spent time together.

“Just well?” asks Jeno.

“I don’t know how else they could go.” Jaemin smiles, sliding to sit on the ground beside Jeno. “It’s just me spending time with my best friend.”

“You don’t wish that they were real dates?”

“Of course I do,” Jaemin murmurs, knocking his feet together. “This isn’t the way to ask him though, is it? There are a million other ways for me to confess to Donghyuck, and I know that this isn’t the way to do it. I’ll figure something out.”

“Oh. So, you already decided to confess?” Jeno sounds mildly surprised as he pauses the game to turn to face Jaemin. “That’s a new development.”

“Yeah. It’s new for me, too.” Jaemin wrinkles his nose as he stares at the pause menu, shrugging. “I spoke with Mark the other day – without Donghyuck – and he says that it’s about time. That, even if I’m content with being just a friend, it doesn’t mean that I have to keep everything to myself. And he says that Donghyuck deserves to know.”

Jeno grins, nodding his head. “This friend of yours sounds pretty knowledgeable.”

“Yeah. Mark is.”

Mark, Jaemin thinks, knows best. Usually. He’s hesitant to say always, but Mark knows best roughly seventy-five percent of the time. And that’s better than nothing.

The timeline for it all, however – that is within Jaemin’s power.

Jaemin reaches out for Donghyuck’s hand like it’s second nature, squeezing it when Donghyuck laughs. Winter has broken and his season is finally over – something of a disappointing end, Jaemin thinks, losing in the semi-finals to their rivals. Regardless, he looks forward to having free time again.

“You played well.” Donghyuck is smiling up and him as he leans over to press a kiss to Donghyuck’s temple.

“Thanks.”

Jaemin thinks – or, rather, realizes – that he’s become greedy. He knows that this must come to an end soon. It’s become too easy to pretend to be dating Donghyuck. He’s gotten used to holding Donghyuck’s hand and holding him when the wind blows a little too cold. Jaemin has gotten used to wandering into town with Donghyuck once a week – gotten used to spoiling Donghyuck the way that he’s always wanted to. Jaemin has become greedy because he’s not ready to let it go.

“What’re you hungry for?” Donghyuck peers up at him with wide eyes and Jaemin smiles. “What?”

“Nothing.” Shaking his head, Jaemin thinks carefully. What is he hungry for? “I don’t really know what I want to eat… Maybe a burger?”

“Why are you asking me?” Laughing, Donghyuck shakes his head as he tugs Jaemin along, back towards their dorm. “Let’s drop your stuff off, and then we can walk into town and figure it out.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They pass by Yukhei and Renjun on their way into town, stopping for a conversation that Jaemin can’t, for the life of him, remember. He’s sure that something about his lapse in memory will come back to bite him in the ass in the future. For now, though, Jaemin can’t bring himself to care. Jaemin is too focused on living in the present – observing the town around him, the storefronts that pique his interest. Donghyuck pulls him into several stores, their original mission forgotten.

“Look at this,” Donghyuck says, holding up a gourd painted to look like a goose. “Isn’t this nice? Do you think my mom would like this?”

“Won’t this be the fourth gourd-fowl that you’ve gifted her?” teases Jaemin, wrapping his arms around Donghyuck. “Are you sure you aren’t just buying them for yourself and just telling your mom that they’re a gift?” Donghyuck’s ears turn red and Jaemin laughs. “I thought so. Why don’t we look around more? I’m sure we can find something here.”

“What about these?” Donghyuck shuffles over to another table, freeing himself of Jaemin’s lax grasp. The towels in his hand are vibrant colors, swirling patterns dancing over the fabric. They’re nice, and Jaemin smiles. They’d fit well in Donghyuck’s family’s kitchen.

“I think your mom would like them – I think those are a good choice.” Donghyuck beams, and Jaemin can’t stop himself from pressing another kiss against his temple. “Stop buying yourself gourds.”

Giggling, Donghyuck shrugs before taking the tea towels to the register before rejoining with Jaemin, purchase secured in his hands. “I hope she likes them. I know she’s looking forward to me being home for a little bit.”

“For a little bit?”

“Oh! I just found out during your game,” Donghyuck says, taking Jaemin’s hand, “but, I got the internship for the summer! So, I’m not going to be home for the summer!”

“Oh.” Jaemin can’t help the frown that slips onto his face. It’s not that he isn’t happy for Donghyuck – if anything, he thinks that, once the disappointment of being alone for the summer wears off, he’ll be just as excited as Donghyuck. “So, I’ll be working at the grocery store back home without you this summer, huh?”

“Yeah.” His voice is soft before he beams, shrugging. “You can always take some time off to visit me in the city, you know. That would be fun! If you visit in the middle, I should know what cool things to do in the city, and we can spend a weekend just exploring and eating good food.”

“That sounds fun. I look forward to it.” Donghyuck can see through Jaemin’s hesitation as he squeezes his best friend’s hand to reassure him. Jaemin, in response, laughs. “I really do. Don’t give me that look.

“You’re not very good at hiding when you’re disappointed, you know,” teases Donghyuck, pulling Jaemin towards the diner in town. “Maybe finally getting some food will lift your spirits. Maybe you’re just hangry. Hangry? What’s hangry and upset? Hupset?”

Jaemin laughs, shaking his head. “Hupset?”

“Yeah! You’re hungry and you’re upset. Which I, like, totally get. Jungwoo and Renjun always say that I get moody when I’m hungry.” Donghyuck raises two fingers when the hostess asks how many before pulling Jaemin along to follow her to a booth in the backroom. “Hi, Tzuyu. Business slow today?”

“Hey, Hyuck. Yeah, kind of. I’m figuring that it’ll pick up again tonight after midnight when people start to wander from campus parties for some greasy food.” Placing the menus down on the table, she shakes her head tiredly. “Thanks for helping me with my part of the presentation, by the way. I’m so sorry about that.”

“What? Why! It’s not a big deal at all! I was happy to help, you know. You work these crazy hours here and you work a second job on campus. I totally get it. If you ever need me to help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks, Hyuck. Can I get you two anything to drink?”

“I’m fine with just water,” Jaemin replies softly.

“Can I get root beer?”

“Sure thing. A water and a root beer.” Tzuyu taps the table with her hand before smiling. It’s a bit muted, though Jaemin doesn’t think it muddles the kindness that she exudes. “Chaeyoung will be over to take your order.” She’s quiet as she walks away from the table, Jaemin amazed at how her steps don’t make a sound in the silent diner.

“That’s Tzuyu Chou. She’s super nice! We worked on a group project together. She works two job to try to help pay for her tuition.” Donghyuck leans his head on his hand as he sighs. “I want to hang out with her more, but she’s always either working or studying. Which I totally understand! I just wish our schedules aligned better.”

“We can stop by and eat here more often,” offers Jaemin with a smile. “I’m sure she’d appreciate friendly faces who aren’t being obnoxious once in a while.”

Donghyuck claps his hands together in excitement. “Yeah! We can invite Jungwoo and Renjun, too! Which means that Yukhei will come along too, then!”

“Sounds perfect,” Jaemin replies softly.

Jaemin isn’t sure when it’ll happen, or what the state of everything will be then. He’s hesitant to make any assumptions with how far in the future these things will probably happen. It doesn’t matter, though, he supposes, seeing as all he hopes is for is that Donghyuck will still be in his life.

Jaemin is, to put it lightly, miserable. He’s absolutely sure that his ankle is swollen to two times its normal size. Donghyuck is sprawled on the end of the bed, Jaemin’s foot propped up on a pillow that sits in his lap. The air is tense, and Jaemin realizes that this is largely a byproduct of his own stupidity: the excitement of the dry season ending overwhelming him and shattering his inhibitions. He’s lucky that Donghyuck had picked up the phone.

“Now, Jaemin. Do you want to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to jump off a table?” asks Donghyuck, terse.

“… I wasn’t thinking,” Jaemin answers honestly. He flinches as Donghyuck seethes in his direction, nostrils flaring in anger. Jaemin has seen Donghyuck angry. He’s getting there. “I know. It was stupid. I’m stupid.”

“Yeah! You’re an absolute idiot, Jaemin!“ shouts Donghyuck with a frown. “I know you weren’t thinking, because if you were, you wouldn’t have made your ankle worse. I’m angry enough that you lied about the pain going away to the trainer. And, just when I was started to feel relieved because the season was over, you go and make it worse by thinking, hey, I’m not invincible, but I’m gonna jump off this table while not completely sober anyways!”

Flinching, Jaemin pulls the blanket up higher to cover his nose. “Sorry.”

Donghyuck eyes Jaemin’s phone that lights up on his bedside table. He doesn’t glance at it, waiting for Donghyuck to look back at him. They maintain eye contact until he realizes that Jaemin doesn’t intend on picking it up. “Is Jeno stopping by later?”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m little frustrated with you right now, Jaemin, so I think I need to go cool down. Renjun, Jungwoo, and I are going to walk into town for the afternoon.” Despite his tone, Donghyuck is delicate as he worms his way off the bed. “I recommend you inviting Jeno or Yukhei over. Or play some video games with that online friend of yours – Chenle, is it? Just don’t get out of bed. I’m sure they’ll bring you food if you get hungry.”

“… Okay.”

“I’m not going to be mad for forever, Jaemin. I promise. I’m just a little frustrated right now and so I need to cool down before I say something I don’t want to.” Donghyuck smooths down Jaemin’s hair before sighing gently. “You’re frustrating, Nana. Sometimes I think I care about you too much.”

“Impossible.” Snorting, Jaemin moves his head to dodge Donghyuck’s flick.

He looks hesitant to move away despite his aggravation. Jaemin knows that the longer Donghyuck is away from him, the more he’ll be able to reflect on how absolutely idiotic Jaemin was. Not that he already hasn’t. His own phone rings and he doesn’t hesitate to answer it, reading the message before sighing. “Renjun is waiting outside our door, and he says that Yukhei tagged along. I’m going to let Yukhei in so you have company, okay?”

“… Okay,” whispers Jaemin into his blanket.

Donghyuck shakes his head tiredly before laughing. “Stop sulking, Nana. I’ll be back later. Yukhei will be good company for you.” Jaemin doesn’t say anything else, watching as Donghyuck leaves his room. Voices are muddled as they travel over from the door, before it is swung open and Yukhei appears, bags of food in his arms.

“Okay, so! I know you have a super big sweet-tooth, so I went and got all the candies that Donghyuck said that you really like! I also got strawberry milk, cold brew coffee, and some chips and stuff if you get sick of sweet things!” Yukhei is reorganizing his desk as he talks before dumping the bags out on his desk. The sound of the wrappers and bags are loud, crinkling sounds grating to Jaemin’s ears. He squints until they stop and Yukhei whips around to face him with a bright grin. “So… what first?”

“Uh…”

“Here, I’ll just bring a few over and we can eat them all. I also brought my laptop!” His arms are full as he shuffles over, depositing everyone on Jaemin’s lap. His actions are gentle but lack a sort of grace that he thinks anyone else would have. There’s nothing wrong with it, though. It’s very… him. “I figured that we could watch something! Since, you know, you’re kind of stuck in bed and all.”

Jaemin appreciates how much Lucas is trying. His friendship is something that Jaemin was mildly unsure of until recently. There’s something fiercely loyal and courageous about Yukhei that Jaemin has come to truly enjoy and embrace through the countless evenings they spent practicing free throws. Yukhei is unique in a way that all people are but is also so Yukhei. He’s like best parts of every person that Jaemin has ever met.

“Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Yukhei replies, opening his laptop, “I really, really thought that Zootopia would be fun…” He looks hesitant and Jaemin grins, scooting over in bed, patting the now empty space.

“I promise my stupidity isn’t contagious.”

Yukhei’s laugh is low and deep, full of kindness. He plops into the bed beside Jaemin, careful not to jostle his ankle, as he pulls up the movie on his laptop. “I mean, yours isn’t, but mine might be. I don’t know if you remember, but I called Renjun in a panic when you hurt your ankle, and he was yelling at me about how I had convinced you to do something stupid.”

“No. I just think I’m invincible sometimes, even when I’m not.” Jaemin’s voice sounds small as he peers out through the crack between the shade and his window. The sun is bright outside. “It really pisses Donghyuck off, I think.”

Wincing, Yukhei nods. “Yeah. But I get it though. Like, dude. From the way you were screaming, I really thought you broke your leg or something.”

Jaemin frowns. He can imagine. He vaguely remembers the video from high school – the game that fucked his ankle up for good. If he thinks about it, he can still hear the audio; hear Donghyuck screaming. Hear his own. “I don’t like to think about it.”

“Then let’s not! Let’s watch Zootopia, and get sick from eating too much candy,” Yukhei says, gently elbowing Jaemin. “Donghyuck is just angry because he was afraid. That’s all.”

“I know,” replies Jaemin softly.

The movie is a pleasant distraction, and Jaemin welcomes it, apologizing for the break they need to take for him to hobble to the use the bathroom and rummage around for painkillers. He eventually finds them as he’s washing his hands, perched beside the faucet. They’re shoved into his pocket as he hops back into his room where Yukhei waits, scrolling through his phone before furiously typing.

“Hey. Do you need something to drink with that?”

“Huh? Nah. I’ll just swallow them –”

“No! No, no, no. You should never dry-swallow pills. Let me go grab you some water. Sit back down and I’ll be right back.” Yukhei carefully circumvents around Jaemin, who stands in the doorway, blinking, as he almost immediately returns with a water bottle. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Yukhei unpauses the movie and Jaemin blinks, eyelids heavy. Reaching for a Starburst, he chews, determined to stay away. Jaemin doesn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he wakes up, the lights are off and voices gently float into his room. He can’t really hear what they’re saying, but he recognizes their voices as Jeno, Yukhei, Donghyuck, and Renjun. If it were important, they would tell him.

“Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

The silence is oppressive, and Jaemin fidgets, uncomfortable. Donghyuck doesn’t meet Jaemin’s gaze as he eats his breakfast, gaze trained determinedly on his phone that pings every so often. Jaemin isn’t sure how to propel conversation forward so, for the first time in many years, he feels at a loss for words. The last time, he thinks, that they weren’t able to hold a conversation, was when they fought. Jaemin remembers those days with a frown and hesitation.

“Is everything,” Jaemin hesitates, voice heightening in pitch as he speaks, “okay?”

Glancing up from his phone, Donghyuck nods. “Everything is okay.”

Jaemin frowns. Donghyuck’s tone is flat and lacks life. He struggles to interpret whether Donghyuck is angry or tired. Jaemin leans towards the former. “I don’t think it is. Ever since I hurt my ankle it’s been…” Hesitation. “Never mind.”

“We should talk later,” Donghyuck replies, stacking his plates. “I’m grabbing coffee with Jungwoo. But, let’s talk later, okay?”

Jaemin isn’t given an opportunity to confirm or deny as Donghyuck gathers his things and walks away. He watches as his best friend walks out of the cafeteria, long out of sight by the time Jaemin is brought to his senses, Yukhei sitting across from him with a sympathetic smile. Jaemin can’t bring himself to say anything, content to stay quiet for now. Yukhei has other plans.

“You’re looking, uh, rough there, Jaem. Everything okay?” Yukhei watches as Jaemin flinches in response. “Right. Taking that as a no.”

“I’m okay. Just, uh, kind of been in a rough mood for the past few days is all.” It’s as close to the truth as Jaemin is willing to get, stacking up his plates. He eyes the crutches leaning against the table before heaving a sigh.

“I can get those. You should start on your way to class, right?” He presses his lips together, staring back at Yukhei, who pats his shoulder comfortingly. “He was just scared, Jaemin. That’s all. It’s going to be fine. Don’t sweat it.”

“… Yeah.”

The day passes as normally as Jaemin can perceive it to, purposefully ignoring the looming weight of the forthcoming discussion with Donghyuck that s sit heavily on his shoulders. He doesn’t mean to miss half his conversation with Jeno, not noticing they’re in front of his building until Jeno grabs his arm to stop him from going further. His friend has a concerned expression as he stands there, peering carefully into Jaemin’s eyes.

“Yeah. I figured.”

“What?” asks Jaemin hesitantly.

“You and Donghyuck are fighting.” Jeno says it as if it’s just another fact. The sun is shining, the semester is nearly halfway over, and Jaemin and Donghyuck are fighting. He looks contemplative before he shrugs. “Talk it out.”

“That’s what he wants to do.” Jaemin sounds small. He feels small. He always feels small next to Donghyuck, really. It’s cliché, and it’s overused, but Jaemin is a small star and Donghyuck is UY Scuti, a hypergiant star that’s 1,700 times larger than the sun. Donghyuck shines so bright that he’s convinced that those around him are the source of light. “And we’re going to talk, and I hope everything will be fine.”

“Well, good luck,” Jeno says with a nod. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. You two just need to talk. If you wanna play a few rounds of PUBG later, just message me.”

“Thanks.”

Falling silent, Jaemin watches as Jeno walks away before ambling into the building, shoulders feeling tense as he waits for the elevator. Donghyuck is sitting at the table when Jaemin walks in, feet kicking back as forth as he types away on his laptop, textbooks open the on the table. Jaemin sounds like a bulldozer crashing through a wall as he makes his way to the table before tossing his crutches to the side and backpack onto an empty chair.

“Hi.”

Donghyuck continues typing until he feels satisfied, closing his laptop. “Hi.”

“You wanted to talk?” His fingers grip the strings of his hoodie as he looks at Donghyuck, whose gaze is tracked to look anywhere but at Jaemin.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck replies hesitantly. “I just…” He grimaces, falling silent as he taps his hands on his laptop. Donghyuck pushes it back and forth in front of him as he searches for the right words. “I wanted to apologize for snapping at you last weekend.”

Jaemin blinks, before shaking his head. “What? No, Donghyuck – there’s no need to apologize.” He presses his palm to his chest, relief clear in his shoulders. “I was stupid, and you had every right to be upset with me.”

“I still –”

“Really,” interjects Jaemin, grabbing Donghyuck’s arm. “It’s okay. I was an idiot. I should’ve controlled myself. I was too excited that dry season was over is all. Yukhei reminded me the other day, without meaning to, of that game, back in high school.”

Donghyuck frowns. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I know. I don’t either. But after Yukhei sent me the video of me jumping off the table, I… You’re right. I was an idiot. And I was irresponsible. That’s nothing new, unfortunately.” Jaemin sighs, leaning back. He stares at the ceiling before his boot hits the leg of the table. “And now I’m in this boot for several weeks.”

“It was stupid, but I was mean –”

“You weren’t mean. You were rightly disappointed –”

“Nana! Stop interrupting me,” Donghyuck yells, shaking him by the shoulder. “Let me apologize. It doesn’t matter whether what you did was irresponsible or not. I reacted rashly.” He retracts his hand, holding it close to his chest. “I yelled at you when all you really needed was rest. We could’ve had that discussion another time, but I was just so… I was so angry with you, Nana. As soon as your season was over, and everything was looking up, you went and hurt yourself because you weren’t thinking. And I know I shouldn’t have yelled, but I was just so frustrated with you.”

Jaemin grimaces as he thinks of the video. “I know. And you should’ve been. Everyone was. Coach called me in. He didn’t ask the details, but I could tell that he was disappointed that I injured myself right as the season ended.”

“I’m still sorry for reacting that way,” Donghyuck murmurs. Jaemin reaches out, taking Donghyuck’s hand in his. “Wanna watch another episode of Sabrina?”

“Sure.”

“Okay!” Donghyuck jumps up, tugging Jaemin to his feet. He’s unable to stop Donghyuck, who pushes him towards his room before banging around the kitchen. “I’m just gonna make us some popcorn and get us drinks! You can set up!”

Jaemin laughs to himself as he looks around his room while he waits for Donghyuck. It’s been a while since he’s looked it over. It’s not messy, though it’s not particularly organized, either. Jaemin thinks that it could use some fixing up, though it’s probably not worth it with move-out a few months away.

“Why’re you just standing there?” asks Donghyuck, placing the bowl of popcorn on the side table. Jaemin isn’t given an opportunity to respond before Donghyuck is rushing out the door again, only to return with drinks. “Oh, shoot! My laptop. Hang on.”

Jaemin blinks, and he’s huddled under his blanket with Donghyuck beside him, Sabrina playing on the laptop. He thinks that life without Donghyuck would be boring. Under the blanket, Donghyuck links their hands, though not before wiping the popcorn butter off on his sheets. Jaemin huffs but takes his hand anyways, letting Donghyuck doze off as Netflix moves onto the next episode.

Things feel settled for now.

“So, when are you going to stop pretending?” asks Jeno, watching as Jaemin chokes on his water. They’re tucked away in a study room; Yukhei is half asleep with his headphones on, slumped in a seat. Jeno looks at him expectantly, head tilted to the side as Jaemin closes his water bottle. “Well? It’s been over a month at this point, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jaemin cracks his neck as he thinks, shrugging. “We haven’t talked about it.”

Jeno looks unimpressed, shaking his head. “Okay, then, I guess. You should, though.”

“I know.”

Placing his pen down, Jeno claps his hands together. “Listen, Jaemin. I know that this is basically everything you ever wanted, but you should really give it more thought. You’re not really dating Donghyuck. And I know that you know that. But, it’s for the best if you, you know – talk.”

“Yeah.”

“Address it sooner than later.”

Jaemin leans back, peering over at Yukhei who’s completely slumped as this point, mouth hanging open as he sleeps. “I know.”

It’s mid-term season with spring break right around the corner. Jaemin knows that he needs to address it before everything gets out of hand. The longer he puts it off, the messier everything becomes. The thin line between being fake and real is smudged, and Jaemin doesn’t think that there’s any definition anymore; it’s faded and blurred and disappeared. There is no distinction left, though he’s sure that he’s the only one who feels that way. He swallows down a bitter laugh.

“If you know, then why haven’t you done anything? All you’re going to do is hurt yourself.” Jeno leans to the side, sighing. “I know he’s your best friend, Jaemin, and the last thing you want to do is risk pushing him away. I know. But, you’re my friend, and I hate seeing you like this.”

“Like what? Delusional?” Jaemin barks out a pitiful laugh and Jeno shakes his head. “Then what?”

“Sad.” He picks his pen back up and reaches for a notebook, abandoned on the corner of the table. “I don’t think you realize it, but you always look so sad underneath all the happiness when you’re with him.”

Leaning back, Jaemin purses his lips. “You’re just really perceptive, Jeno. That’s all. No one else has noticed. Not that anyone cares to notice.”

“Instead of being all woe-is-me, I think you could benefit for putting yourself first and breaking yourself out of this weird cycle you’re in,” Jeno speaks without looking up, content to allow his eyes to scan his open textbook. Jaemin thinks that he isn’t actually reading anything. “Sometimes I think you don’t know how to be selfish, Jaemin. It’s mildly concerning.”

Laughing, Jaemin slides down in his seat until he’s barely hanging on, gaze trained at the ceiling. “It’s just a thing! I know how to be selfish. I just… don’t do it all that much. I know how to put myself first –”

“Then why don’t you? Why are you so hesitant to? Didn’t you say you were going to confess? What’s keeping you from doing something for yourself?”

Jeno presses his lips together as a group of students walk past the study room. The campus is finally beginning to wake up, Jaemin realizes. It wasn’t his idea to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn to claim a study room in the computer science building, though he doesn’t particularly mind. Donghyuck was sound asleep when he left, and campus isn’t terrible before the sun has fully risen in the sky. It’s amusing, watching the way that Jeno’s eyes trail after the students, trained in the direction they disappear before he’s convinced that they’re long gone.

“I couldn’t tell you, Jeno. I don’t really know.”

In the corner, Yukhei begins to stir, gaze bleary as he sits up, smacking his lips together before he yawns, sound breaking through the silence that blankets them. An abandoned Airpod, having fallen out of Yukhei’s ears ages ago, is eventually found. Jaemin wonders why he came along in the first place if all he was going to do was sleep. Not that he doesn’t appreciate Yukhei’s company.

“… Thank you for deciding to join us, Yukhei. It’s not like we haven’t been studying here for the past two hours,” Jaemin says teasingly, sitting up.

“Sorry. Didn’t sleep all that great last night,” apologizes Yukhei around a yawn, dragging his chair back towards the table. “Not that any of us sleep great here at school, right?”

“Definitely not. The beds are so fucking uncomfortable.” He bites back a groan, pressing his cheek against his notebook. Jaemin thinks that he may have a smear of ink on his face when he finally sits up, not that he particularly cares. It’s a Sunday morning, and he’s still confused as to how Jeno’s brain is functioning enough to study. None of them are the kinds of people to wake up before noon.

Beside his laptop, his phone screen lights up, indicating yet another notification from Donghyuck. Jeno raises an eyebrow and Jaemin pointedly looks away from it. He shouldn’t – not yet. He told himself that he would complete the problem set before he messaged Donghyuck back. But then another notification pops up – and then another. And another. And Jaemin gives in, picking up his phone.

In the midst of reading the messages, there’s a knocking on the glass behind him. His neck is stiff as he struggles to turn around in the chair, before spotting Donghyuck, bundled up in his hoodie, sleeves much too long. He thinks his heart stops.

“Nana,” whines Donghyuck. Jaemin can hear through the glass how sick his best friend is. He winces in response. “Come back. I hate being alone.”

Jaemin turns towards Jeno, who waves him off. “Go. Take care of your roommate. He probably shouldn’t even be walking around in his condition. But think about what I said, Na.”

He’s shoving all of his things into his backpack as he nods. Jaemin knows that he needs to think about it – give it some serious consideration. Give the entire situation, really, some serious consideration. Donghyuck clings to his arm as soon as he exits the room, pressing his forehead to Jaemin’s shoulder. He’s complaining about how he’s cold but he’s also warm and how nothing seems to feel right.

Donghyuck pulls him forward but Jaemin halts him with a firm tug. His gaze is firm as he examines his best friend’s upset gaze. In the end, Jaemin situates Donghyuck in front of him before pressing the back of his hand against his forehead and then each cheek. He’s sure that it’s just a slight cold, but Jaemin isn’t one to take illness lightly. Donghyuck teases him for the endless supply of cold medicine, vitamins, and healthy foods that he eats, though Jaemin feels smug as he knows how helpful it all is in times like these.

Donghyuck’s face is warm, even in the temperature-controlled building. A think sheen of sweat spreads across his forehead the longer they stand there. His best friend is one for dramatics, but Jaemin also knows that it’s because he doesn’t know how to be sick, considering it happens to him so rarely. In fact, Jaemin is sure that the last time he was sick was the first week of orientation, when Jaemin had snuck him out Tupperware containers of soup from the dining hall every single day.

It arose the suspicion of the people around him, if for any reason other than the concept of eating hot soup in the throes of a blistering August heatwave being absolutely foreign to any person with common sense. Especially in the freshman dorms, which lack any form of temperature regulation other than windows that open and close, and heating systems that either suffocate you with blistering waves of warmth or don’t do enough. Jaemin didn’t mind, though. Donghyuck needed it. That was all that mattered.

“Let’s get you home then.” Jaemin links their hands together as he presses the back of his free hand against Donghyuck’s cheek again. “You’ve got a slight fever.”

“I know,” whines Donghyuck, voice high. He half-heartedly stomps his foot as he pouts. “That’s why I was messaging you, but you didn’t reply, so I had to ask Jeno where you were!”

“I’m sorry, you big baby,” Jaemin mutters, tugging Donghyuck out of the building and towards their dorms.

Their campus isn’t large, though he can see how exhausted Donghyuck is from the way his breath is short by the time they’re outside their building. Jaemin opts to take the elevator for his best friend’s sake, watching as he meanders towards their door, fumbling with his keys until Jaemin takes them from him, opening their door in one swift motion before pushing him towards their bedrooms.

“Go lay down,” he calls, depositing his backpack at their table before shuffling into the kitchen. “I’ll heat you up some porridge that I want you to eat before you go back to bed. You know where the Tylenol and Ibuprofen are, right? Take one of each – no more, no less. It’ll help break your fever.”

“Okay,” calls Donghyuck’s voice, distant.

For today, the thinking can wait.

Donghyuck’s head is heavy on his shoulder, and Jaemin is absolutely sure that his arm, wrapped securely around his best friend, is asleep, blood flow limited. He doesn’t mind, though. There’s nothing about this situation that he minds, really. Even if Donghyuck is sick and Jaemin is absolutely sure that he’ll be the one missing class next. His immune system was always worse between the two of them. Jaemin’s health in general, really, was always worse between the two of them.

He glances down at his ankle, wrapped in Ace bandages, propped up on a pillow that he doesn’t quite remember putting there. Not that Jaemin remembers falling asleep with Donghyuck tucked up against him, either. It’s not unusual, though, for Donghyuck to crawl into bed with him, particularly when he’s sick.

Jaemin remembers one time, when they were younger, and Donghyuck was sleeping over at his house because his parents were at a play – or something. It’s not a particular detail that Jaemin truly cares to remember from that time. More than anything, he remembers that Donghyuck had been sick that week. It was the tail end of his illness at that point, bronchitis dwindled down to a cough that would wrack Donghyuck’s frame at inopportune times.

For both of their health, Donghyuck’s parents had suggested that the two were separated for the night. Not that Donghyuck – nor Jaemin – had any intention to follow that suggestion. Jaemin had found himself in a similar position that day, Donghyuck curled up beside them.

Jaemin wonders if that was the first time that he realized that maybe what he felt for his best friend wasn’t just simply platonic – that maybe his childish brain just couldn’t recognize it yet, content to continue being a child, leaving the heavy thinking for later. Jaemin thinks that his life might’ve been easier if he had realized everything earlier on in life. Not that he has a choice or anything.

Beside him, Donghyuck shifts, pressing his cheek closer, mumbling something under his breath before his breathing evens out again. Jaemin doesn’t even dare to try to glance over at Donghyuck. The fear of turning his head to see Donghyuck’s sleeping face suddenly awaken is too great. So, he blinks slowly, counting the dots in one of the ceiling tiles to kill the time.

He could be thinking, he knows, about what Jeno had lectured him about hours ago. Jaemin knows – it doesn’t mean that it’s a bridge he’s ready to cross yet, though. It doesn’t have to end with a confession of his feelings, and Jaemin wonders if it would come off as insincere if he chose to confess then. As if he didn’t realize what Donghyuck had to offer until he got himself into a mess. He knows that’s not true, and most of the people around him know that isn’t his feeling, too. Donghyuck, however, exists in the dark.

Donghyuck, for all intents and purposes, exists on the dark side of the moon, if the light were synonymous to Jaemin’s romantic love for his best friend. Steadily, more and more people step from the dark side and into the light, and it seems as if the only one remaining in the dark is Donghyuck. Which Jaemin knows isn’t right of him.

Jaemin should tell Donghyuck. He wants to tell Donghyuck. He didn’t want to think about this sort of thing with Donghyuck pressed so close to him, but he doesn’t seem to have much of a choice, and his brain is on a one-way flight to Over-assess City. In the grandest scheme of things, his problems are Lilliputian – a word that Chenle Zhong had thrown at him one day on the PUBG server.

“I mean that your worries are trivial, Jaemin,” he had said, voice staticky through his headphones. “Whatever the fuck is messing with your vibe isn’t worth it. Just address it, deal with the result, and move on. It’s really not that deep.”

“You don’t get it.” Jaemin had told Chenle that didn’t get it, but it’s not like he actually knows all that much about him, other than the fact that Chenle could be a pro gamer if he really wanted to. Part of him wonders if he really is a pro gamer going under a pseudonym, though he vaguely remembers Renjun complaining about Chenle making him deliver piano music to the recital hall because he had forgotten it in his dorm.

He thinks that maybe Chenle would get it. That there are probably a lot of people out there who get him. The tightness in his jaw finally grabs his attention as he forces his body to relax, starting with the tips of his toes and fingers, working slowly towards his core. If he can’t move, he figures that he might as well fall back asleep, the light seeping in from behind his shades faded enough to tell him the day is practically over, anyways.

And it works – Jaemin can feel the sleep crawling up the edges of his vision as his eyes close, and he relaxes farther into the stiff mattress. There isn’t much he can do.

Make the most of what you can, he thinks.

Donghyuck, beside him, shifts. He’s close enough that Jaemin can feel his fringe brush against his cheek as he moves, trying to find a more comfortable position. In response, Jaemin gently rubs Donghyuck’s back.

“Donghyuck?” His best friend whines in response, pressing his cheek, warm, closer. With his free arm, Jaemin reaches up, brushing hair from Donghyuck’s forehead, fingers gentle as he lets his hand fall back to his side. Donghyuck responds to his touch by clutching tightly at the fabric of his shirt. Jaemin can feel the way his grip tightens and loosens and alternates as he breathes, air getting caught in his throat every so often, breathing sounding rather wheezy. Donghyuck tries to clear his throat several times before giving up.

The sound brings a frown to Jaemin’s face as he attempts to sit up, only to be thwarted by Donghyuck’s vice grip – or as close as he can get to a vice grip in his condition – around his waist. “Are you okay? Should we get you something to drink? I think a glass of whatever and maybe some Mucinex will make you feel better. What do you say?”

The heat from Donghyuck’s breath travels up Jaemin’s neck and paints his cheek a bright red as he speaks. “No. S’okay. Back to sleep,” he murmurs. Before Jaemin can reply, Donghyuck is pressing his lips against his neck.

It’s chaste: quick and, if Jaemin doesn’t think about it, a figment of his imagination. But it’s an issue of his lately, thinking too much.

Jaemin wonders if Donghyuck can hear his pulse spike – feel the way his body turns rigid and his thought processes all halt to a stop. The sound of a car’s tires screeching against asphalt ricochets around in his brain – a metaphor for the clusterfuck that rattles around in his skull. He can’t, though; Jaemin realizes this from the way Donghyuck’s body goes slack and his breathing evens, fanning against his neck with every exhale. Jaemin wonders if it’s possible to combust right here, right now.

His heart feels so loud against the silence – Jaemin can heart it pulsing against his skull, loud in his ears. He feels somewhere between floating on Cloud Nine and plummeting to the surface of the Earth. Every fiber of his being screams at him – reminds him that this is temporary. That moments like these are not for forever, will never be for forever. At some point, they will stop.

Something about him is content to hold onto these memories forever – proverbially tattoo them on the back of his eyelids to watch whenever he closes his eyes. It’s all sentimental bullshit that Jaemin wishes he didn’t have time for. And he doesn’t have time for it, really. He forces there to be time for it. Jaemin forces there to be space and time and opportunities for his feelings for Donghyuck to exist.

Forcing his eyes to close, Jaemin counts backwards from one hundred.

It’s a slow process, and Jaemin finds that his brain is more capable of flitting between counting and forming fully synthesized thoughts. It’s mildly distressing to him that his brain is so dead set on thinking about Donghyuck.

In particular, his mind settles on their conversation from hours before, somewhere between the walk from the computer science building and Jaemin waking up to the sun setting. He typically tends to define Donghyuck as honest – he is considerably more so when ill. It’s an opportunity for Jaemin to know what his best friend is really thinking.

“I think I’m in love with someone,” Donghyuck had said, porridge cooled to room temperature on the kitchen table. Jaemin had fallen silent. A formal, verbal signal of the end. It was a note – a reminder for Jaemin to address the truth. Find the truth. Be honest.

Jaemin continues to count – slowly, slowly.

He falls asleep at one.

“I can’t believe you got me sick,” groans Jaemin, glaring up at Donghyuck from under his blanket. His roommate grins sheepishly, hunching up his shoulders as he places the mug of tea onto the bedside table. “And I’m worse thank you were! How does that even make sense?”

“We both know that you’ve always had a worse immune system than me, Nana.” Donghyuck helps him sit up in bed, recoiling as Jaemin starts to cough. “I’m sorry, Nana. Now you’re sick and your ankle is still bad.”

As if a self-reminder, Donghyuck reaches out for the pillow to gently prop up Jaemin’s ankle. He’s delicate as he moves, and Jaemin thinks that he would appreciate it more if his head wasn’t absolutely pounding. Every cough makes it worse, so he leans over to grab the tea in an attempt to soothe his throat. It’s the usual concoction that Donghyuck makes when he’s sick: tea with apple cider vinegar and plenty of honey. Jaemin isn’t actually sure if it makes his throat feel any better, but he drinks it anyways, if for anything but to make Donghyuck feel better.

“It’s okay,” Jaemin says quietly. “Better to get sick now then over spring break, right?”

“About that… are you flying? Or do you need a ride?” asks Donghyuck, carefully situating himself at the foot of the bed. “My parents are going to stay in town for a few days before spring break so we can leave as soon as possible. If it’s easier, you can just get a ride with us.”

“I’ll have to call my parents, I think. I’m not actually sure what I’m doing for spring break.” Jaemin presses his lips together as he leans back, trying valiantly to ignore the wooden bedframe that presses against his back. “I know my parents want me home, but I was considering that maybe I would just stay on campus.”

Donghyuck’s face falls. It literally falls, any semblance of a positive emotion immediately stripped from his face as he comprehends what Jaemin had said. What Jaemin means. So, he looks away – down at his hands. He’s wearing Jaemin’s hoodie – again. Donghyuck has yet to return this one. Or any of the other ones he’s snagged from Jaemin’s closet.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you stay on campus?”

Jaemin grimaces. Another lie that he has to tell Donghyuck – that he’s afraid he’ll slip up at home and kiss Donghyuck on the cheek in front of Mark or hold him close and say I love you like he means it, because he always means it, forgetting that all they’re doing is playing pretend. “I just think that maybe it’ll be good for me to stay here and rest and get done with any of the work that I’m behind on.”

“You can do that at home, though? We can do that together,” Donghyuck says. Jaemin continues to avoid his gaze until he can’t, Donghyuck having crawled up towards the head of the bed until he’s cradled between Jaemin and the wall, face much too close. “You shouldn’t stay here. You should escape when you can! You and I both know that you hate it here. Catch a ride back home with us – my parents can give you a ride back here, too. I hate thinking that you’d be stuck here on your own.”

“I wouldn’t be, you know, alone-alone. I’m sure that there will be some people around.” His shrug is half-hearted as he stares down at his hands. Blinking, Jaemin watches as Donghyuck joins their hands, thumb rubbing circles on his palm. It’s soothing and Jaemin feels his eyelids getting heavy.

“You’d tell me if there was something bothering you, right, Nana?”

“Of course.”

“Then why aren’t you telling me now?”

Donghyuck sounds fragile. Jaemin hates it – hates that he is, to some extent, the cause of this. He’s hesitant to look up and meet his best friend’s gaze. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he leans his head back and sighs. How does he tell Donghyuck what’s going through his mind? How does he tell Donghyuck what’s going through his mind when he doesn’t even know? Or doesn’t want to know, really. They’re close enough to the same thing that Jaemin doesn’t think of them as exclusive.

“Nana?”

“It’s just something that I’m trying to figure out on my own. It’s okay.”

His eyes open as cold hands cradle his face. “Nana. I’m your best friend. I’m here to help you figure things out so you don’t need to be stuck in your own head. It would be pretty shitty of me if I let you, you know… just, like… I don’t know. It’s just weird. I used to know what was going on in your head all the time, and lately it’s like…” Donghyuck sits back to stare at Jaemin with a wide gaze, expression careful. “It’s kind of like if you painted over that mural in your bedroom. And suddenly it’s all empty, and I can still see it if I close my eyes.”

“Oh.” Jaemin falls silent. “It’s okay. This is my own fault! I’m just trying to figure things out as much as possible before I drag you down with me.”

“You never drag me down.” Donghyuck is starting to get upset; Jaemin can tell from the way his face scrunches up. “I know that it’s only human to keep secrets, Jaemin, but this is new for you. You’ve always been an open book.”

“I know.” Jaemin reaches out for Donghyuck’s hand, flinching as he pulls away.

“What are you thinking of, Nana?”

“Everything.”

“Something is bothering you. What?” Donghyuck reaches out, holding Jaemin’s face in his hands again. “Jaemin, talk to me. You’re not yourself lately and it’s mildly terrifying.”

“When you were sick,” Jaemin says slowly, letting the words form slowly and surely, “you said you were in love with someone. Or, you thought so, at least. And I realized that asking you to be a part of my stupid scheme was hurting you, too.”

“Jaemin –”

“I thought that Spring Break was a good time.” Jaemin flinches, pulling Donghyuck’s hands from his face. “Break? Get it?” His laugh is weak as he reaches out for the mug of tea again. “And then I’ll stay here, and it’ll be more realistic, don’t you think?”

“… Yeah.” Donghyuck sounds small. So, so small. Jaemin clutches at the steadily cooling material of the mug as he sits there, staring at his feet. “I get it.” They fall into silence, until Donghyuck clutches at his wrist. “But we’re, you know – we’re better friends than this, right? It wouldn’t be realistic for us to just – I don’t know.” He sounds like he’s grasping into the air for something – anything. Jaemin gets it. “At least come home. It’s okay. They don’t like me back, anyways. Let’s just get back to where we were. It’s us, right? It’s always been us first.”

Jaemin hates how he sounds hesitant – how Donghyuck sounds so small and fragile, even despite the promise of things going back to normal. Of them returning to where they started. Jaemin wonders if the damage has already been done; if it’s irreversible and that’s why Donghyuck doesn’t care anymore. The promise – the prospect – of normalcy is something foreign to Jaemin. He isn’t sure if it’s possible, but if it’s what Donghyuck wants, then who is he to deny him that?

Going back to normal is a double-edged sword – something that Jaemin both craves and abhors.

“Okay,” Jaemin says into the silence. “I’ll go home.”

Donghyuck’s smile is a little bit broken. “Okay. Good.”

Jaemin stares at his phone in disbelief. Beside him, Donghyuck naps, arms curled around a pillow that Jaemin is absolutely sure he took from the couch downstairs. It’s too fancy for a bedroom that’s decorated with second-hand movie posters and fliers taken from underground concerts. It’s weird, he thinks, being here. It’s weird in the given context, though it’s not all that weird in the grand scheme of things.

But, that’s not what he cares about at the moment.

“Holy shit,” Jaemin whispers into the silence. “I got a ninety-six on my midterm… Holy shit.” Turning to the side, he grabs Donghyuck and starts shaking him. “Donghyuck wake up – holy shit. Oh my God, I aced all my midterms. Holy fuck. Oh my God.”

“Wha – Nana – hang on – wait –”

“Donghyuck. I aced my midterms!”

Sitting up, Donghyuck blinks a few times before smacking his lips a few times. Jaemin watches as the words register in his head before he’s scrambling over Jaemin to unplug his phone, screen lighting up with several emails. Jaemin watches as his upper body slides off the bed until he’s lying on the ground, shoving his phone into Jaemin’s face with a triumphant grin.

“So? I did, too. This is nothing new. This is just what happens when you actually study.”

“Fuck off.” Jaemin laughs, throwing the pillow from the couch over the side of the bed. Donghyuck catches it before jumping up and throwing it back in his face. “So what if I clearly don’t study enough.”

“What did your professors say?”

“I’m not showing you,” Jaemin argues, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Show me!”

“Never!”

“I bet it was something like, ‘I was very impressed by your performance on this midterm and I look forward to your continued improvement,’ or something like that!” Donghyuck cackles, throwing his head back. “Anyways, enough of your typically mediocre academic performance –”

“Hey! I maintain a 3.0 to stay on the team!”

“This calls for some celebration! Come on, get up – let’s go to Dairy Queen and get some ice cream!” Reaching out, he pulls Jaemin out of the bed before dragging him out of the room and to the stairs. “Come on, Nana! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! Mom car-pooled to work today with dad, so we can take the car and go to Dairy Queen!”

“Can we stop by my place? I need to grab my wallet.” Jaemin ambles down the stairs, relaxed, as Donghyuck waits at the bottom, bouncing around on the balls of his feet. His ankle brace is clunky, though he can’t help but feel graceful without the crutches for the first time in weeks. “I don’t want to owe you more money than I already do.”

“You won’t owe me! It’s my treat, especially since you usually do relatively poorly on midterms. This is, like, my congratulations gift to you!”

“It may be the truth, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hurtful,” teases Jaemin, clutching his chest in mock pain. “I know I could do better on midterms if I studied a little more. But I like having fun and spending time outside of the academic buildings, too. More often than you do. it’s just a byproduct of our personalities or whatever.”

Donghyuck appears to be ignoring him as he runs into another direction, pausing before rounding the corner. Jaemin thinks that he’s something like an overly excited puppy as he waits. He doesn’t even relax once they’re in the car, practically vibrating in his seat during the drive. His eyes are carefully trained on the road, but his words go a mile a minute, talking excitedly about what they should order at Dairy Queen.

Jaemin knows that they’ll just get the same thing, though. And that they’ll end up sharing, as well.

It’s just how it always it.

They’re simply how they always are. Just like Donghyuck promised.

There’s still some unrelieved tension that Jaemin can’t really explain, not that he’s in any particular rush to. If anything, he’s content to let everything stay as it is for as long as possible. There’s no rush, he thinks – not anymore, anyways – to figure the things out in his heart and head. Jeno had looked at him, poorly masking his disappointment, when Jaemin had told him what he had decided.

“Nana! What are you gonna get? Should we get something to eat before Dairy Queen? I kind of want McDonald’s fries,” Donghyuck says without looking from the road. The farthest his gaze travels is to look in the rear- and side-view mirrors. He’s always safe. Jaemin wonders if that’s one of the reasons he’s so drawn to him.

“I could go for a large fry,” answers Jaemin honestly. “I’m not opposed to a pitstop at McDonald’s.”

“McDonald’s it is!” Donghyuck is cheering, visibly swaying in the driver’s seat as he turns on his blinker to change lanes.  “Do you want anything other than fries? Or is that it? Should we go inside?”

Jaemin pauses before shrugging. “How about we eat in? It’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”

“Great idea!”

The McDonald’s in their town in new – or, it looks new, at least. It had been renovated sometime between leaving for the beginning of the spring semester and returning for spring break. Things change fast, Jaemin thinks. Things change too fast. The booths are all new, and he stumbles towards one that’s empty as Donghyuck pushes him towards it.

The inside of the McDonald’s is nicer that Jaemin thinks it deserves to be – it’s a small town with so few people calling it home, Jaemin thinks it’s something of a waste. Sitting, he slides forward. The booths are still uncomfortable, though, he surmises. At least that much has stayed constant. Eventually Donghyuck appears, tray in hand.

“I got us a soda to share, too!”

“What kind?” asks Jaemin with a smile.

“Sprite. As always,” Donghyuck replies, wrinkling his nose. He slides into the booth, across from Jaemin, methodically opening ketchup packets and emptying them onto the paper covering the tray. “When do we not get Sprite when we share? I always want Root Beer and you always just want Cola. It’s a compromise.”

“I was thinking that, perhaps, you had finally seen the light.” Jaemin’s tone is teasing and Donghyuck’s scowl is good-natured. “I suppose I was wrong, eh?”

“Just a little. It’s nothing new.”

Their conversation disintegrates as Donghyuck’s attention is claimed by the television behind Jaemin’s head. It gives Jaemin an opportunity. Time to really look at Donghyuck. Not that he doesn’t have time to figure him out, but there are few and far between moments for him to really look at Donghyuck lately. Donghyuck shines so, so brightly.  He’s somewhat blinding – very blinding. Jaemin wonders who has managed to capture Donghyuck’s attention.

Who has been so absolutely lucky to have his undivided attention?

Jaemin has come to accept the fact that Donghyuck will never see him the same way he sees him. It’s just a fact of life – the sky is blue, some grass is green, and Donghyuck will never love him back. Donghyuck is simply too bright – too brilliant – for Jaemin to grasp. To be worthy to grasp. He doesn’t mind as much, anymore – not when he’s learned to accept it.

He stills wants to confess. Jaemin thinks that the nagging feeling at the back of his head, settled deep in his heart, will never disappear fully until he confesses. Tells Donghyuck that he knows that Donghyuck will never feel the same, but Jaemin wants to get it off his shoulders, anyways. It’s selfish – it’s something that might end up being a burden on his shoulders. It’s so selfish, but Jaemin wants to tell him anyways.

The fries dwindle, disappearing until his are all gone and Donghyuck’s are only half-finished. He always orders more than he can handle, Jaemin thinks.

“You ready to head out?” asks Jaemin, grabbing Donghyuck’s attention. Startled, Donghyuck blinks rapidly before tilting his head to the side. “Like, to Dairy Queen.”

“Oh! Oh, shit – sorry, Nana. I didn’t mean to zone out.” Donghyuck looks down at his half-finished fries while grimacing. “Ah, I didn’t finish them again.”

“It’s fine. More room for ice cream, right?”

Donghyuck, across the table, lights up. “Yeah! More room for ice cream!”

Jaemin’s heart stutters and he ambles out of the McDonald’s behind Donghyuck, who buzzes excitedly, bouncing in the driver’s seat as Jaemin slides into the passenger seat, smiling in response. “Dairy Queen?”

“Hell yeah! Dairy Queen, here we come!”

Dairy Queen’s parking lot is emptier than Jaemin expected it to be. He knows that they’re not the only two home from university – that there are plenty of their former classmates home for spring break who, back in high school, would’ve spent a majority of their time at Dairy Queen. Now it’s empty. They sit on the curb outside the small building, listening to the sounds of the surrounding area that are barely audible over the whirring of the building that they just exited.

“Why does it get weirder and weirder being home every single time?” asks Donghyuck softly. “Like, I knew that Mark’s break wasn’t gonna line up with ours, so I don’t think it’s that. I just… something about this feels unfamiliar, I guess.”

“It probably feels like that because, well, this isn’t really our only home anymore, is it?” Jaemin offers. “Like, we have our home here, and then we have our home out in university, don’t we? And they’re not the same, I guess.”

“Do you know, yet? I mean, I know we have some time, but, like, do you know what you want to do after this is all over?” asks Donghyuck, holding his Blizzard between his knees. “Like, I’m probably gonna take a gap year, or whatever – work as lab technician or something before I get ready to get my PhD. Or something.” Shrugging, he leans back. “You? And I mean like, sure – nursing school. Eventually. Good. But… how are you getting there? What’s the path?”

“I don’t know,” Jaemin answers honestly. “I really don’t know.”

“I mean, there’s no rush!” says Donghyuck, backpedaling quickly. “You’ve got, like, forever to figure it out, right? Don’t think much of it! Like, you know. I was just… curious is all, I guess.”

“It’s okay. My parents ask me all the time. It’s part of the reason I didn’t want to come home for spring break – why don’t you know what you want to do yet? – but I did anyways. Because you begged.”

“It would’ve been boring without you,” Donghyuck answers easily with a shrug.

Jaemin hates how easily they’ve slipped back into a routine that Jaemin isn’t even sure if he wants anymore. Not when it hurts. Even if the hurt is dull, it’s hurt all the same. They don’t ever bring it up; they ignore the way that sometimes Donghyuck reaches out for Jaemin’s hand without second thought; how sometimes they overstep the boundaries that were in place between them before everything.

“Mark just had to go to another university, huh,” jokes Jaemin, breaking out of his own head.

“Nana. You’re holding things in again,” Donghyuck mutters gently. “What’s going on with you lately? Did I do something wrong?”

Jaemin nods his head no – it’s the truth. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault. I did something stupid and I need to think about it.”

“So? You can tell me. Nana, you shouldn’t do stupid things on your own. Remember what happened last time?”

“You came to my aid anyways. I’d like to see if I can handle this one on my own this time,” Jaemin replies with a grin. “It’ll be okay, though. Don’t think much of it. This is a new me – a new Jaemin Na.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says, pulling a face that lets Jaemin know he definitely does not believe him. “Regardless. If anything is bothering you, I’m here to listen. Even if I don’t have an answer. I can help you find it, right?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers quietly.

“Anyways, we’re heading back to campus tomorrow morning. Now’s not the time to get all stuck in your head, is it?” Donghyuck ribs Jaemin with a grin before shunting his now-empty cup into the trash. “Let’s head back to my place or something! You don’t have any work to finish before spring break is over, do you?”

“Nope. Not that I can think of,” Jaemin answers, wracking his brain. “If there is, I might as well take that L.”

“Just after we celebrated acing our midterms? Really, Nana?”

Buckling in, Jaemin shrugs. “If anything, it won’t be detrimental, I don’t think. I mean, maybe it will be. But, I’m not all that into worrying myself over it while I’m trying to relax and enjoy the rest of my spring break.”

“You amaze me, Jaemin Na.”

Grinning, Jaemin hums along with the music as they drive around. He recognizes that Donghyuck is taking the long way back to his house – winding around to the edge of town, giving them a glimpse of the side of life that they hadn’t seen in a while. The fields are sprawling and Jaemin remembers being a kid and not being able to think about anything else but the immediate world around them.

“Jaemin?”

“Yeah?”

Donghyuck sounds small suddenly. It’s abrupt and Jaemin turns towards his best friend in surprise as they pull into the driveway. He doesn’t speak again until they’re out of the car and perched back on Donghyuck’s bed, laptop by their feet providing background noise. Donghyuck sounds small and looks small.

“Everything is okay between us, right?”

“What? Yeah – of course, Donghyuck. Why do you ask?” Jaemin tilts his head to the side in confusion, curious. “I promise that everything is okay between us. I’m acting weird because it’s a me thing, not a you thing. It’s all my fault.”

“Oh. Okay.” Donghyuck still looks uncertain – unconvinced – but he forces his shoulders to relax as he leans backwards. He’s hesitant as he leans to the side, resting his head on Jaemin’s shoulder. “I believe you, Jaemin. I just…”

“Changing is just a part of growing up, isn’t it?” asks Jaemin with a smile. “I’ve even changed since high school. Remember how social I wasn’t? You and Mark were my only friends. Now look at me. I’m the social one between us. Isn’t that funny?”

“Life is weird. Part of me just wants to go back to those days,” Donghyuck murmurs quietly. “Like – wouldn’t that be nice? To not have all this responsibility on our shoulders? To not care so much about things? Not that we didn’t care at first. But, like, this much. We care a lot more about things, I think.”

Jaemin nods, understanding. “Of course. It’s only natural with growing up, isn’t it?”

“I wish it wasn’t. I wish life could stay easy.” Donghyuck’s voice is soft as he speaks.

“I do, too,” Jaemin murmurs. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Donghyuck’s arms link with Jaemin’s as he hums gently along with the music that plays from the laptop. “It would. But, you’re right. It’s only natural.”

Jaemin laughs – it’s a choking sort of sound, and he’s not sure why he feels so sad. So lonely, even with Donghyuck sitting beside him. He supposes that it’s just a byproduct of the life that he’s led, the choices that he’s made. They weren’t all bad. None of them were bad, really. Jaemin likes to think that, per Bob Ross’s advice, his life has simply been a series of happy little accidents. Donghyuck, however, is not one of them.

To him – to Jaemin – Donghyuck was always meant to be a part of his life. A pre-determined element that was always supposed to be there. In every alternate timeline – in every parallel universe – Donghyuck has become a part of Jaemin’s life in some way, shape, or form. Even if non-permanent, passing, he is a part. It makes Jaemin’s shoulders relax.

“Do you think we’ll be friends for the rest of our lives?”

Jaemin closes his eyes, letting his head fall backwards. He lets the question tumble around in his mind for a while. Honesty is on the forefront of his mind – to tell Donghyuck that it may be inevitable, a part of human nature, to fade apart one day. Even after years and years and years of friendship, Jaemin thinks that one day, they may just fall apart. And that’s part of life. It’s just a thing that will happen.

Another part of him wants to lie – promise Donghyuck that they’ll be in each other’s lives for forever. Jaemin settles on somewhere in the middle. Part wish, part reality.

“If we weren’t, I think I’d be pretty fucking disappointed.”

Donghyuck sniffs. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Lunch; the first one post-break. Jaemin should be looking forward to it – normalcy. Routine. He’s the first one at their table, and he watches, mute, as people file in through the front door, swiping their IDs. Jeno makes eye contact with him as he walks in, waving in greeting before disappearing towards the food. He appears, eventually, plates clattering on the table.

“What is up, my newly single friend?” teases Jeno with a smile. It’s gentle: considerably less abrasive from his tone. Jaemin knows that he’s simply trying to keep the mood light – to lift Jaemin’s shoulders. “How was spring break?”

“… Glad it’s over, I think,” Jaemin answers honestly. Part of him was grateful for the break from academics and the pressure to put on a fake smile while spending time with people he doesn’t actually like. Part of him didn’t want to face the reality that he had to leave behind. And even if he didn’t really address it, it was always there – an undercurrent of you need to talk to him. “Like… it’s nice to be back on campus, I think.”

“That’s not what I expected.” Jeno blinks, setting his fork down as the noise surrounding them forms something of a bubble. They feel isolated – safe, even if they aren’t. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

Did he tell him? Jaemin snorts as he looks out the window pointedly. He didn’t – he’s sure that Jeno didn’t expect him to, anyways. It’s still shitty to have to admit it, though – to admit that maybe some part of him likes the emotional duress that he’s been putting himself through, though he knows that it’s a lie. He’s not a fan of it – he’s just more afraid of rejection, like any sane person, he tells himself. His reaction is normal. Jaemin is normal.

Across the table, Jeno clears his throat. It’s a pointed gesture and Jaemin sort of hates it. He doesn’t hate Jeno; he just hates the gesture.

“What do you think?” Raising an eyebrow, Jaemin stabs his food with his fork before shoving it into his mouth. He hopes that the bitter tone and his pointed silence is enough. Jeno’s pity-riddled expression is enough to confirm that he understood. “I… I couldn’t. It’s weird, but it… but it isn’t. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You can try. We still have another – what? – twenty minutes before anyone else said they could show up.” Jeno doesn’t have an expression of expectation. He clearly knows that Jaemin has a lot to say with minimal ways to voice it.

Pressing his lips together, Jaemin nods. “It’s not… I… I wish I didn’t say anything. If I didn’t say anything, this would’ve been okay. We wouldn’t be here. I could… I don’t know.”

Lately, Jaemin has been simply at a loss for words. It’s a pain in the ass, to be frank; to be unable to form his thoughts into sentences that other people can understand. His mind is a free-flowing string of random words, unconnected, though sensible in the safety of his own mind. A state of words that those outside of Jaemin’s head cannot understand. A state of thoughts that even Jaemin himself sometimes struggles to understand.

Jeno’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “Are you ever going to tell him?”

Jaemin falls silent, sitting backwards. He doesn’t know. He should tell him, he thinks. Eventually. But Jaemin isn’t sure at this point – he’s gone so long without Donghyuck knowing. What’s the harm in Donghyuck staying in the dark until Jaemin finally gets over his feelings? So, he settles for silence. It shouldn’t be surprising to Jeno, but it clearly is from the way he sits back, a mix of awe and disappointment crossing his face until he trains it into a carefully curated smile.

“Hey, Hyuck. You’re here kind of early, aren’t you? I thought you said you were gonna run late today.”

“Hey, Jeno. Nana!” Donghyuck’s voice cuts over the noise – it always does, when he approaches, sliding into the both beside Jaemin, pressing close. There’s more than enough room for the both of them, but Donghyuck sits, arms touching, as he beams. “Class let out early, so I headed straight here. What’s up?”

“Just catching up after spring break. Did you do anything fun?” asks Jeno, sliding over to make room for Yukhei. Renjun pulls a chair from another table to sit at the end. “Or did you and Jaemin just do the same exact thing over break?”

“Whatever Jaemin did, I probably did. There’s not much to do back home, and we spent most of our time together, anyways.” Donghyuck shrugs, matter of fact, before leaning forwards. His hand fumbles slightly and he scrambles to stop his cup from tipping over and emptying its contents onto the table. “What about you guys? Did you do anything fun?”

Lucas beams as he says, “Renjun and I went to an amusement park! It wasn’t really that fun, but we got to spend the entire day together!”

Donghyuck nods excitedly as he leans forwards, hands clasped together. “Oh! You two went to Yukhei’s house, right? How was it? Was the flight okay? Did you two have fun?”

Nodding, Renjun chews on his pasta, pulling a face. “We did. It was such a long flight. It was nice when we finally got off the plane, and I could move my legs.” He grimaces as if suffering from phantom pains leftover from the long flight. Jaemin both completely understands and thinks it’s a bit overdramatic, not that he would ever say that. “And before any of you say, ‘Renjun! What about Yukhei?’ He sat aisle, so he stuck his legs out when he could.”

“Dude. How did you get away with that? Whenever I do that, I immediately get yelled at,” Jaemin asks in awe. It’s a bit of a sore subject, thinking of the time he had been scolded by a flight attendant in front of a plane of strangers. He gets it. Jaemin knows it’s a safety hazard. He just thinks that they should make more leg room for customers if they don’t want them to shove their feet into the aisle, then.

Yukhei shrugs, relaxed. “I’m observant?”

“… Ouch,” mutters Jaemin, choosing to sip his coke in favor of saying anything else.

“Anyways!” shouts Yukhei, sitting up. He looks much too excited – Jaemin feels himself become nervous. “There’s a party at a townhouse this weekend – you in? Jeno? Jaemin?”

“Oh, hell yeah. Before the semester gets rolling again,” Jeno replies with a grin. He turns towards Jaemin, eyes wide in a challenge. “Jaem?”

“Fuck yeah.” Jaemin leans forward; feels the tension seep from his spine to the tips of his fingertips. “I’m definitely in. Are you kidding me?”

“The boys are back!” shouts Yukhei, attracting the attention of people walking by. “Aw, fuck yeah – I’m so fucking excited. God, I’m gonna get so fucked up.”

Jeno laughs, throwing his head back. “Hell yeah. Before the finals rush. Let’s do it.”

“I’m totally game,” Jaemin says with a nod. “I just can’t sprain my fucking ankle again because I decided to jump off a table.”

“You better not,” bites out Donghyuck. He looks considerably pissed as he stares at Jaemin.

“I won’t, I won’t!”

Yukhei laughs, grinning. “You should come with us, Donghyuck. Have you ever gone to a party with Jaemin? Man, he’s a fucking riot! Then you can keep him in line, too! Like Renjun does for me.”

“I’m an adult – not a kid who needs a babysitter,” shoots back Jaemin. He leans his head on his hand as he sits there.

“I’m in,” Donghyuck says.

“What?”

“… Oh my God.”

“I said: I’m in.” Donghyuck looks unamused. “Looking forward to it.”

Jaemin, in the back of his mind, curses. Yukhei had to know what he was doing.

Jaemin’s heart stops, just for a moment, though he thinks he wouldn’t mind if it stopped permanently. Donghyuck stands in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck as Renjun shoves him forward, Yukhei bringing up the rear. If Jaemin’s heart were to stop permanently in this very moment, Jaemin thinks that his life would’ve been worth it, even with all the regrets he’s managed to pile up over the past few months.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” asks Donghyuck hesitantly. “I told you, Renjun.”

“No! No, no, no,” Jaemin says, rushing forward. “It looks… you look… good.”

“Just good?” asks Renjun, as if personally offended. “I didn’t use my Pat McGrath pallet to make Donghyuck look like a fucking runway model for you to just say good, Jaemin Na.”

“Renjun – it’s okay.” Donghyuck attempts to placate his friend, grabbing his arm. “It’s really okay.”

“If Donghyuck weren’t here, I would have ended you with my own hands,” hisses Renjun, eyes narrowed. “I’m watching you, Na. Get your shoes on and let’s get going. Jeno is meeting us there.”

“God – it’s been so long since Renjun’s gone with us. I forgot how he usually keeps us in line,” sighs Jaemin, locking their door behind them. Donghyuck giggles, nodding his head. “You’re giddy.”

“I had a few shots at Renjun and Yukhei’s while he did my makeup.”

The last time Donghyuck had anything to drink, Jaemin realizes, was freshman year – the first, and, until now – only party he had ever been to. It was something of a shitshow, he remembers in mild horror. Donghyuck had gotten drunk out of his mind, belligerent, crying over – something. He doesn’t remember what. All Jaemin can recall is how he had taken Donghyuck home early in an attempt to help him sober up, convince him to drink water.

He still woke up hungover, anyways. Both of them did.

“Don’t drink too much. You know how low your tolerance is,” murmurs Jaemin, pausing as Donghyuck wraps his arms around Jaemin’s. “I don’t want to have to rub your back while you vomit for the entire night.”

“Never! I’m probably done for the night. I just wanted a little.” Donghyuck pouts up at Jaemin, who shakes his head. “I’m serious! I’m not gonna drink more. Really. I promise!”

“So I can get stupid drunk, right?” Jaemin teases, laughing at Donghyuck’s offended expression. “I’m kidding. I shouldn’t. If I do, I’ll probably do something stupid again, won’t I?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” Donghyuck shakes his head, exhausted, as Jaemin laughs, loud, earning the attention of passerby. “Plus, you have to stick close to me, okay? It’s been… a while since I’ve been to one of these.”

“Don’t sweat it, Hyuckles,” Jaemin says, reaching up to tap Donghyuck on the nose. “I’ll be right by your side. It’ll be pretty lowkey, though. It’s just a townhouse party, yeah? They’re super chill. Like, laidback music, laid back scene. No need to stress about it. This is nothing like the party we went to together back in freshman year.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely,” Jaemin says, linking their pinkies when Donghyuck holds up his hand. “I promise that I’ll stick by your side. But, if you lose me, look for Renjun and Yukhei, okay? Can you promise me that?”

“Promise.”

“Come on, you fucking slowpokes,” Renjun shouts, meandering up for the sidewalk towards the front door. “Let’s get going.”

“Are you sure you want to go in?” asks Jaemin, pausing at the door. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to – we can go back to our dorm and watch a movie or something.”

Donghyuck giggles behind his hand. “I want to go, Jaemin. I promise. Plus, Renjun’s hard work would be in vain if I didn’t! I don’t look this good for no reason.”

“That’s because you always look good,” Jaemin answers honestly, shaking his head. “Anyways, I’m gonna head straight to the kitchen for a drink if you want one, too?” They pause in the atrium and Jaemin reaches up, brushing at his cheeks. “I think Renjun might’ve used a bit too much blush, though.”

Huffing, Donghyuck swats at Jaemin’s hand. “I want one.”

“Na! Look at you!” shouts a voice as he enters the kitchen.

“Han! What’s good?” asks Jaemin, clapping their hands together. “Your house parties are always great – excited to be here.”

“You bet, bitch.” Jisung cackles, throwing his head back. “Only the best for the boys. Oh? You brought your ex along?”

“Yes, I brought my best friend,” interjects Jaemin, rolling his eyes. “What’d you buy?”

“The usual: Burnett’s, that cheap gin from Trader Joe’s, two-buck-chuck, uh… You name it, we probably bought the cheap version of it.” Jisung opens the fridge and freezer, pretending to show off the contents. Jaemin suppresses a laugh; it’s very college, the fridge and freezer containing all the things needed for a house party and nothing more. “Make yourself at home, Jaemin and friend.”

“Fuck off, Han.”

“You know what they say about staying friends with your ex,” sings Jisung as he rolls out of the kitchen with a cackle.

Jaemin shakes his head, reaching for the Burnett’s and Hawaiian Punch in the fridge. “What do they say about staying friends with your ex?” asks Donghyuck, eyes wide.

“They say it doesn’t work,” Jaemin replies with a shrug. “Do you want one?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Donghyuck leans on the kitchen counter, smile goofy as he stares at Jaemin. “You sure you’re ready for all the questioning and whatever you’re going to get tonight?”

Donghyuck looks beautiful tonight, Jaemin decides. He always does, but he looks particularly beautiful, even in the shitty kitchen lighting, half the lightbulbs out. Jaemin isn’t drunk yet – can’t blame this on a slip of the mind or anything. He just simply thinks that Donghyuck is beautiful, no ifs, ands, or buts.

“I’m fine,” Jaemin digs through drawers until he finds spoons, using them to mix the drinks before shoving everything back where it belongs, spoon clattering in the sink. “It’s no big deal. They don’t know shit, and they have no room to talk. Half of them keep their exes around for fun.”

“That’s fucked. You’re friends with those trash bags?” asks Donghyuck, taking his drink from Jaemin, nose scrunching.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Mutually. They throw good parties and at this point, I’m sure they hate me for shitting on them for it at this point. But, I’m close with Yukhei, so they don’t fuck with me.”

“Did you know that your vibe changes – pretty drastically, I might add – at parties, Nana?” Donghyuck sips from his cup, eyebrow raised in a challenge as Jaemin laughs, shaking his head. “It’s a little startling.”

“I’m a different person here, fortunately or unfortunately.” Jaemin grins. “It’s the way it is here, baby. Eat or get eaten.”

Donghyuck shakes his head before latching onto Jaemin again, following him into the living room. “Personally, I’d prefer neither, but if that’s the case, what’s the harm?”

This is a foreign space to Donghyuck, and Jaemin recognizes it. Even with how lowkey it is, it’s a party, and it’s not Donghyuck typical scene – not Donghyuck’s typical crew. Jaemin wonders if he’s told Jungwoo about the party. He’s is sure he has, though the ever elusive Jungwoo, who Jaemin has only met once in person and spoken to several times over the phone with at this point, probably shook his head in amazement. Jaemin gets it, but he doesn’t.

There’s nothing bad about partying, per say, and Jaemin has long left the overwhelming fraternity parties behind, content to attend the more laid back, mellow, house parties held by teammates and mutual friends. They’re much more his scene at this point, and Jaemin hesitates to tell Donghyuck that these parties are how Jaemin got that black eye sophomore year – not from practice.

“You can be whoever you want to be at this party, you know. They’re never gonna ask you about it, unless you do something stupid like me, and get drunk and sprain your ankle.” Jaemin grimaces as he thinks about the last party that he was able to attend.

“Well I’m definitely not gonna be that stupid,” replies Donghyuck with a laugh. Jaemin guides him to the couch where there’s barely enough room, Donghyuck perching on the arm when he pushes Jaemin into the last seat. The music is louder than Jaemin remembers it being last time, though his heart beats louder as he watches Donghyuck joke with Renjun, who walks over, looking considerably more relaxed.

“You look happy,” Yukhei says, squeezing between Jaemin and a disgruntled couple who walks away.

Donghyuck laughs and Jaemin allows himself to smile. “Yeah. I am.”

“Nana!” Jaemin turns around in circles, blinking as he peers around the dark living room. The music is loud, and he thinks that maybe he imagined it, until a body collides with him, arms wrapping securely around his middle. He stumbles, apologizing to a stranger he knocks into, before recognizing the body that clings to him tightly.

“Donghyuck? I thought you were with Renjun and Yukhei,” Jaemin says in surprise, looking at his best friend. Donghyuck cranes his head back to stare up at Jaemin. His gaze is a mix between awe and admiration – two things that Jaemin thinks he doesn’t deserve from Donghyuck. “Where are they?”

“I’unno.” Donghyuck shrugs before he loosens his grip, finishing off the rest of his drink.

Frowning, Jaemin holds his best friend close, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Where’d you get that?”

“Renjun made it!” Donghyuck’s smile is infectious, and Jaemin finds himself smiling along until he realizes that Donghyuck has likely exceeded his limit. Far exceeded it, really. It’s unsettling that he had gotten this far in-between Jaemin wandering off to greet other people and Donghyuck finding him again. Jaemin thinks to himself that he shouldn’t have left Donghyuck with Renjun and Yukhei in the first place. He had promised him, after all.

“Hey, Na,” Seungmin says, lifting his chin as he gestures towards Donghyuck. “Found your boy sitting on the back porch by himself. You should keep a better eye on him, I think.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, nodding. “Thanks for the heads up, Kim. He was supposed to be with Huang, but it looks like he wandered off.”

“Ah, he’s a wanderer, eh? The most annoying kinda drunk,” Seungmin says with a smirk. “You enjoying the party?”

“Yeah!” shouts Donghyuck, grin blinding.

“Well, at least someone is,” Seungmin replies, gesturing at Jaemin’s disgruntled expression. “You should help your boyfriend enjoy the party some more, then. Jaemin looks like he’s a little pissed to be here. Anyways, I should go meander off to find some other wandering drunks, huh? See you.”

Before Jaemin can say anything, Seungmin is gone and Donghyuck is searching around for a place to put his cup, settling on abandoning it on a table, stacked with others, before returning to Jaemin’s side, eyes wide. Jaemin had made his rounds – spoken to everyone he knew at the party. There was no reason to stay any longer, worried about Donghyuck’s current state.

“Donghyuck, I think you’re a little drunk.” Jaemin whispers into Donghyuck’s ear over the music. He hopes that his best friend can hear him, but he isn’t too sure from the way that Donghyuck giggles and reaches out for Renjun, who walks towards them with Yukhei in tow. “Hey, guys. I think I’m gonna take Donghyuck home. Are you two gonna stay here?”

“Yeah, probably,” Renjun shouts over the music. “Take care of him, Jaemin.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” snaps Jaemin with a frown.

“Nana,” whines Donghyuck. “Sleepy…”

“I know, I know. Let’s head home.” Jaemin pauses before blinking, looking towards Yukhei, brow furrowed. “Yo. Did you see Jeno anywhere? I thought he was meeting us here?”

Yukhei nods no, hand clasped on the back of his neck. He looks mildly concerned, peering around before sighing. “I heard he ended up at some other party.”

“You heard, or you know?”

“I know,” Yukhei admits. “He messaged me. Said that some of his classmates – Eric and Sunwoo and all of them – intercepted him on the way here and dragged him to another party. I told him not to sweat it.”

“Oh, shit. Well, I’m sure we’ll hear about it tomorrow.” Jaemin grins at Yukhei who shrugs. “Well, we’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Donghyuck links arms with him as Jaemin claps Yukhei on the shoulder before heading towards the door. His heart drops towards the bottom of his stomach as they’re intercepted just before the door. Jaemin knew the night was going far too smoothly – that something had to give. He could only be so lucky in one night.

“Jaemin.”

“Hyunjin. Uh. Hey,” Jaemin squints – he barely recognizes him, his hair dyed a bright red. It’s weirdly reminiscent of a hair color that Donghyuck had tried in the past. Jaemin decides that it suits Donghyuck more. “What’s up?”

Hyunjin is grinning widely until he sees Donghyuck, clinging to Jaemin. “I just heard that you were at the party. I was under the impression that you wouldn’t, well, be here with your ex.”

“Why?” asks Jaemin, tense.

“Well, he’s your ex, isn’t he? Isn’t that a bit odd to be here with him?” purrs Hyunjin, walking forwards. “I was just thinking –”

“Stop thinking,” snaps Donghyuck. His voice sounds shaken as he talks, shouldering to stand in front of Jaemin. “And we’re not exes.” Panic rises up Jaemin’s throat in the form of bile. “We’re just figuring things out, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop looking at Jaemin like you want to fuck him while I’m standing right here.”

Jaemin doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh, cry, or vomit. He decides that it’s probably some mix of the three as Donghyuck whirls around, unsteady on his feet before grabbing out for Jaemin’s hands. He lets himself be tugged around Hyunjin, who looks surprised, before they exit the house, humidity quickly dissipating.

“Hyuck –”

“You would think!” Donghyuck frowns as he walks, eyes narrowing as Jaemin tries to shush him. “You would think that Hyunjin would’ve moved on and figured out that he didn’t have a chance, but clearly he doesn’t know shit!”

“Donghyuck, it’s okay. It’s whatever,” Jaemin says, reaching out for Donghyuck’s hand. He watches as his best friend’s shoulders stop heaving up and down before speaking again. “It’s really okay, Donghyuck. I’m sure he won’t bother me every again after that scolding, though.”

Donghyuck’s ears turn red as he stands there. “… Yeah.”

“Hey – it’s okay. I thought that it was pretty funny. And I appreciate it. I hope he won’t bother me ever again,” Jaemin replies gently. He squeezes Donghyuck’s hand, reassuringly, before tugging them in the direction of the diner in town. “I have my wallet. Let’s get you something small to eat and some water in you before we go home. You’ll be thankful for that in the morning.”

“Nana, I’m sorry.”

Jaemin turns towards Donghyuck, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “Sorry? About what?”

“I… I didn’t want to get drunk. I wanted tonight to be fun.”

“Hyuck.” Jaemin pauses them on the sidewalk, letting silence fall between them. The hum of the streetlamps is both comforting and unnerving. “Donghyuck Lee, look at me. It was fun. And I hope you had fun, too. Did you have fun?”

“A lot,” Donghyuck answers honestly, “until Hyunjin stopped us at the door.”

“Well, don’t let one guy ruin your night, right?” says Jaemin with a smile, holding Donghyuck’s face in his hand. He uses his thumbs to push Donghyuck’s mouth into a smile, laughing under his breath at the ridiculousness of it all.

Jaemin wishes that he wasn’t in love with his best friend. It would make existing – spending time with him, like this – easier on his heart. Donghyuck is fragile in his hands, though Jaemin wonders if he’ll ever get to know how he holds Jaemin’s heart in his hands. Has held it. Will hold it – at least a small bit of it – for the rest of their lives. Jaemin wants Donghyuck to know. Wants him to know so badly.

I’m in love with you, Donghyuck Lee, Jaemin thinks, and I wish I had the guts to tell you.

“Nana? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m better than okay, I think,” Jaemin replies quietly. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

When Jaemin awakes to two hands clutching desperately to his shirt, he wonders what timeline he’s in – how he managed to fuck up this time. However, when he turns his head, he’s met with a face full of hair, the scent of the shampoo familiar. It’s Donghyuck. His heart plummets. He doesn’t know how they ended up here. He distinctly remembers guiding Donghyuck back to his own bedroom and tucking him in before collapsing in his own bed.

The sunlight that streams in through, behind the shades, lets Jaemin know that he’s slept in long enough.

He shifts and Donghyuck groans, picking his head up to stare down at Jaemin before whining, letting his head fall back down to rest on Jaemin’s chest. He curses – he’s sure that Donghyuck can hear the way his heart stutters, races, the whole shebang that your heart does when you’re close to the one you love. Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, though, breathing evening as he falls back asleep.

Jaemin knows that they need to wake up, though. Reaching up, he runs his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair, smiling as his best friend sighs in contentment. He hates having to wake him up, but it’s Saturday and they have things to do.

“Donghyuck. C’mon. Time to wake up.”

“What time is it?” mutters Donghyuck against his chest.

“Not sure. I can’t grab my phone when you’re sleeping on me,” Jaemin replies, laughing as Donghyuck snorts. “C’mon, Hyuckles. It’s morning, I think. Actually, it might be the afternoon if the sunlight is any indication. We should get up. Get some water and food that isn’t from the diner at one in the morning.”

“One in the morning diner food is the best food, and you know it,” bites back Donghyuck sleepily. It lacks any malice. A tired Donghyuck is a muted Donghyuck. Not in a bad way. Just… a Donghyuck way.

Jaemin laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, sure; it’s not all that good for you, though. We need to get something in you that isn’t onion rings and soda since you vehemently refused to drink water at the diner last night.”

“Because it tasted gross,” hisses Donghyuck, whining as Jaemin attempts to sit up. “Jaemin.”

“I don’t want you to become dehydrated. Let’s at least get some water in you, okay?” Jaemin reaches over, hauling Donghyuck into a sitting position. It’s incredibly difficult, given the way that Donghyuck clings to his middle, ear pressed to his chest. “Donghyuck, cooperate with me.”

“No,” whines Donghyuck. “Go back to bed.”

“Do you have a headache?”

Donghyuck groans, burying his face further into Jaemin’s chest. “Yes.”

“Let me go grab you some water and Advil, then.”

“Okay.”

There’s a pause as Jaemin waits for his best friend to let go, which he doesn’t. His sigh is heavy as he attempts, valiantly, to pry Donghyuck’s hands from around him. “Donghyuck. For me to get you these things, you need to let go.”

“You’re so comfy, though. Can’t this wait?” Donghyuck tries to pout at Jaemin, who replies with a fiercely unimpressed look. “Is that a no?”

“That is indeed a no, Donghyuck. You need to let go. Let’s go. Come on. Time to get up!” Jaemin is more forceful this time as he heaves both their bodies off the bed, dragging Donghyuck towards the shared bathroom. Donghyuck continues to cling to him as he rummages through his boxes for Advil before pulling the bottle out and dragging them towards the kitchen. “Okay. Now, water.”

It’s awfully difficult, dragging the dead weight of your roommate around as you scrounge through cabinets for cups before opening the fridge for the water filter. Donghyuck loosens his grip before adjusting it to hug Jaemin from behind, chin digging into his shoulder. He hums along to a song that Jaemin vaguely remembers as something played last night, before taking the Advil bottle.

He’s slow to separate from Jaemin, struggling to open the bottle of painkillers as Jaemin stands there with the cup, amused. “Help.”

“You can do this,” Jaemin teases with a smile. “I believe in you. You’re a grownup. You can open a bottle of Advil.”

“Says you,” mutters Donghyuck, making a soft sound of amazement as he opens the bottle, dumping a pill into his hand before slapping the cap back on. He knocks it back into his mouth before grabbing out for the glass of water that he downs in one go. Donghyuck looks mildly revived as he places the cup on the counter.

It’s a novelty thing, color-changing in response to temperature. Jaemin had bought it in an airport, he thinks, on a basketball trip. They had flown somewhere for a tournament – he can’t really remember where – and Jaemin had seen the cups; bought them in a moment of weakness. At this point, they’re more of a blank memory, the print long ago scrubbed off. Donghyuck and he were always rather thorough about making sure their things were clean.

“Feel better now?”

“I mean, it’ll take a while for the Advil to kick in I think,” Donghyuck replies, wincing as Jaemin opens the shades and lets in sunlight. “I still wanna go back to bed, though. What time is it?”

Jaemin wanders into his room in favor of answering, re-emerging with his phone in hand. “It’s almost two in the afternoon.”

“It’s two?!” shouts Donghyuck, grimacing. “Oh, God. Okay, yeah – you’re right. We needed to get up. God. Nearly twelve hours. God. I can’t believe this.”

“I can,” Jaemin teases. “You don’t drink all that often, do you? It’s totally normal for you to need longer to recover, I think. You had quite a lot though, didn’t you?”

“Why do you say that?” asks Donghyuck, tilting his head to the side.

Jaemin tosses himself into a chair, shrugging. “Well, I’m just saying – you traded some words with Hyunjin last night at the door which were a bit out of character for you. I was pretty surprised, to be honest. I didn’t know you had it in you. I think he’s going to leave us alone for good now, though.”

Blanching, Donghyuck holds his head in his hands. “Oh, God… What did I say?” Jaemin laughs and Donghyuck launches himself forward, taking Jaemin by the shoulder, shaking him. “Jaemin Na! What did I say?”

“Nothing bad! Nothing bad,” Jaemin says with a smile. “I promise. You just really convinced him to give up on pursuing me. Do you really not remember?”

“I mean, I kind of remember running into him, but it’s kind of blurry and I’m under the impression that the exchange didn’t last all that long, seeing as my next memory is from us standing on the sidewalk as you forced me to smile.” Donghyuck settles back on the chair beside Jaemin’s sighing. “Please tell me it wasn’t all that long.”

“It was pretty short. I think Hyunjin got to say all of two things before you ripped him a new one and pulled us out of the house. I think it was pretty amusing. It was a new side to you that I don’t think I ‘ve seen.” Reaching out, Jaemin ruffles Donghyuck’s hair. “It’s okay. You didn’t say anything bad. I promise.”

Donghyuck looks skeptical, but he goes along with it anyways. “Okay. I believe you, then.”

Jaemin laughs.

He hopes that Donghyuck doesn’t remember Jaemin kissing him on the forehead and calling him beautiful.

“You’re being weird again,” Donghyuck says seriously as Jaemin looks up from his phone.

“How so?” Jaemin asks. For what it’s worth, Jaemin thinks that he was normal. That he didn’t hesitate or frown or freak out over anything out of the ordinary. Donghyuck, however, has always been perceptive. Will always be perceptive when it comes to Jaemin. There’s nothing to be surprised about.

Donghyuck waves his hands around before shaking his head. “I don’t know how to explain it, but, like, since the party a few weeks ago you’re just… different. It’s not bad or anything, but you’re just, like… different. Does that make sense? It’s not like you’re hiding something or anything. You’re just not the same… somehow. I must sound crazy.”

Jaemin thinks carefully. Has he changed since the party?  Jaemin doesn’t think he had. If anything, things have gone back to how they were before the semester began. He wonders what exactly Donghyuck is homing in on. “I can’t tell you. I don’t really think that I’ve been acting different. Are you sure that you aren’t the one acting different?”

“I don’t… I don’t think so,” Donghyuck replies hesitantly. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m the one acting different. Have I?”

His phone is deposited onto the bedside table as he peers at Donghyuck thoughtfully. Had Donghyuck been acting differently? Jaemin isn’t too sure about that, either. “I don’t think so,” Jaemin answers slowly. “Though, I am worried that you’ve been sick for a while. You run a fever a lot.”

“I keep telling you, it’s not a fever, Nana.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes as he slouches back against the foot of the bed. “You’re just an idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot,” teases Jaemin with a smile. Donghyuck, in response, pulls the hood of his hoodie – really Jaemin’s hoodie – over his head before hiding his face in his hand.

“You’re the biggest idiot. Such an idiot. You exhaust me.” Donghyuck sighs as Jaemin laughs, throwing his head back. “But I guess you’re right. You are my idiot. Which means that I should be used to you by now, huh?”

Jaemin, in response, beams. The throbbing in his heart still hurts – there’s no ignoring the way that his heart skips a beat every time he’s around Donghyuck. It’s just a part of existing at this point, though, really. Jeno calls him overdramatic – tells him that maybe the pain will go away if he confesses. Jaemin laughs at the idea, even though he knows it true – that the rejection would force him to move forward.

“You should be used to me by now,” agrees Jaemin with a nod. “Though I don’t think I was this stupid in high school, was I? Or growing up, really.”

“No. No, you were pretty idiotic growing up, too. Remember when you broke your arm jumping off the slide when we were, what, ten?” says Donghyuck with a laugh.

Pointing in Donghyuck’s direction, Jaemin frowns. “You jumped off the slide, too! You just had a better landing!” He receives an unimpressed expression in response, leading to him sulking, reaching out for his phone. Sure, Jaemin had been stupid and tried to cushion his landing with his hands. And, sure, he jumped off the taller of the two slides. Those are simply technicalities.

“You’re an absolute idiot, Nana. How did you get this far in life?”

“Thanks to you,” he answers honestly with a smile. “If not for you, I’m pretty sure that growing up would’ve been a bigger shitshow than it already was.”

“You kept me out of trouble, too, you know,” Donghyuck, pats around for his phone before picking it up, “so it goes both ways.”

As Donghyuck scrolls through his phone, Jaemin observes him, quietly. He supposes that they did keep one another out of trouble while growing up. They were both reckless growing up – preoccupied in having adventures and living life in a fun way, though their methods were different. It’s why they kept one another out of trouble in the first place. Their methods of enjoys life were different – are still different, really.

It doesn’t get in the way of their friendship, though. It never has, and, to the surprise of many, their friendship is strong for it. Donghyuck likes to joke that it’s the old phrase opposites attract, but Jaemin has come to the conclusions that it’s only something along those lines. It’s not the whole story – there are other parts, and it all leads down to, in the end, the two of them simply working together. Something about their friendship in this lifetime is serendipitous, but Jaemin largely chalks it up to fate.

“Remember that time you and I had detention together for trying to empty Jello packets into the school pool?” asks Donghyuck with a laugh. “God, we thought we were fucking hilarious for trying it, and, in the end, it was a total failure. And my mom wanted to murder us. At least your parents thought it was funny.”

“They were used to me doing stupid shit at that point.” Jaemin’s laugh is a mix of a pained cry and a genuine laugh, as Donghyuck kicks him. “And used to yours at that point, too. Your parents simply recognized that you weren’t actually a troublemaker, and it was usually my fault when we got in trouble.”

“Okay, but that time we tried to free all the frogs from the biology department was my fault, and you ended up taking the brunt of the blame, which was pretty messed up, I think,” Donghyuck argues, frowning. “In fact, most people didn’t think I was capable of any of that stuff – that’s why you’d always be the one in trouble. I hated that.”

“It is what it is. There’s no going back,” Jaemin replies softly. “I didn’t mind getting in trouble for you, anyways. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Better me than you, you know. I was already known for doing stupid shit – the punishments were jokes. Detentions? Whatever. And I never got a suspension. I didn’t rack up that many detentions. I was the class clown and treated as such.”

“I just wish that the administration respected you more; that’s all. And that they didn’t play favorites.” Donghyuck grimaces, shaking his head. “Even if I messed up right in front of them, they still wouldn’t punish me. Pass it off as a mistake. So messed up.”

“No one is perfect, Hyuck. It is what it is,” Jaemin replies easily, tapping Donghyuck with his foot. “Like I said – I didn’t mind getting in trouble for you. If we went back in time, I would do it all over again.”

“If we went back in time, I would try to make it all go differently,” admits Donghyuck. “If for anything so I wouldn’t have to be along when you were grounded.”

Jaemin throws his head back and laughs. He wouldn’t want anything to change because all the decisions – all the events – have led up to this moment. The two of them huddled on his dorm room bed, listening to Donghyuck’s current favorite album as it rains outside. It’s soothing. Comforting. Lovely.

Yeah – he doesn’t think that he would change anything for all the luck in the world.

His hands are clammy, and he thinks he might just vomit. The people around him shout and scream and cry and holler – all excitedly, happily, contently. Jeno stands next to him, hand on his back acting something like an anchor until he pulls away to examine Jaemin carefully. Jaemin is careful not to meet his gaze, instead content to observe the faces that pass him by.

“… Do you want to sit down? It might do you some good. Or we can wait outside for him.” Jeno frowns as he shakes his head. Jaemin wavers slightly at his friend’s disapproval. “It won’t do you any good to pass the fuck out before we even see him.”

“I’m not gonna pass out,” mutters Jaemin, shaking his head. Regardless, Jeno reaches out to steady him. “I’m serious – I’m fine, Jeno.”

“Just being careful.” Jeno shrugs before grinning. Around them, the noise is dying out, slowly. It’s not immediate, and there’s still a decent crowd of people around them, though Jaemin finds that he an breathe a little easier. “People are starting to clear out, so he should be able to find us.”

“Do you think he’ll like the flowers? Oh, fuck, what if it’s weird? I panicked in the florist and I didn’t know what to get, and so I just word vomited and apparently I bought red roses.” Jaemin whips his head to the side to look at Jeno, who sends him an unimpressed look. He knows he deserves it – he really does – but it doesn’t help the panic that rises in his stomach. “Jeno. Help me.”

“Oh, look.”

Jaemin is breathless. It’s a common occurrence around Donghyuck, really, though with a bouquet of flowers in his arms, Jaemin thinks that he could die happy seeing his best friend smile that bright. Beside him, Jeno is saying something, but Jaemin can’t really hear him; not when Donghyuck makes eye contact with him and barrels forward. He’s quick to move the flowers as a body collides with his.

“Hi.”

“You came. God, I was so afraid you weren’t gonna be able to make it,” Donghyuck says, arms tight around his waist as he looks up at Jaemin, eyes wide. “What did you think?”

“I think you were phenomenal. As always. You always have been, right?” teases Jaemin, brushing Donghyuck’s bangs out of his eyes. “Renjun did your makeup for tonight, didn’t he?”

Donghyuck giggles while he nods, arms still loosely around Jaemin as he blinks. “What do you think?”

“You always look nice, but you look especially nice tonight,” admits Jaemin with a smile. “And I brought you flowers. As promised.”

Donghyuck falls quiet as he lets go of Jaemin to take the flowers. The whole situation, Jaemin realizes, is a silent call to the stupid contract – the stupid idea that Jaemin managed to concoct all those months ago. His stare as he looks at the flowers is thoughtful before he smiles softly. “I love them. Thank you.”

“They ran out of sunflowers – it sucks, I know – and the quickest thing I could think of off the top of my head were roses, so, I…”

Jaemin falls silent – stops himself before he can admit to Donghyuck that even if everyone associates him with sunflowers, Jaemin has always seen him as a rose. It’s disgustingly romantic in the sort of way that Jaemin never wanted to be. It’s scary, he thinks, admitting things like that.

“I’m gonna get going, I think,” interjects Jeno with a smile.

“Oh! Jeno! Hi!”

“Hello to you, too. I’m glad you finally remembered I’m here,” Jeno teases. “There’s a house party at Jisung’s, and I promised I would stop by to help set up since I bailed on the last one. It’s invite only, but you two are more than welcome to come if you’d like, as always.”

“We’ll think about it. Thanks, Jeno,” Jaemin says, waving as his friend disappears into the crowd. Before Donghyuck can say anything, Jaemin tugs him along. “Before we make any decisions, let’s get back to the dorm and get these flowers into a cup of water or something.”

The concert hall is crowded, and he shouldn’t have expected any less – not with how many students were performing in the spring recital. Jaemin doesn’t realize until they’re outside of the venue that their hands are linked together, the warmth of Donghyuck’s palm grounding. It’s natural. It still is. It will be for the rest of his life, he thinks.

“One year down, one more to go,” Donghyuck says, swinging their hands back and forth. “It’s weird thinking about it, don’t you think?”

Jaemin tilts his head to the side in thought before shaking his head. “To be honest, I don’t particularly enjoy thinking about it. It’s just another reminder that I need to figure out what the fuck I’m doing with my life.” When Donghyuck doesn’t reply, he takes the opportunity to look at his best friend, who stares back at him carefully. “What’s up?”

The response isn’t immediate, and Jaemin doesn’t expect it to be. He watches as Donghyuck observes him, carefully, eyes flickering across his face, to the scenery behind him, and back again. Donghyuck is searching for something, and Jaemin isn’t quite sure what it is – what he can do for him. He won’t know until Donghyuck tells him, and Jaemin is quick to figure out that he’s not going to get a clear-cut answer. Not tonight, at least.

“Nothing,” he answers softly after a while.

“Well that sounds like a big fat lie, but I’ll let you have it for now. It’s your night, after all,” Jaemin replies with a shrug. “We can talk about whatever’s bothering you when you’re ready. The future isn’t something we really have control over at the moment, right? Why worry about it now?”

“Because we need to know soon.”

Humming, Jaemin nods. “Sure. You’re right about that. We do. But you just finished your second to last spring recital and I think tonight should be a night to celebrate instead of worrying about it.” He tugs Donghyuck to a stop, staring at his best friend carefully. “Let’s celebrate what you’ve accomplished already, and let’s think about the future tomorrow. Or after finals. Preferably after finals.”

Donghyuck is close to crying, for a moment, and then he’s nodding, tugging Jaemin along. “You’re right. We should be celebrating.”

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Jaemin says gently, stopping as Donghyuck tugs him to a halt in front of the house. It’s familiar enough to the both of them. There’s a collection of memories they both have stored from their last visit here, though they’re both very different to the degree which they remember. “There’s nothing keeping us here. We can always head back and call it a night.”

“No – no, no. I want to be here. Really. I just… he won’t be here, will he?”

“… Hyunjin?”

Donghyuck frantically shushes him, pressing a hand over his mouth. “Don’t be so loud!”

He reaches up to pull the hand away from his mouth with a thoughtful expression. “I figure he’s gonna be here, Hyuck. He’s pretty close with Han, if I remember correctly. If that makes you uncomfortable, I can let Jeno know. Though, I don’t think Jeno’s too big of a fan of him, either.”

“It’s just… It’s embarrassing,” whines Donghyuck, pulling Jaemin towards the door. “I barely remember anything I said to him!”

“Yeah, well, whose fault is it that you got so drunk?”

“Yours. Because you left me with Yukhei and Renjun,” retorts Donghyuck, reluctant to let go of Jaemin’s hand. It’s not for long, really – just to send a quick, Outside get the door, to Jeno – but it’s enough to leave Donghyuck scrambling to hold it again.

They stand in the cool spring night in silence, content to wait in one another’s company until the door opens. Music, previously muffled, hits them like a proverbial freight train as Jeno pulls them into the house, eyes unfocused, grin wide. He’s pulling Jaemin into a headlock and pulling him towards the kitchen before Donghyuck can say anything, stumbling along for the ride.

“You took fuckin’ forever!” shouts Jeno. “What’s with that? What d’ya want to drink? Juice good enough? Good!”

Neither of them are given a chance to reply and find themselves standing in the tiny kitchen, sticky cups filled with a mix of who knows what in their hands. Donghyuck opens and closes his mouth several times before shaking his head and choosing to take a drink instead of questioning Jeno’s current state. Jaemin realizes, as he sips thoughtfully, that Donghyuck never has seen Jeno like this – unbridled, destressed, let loose.

It’s several seconds before Donghyuck finally speaks. “… So. Jeno.”

“He really knows how to let loose,” Jaemin replies with a grin. “He’s a fucking riot to party with. That might be the last time we see him around this house tonight. He’ll be moving around faster than either of us will be able to keep up with.”

“Wild. Total one-eighty from daytime Jeno.”

Jaemin blinks once before he laughs. It’s a full sound, and he’s bowled over, juice spilling out of his cup and onto his sneakers. “Daytime Jeno.”

“What? I’m being serious!”

“Daytime Jeno is just Party Jeno with a filter,” Jaemin says with a laugh. The sobering effect of his own realization is immediate. Party Jeno, he remembers, has no filter. Party Jeno, Jaemin realizes with a mild surge of panic, grabs Jaemin by the shoulders and screams in his face about what a wimp he is for not confessing to Donghyuck properly.

“Jaemin?”

“… Party Jeno has no filter,” says Jaemin with a groan. “Fuck.”

“Well,” Donghyuck starts carefully, pulling them to the side as a group walks in, “that’s never been an issue before, has it? It’ll be fine.”

In response, Jaemin downs the rest of his juice before tugging Donghyuck towards the large Tupperware that sloshes precariously close to the lip of the container as Jaemin gets himself more. Donghyuck watches him with mild concern while drinking his own.

“You okay there?” asks a new voice. Jaemin’s blood runs cold as he recognizes who it is.

“We’re great, thanks,” Donghyuck answers in a sickly-sweet voice.

Hyunjin clears his throat awkwardly before rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, I’ll, uh… Can I just?”

“Yes?”

“Are you two back together?” he asks, gaze flickering to their joined hands before looking back at Donghyuck. He seems to debate with himself internally before shaking his head. Hyunjin is backing away slowly at this point, gaze wary. “Actually, pretend I didn’t even ask. I’m just gonna walk out of here. You didn’t see me.”

Jaemin blinks before he mutters, “What the ever-loving fuck was that about?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad he’s not sticking around,” Donghyuck murmurs, shaking his head. “That was pretty bizarre, though, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not gonna put much thought into it.” Jaemin tugs on Donghyuck’s hand as he trails towards the door that Hyunjin left through. Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, letting himself be pulled along. “I think Yukhei and Renjun are here. Let’s go try to find them.”

“Right.”

Stopping, Jaemin turns to look at Donghyuck, who greedily downs the rest of his drink. It’s unsettling, and Jaemin knows that it’ll hit Donghyuck hard. “Donghyuck. Slow down. It’s okay. We can stay here for as long as you want. There’s no rush.” Donghyuck’s gaze, as he stares back, is borderline frantic as he shakes his head. “Hey – hey, hey, hey. Hyuck, what’s up?”

Donghyuck shakes his head again and Jaemin looks around, placing his cup on his table before pulling them towards the back door. It’s quiet outside, and he realizes that it’s only a matter of time until the party spills over into the backyard. He pulls them towards a pair of Adirondack chairs that Jaemin realizes were stolen from the main campus quad.

“Hyuck. If you don’t want to be here, we don’t have to be here. We can go whenever you want,” Jaemin says softly, rubbing circles onto the back of Donghyuck’s hand with his thumb. “What’s going on?”

“What if we’re not together for forever?” blurts out Donghyuck. His tongue is tripping up and he searches for Jaemin’s other hand as he stares at him with wide eyes. “Jaemin, we’re graduating next year. What if we don’t end up in the same place again?”

“Then we don’t.” Jaemin’s tone is gentle, though he’s terrified as the tears start to build up in Donghyuck’s eyes. “Hyuck, we already spoke about this. We can’t change where our future takes us. We’ve been really lucky this far. There’s no telling what’ll happen next. And we’ll be fine apart. You know we will.”

Donghyuck swallows loudly before attempting to pull Jaemin closer. “Jaemin, what if we aren’t? What if we only – what if it’s only because we’ve been close physically that we’ve stayed friends? What if you forget about me?”

“Donghyuck.”

Jaemin is firm as he twists his body to fully face his best friend. There’s something else bubbling under the surface, and Jaemin can’t tell what exactly is going on – what exactly Donghyuck is thinking. Why it’s coming to fruition now. Donghyuck isn’t settled by Jaemin’s soft smile – instead it only agitates him as he stands up, tearing his hands from Jaemin’s grip.

“No, Jaemin. I.” Donghyuck stops in his tracks and takes a deep breath as he shakes his head. There aren’t any tears – yet – but he wipes away at his eyes, the motion aggravated. “You don’t understand how much it… I have so many regrets, Nana.”

His heart stutters as he looks at Donghyuck, carefully this time. “Regrets?”

“What if us going to the same university was a mistake, Nana? What if it didn’t do us any good?”

“It’s a little late to worry about that now, isn’t it?” asks Jaemin shakily. “Why are you asking this?”

“What if this was bad for our friendship? All of this?” Donghyuck’s hands are waving around at this point as he shakes his head. “What if we made a mistake? Jaemin, I… I want to go back to normal so badly. I do. I really, really fucking do, but I can’t.”

He realizes, now, that he did make a mistake. That Jaemin, in the grand scheme of things, fucked up the very thing that he had worked so hard to preserve. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve asked you to help me. It was selfish.”

“Did you know?” asks Donghyuck softly. “Did you know I would say yes? Did you know that I would say yes because I’ve been in love with you for years now, and this was the closest I thought I would ever get to actually being with you?”

“Donghyuck?”

When Jaemin stands, Donghyuck bolts – back into the house to God knows where. The sound of his heart is louder than the music when he stands in the living room, gaze everywhere. Eventually, in his pocket, his phone vibrates.

Hey, Renjun types, I’m with Donghyuck. He’s pretty fucked up so we’re gonna take him back to our apartment. We’ll bring him by tomorrow morning.

Okay, Jaemin replies. Just okay.

Donghyuck tries to run away, and he would be successful if he was running from any other person. Jaemin simply isn’t eager to give him the luxury of escaping. It’s how they find themselves sitting at their kitchen table, Jaemin’s phone going off in his bedroom. He should be in class – his last one of the semester – though he figures that there isn’t anything to miss. That this holds precedence.

It’s silent for the longest time between them. Jaemin hates it. He can feel the thousands of words that hang over their heads, unsaid. They’re heavy, and the threat of their fall is overwhelming. Jaemin can’t tell if this is what he wants or more than he bargained for. He thinks that it’s probably a mix of the two.

“Listen!” Donghyuck says, voice high. “I was just – I wasn’t in my right mind. I was upset by Hyunjin being there, and so I said things I didn’t mean to say.”

“Oh.” Jaemin falls quiet, leaning back in the chair to stair at the ceiling. Donghyuck’s chair scrapes against the floor, and he’s quick to reach out, grip loose on his wrist. “I… I get it. But – fuck. Jeno is gonna have a fucking field day with this one. He told me to be honest with you sooner, and he told me that it would blow up in my face if I wasn’t.”

“What does Jeno have to do with this?”

“Jeno was the one who told me it was a bad fucking idea, and Jeno was the one who told me it was a bad fucking idea because I’ve been in love with my best friend for as long as I’ve really understood the concept,” Jaemin replies steadily.

He’s run through this scenario more times than he can count in his head. Not this exact one, of course, but ones like it. Where the truth has to come out; that there’s no other option. No other way to keep Donghyuck in his life in some way, shape, or form. Jaemin is a beggar, not a fighter in life, as he has learned, in everything except for when it comes to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck is still, and Jaemin fears that the slightest movement will scare him away, so he’s slow as he stands, meeting Donghyuck’s puzzled gaze.

“What?” whispers Donghyuck.

“Jeno told me it was a bad idea,” Jaemin parrots.

“No! No, not that – the.” He falls quiet as he takes a step forward. His hand shakes as he laces their fingers together. “Jaemin.”

“You mean the part where I’m in love with you?” he asks with a rueful smile.

His brow furrows before he steps closer again, gaze careful as he examines Jaemin. Donghyuck is always careful – always the more considerate, thoughtful one between the two of them. “Are you being serious?”

“I’m always serious when it comes to you,” Jaemin answers truthfully. Because he is. Perhaps not truthful, but Jaemin is always serious. “I am in love with you, Donghyuck Lee, and I have been for years now, as embarrassing as that might be. Oh, shit. Unintended rhyme.”

Donghyuck’s laugh is gentle at first, before it bubbles into one of those laughs that starts deep and builds and builds until it becomes unbridled, untouched happiness. Jaemin stands there, confused; confusion only continuing to grow as Donghyuck presses his forehead to Jaemin’s shoulder, laughter fading into giggles until he’s left with nothing but hiccups as a remnant of his joy.

“Jaemin Na, you amaze me a little more each and every day.”

“What did I do?” he asks, tilting his head to the side as Donghyuck smiles up at him.

“You’re just… you.” Donghyuck’s answer is simple, and his shrug is small. It’s as if he has it all figured out. Jaemin thinks that he just might.

Humming, Jaemin smiles back. “Well… is that a good thing?”

“The best thing,” answers Donghyuck honestly, free hand pressed against his cheek. “I wouldn’t want you any other way, I don’t think.” Standing on his toes, he smiles. “I love you, Jaemin Na,” he whispers against Jaemin’s lips, “and I’m happy to hear that you love me, too.”

“Now, you know, Renjun might tell us it’s a little too early to say the word love if I remember his very pointed soliloquy he gave in the library that one time,” teases Jaemin with a smile.

Donghyuck presses his lips to Jaemin’s gently before rolling his eyes. Jaemin can’t help the smile that spreads across his face with Donghyuck sighs. “Renjun wanted you to hear that. Well, me to hear that, actually. He was telling me I was being dramatic about being in love with you and when I pretended to ignore him, he went off on that rant.”

“How Renjun of him.”

Laughing, he shakes his head before pulling Jaemin towards his bedroom where his alarm still rings. “Yeah, well,” Donghyuck says, turning off his alarms, “you know how Renjun is. Tough love and all. It’s why we’re so close, I think. He was always honest with me when I needed it the most. He was my Jeno.”

“Neither of us really listened to them, though; did we?” asks Jaemin, smiling. It’s a mix of amused and upset.

It’s easy, when all things are said and done, to look back on the past and realize where things could have reached their end sooner. They’re only human, he reasons in his head. There was only so much that they could see out of their immediate vicinity. Jaemin couldn’t read Donghyuck’s mind – see the confessions that he kept close to himself. And Jaemin doesn’t think he would’ve wanted that. It would be forcing him, almost. Forcing the situation to become something it wasn’t ready to be yet.

“No, but we’ve always been pretty stubborn; haven’t we?”

Jaemin distinctly remembers their mothers saying something along those lines when they were thirteen. “As far as I can remember, unfortunately.”

He sits on the edge of his bed and watches, carefully, as Donghyuck walks towards him; takes a hand in his and looks thoughtful. Donghyuck is always thoughtful. The situation is messy, and Jaemin’s mind moves a thousand miles a minute, but, within all the chaos, Donghyuck finds time to think. To be careful and mindful, and it’s one of the many reasons that Jaemin thinks life is better with Donghyuck by his side.

“There’s still plenty for us to talk about, Jaemin. I don’t think this is done. Or over or whatever. There are things we still need to figure out,” Donghyuck admits, tracing patterns on Jaemin’s palm. “But I like to think we’ve taken a step in the right direction.”

Jaemin smiles, pressing his lips against Donghyuck’s cheek. “Yeah. I do, too.”

Their apartment feels full – in a good way. Finals are over, for the most part – officially over as Renjun double, triple, quadruple checks to see that his email and the essay attached have sent, before slamming his laptop shut and reaching for the two-buck-chuck on the table, drinking straight from the bottle. Yukhei, ever the attentive boyfriend, rubs his back comfortingly, before stealing the bottle to pour it into a glass.

“Ah. We’re all done,” Jeno said, leaning his back against the wall. His feet stick out from under the coffee table and he knocks them together as he sighs. It’s a deep sort of sigh that signals the release of all the built-up tension in his body. Jaemin relates. “Finally. Semester: done.”

“Finally,” groans Jaemin, sinking further down until he’s barely on the couch. Jeno pushes his foot away, and Jaemin responds with a half-hearted kick. “I can’t believe the year is finally over. This is fucking amazing. Sometimes I’m like, ‘Wow! I love the freedom of college!’ And then other times I remember it’s a fucking soul-sucking hellhole, and the end of the semester is the path to freedom.”

“What’s everyone up to this summer?” asks Yukhei, sprawling out on the chair, Renjun laid out over him. He looks the most relaxed out of all of them, and Jaemin thinks that he deserves it. “Renjun has an internship in Washington, and I’m working at a summer camp for most of the time. Most. I’m taking a week or two off to visit Renjun. And then I’m headed to my job in New York.”

“I have an undergraduate research opportunity at a university out in California,” Jeno replies, shrugging. “I’m genuinely looking forward to it. I think it’s going to be fun. Good experience and what-not. Hyuck? Jaem?”

“I have an internship in the city – I’m also working in a lab for an REU,” Donghyuck answers, prodding until Jaemin sits up so he can place his legs on Jaemin’s lap. “And Jaemin is headed home for the summer. Right?”

Jaemin is startled as he looks up from his phone. “What?”

“Summer plans, Jaem – keep up,” Jeno jokes good-naturedly. “Are you really going back home for the summer?”

Leaning back, Jaemin sighs. Scoffing, he shrugs. “Yeah. Just got the email that I got my job at the supermarket back for the summer. Can’t wait to bag groceries for minimum wage.”

“Hey, you get more than minimum wage and both of us know that,” says Donghyuck, poking him in the side. Jaemin recoils before reaching out and grabbing Donghyuck’s hand, pulling him forward to press a kiss to his wrist. “Nana.”

“Disgusting,” Jeno deadpans. “All this time, I thought that it couldn’t get worse than Jaemin drunkenly crying over how much he loves Donghyuck, and, now, I’ve come to the realization that it does get worse: Jaemin being openly in love with Donghyuck.”

“They’ve been dating for a week,” interjects Renjun. “There’s no love going on yet.”

“Please.” Jeno rolls his eyes before pushing himself up to shuffle into the kitchen. There’s exaggerated banging around until he returns with a bag of Doritos and bottle of tequila. “They’ve been best friends for years now, and you’re telling me that they don’t love one another? They probably know one another better than couples who’ve been together for, like, ten years.”

Renjun says nothing. Instead, he takes a long drag of the cheap wine before humming. “I guess so.”

“I, for one, am immensely glad that everything worked out,” Yukhei says, taking a drink from Renjun’s glass. “It was hard knowing what was going on for everyone. I didn’t know who I could tell anything to! It was miserable. Now I don’t have to worry about telling Jaemin that Donghyuck has a big fucking crush on him by accident.”

Falling silent, Jeno shoves a Dorito in his mouth, thoughtful before he pours himself a shot of tequila. “Actually, I think all of the heartbreak and whatever could’ve been avoided if you did.”

“Well, yeah, but Renjun also probably would’ve been upset with me,” reasons Yukhei, “and it wasn’t really my business to interfere, anyways. Things fall where they may and so on. They would’ve gotten together even if we didn’t do anything. Plus, I bet Jaemin would’ve called me a liar if I said anything.”

Jaemin nods before adding a, “Yeah, probably.”

“Sorry that we weren’t the easiest to deal with,” Donghyuck says with a sheepish grin. “It all worked out in the end, though?”

“Now you can tell Hyunjin off while sober,” teases Renjun. At Donghyuck’s scandalized look, he throws his head back in laughter. “Oh, yes, Jaemin told us everything.”

“Nana!” Donghyuck whines, pouting. He shakes the arm that Jaemin holds until he realizes that it’s pointless, huffing instead.

Smiling, Jaemin presses a kiss to his cheek. “Please. You would’ve told them eventually, anyways.”

An eyebrow is raised in response and Jaemin tries his hardest to quench the smile on his face. Donghyuck sees this and pokes his cheeks, pulling them into a frown. “… And? So?”

Amongst the laughter, surrounded by friends, Jaemin feels complete. It’s been a long time coming, he thinks, this sort of happiness. And it’s not that he wasn’t happy. Happiness, in itself, is a fleeting sort of thing that comes and goes as it pleases. Jaemin has come to accept its nature, and accept the circumstances that have been, are, and will be handed to him.

Happiness, he thinks, is fleeting, but it can stay in the form of people. Happiness and joy invades his life in the form of the people that he holds dear.

Beside him, Donghyuck looks at him in curiosity. “What’s up? You’re kinda quiet today. Don’t wanna work that job at the grocery store that bad?”

“No,” Jaemin answers honestly. “I’m just happy. Tired, but happy.”

“Oh.” Relaxing, Donghyuck smiles. He leans forward to press his lips to Jaemin’s – it’s sweet, and Jaemin takes his hand in response. “I’m happy, too.”

Happiness is fleeting, though with these people, Jaemin thinks it might just last for forever.

In the kitchen, the novelty cat clock on the wall ticks incessantly. The seconds-hand, Jaemin notes, hasn’t actually moved in years. It simply ticks, unable to push forward. An inaccurate representation of time, really. He debates buying a new one. It won’t be the same, though he figures that replacement is fine in this instance. The clock is older than him, he thinks.

“Jaemin.”

Looking down, he blinks at the plates and cups stacked on top of one another, resting in his hands. When he was younger, they were heavy. They weighed more than he could life. He was relegated to carrying them all, one at a time. He’s older now, stronger, wiser – though, in the grand scheme of things, Jaemin wonders if he’s actually a little stupider. Not that he cares.

“Right. Coming.” Turning away, he leaves the broken clock behind.

“I can’t believe that my parents said finally,” groans Donghyuck, reclined on the couch. Jaemin walks in, plates and cups in hand as he shrugs. “Like, what does that mean, finally? Like, what a response to your son telling you that he’s dating someone! Your parents said it, too. Why aren’t you complaining?”

“Because my parents knew I had a crush on you,” Jaemin answers, matter of fact. It’s succinct and the truth – Jaemin couldn’t hide it from his parents. Not when he would come home, sometimes, and just wallow around the house, dragging his feet. His mom was quick to knock some sense into him – quick to lift his spirits. They were always perceptive when it came to his moods. He’s both grateful and mortified.

Donghyuck splutters as he sits up, Jaemin taking the chance to occupy the now empty space. While his boyfriend flounders, he opens the pizza box and places a slice on each plate before reaching for the Sprite. A compromise, as always. It’s routine – normal for them, though there’s something different. There will be something different, for a while, really.

Arms are wrapped around Jaemin’s middle as Donghyuck presses his cheek against his arm. He’s recovered nicely, eyelashes fluttering as he blinks rapidly. “What do you want to do after the movie?”

“Nap,” Jaemin answers honestly. He knows that Donghyuck wants to go outside and explore all the things outside – together, again, though in a different way, but here’s a deep-rooted exhaustion in him every time the semester ends. He never really gets rid of it, though sleeping for days does help alleviate it some. Donghyuck pinches his side and he jerks. “What?”

“I’m leaving in a few days and you want to spend your time napping?” huffs Donghyuck.

Jaemin thinks carefully before nodding. “… Yeah. Kind of.”

“You never change, Nana.” Donghyuck laughs quietly as Jaemin adjusts himself to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“I’ll try not to,” Jaemin answers honestly. “Now, let’s eat this before the pizza gets cold –”

“I like cold pizza –”

“No, you don’t. Every time it gets cold you have me warm it back up,” retorts Jaemin. Donghyuck says nothing, pouting as he takes the plate. He rolls his eyes before starting the movie. It’s not like he’s going away for forever, and it’s not like he’s going to be sequestered away, unable to communicate away with the outside world. It’s the time difference, really, that Jaemin knows they’ll need to circumvent. It won’t be the first time, though.

Donghyuck sits up and smiles as he speaks. “Remember the first summer that you didn’t go to Korea? We had no idea what to do, so we spent most of our time loitering around the park. Or watching the same movie again and again and again until we could quote it. From memory.”

“I still know every line from that one scene in Peter Pan.” They fall into silence and Jaemin smiles. He feels content.

“… Is it weird to say that I’m gonna miss you?” Donghyuck pauses, before adding, “In a different sort of way, now that I’m allowed to. I mean, I could before, but it’s, you know… It’s different now. I can miss you in a different way because I love you in a different sort of way.”

“It makes sense,” Jaemin says with a smile. “I guess I feel the same, though I guess I’ve missed you in a different way for a long time now.”

“It’s not my fault you thought pretending you weren’t in love with me for eight years was your method of coping,” murmurs Donghyuck. He squirms to sit up, before holding Jaemin’s face in his hands. The movie is long forgotten and Jaemin knows that the pizza has already started to go cold. “It is my fault for thinking that I could pretend that I didn’t love you for four.”

“We were just trying to protect ourselves,” Jaemin says softly, rolling his eyes as Donghyuck squishes his cheeks. “What? Am I wrong?”

Donghyuck puffs out his cheeks, nodding his head no. “You’re not. But it took us so long to take that leap, huh?”

“Jeno says it’s because we’re idiots.”

“Maybe,” Donghyuck answers honestly. “But, we’re here now, aren’t we? And half the fun is the journey to the destination.”

“That’s a relatively positive outlook on the emotional anguish we put ourselves through,” teases Jaemin. “I like it, though.”

“It suits us, I think,” Donghyuck reasons, pressing their foreheads together. “More than anything, I think that I’m glad we’re finally here, though.”

Jaemin agrees. He’s glad to finally be here, beside Donghyuck as not just his best friend, but his boyfriend. In the grand scheme of things, he realizes, it shouldn’t have taken this long. That the self-imposed misery only prolonged the suffering. Not that the Jaemin of the past knew what the Jaemin of today does. And now isn’t really a time to regret things that have already happened, Jaemin decides.

“What’re you thinking about?” asks Donghyuck. “You only smile that big when you’re thinking about something that makes you happy.”

“And what if that something that makes me happy is you?”

“What about me makes you smile that big, Jaemin Na?”

Holding him closer, Jaemin hums in thought. “Everything, I guess. Which is pretty corny, huh?” Donghyuck confirms through a nonchalant hum. “Regardless, all things provided, you really do make me happy. You always have made me happy, regardless of the circumstances. Even when I told myself that you didn’t return my feelings, you made me happy.”

Donghyuck smiles before pulling Jaemin closer. Even with all the ambient noise, Jaemin is sure that Donghyuck can hear the sound of his heart beating twenty-one miles a minute as he presses their lips together, softly. It’s gentle and shy and Jaemin thinks that he won’t ever get tired of being with Donghyuck. That there’s not a chance of it given the years they’ve already spent together.

There was nothing magical about their confession, nor was there anything particularly special about the days that followed. It was mostly reflection and quiet words – conversations that they should’ve had years ago. Better late than never, Jeno had said. Jaemin agrees.

Jaemin no longer has to worry about an existence without loving Donghyuck – or at least for the moment, he doesn’t. Beside him, Jaemin feels invincible, like he could stop the world from turning with his bare hands. Like he could stare at the sun for hours, because nothing truly shines as bright as Donghyuck. It is still Jaemin and Donghyuck, Donghyuck and Jaemin, two best friends against the world.

Only now, it’s just the slightest bit different.

“And what are you thinking about now, Jaemin Na?”

“Still you.”

“Still everything?”

“Always everything.”