Archive of Our Own ^beta

“In my defense, you didn’t say you were coming over.”

Johnny says it as soon as he swings the door open, just a few seconds after Doyoung buzzes in. He’s halfway buttoning down a dress shirt matched with puppy-patterned pajamas, and Doyoung pulls the hood of his jacket off his head to furrow his brows. “You look ridiculous.”

“Listen, my boss is in New York. It’s 10AM for him, and apparently, so is it for me,” Johnny explains, sidestepping as he allows Doyoung to scurry in.

“Ah,” Doyoung sighs, the sound of unsurprised disappointment in his voice evident.

“I don’t want to hear it, Doyoung. Not now.”

Doyoung makes a motion of zipping his mouth shut as Johnny shuts the door.

As much as they always get into arguments about how Johnny should quit and not let himself be stepped on by his superiors, it isn’t practical for him to be out of a job, especially with Hyuck moving away for college soon. Quitting was just out of the question, and although it’s against Doyoung’s stance as someone with a degree in Sociology to see his brother continuously suffer like this, he understands that he’s still the one responsible for putting food on their table.

“Thought you’d be busy hanging out with your friends tonight,” Johnny hums, slipping into a coat splayed out on the couch. He snugs it fit across his waist, and if Doyoung was a greedy, inconsiderate capitalist pig based in New York, then he’d be fooled into thinking Johnny looks his professional best. From the waist up, at least.

“Yeah, well…”

In a perfect world, then yes, Doyoung would be busy hanging out with his friends on a Friday night. It’s what he’s been doing for the past two years of his time in grad school, so it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he were to do it again today: hop in on a bar Yuta finds on 12th Street, pay for a ridiculously expensive bottle of tequila he doesn’t even get to drink from, suffer through the embarrassment as his friends shove him over to an unknowing stranger, pay for their cab as he ensures they make it back home alive , and walk back to his apartment exhausted, sweaty, and a few hundred dollars poorer.

“Change of plans,” he finishes off. It isn’t a lie, per se, but it isn’t entirely the truth either. Although they talk almost every day, he hasn’t been back to Johnny’s house in over two weeks, and it was the perfect excuse for Doyoung to drop by for a last-minute visit.

Lucky for him, Johnny doesn’t dive deeper to find out his true intentions. Instead, his brother nods. “Hey, listen. I’ll be in a meeting for I don’t know how long. You make yourself comfortable. There’s leftovers on the fridge, or if you don’t want anything–” Johnny pats his coat, reaching for the inside pocket and handing him pieces of crumpled bills, “–order something for yourself.”

“Oh, no no no, it’s okay,” he says quickly, shaking his head as he waves him off. “I just wanted to drop by, I'll be fine. See Hyuck, maybe. Catch up with Taeil.”

“Well, Taeil’s on a business trip and wouldn’t be back ‘til next week, and Hyuck is…well…” 

He motions his head at a closed door down the hall. Doyoung follows his line of sight and soon enough, he hears a faint ‘Noooo! God motherfucking shit! Shit! Shit!’ by his one and only beloved nephew.

“Not to be disturbed,” Johnny sighs. “I’ll deal with him later. Tell him he’s in trouble with me, will you?” He doesn’t wait for Doyoung to nod because he’s already running towards his makeshift office room, shouting, “If something important happens–” he stops to think, “–don’t bother me!”

And just like that, he grins that wide Johnny grin, and ultimately slams the door shut.

Doyoung sighs, collapsing himself down the couch for this short moment of solidarity. It’s been a long day at grad school, and he would’ve passed out like that, limbs sprawled out all over the place in the comfort of the soft cushiony sofa, if not for his phone frantically buzzing inside his pocket.

He grumbles as he fishes it out of his jeans and sees a flood of text messages from Jaehyun asking for his whereabouts. To be fair, Doyoung did bail out on them without warning, and given that he’s never openly complained about their Friday night tradition, it’s no surprise that his friends would think he’s enjoying it as much as they are.

Jaehyun’s caller ID dances on the screen, and Doyoung spends a few seconds staring at it, excuses running through his brain as he tries to come up with something mildly believable.

“Hey,” he says, bracing himself.

“Hey! Where are you? We’re outside your apartment and the door’s locked. Are you at The Hub already?”

Doyoung winces, the thought of Jaehyun and Yuta going all the way to his apartment fostering a pit of guilt in his stomach. “I… Sorry, Jaehyun. It’s just that…”

He hesitates, the words of courage in admitting he wants the wasted Friday nights to stop slowly getting lost in his train of thought. He knows it would bum his friends out if they heard the truth from him, and Doyoung hates– hates being the party pooper, hates nothing more than disappointing them.

“Errands,” he mumbles as he pulls himself up to sit down. If there’s anyone he’s disappointing, it’s himself.

“Errands?”

“Johnny needed help… with the… thing.”

“The thing,” Jaehyun says, unexpressive.

Screw it. “Yeah, the–”

“Oh, yeah, yeah! The thing you were talking about.” To be completely honest, no, there was never a ‘thing’ Doyoung had talked about. But Jaehyun is a good friend, too good that he’d catch Doyoung lying in the act and still let him get away with it. Hell, he’s the one lying for him right now. “It’s cool, Doyoung. Just– if you ever feel like catching up, we’ll be at The Hub.”

“Yeah,” he whispers silently just before Jaehyun hangs up. “Fuck.”

“You shouldn’t be swearing.”

Doyoung whips his head back to find Hyuck snickering at him. For some reason, he’s managed to sneak out of his room towards the kitchen counter without Doyoung noticing, and he’s sticking his head inside the fridge rummaging for something to eat.

“You’re one to talk,” he scoffs. Doyoung opens his arms out wide, a grin slowly creeping into his face to call him over for a hug. “Come here.”

It doesn’t take more than once for Hyuck to abandon the fridge, run up to him, and leap right into his arms. He wraps his arms on Doyoung’s waist and chokes him in his embrace that it sends Doyoung groaning, and possibly giving him a few bruised ribs, but Doyoung hugs back just as tight.

When Johnny and Taeil first told him that they were adopting, Doyoung was still in sophomore high, and having won the debate team for three consecutive years, they were worried he’d have a few reservations about adoptions that he’d like to openly point out. Surprising to them, Doyoung was more excited than they ever thought he’d be. He was only five years older, and Hyuck was an 11-year-old kid that’s been passed around from a handful of foster homes that never bothered being a home for him.

So Doyoung made a promise to become just that.

“I’m serious,” he says, pulling away as he pats him on the shoulder. “Your dad says you’re in trouble later.”

Hyuck’s jaw drops open. “Oh, shit. He heard that? Wasn’t he in a meeting?” he asks, eyes wide.

“There it is again.” Doyoung frowns. “Every neighbor within a five-mile radius heard that, and no, he answered the door for me before he could get to his office. You’re in trouble, mister.”

“Sh– Fu–”

“Hyuck.”

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it!” he whines, flopping down the couch beside him miserably. “It’s that stupid game’s fault. It gets so frustrating whenever I lose.”

Doyoung would’ve called him out for yet another swear word, but given the pout on his poor nephew’s face, maybe he’ll hear enough of it from his dad tonight. He’d allow himself to be the bigger person and let this one slide. 

“You know video games rot your brain, right?” he asks instead, no real menace to his voice.

“That’s highly outdated and not even scientifically proven,” Hyuck counters, shaking his head. “It just stems from a generation of hags where sitting in front of the tv was considered bad, but in reality, video games actually strengthen connections in the brain, especially if it’s from tactical games. I read it in an article saying sliding puzzles actually help people with PTSD. The misconception you old people have about video games was already refuted, you can’t use that against me.”

“Wow,” Doyoung laughs, genuinely surprised at Hyuck’s determination in proving him wrong. “That’s actually impressive. Also, don’t call me old, I’m five years older than you.”

“Dad says I’ve been spending too much time hanging out with you.” He shrugs, trying to suppress a smile. “Maybe it's not so bad.”

-

Hyuck [18:45]:
we adopted a dog

Doyoung [18:49]
A dog?

Hyuck [18:49]
yeppo
we named him BEAN :D
come over next week!!!!!!!!!

Doyoung [18:50]
Was the first one not enough?

Hyuck [18:52]
what first one?
oh
SHUT UP

Doyoung [18:52]
Hahahaha

Doyoung buzzes in the door the same time last week, but hearing the muffled noises of the TV inside, he tries the knob and finds it unlocked. When he slowly pushes it open, he suddenly hears Johnny yelp, "Wait! The door!" and Doyoung jerks it back by surprise.

He hears a thud that pushes the door shut along with him and the knob clicks, followed by barking. 

"It's Doyoung hyung!"

As soon as Johnny opens the door for him, he finds Hyuck holding Bean back by the newly-bought collar around his neck, and he greets them with a grin as he makes his way inside.

"Sorry for startling you," Johnny says, closing the door. "Bean gets too excited about discovering the outdoors. We’ll start walking him with a leash tomorrow just so he won’t run to God knows where.”

He watches Hyuck let go of him as Bean lurches towards Doyoung, and he flinches, shutting his eyes while he braces for the painful sting of a bite, but it never comes. Instead, he feels a heavy weight clinging on his torso. When he peeks his eyes open, he finds the grimy golden mane leaning in on him to stand, paws propped up as he tries to lick his hands in greeting.

Doyoung lets out a sound of amusement, petting Bean’s head to get him down. "He’s thinner than I thought."

“Camera adds ten pounds,” Hyuck snorts, heading towards him for a chokehold disguised as a hug.

He hears Johnny whistle and Bean is quick to his senses, turning around to sit in front of him while his tail wags joyfully. Johnny stoops down to meet him at eye level and messes the top of his head, evidently finding him irresistible. “We got him from a shelter. No one wanted to adopt him because he was the oldest one there.” He shrugs. “I figured we needed company anyway.”

“He seems like a good addition to the family,” Doyoung says, genuine.

Johnny beams back up at him with a glint in his eyes as bright as Bean's. “He’s perfect.” He stands back up, patting Bean to run along.

Bean does as told and races to the corner of the hall, then suddenly, Doyoung hears an audible yelp of his next victim. As he looks up, he finds Taeil lifting a pearly white dress shirt above his head so that Bean couldn’t reach. “Bean, no!” he begs, half-laughing as he struggles to keep him from staining it.

Hyuck clicks his tongue to get his attention. “Bean!”

Bean turns to him, choosing him as the newest person he would tackle, but Hyuck comes in prepared. He motions him towards the end of the hall, opening the door to his room and getting inside with him.

“I’ll keep him here until he gets tired,” he says finally before shutting it.

Taeil sighs in relief and Johnny laughs at his husband’s attempt at preserving the tidiness of his shirt. When he looks back at them, he beams at the sight of Doyoung. “Hey!” he greets, walking towards him for a tight hug. “I had a feeling it was you.”

“How are you, hyung?”

“Ah, same old,” he smiles, turning to Johnny to hand over the shirt. “For your meeting.”

Johnny grins and swoops in quick enough to steal him a peck on the cheek just before he heads towards his office. “You’re the best. I’ll be back in less than an hour. You keep yourselves busy.”

The both of them nod, and Doyoung waits as Johnny shuts the door to his room before turning to Taeil with a frown. “Is this a nightly thing for him now?”

Taeil sighs, shrugging. “You know how his job is.” Doyoung knows Taeil is against it just as much as he is, but the conditions aren’t always favorable to them for it to be changed, and it’s not like Taeil’s own job is the dandiest, either. He gives Doyoung a sad smile, patting him on the arm as he leads the conversation elsewhere. “What about you? How’s grad school?”

Doyoung winces at the question, reminding him of his own problems, and it’s enough to make Taeil laugh.

“But you’re graduating this year, right?”

“I am,” he nods. “I mean, I hope I am.”

If Doyoung was honest, he’d say a year and a half of grad school has been a pain in his ass more than he ever thought it would be. It wasn’t even an option to begin with if not for him wheeling himself a job after undergrad. He thought he scored big there but then came the reality of him being stuck in the bottom of the career ladder for a year, solely because his lack of a master’s degree sets him apart from his colleagues who were flourishing ahead of him.

It was completely ironic how Doyoung would read studies and studies about equality being the defining goal of socialism and still end up being a pawn of the inevitable politics that hails from it.

“If you want to spend the night here, just let me know,” Taeil says, as if hearing the audible exhaustion in his head. “The guest room is always free. Or if you'd like, we could set the extra mattress for you in Hyuck’s bedroom, if you don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

It’s already a quarter past 10, and taking the bus back home to his apartment would have him passed out before he could even get there, not to mention the likelihood of him getting mugged in the dark alleys of his street when he barely even has enough for himself.

"Staying with Hyuck sounds good.” He nods.

"Great. Let me find that mattress in the basement."

"I can help–"

"No, stay there," Taeil cuts him off. "Make yourself at home, I'll be right back."

Doyoung doesn't have enough time to argue about courtesy because Taeil is already on his way down the stairs, so he waits by the living room, skimming through the photographs hung up on the wall beside the TV. 

There are pictures of Johnny and Taeil on a Disney cruise they got on sale (Doyoung vividly remembers getting in a fight with Johnny about this when his brother refused to boycott), Hyuck on his middle school graduation, and even a picture of the four of them at his 16th birthday. Doyoung had his arm slung around his nephew while he unknowingly received devil horns from behind his head.

He chuckles, mumbling to himself, "That damn kid."

His phone rings inside his pocket and he mindlessly reaches over it, seeing a flood of messages in his inbox. He opens them to find blurry selfies of Jaehyun and Yuta and a bunch of acquaintances whose names Doyoung doesn’t entirely recall, and he sends them a quick ‘Stay safe and sober’ which he’s sure would be forgotten in the next few hours.

Just as he hits send, he hears a sound of crashing from inside Hyuck’s room.

“Ah, shit!”

Doyoung runs up to his door, barely even knocking as he swings the door open to find Bean running around the small confines of the room. He turns to Hyuck and follows his line of sight on the ground to find a split open PlayStation 4, seemingly knocked down from the shelf.

“Oh, you’re in trouble with your dads for real now,” Doyoung says, and Bean uses this opportunity to escape through the open door. 

Hyuck shakes his head miserably. “It wasn’t me,” he whines. “Will you please help me before one of them finds out?”

Doyoung nods. It’s not like he’s going to let him take an earful, especially when he’s spending the night over. Doyoung has covered up for him one too many times for Hyuck to know that he’ll help him either way.

“Grab the screwdriver,” he says, and Hyuck is quick to scurry outside to begin rummaging through his dads’ toolbox.

Doyoung leans down, inspecting the busted console. He makes a mental note to nag at Johnny for spoiling Hyuck so much with material objects, but he knows his brother wouldn't have the time to listen when there's a $500 PlayStation split open on the floor.

Hyuck races back to him, catching his breath with a couple of tools he thinks would come in handy, and Doyoung gets to work, patching the console back in place. Hyuck watches him anxiously, biting his nails and tapping his fingers on his knees impatiently, and for the first time in a while, obliges without hesitation when Doyoung asks him to hand something over. He would’ve teased him for it, but the poor boy looks like his life is on the line, so he saves it for some other time.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Hyuck asks, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Plug a CD in there and let’s find out.”

Doyoung can’t promise he knew precisely what he did when he tinkered with it, possibly made it worse, but as soon as Hyuck sets it up and slides in a CD, they let out a synchronized sigh of relief when it loads the game as if nothing had happened.

“Oh, thank god,” Hyuck fakes a sob, throwing his arms around Doyoung’s shoulders as he peppers him with kisses. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Now it’s Doyoung who’s pulling back and squirming away. “You owe me.” He wipes the dampness off his cheek, springing his body to land on Hyuck’s bed flat on his back. “For that, I’m taking the bed.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor, I don’t care,” Hyuck responds quickly. “You practically saved my life today.”

“I was joking.”

“And I wasn’t! Seriously, go sleep on my bed.” Hyuck stoops down to untangle the controller from the bottom of his shelf, sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed frame. “I’m gonna stay up all night playing anyway.”

“Is this the so-called tactical game you’ve been bragging about?”

“Guerilla Warzone. FPS game, survival of the fittest. You loot, make allies, and try to be the last man standing. That’s tactical.”

Doyoung snorts. “If you say so.”

There’s a knock on the door, and they both turn to find Taeil carrying the foldable mattress with a set of pillows and blankets. Doyoung hoists himself up from the bed, walking up to help set it down.

“Dad, I’m taking the floor,” Hyuck says, tucking the bedsheets in.

“Whatever your heart desires,” Taeil responds coolly, thankfully not finding anything suspicious about an almost-broken PlayStation. 

In fact, Johnny and Taeil have always been relatively lenient of him. Apart from the occasional scolding he gets for having an untidy room, or for forgetting to clean the kitchen after a midnight snack, Donghyuck isn’t a terrible kid. Although he does love annoying the hell out of Doyoung, he’s never done anything that he knows would disappoint his dads. Nor Doyoung.

He could tell Hyuck is nothing short of appreciative for having such cool parents (okay, maybe Doyoung considers himself cool, too), and perhaps Hyuck might even consider himself lucky. The thing is, so are his dads.

By midnight, Doyoung is already tucked in the comfort of Hyuck’s bed. The light from his phone illuminates his face, but not as much as the TV screen that’s keeping him from falling asleep. It doesn't help how Hyuck decided to plug the game on the stereo, too, so every gunshot, flag grenade, and cannon explodes through the entire room. ( ‘For the dynamic thrill!’ Hyuck reasoned out.)

Doyoung figures scrolling through his phone might as well wear him out, so he ends up mindlessly tapping through Instagram stories of both of his friends, still too busy making the most out of their weekend night. If he's not mistaken, he might've even caught a glimpse of Yuta making out with someone in the back.

Before his eyes could focus on its gaze, he hears a voice coming out from the stereo.

“Hey, Donghyuck. You up for a round with me?”

Doyoung’s eyes flicker up to the TV screen, a notification popping on the upper right corner that says ‘TY Track.’ It doesn't sound like any of the voices Hyuck was playing with earlier, the ones Doyoung quickly recognized as his friends in high school. This one sounded much older.

“Who are you talking to?” he asks, brows furrowed, but Hyuck doesn’t hear him.

“Lead the way, my guy.” He’s downing a can of milk soda with his headphones on, and his back is turned against Doyoung so he doesn’t see him hoisting himself up, crawling towards the end of the bed to snatch the thing off his head. “Hey!”

“Who are you and what do you think you’re doing?!” Doyoung interrogates, fixing the headset on his head and angling the mic piece as Hyuck looks back at him with horrified eyes.

“Hyung!”

He gets up to stand on the bed, stretching a hand to hold him back so Hyuck wouldn’t try and snatch the headphones. He could tell the guy on the other end is just as startled, because he stammers out a response, “I- uh–”

“What are you doing talking to a kid online? Are you some kind of thirty-year-old creep?”

“What? No! I’m not even in my late 20s yet!”

“Hyung, he’s a friend! And for your information, I’m eighteen!”

Doyoung snaps his head back at him, a mix of disbelief and disappointment. “What are you doing getting involved with strangers on the internet? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“We game, you old buffoon!” This time he successfully jumps high enough to steal the headphones off Doyoung’s head, sticking them back around his neck. “Sorry about him, he gets really paranoid.”

“Donghyuck,” Doyoung says. Saying his first name is something he never really uses on him no matter how hard his buttons get pushed, but this time he does. Any amount of exhaustion he had prior to this courses out of his body as soon as it hits him that his nephew is showing the least bit of vigilance, too lax for his own good. “You can’t just go around giving your real name out to people on the internet.”

“I- uh… maybe now’s not a good time.”

“No, hyung, wait!” Hyuck calls out. He turns to Doyoung, trying his best to talk him out of it. “Taeyong hyung is harmless. I game with him a lot, he’s cool. And as you can see–” he does a quick glance over his body, hands waving as if to present himself, “I’m still very much alive.”

“You don't even know if this person is using you for something."

"I can assure you that I'm not,” Taeyong’s voice is small on the speakers, and if Doyoung doesn’t know any better, he would’ve been swayed by his seemingly innocent demeanor. Unfortunately for Taeyong, he isn’t going to get away from him that easily.

"And why should I trust your word for it?” Doyoung asks, stepping closer to Hyuck. This time, he doesn’t bother stealing the mic away, but he leans in close enough for the intimidation in his voice to render on the other line. “You’re not preying on my nephew, aren’t you?”

"What? God, Jesus, no!" Taeyong responds quickly, choking on his own words.

"Hyung, please.” Hyuck is begging at this point, tugging at Doyoung’s sleeve desperately to stop him from any more words that’ll come out of his mouth. "You’re overreacting.”

"If your dads find out about this–"

"They know! I told you, it's not a big deal. I'm an adult now, for God's sake, I know when to find someone suspicious, and Taeyong hyung isn't." 

"You can watch us play if you'd like,” Taeyong suggests silently. “You'd see I'm not up to anything, I promise.”

“Just trust me on this,” Hyuck begs.

Doyoung watches his pleading eyes, and if this happened while the sun is up, then he wouldn’t bother backing down so soon, making both of their lives a little more inconvenient. But right now, it’s past midnight, and when the mental rollercoaster he just had worrying over Hyuck sets on him physically, he just doesn’t think he could keep up any longer.

He drags out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as Hyuck anxiously waits for what he’s about to say. “Just,” he starts. “Just turn the volume down, please? I need to get some sleep."

-

Doyoung has become a familiar face to Johnny’s household on Friday nights now. He no longer needs to ask for permission to sleep over because by the time he gets there, Hyuck’s room would already be set up for the both of them.

Some weekends, Johnny would wrap up a meeting early and the two brothers would have the chance to hang around for a quick chat before Johnny ends up fighting back a yawn and Doyoung urges him to sleep. That leaves him walking back to their room, pushing the door in quietly to not disturb Hyuck from a heated match (He assumes there are personal ranks at stake, but that’s as much as he knows.)

As soon as he peeks his head in, Bean is laid down beside Hyuck on the floor mattress, tail subtly waving when he sees Doyoung step in.

"Hey," Doyoung greets, and Bean only wags his tail harder.

Hyuck, however, doesn't spare him a glance. His eyes are too fixated on the game and his mouth is slightly dropped open in, too absorbed in his game that it makes Doyoung want to seal it shut before a fly buzzes in.

"Hide there until the map closes in."

Doyoung quickly notices the voice to be none other than Taeyong’s.

His voice has become familiar now too, almost routine-like. Both he and Hyuck eventually proved Doyoung wrong about his accusations when all he could witness was the two of them teaming up and strategizing how to win a game successfully and rank up. (“Awesome! I’m a Pro IV now!”)

Not that any of it made any sense to Doyoung. Still, he would choose the lack of knowledge on video game jargon over a bad hangover he never wanted in the first place.

Doyoung makes an uninterested glance at the screen to see Hyuck’s character crouching behind a rock to hide.

"Agh! This is too tense! I can’t do this!" Hyuck whines, kicking his feet everywhere that it sends Bean up on his feet, thinking he wants to play.

Doyoung snorts, and from the speakers, he hears Taeyong do the same. It isn’t until then does Hyuck realize Doyoung is around, and he motions him to come closer. 

He takes his headphones off as he hoists himself up from the ground. "Watch over for me. I gotta pee," he mumbles, handing the controller over as he dashes out of the room before Doyoung could refuse. "I'll be right back! Don't die!"

"What, no! I don’t…" Doyoung gapes at the wide open door, and any ounce of drowsiness gets Bean up on his feet to chase after Hyuck, leaving Doyoung alone to his devices which he had no idea how to use. 

"You don't really have to do anything,” he hears Taeyong say from within the game, almost reassuring in a sense. “ You'll be fine."

"If he ends up dead, I’m blaming you,” Doyoung mutters, taking a seat on the mattress. He squints at the screen, not entirely sure what’s going on but figures he really doesn’t need to try and do anything. 

They stay in painstaking silence like that for a few good seconds, and Taeyong must’ve realized it too because he’s the first to cut the dead air for conversation.

“So I never got your name.”

"Um…" Doyoung says hesitantly. "Let's not."

As if on cue, Hyuck shouts from across the hall, “Doyoung hyung! Do you want ramen?” and he hears a snort.

“Well, that was easy.”

He lets out a sigh, fighting back a chuckle from how timely the situation is. “I’m not hungry!” he shouts back, mindful enough not to be too loud so it doesn’t wake his parents up.

He’s not really being asked to do something other than watch over the game, but he couldn't help but try and understand whatever this game is that has Hyuck and his friends obsessed. "I gotta be honest, when he said tactical game, I was thinking something more in the likes of a sliding puzzle."

"A sliding puzzle?"

"Yeah, like, brain games and stuff." He frowns at all the random buttons on his controller. "How the hell do you even know what all of this means?” he mumbles, mostly to himself, but Taeyong answers anyway.

"It's not that complicated. X is jump, O is crouch. You reload with the square and switch weapons with the triangle. Shoot with L2 and–”

“Okay, stop,” Doyoung cuts him off. “My brain stopped listening to anything you just said after X.”

Taeyong laughs, and it’s a clear cut sign that the tension built between them is tearing down. A part of Doyoung feels terrible it was there in the first place, but now he’s just glad that Taeyong isn’t holding a grudge.

“Wait. So if you’re Hyuck’s uncle, why does he call you his brother?”

“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to phish out information from me, aren’t you?” Doyoung accuses, no real menace in his voice, and through his headphones, Taeyong bellows out a laugh. “What’s so funny? Cybercrime?”

Taeyong only cackles harder, something about his laugh oddly sweet and alleviating to Doyoung’s ears than he finds himself actually letting his guard down.

“We’re closer than most,” he finally says. “He’s more like a younger brother to me than a nephew. I’m only five years older.”

“So 23.”

“Fuck, I just told you my age, didn’t I?”

Taeyong hums. “To make it even, I’m 24.”

So Taeyong’s only a year older than him. 

Now he just feels worse for being so hostile when Doyoung himself has a close brotherly relationship with Hyuck. In any case, maybe it’s the same brotherly relationship Hyuck has with Taeyong, except in an entirely different world. A part of it makes Doyoung envious, knowing that Hyuck has others to lean on other than him. Somehow, it’s encouraging him to know more about the game just so he could look out for him there too.

Doyoung doesn’t realize what’s going on until he hears gunshots in the game that it makes him slightly jump from his place. Then a sign flashes on the entire screen, letting him know that they’ve claimed victory.

“Hey, we won,” he says, oddly delighted. “This is easier than I thought.”

“Now don’t get ahead of yourself,” Taeyong chuckles. “It was two against one, he was at a disadvantage.”

He didn’t really think Taeyong would be the one to invalidate his feelings so soon and ruin his moment of triumph. Maybe it wouldn’t kill to hurt his pride a little, too. “I figure I could beat you if I tried.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Isn’t there a one-on-one version of this? I think I’ve seen Hyuck play it with his friends before.”

“There is. But are you sure you want that?”

“Nothing will satisfy me more than crushing your dreams,” Doyoung muses, a part of him hoping it gets him to hear Taeyong’s melodic laughter again, and sure enough, he does.

“Jesus.You trash talk worse than Donghyuck.”

“Is that what it’s called?”

Taeyong doesn’t answer him, but if Doyoung’s ears don’t deceive him, he hears him mumble a silent “Cute...” and if Taeyong didn’t load the game so soon, he would've still been looming over the comment until he went crazy. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Taeyong says as soon as the game starts, and he wastes no time shooting Doyoung right in the head, claiming his victory in less than a second.

“Okay, in my defense, that was my first match.”

But then the next round loads, and Doyoung watches himself get shot again, the same quick and clean bullet shooting right to his unarmed and defenseless head.

“Second.”

“I wasn’t ready!” he groans, and it’s not that he intended to make Taeyong laugh, but there it is again, and before Doyoung knows it, he finds himself smiling to the sound of it.

“Okay,” Taeyong says, starting the next match. “You can kill me this time. I’ll allow it.”

Doyoung grumbles. “Very funny.” But he’s not one to back down on a chance to score, so he aims the crosshairs right at Taeyong’s unmoving head. What did he say again? Shoot with L2?

“Shoot with L2. Shoot with L2,” he mutters to himself as he tries to find the button, not even realizing he’s saying it out loud. If Taeyong did hear it, he doesn’t mock Doyoung for it, just patiently waits for his own assassination.

As soon as Doyoung finally finds the button, he taps on it once, watching the bullet shoot straight to Taeyong’s head.

Then he wins.

“Happy?” 

“Absolutely satisfied,” he grins.

Soon enough, Doyoung starts getting the hang of it. It isn’t particularly hard when he realizes the first instinct should be is to duck, which is the O button, and he gets his finger ready as soon as it loads, hiding behind a crate before Taeyong could claim another win against him. More often than not, Taeyong ends up victorious, but Doyoung still manages to sneak up on him every now and then.

“Pretty good for a first-timer,” Taeyong admits after the third time Doyoung manages to land a shot on his back.

“What can I say? I’m a quick learner. Give me a few days and I bet I’ll be equally as good as you. Or better.”

“Hey, Doyoung.”

“What?”

“Ready to eat your words?”

Doyoung dies, shamefully, but within good reason.

The way Taeyong said his name was enough to take him by surprise, and he was nowhere near ready to hear it roll off his tongue so soon, so his reflexes weren’t quick enough to dodge a fatal shot to his chest. 

Taeyong sighs in satisfied relief, but before Doyoung could ask for a rematch, the door kicks open.

“Hey, thanks, hyung. I’ll have that now.”

It crosses his mind that the very reason he’s started playing in the first place was because Hyuck asked him to look out for it, but now that he’s back with a bowlful of ramen and a can of milk soda in one hand, it sets him back to reality.

Doyoung stands up from the mattress, and if he had shown any ounce of hesitation, Hyuck doesn’t notice it. He sets his food down the bed carefully before taking the controller back in his hand, and Doyoung shuffles back to where he was.

“Nice playing with you,” he hears Taeyong say. Maybe he thinks the same.

He mumbles out a quiet “Yeah,” and Hyuck doesn’t stop to think that maybe a new friendship was built upon his bladder and love for midnight snacks.

-

From the last few weeks Doyoung has been coming over, Bean's been looking fuller and fuller– both in his fur and his stomach. He's been sticking around Hyuck more too, like being bonded with his master. Taeil would scold him for overfeeding Bean and letting him gobble anything his puppy-dog eyes would ask for, but Hyuck is just so quick to give in to his pleading eyes.

“I just can’t resist you, can I?” he asks Bean in a high-pitched voice, falling to the ground to squeeze his jowls until his face is licked wet.

“Johnny, tell him he shouldn’t overfeed Bean,” Taeil says, glancing over at Johnny who’s too busy having heart eyes watching his two boys wrestle each other on the ground. “Johnny.”

“Oh. Right. Listen to your dad.” But neither his voice nor his face are convincing.

Taeil frowns, turning to Doyoung instead. “You see what I have to deal with?” and Doyoung only laughs.

At night when they're back in their shared room, he’d crawl on the bed, watch Hyuck play his game and feign disinterest as he waits for Taeyong’s voice to look for him. Hyuck doesn’t seem to find it odd, probably thinking it’s because Doyoung has been a surprisingly impressive substitute for him whenever he fetches something to eat.

Doyoung doesn’t deny that a part of him silently hopes for Hyuck to hand the controller over to him every night too, and more often than not, Hyuck does.

“You’re getting good at this.”

“Told you,” Doyoung grins, for some reason finding comfort in this odd relationship he’s built with Taeyong. That or maybe it's just satisfying to aim a grenade launcher and watch him blow up to pieces.

In the middle of a match, his phone keeps buzzing on the bed he’s leaning on. Had it been once, he would’ve saved it after kicking Taeyong’s ass, but as it kept ringing, he finally spares his phone a glance. Taeyong, of course, uses this as the perfect opportunity to seal a win for himself, and while he basks in his glory, Doyoung finally unlocks his phone to read.

“2:2. Now we’re even!” Taeyong singsongs.

Doyoung almost drops his phone. “Shit.”

“Huh?”

He scrambles up on his feet, heart thumping loudly out his chest that Taeyong might’ve just heard. “I have to go.”

“What’s wrong?”

But Doyoung doesn’t have time to answer him. He dashes out of the room, swinging the door open that it almost bumps into Hyuck and his steaming bowl of ramen had he not swerved at the right time. 

“Whoa there,” Hyuck’s eyes widen at the almost-collision. “That would’ve been ugly.”

“I won’t be staying over,” he blurts out.

“What?”

“It’s an emergency, but don’t wake your dads up. I got this.”

“Hyung, wait–”

Before he could hear the rest of it, Doyoung is already putting his shoes on. His shoelaces are barely tied as he dashes out of the house, running towards the shed that waits for the midnight bus. He’s catching his breath, and he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten his wallet back at the house, but there’s no time for him to waste.

When he looks across the dimly lit streets, the lights from the city buildings still glow, and from the distance, he sees the hospital sign illuminate. So he runs.

-

He’s drenched with sweat at two in the morning, but that’s the least of his worries right now. He walks up to the receptionist, frantically asking for Yuta’s room but no one seems to have the same sense of urgency as his.

“Doyoung!” he hears Jaehyun call behind him, and he whips his head back to his voice.

Doyoung runs up to him, Jaehyun’s always perfectly styled hair now disheveled and damp with sweat. The bags under his eyes are dark and heavy and it looks like he’s had a totally unplanned stressful evening for himself.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s in the ER. He’s fine. Mild concussion after he bumped his head in the sink, but other than a few stitches, he’ll live.”

He lets out a huff of relief, squinting hard as he rubs at a sore spot in his chest. “God, you scared me.”

“Sorry I freaked you out. I didn't want to worry you but I thought you should know why there's a bald spot on his head the next time you see him,” Jaehyun apologizes, and it seems genuine enough for Doyoung to forgive him.

“What happened?”

“I think he downed 15 shots of vodka in under a minute. Collapsed before he could even throw it all up.”

“Jesus.”

Jaehyun sighs, and a part of Doyoung is convinced he had something to do with it in the first place. "Come on, let's take you to him."

He fills him Doyoung in on the turn of events as they walk down the halls of the ER, and by events, Jaehyun means literally every event. Doyoung tries his best to pay attention no matter how uninterested he is to hear about Jaehyun picking between a denim or a suede jacket a few hours before they even began drinking, but since he easily gets queasy inside a hospital, he listens as a distraction.

He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job with it too, because by the time they get to Yuta’s corner, he doesn’t realize there’s someone occupying the seat beside the bed until Jaehyun introduces him.

“Oh, by the way, this is Jinyoung. We met at the bar, he was the one who offered to drive us here.”

Doyoung gapes, surprised to find company. "Oh." Normally, he wouldn't have allowed himself to look this unpresentable– hair sticking all over his forehead, shirt smelly with sweat, and shoelaces loosely tied. But Jinyoung doesn't seem to mind. "Thank you.”

“It’s no problem," he smiles back, reaching out a hand to him. "Doyoung, right?"

"Yes. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but we met under rather unfortunate circumstances."

Jinyoung's eyes crinkle at his remark, but before he could say something back, Jaehyun speaks up. "I couldn't drag Yuta out of the restroom myself, and he came and offered to take him here."

"That's thoughtful of you." Doyoung looks back at him, and if his eyes aren't deceiving him, he'd say Jinyoung's ears start flushing pink.

He turns his attention to Yuta, who’s lying asleep on the hospital bed. He's hooked to an IV drip and a part of his head is now bandaged from the stitches done to him. Thankfully, it isn’t as bad as what he was picturing, but who the hell drinks 15 shots of vodka in one go?

"It's getting late, hyung. Are you sure you don't need to get home yet?" he hears Jaehyun ask Jinyoung.

Jinyoung doesn't spare the courtesy of lying, standing up in his seat. "Do any of you need a ride home?"

"I think I'm partly responsible for staying with him 'til he finishes his drip,” Jaehyun mumbles, scratching the back of his head. He turns to Doyoung. "What about you?"

"No, it's okay, I can take the–" Doyoung pats down on his jeans, then his back pockets, until he remembers that he left his wallet when he dashed out of Johnny's house in an instant. "Shit."

"Did it get stolen?"

"No, I just left it in Hyuck's room."

"Oh, shoot. Do you have anywhere to crash?"

"I can walk back, don't worry."

"Let me drive you there," Jinyoung offers, detaching the car keys hooked on his belt loop.

Doyoung steals a quick glance to see the logo and Lord– it's an Audi. He looks back at Jaehyun hesitantly but his friend only nods at him to go on.

"Go," Jaehyun says. "I'll text you as soon as we get out."

He would've been adamant about declining the offer, but it's particularly hard when Jaehyun is quite literally shoving him away. So he lets him, and Jinyoung leads him out towards the parking lot.

Doyoung hates anything that has to do with excessive luxury, which inherently means he hates sports cars.

He doesn't particularly enjoy stooping down to almost floor level just to sit shotgun, he doesn't appreciate how you have to adjust the passenger seat just to get in the cramped confines of the backseat, and if Doyoung didn't care for driving safety that much, then he wouldn't have strapped himself on the jammed seatbelt.

He despises sports cars.

But he doesn't despise Jinyoung. No, Jinyoung helped his friends, and that was kind of him, really. But what rich guy would offer to help two ragtag strangers– one fainted on the bathroom floor and one possibly dragging him out of it with barely enough money on him to pay for a cab.

A red flag.

Doyoung shakes his head. He shouldn't be assessing Jinyoung like this. Not when he's driving him home. Oh, god, it's almost 3AM. What if he forces him to a ditch and sells him for parts? He'd be on the news and Hyuck would–

"You okay?"

Doyoung snaps back to reality. "Mhm," he forces the words out his mouth. 

His foot taps impatiently against the rug, anything to drown out the uncomfortable silence between them. Doyoung's apartment is out of Jinyoung's way, but that doesn't stop him from driving him all the way outside of town.

Maybe he really is about to be driven off a ditch.

They don't speak for the rest of the ride, only when he asks Jinyoung to stop a few blocks away from where he lives. Despite not ending up chopped into bite-sized pieces, he’s still wary of giving out his exact location, so he walks the remaining blocks instead. 

He checks his phone to find a few missed calls from Hyuck, and just as he’s about to finally dial his number and explain what the hell just happened, his phone blacks out.

Great, now Hyuck’s going to think he really is dead.

Then there's a long frustrated sigh. As much as Doyoung wants to let him know he’s well alive, he's just as drained as his phone battery to solve any more problems for the night. 

Next week, he promises himself. Next week doesn’t have to be like this anymore.

-

Did he jinx it?

It’s too early to tell, but by the following Friday night, Taeyong doesn't log in. Which isn't a big deal because Hyuck still has his same-aged friends like Jeno or Renjun to accompany him in a game. But when the next weekend comes and Taeyong still isn't there, Doyoung doesn't know why a part of it upsets him. He shrugs it aside and thinks maybe he's busy, so he sleeps as early as 10.

Two weeks turn into a month, and Yuta's hair has finally grown back and yet there's still no sign of Taeyong.

Not even a goodbye, Doyoung thinks to himself, but he buries it deep in his mind as quickly as it appears. Taeyong doesn't owe him an explanation, much as how he never got one for Doyoung cutting their last game short.

They were never anything more than two guys one-upping each other for fun. Hell, Doyoung doesn't even know his last name.

By the fourth week, he has a good feeling that maybe Taeyong would be back. Doyoung could finally ask him what he's been up to, perhaps even hear about his life outside their little bubble. It's killing him, how eager he wants to just plug in the game himself instead of waiting for Hyuck as soon as he gets there.

But that doesn't happen at all.

While they sit in the living room waiting for dinner, Johnny flicks through the channels until he lands on the news, and there it is: Diogenesis Inc. The company that created Guerilla Warzone has its employees staging a nationwide walkout.

It catches everyone’s attention too, including Hyuck, as he passes by the living room and does a double-take on the screen. The clip shows a massive group of people, most likely game developers, carrying signs that demand better working conditions and asking them to be the company that they say they are.

Beside him, Johnny lets out a long sigh. “Aw, jeez. I’m sorry, buddy,” he says, genuine sincerity in his voice as he places a hand on Hyuck's shoulder.

Doyoung knows Johnny couldn’t find anything to do but apologize when the disappointment unmistakably paints Hyuck’s face like a betrayed puppy. 

“Nah, it’s okay,” Hyuck shrugs. “It was getting boring anyway.”

He turns to find Bean wagging his tail at him from the couch. If he only knew how to speak, then maybe he's cheering him up. But watching him come up to Hyuck, sniffing his hand and placing his head on his lap is enough to say that he is.

Hyuck stands up, heading towards his room as Bean follows along without question.

“Hey, where are you going?” Taeil asks. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“I’m going to sleep early,” he answers back under his breath.

If Doyoung has ever been more proud of having taught Hyuck anything, it’s being absolutely proactive. For a kid his age, Hyuck has been openly criticizing the government and boycotting agencies that pay below the minimum wage– most of these influenced by Doyoung.

In this case, he knows that's the first thing Hyuck would do.

Doyoung would’ve done the same, no questions asked. He would’ve been at that walkout, supporting the game developers for fighting back for their rights and exposing the false promises they’ve been given.

“Man, what a shit company,” Johnny clicks his tongue, not particularly addressing anyone, and unknowingly breaking the no-swear rule in their household. 

Doyoung nods along, and it’s true– Diogenesis is a shit company, and now they’ll have to pay. They have to suffer through the significant drop in their stocks and constant online torment, and none of that will ever surmount the mistreatment they’ve shamelessly done to their employees.

Doyoung wouldn’t have traded that chance for anything, and if it meant never getting to hear the stupid voice he’s been crushing on, then so be it.

-

It’s Hyuck’s birthday in three days.

Since the beginning of the year, Doyoung has been keeping a close eye– silently observing his current interests and discreetly taking mental notes of things he says in passing. The top contender would’ve been this LP record Hyuck couldn’t stop talking about, but Doyoung should’ve bought it three months ago after finding out it had to be pre-ordered from overseas, so he ticks it off his list of potential gifts. 

He then goes to a Nike store. It's the second on his list after Hyuck has been gushing about these Air Maxes for weeks. When he sees the model displayed in front of the store, he thinks this is it then. But then he asks for the right size, only to realize it’s sold out. So he ticks it off again.

He’s running out of options fast, and it’s not the most productive day off he’s been having when he’s failed to buy two gifts by now. Buying food disguised as a present isn't an option either because knowing Hyuck, he would easily feed Bean anything his puppy-dog eyes would ask for.

He wants it to be special– something Hyuck would look back on and remember him. So maybe stopping right in front of a game shop is the world telling him something.

Doyoung walks in hesitantly, not entirely sure how game shop etiquette works, but when he sees how none of the customers seem to show any sign of interest in him, he figures he’s good.

In the wide ranges of shelves filled with CDs, Doyoung catches sight of the game Hyuck used to play, which has now been left in the bottom of his shelf to dust. Despite no longer playing the game, Hyuck still stays up late, except this time he spends most of his nights on his phone. It troubles Doyoung how he couldn’t keep a watchful eye on him from there, so maybe buying him a video game (well, a tactical video game) isn’t such a bad idea.

While he’s not entirely sure of what he’s looking for in particular, he skims through the selection, trying to find anything Hyuck might enjoy.

Then he sees another shooting game, looking alike but not quite his old one. This is as tactical as it could get, he thinks to himself, and just as he grabs the promising video game in hand, a voice registers in his ear, somewhere down the other aisle of the store. He stops in his tracks and tilts his head up to listen, trying to recall where he’s heard it from.

“–I’ll let you know when the next one is rolling out.”

Then it hits him, eyes widening as he feels his stomach turn.

It’s Taeyong.

Taeyong?

He pays attention harder, and the longer he listens, the more sure he is. He’s heard him long enough through Hyuck’s home speakers to convince himself that it is. 

Before he knows it, his feet start leading him towards the voice. It's ridiculous. Whenever he stumbles across an acquaintance anywhere else outside of grad school, the first instinct is to hide and pretend he never saw anything. But now, now it's him who's trying to find it, like a sailor lured by a siren. And when he finally turns the corner of the opposite aisle, there he is– back turned on him as he strikes a conversation with an employee.

Of course, he’d be a regular.

Doyoung waits, pretending to skim through the selection not too far away from them, but maintains a safe distance near enough for Taeyong to walk right into him. As soon as the staff leaves Taeyong to himself, Doyoung watches him walk nearer. He’s scanning through the rows of new arrivals as Doyoung stares at him in awe, and before he could stop himself, Doyoung goes for it.

“Excuse me,” he suddenly blurts out.

He’s standing a few feet beside him, and if there’s anything that registers to him that instant, it’s that he never really knew what to expect Taeyong to look like.

But there's Taeyong, barely less than two meters away from him, in a simple white printed t-shirt and patchy dyed hair that has been muted down to ash.

“You’re Taeyong,” he says, allowing the words out of mouth in a split second before the courage wears off.

Taeyong blinks back at him by surprise, but he nods anyway. “Wait… I know you,” he says hesitantly, not a question, but he squints as if he’s getting it out of his tongue, so Doyoung saves him the hassle.

“Doyoung. From the… from the game.” It made much more sense in his head, and saying it out loud is slowly sobering him up, and suddenly there’s a growing pit in his stomach as he lives to regret striking a conversation with him without a backup plan. Maybe there really is a reason why he avoids acquaintances in out-of-school settings.

But then he watches Taeyong’s eyes light up by surprise, and somehow it reassures him that he knows exactly what Doyoung’s talking about.

“Oh!” he exclaims, a grin spreading on his face. Then he lets out a laugh– the laugh Doyoung never knew he’s been oddly missing to this day. “Hyuck’s bro– I mean, uncle! Wow, sorry, it’s just that… This is the last place I thought I’d bump into you.”

Doyoung lets out a laugh because (1) He’s mistaken as Hyuck’s brother again– something he takes pride in; and (2) Did Taeyong just say it crossed his mind they’d bump into each other one day? Maybe that laugh is more of a distraction to stop himself from the nausea he's suddenly feeling.

To cover it up even more, he turns to divert the conversation. “It’s Hyuck’s birthday on Friday, so…” he says, waving the video game in his hand.

Taeyong nods, looking up as a small smile spreads on his face. “So June 6.”

Doyoung blinks back at him for a few seconds before slapping a palm on his forehead. “Shit,” he winces, realizing he just outed more personal information yet again. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

Taeyong doesn’t say anything, only keeps a tight-lipped smile. When his eyes flicker down to observe the CD on Doyoung’s hands, it slowly fades, and as he looks back up at him, he hesitantly says, “I… wouldn’t recommend that.”

Doyoung frowns, confused. He looks back down on it. “Why not?”

“I take it you’re here to replace his old game. Well, fun fact: that thing’s owned by the same company. They used a different name after most of their stocks plummeted. Here, come on.”

He tilts his head for Doyoung to follow him, leading them down to the next aisle where he scans through the displays and reaches out a CD to give him.

“This one's okay,” he says, handing it over.

Doyoung takes it in his hand and studies it: Shadowrun– not a game of war, nor does it look like it features any heavy-armed militia weapons. Sci-fi. Does Hyuck even like sci-fi?

“A bit underrated since it’s new and an indie game, but they’re a small team. Self-sustaining. I have a feeling he’ll like it.”

“Oh.” Made by a self-sustaining group of independent developers. That’s enough to sell him. “He’d like this then, thank you,” Doyoung says, nodding at him. “So you heard about the walkout.”

“I was there,” Taeyong says it so casually that it makes Doyoung look up at him by surprise.

“You work for them?”

“Worked,” he corrected. “It was just a quick sideline, no big deal. I was a home-based beta-tester. We planned the walkout three weeks before it happened, but I resigned before they could suspend me.” There’s a prideful smile spread across his face as he says it, and to be honest, Doyoung is in awe too. So that’s why he hasn’t been back in nearly a month– he was too busy planning on revolting against his jackass company. Doyoung would’ve swooned then and there.

Taeyong must've mistaken the stunned look on his face for something else, because after a few wordless seconds, he looks back at Doyoung and says, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I'm sorry I never told you. About quitting." He scratches his head, wincing. "I would’ve said something the last night we spoke, but you seem rattled as it is, and I never got the chance.”

“Oh. God, no. My friend was–” Doyoung shakes his head, words stumbling out of his mouth. “It’s a long story. Listen, you don’t– you don’t have to apologize, Taeyong."

He's apologizing. He's apologizing. Oh god, has he been thinking about Doyoung too?

"It’s fine." Doyoung has to sweep these thoughts away before he could combust. "If anything, I hope quitting your job hasn’t been burdensome.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Taeyong whistles, lax. “I’m working on something for myself now, but thank you.”

It takes him a while to realize, but this is the most Doyoung has ever heard about him, and he would’ve loved to know more of him if he hadn’t realized that they’ve walked right towards the counter, and there’s Taeyong reaching for his CD in one hand, wallet in the other.

“Let me.”

“What? No,” Doyoung shakes his head, quickly snatching the disc back just before the cashier could take it. He notices her glance back and forth between them, but waits for them to settle an agreement.

Unlike the person behind the counter, Taeyong doesn’t flinch– most likely anticipating how Doyoung wouldn’t allow him to buy it for him, so he pulls the CD back to him carefully, making this harder than it is. “Consider it my gift to him.”

“You’re not even supposed to know it was his birthday.”

“Yeah, but you told me. So let me buy it for him.”

“No.”

“...Everything alright?”

The cashier’s voice is sweet but hesitant, unsure whether stepping in between Taeyong and Doyoung would wreak more havoc or actually stop it. Then again, this argument shouldn’t even have happened in the first place if either of them would just stop being so stubborn. 

They turn their heads at her in unison, and Taeyong is the first to speak. “Ma’am–”

Doyoung might not know him that well yet, but he knows for a fact he would’ve easily wooed her with his charms, so he cuts him off. “Please don’t take his card,” he blurts out. “He has a history of credit card debt.”

“Hey! No, I don’t!” Taeyong almost chokes on his words. He looks back at her behind the counter, apologetic. “Ma’am, he’s joking. No, I don’t.”

Just as Taeyong is busy saving his reputation, Doyoung uses this as the opportunity to pat himself down for his wallet, snatching his card and handing it over to her as quickly as he could. “Here,” he says, almost shoving it that it slightly makes her flinch.

She grabs it hesitantly, but Doyoung nods– pleading at this point. The only time he relaxes is when she finally swipes the card for a transaction, and when the receipt successfully prints, he lets out a sigh.

“You two have a good day,” she says, handing the plastic over to him as she holds back a smile. She glances at the two of them adoringly, and Doyoung isn't an idiot not to see how she’s misreading the entire thing. Then again, he also doesn’t want to make it more embarrassing than it is by addressing it, so he nods at her instead, heading straight towards the exit with Taeyong tailing behind him.

There’s no reason for him to step foot inside this store again, so there's that, at least.

“Credit card debt. Really?” Taeyong chuckles, chasing behind him as they walk down the street.

“Yeah, well, I said I didn’t want your money.”

“Okay, to be fair, I wasn’t paying for you. It was for Hyuck.”

“Listen,” Doyoung brings a finger up, hovering it just above Taeyong's face as a warning that it sends him to a screeching halt. "I’ve been to two different stores today, both of which have turned me down in buying my one and only nephew a birthday gift. Just one. And none of them would let me. So please, please just allow me to have achieved something today. I'd really appreciate it.”

Taeyong's eyes draw down to the finger right in front of him, and slowly, he grabs hold of Doyoung's wrist. His touch is gentle and innocent, but Doyoung still tenses, and he only hopes Taeyong doesn't notice it as he sets his hand down. “You already did, though.”

Doyoung furrows his brows in question.

“Stumbling into me.”

When the grin spreads on Taeyong's face playfully, Doyoung could tell he's doing it to mess with him on purpose, possibly to keep up with the foundation of bickering that they started on.

But his stomach still dips.

Would he have considered it a friendship to begin with? Outside of his limited gaming knowledge and accidental slips about his personal life, they barely know each other. 

So why exactly does he want to know more?

It was ridiculous– somehow Taeyong creeps into his life and suddenly Doyoung has been letting his walls down, more than he’s ever done to a stranger. All his life he’s been guarded, barely trusting someone so quick because he sees the red flags before they could even disappoint him.

But how come he’s not seeing anything in Taeyong?

“What are you doing here?” he asks. “You’re not gonna follow me back to my apartment, are you?” He means it with no ill intent, although a part of him just hopes Taeyong would give him something– anything , to run away from.

But instead, Taeyong lets out a scoff. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who called after me.”

“I was just amused to see you in the flesh,” he answers back almost defensively, but Taeyong has never been one to take him so seriously. If he weren’t so patient with Doyoung, then he never would have entertained him this long.

Taeyong cocks a brow at Doyoung, sly. “Are you sure you’re not stalking me?”

Oh, okay. So Doyoung is the one with the red flags. Amazing how he turned this on him.

"Very funny," he grumbles, trying to hit him with the weighted plastic entangled on his wrist, but Taeyong dodges, laughing. Doyoung tries his hardest to keep a straight face, but something about Taeyong's laugh makes him crack a fond smile, and soon enough, he's chuckling along with him. “No, really, I have to go now,” he says quietly as soon as their giggles die down.

Taeyong shakes his head. “I’m not stopping you, though.”

He waits for him to go, but Doyoung doesn’t move, only looks back in his eyes as if he’s searching for something. Taeyong tilts his head, a strand of ashy hair falling in front of his face that Doyoung urges himself not to lean in and fix it.

How come there are no red flags in Taeyong?

“What’s wrong?” Taeyong asks quietly, a worried look on his face.

Doyoung quickly shakes his head, brushing his thoughts away. “Nothing, it’s–” His mind has never moved so fast in coming up with an excuse, maybe up to par during his debate team years in high school. “You’re gonna find out which direction I’m taking.”

It's a petty excuse that makes Taeyong snort, and Doyoung thinks he's done for, but thankfully Taeyong isn't reading in too deep as him.

“Do you want me to turn against the wall or something? Count to ten until you’re gone?”

“Actually, I would appreciate that, yes.”

Maybe it wasn’t the answer Taeyong was expecting, because it leaves him speechless for a good second just before he shrugs.

“Alright,” he smiles, facing the graffitied wall beside him, and Doyoung watches him shut his eyes lightly. "I'm gonna count to ten now, and if you're not gone yet, then that's on you… One–"

Doyoung could stay. He's finished all the paperwork that's due in two weeks and he has the entire day to spare. He could ask him out for lunch or even just take a stroll down the river, admiring the cityview and maybe learn a thing or two about each other.

He could stay and not coop himself in his apartment, avoiding any of his friends' calls as he comes up with some lousy excuse on why he can't hangout. He'd have a viable excuse if he stays.

But Doyoung doesn't.

Instead, he turns back on him, and when he sees the stoplight turn red, he walks down the street along with the small crowd, letting them carry him away with his cowardice.

He counts down to ten along with Taeyong, and if he isn't gone by then, then that's on him. And frankly, he's not quite sure what it means to be crushing this hard on a stranger.

-

He dropped by late, witnessing nothing but the remains of the food and a cake which looks like it met its demise before its candles could be blown. Taeil offers to heat him something up but Doyoung politely declines, and knowing how he’s probably tired from taming maybe a dozen teenagers just a few hours ago, Taeil doesn’t argue.

“Just grab anything you like, okay?” Taeil says just before he waves a goodnight at them, shutting the door to their room while he stifles a yawn.

Hyuck is in the kitchen, washing the last of the dishes for the night and leaving them to dry. Just as he shuts the faucet off and turns around, Doyoung surprises him with a grin and the giftwrapped video game in his hands. 

“I’m not sure if you’d like this,” he says, handing it over. Hyuck tackles him with a hug before he could even take it, feeling like a punch to his gut that makes him go 'oof.'

Hyuck lets go to marvel at it for a good while, and then proceeds to rip it to shreds. Doyoung would’ve told him off not to waste paper like that but he keeps his mouth shut, after all, it is the last few hours of his special day.

Truthfully, he loves having people open gifts in front of him. He’s always been sure of what would make them happy, and there was no reason for him to think that they’d ever fake enthusiasm for him. But for this, the nerves have been crawling on his stomach for days, not entirely sure if Hyuck would even like it in the first place. Would he even trust Taeyong’s word for it? 

He’s only finally managed to let out a sigh of relief when Hyuck finally tears off a piece that reveals its neatly written logo, far less daunting than his old game, and his eyes widen in delight.

“Hey, I’ve heard of this!” he gasps, flipping it over to read the back of the packaging. “From Taeyong hyung.”

Doyoung furrows his brows. “You did?”

Hyuck nods, letting out a satisfied “Ah!” when he finds what he’s looking for. He points at a small section of the packaging, tapping on the tiny words for Doyoung to see which spell out ‘Lee Taeyong.’ “He made it.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen in surprise. It shouldn’t have come off as something he’d be deeply invested in, but somehow he couldn’t help himself. “He made it?”

“Well, one of them, at least. A few months ago, he told me he’s close to finishing a game he and his friends have been working on. It was launched earlier this week but I completely forgot about it until today. Isn’t that funny? It’s like I was fated to have this.”

Doyoung has never told Hyuck about meeting Taeyong before. Hell, he’s never even told any of his friends about an unlikely friend he’s made in an unlikely place. They already think finding him friends in a bar is hard enough. But are Doyoung and Taeyong even friends? He certainly left out that fact about him being a game developer, so what makes him think Taeyong wants to be himself around Doyoung as much as he does?

“Yeah,” he manages a response, a distraction from the fact that he had just admitted he wants nothing more than to be himself around Taeyong.

“Alright… let’s see…” Hyuck mumbles as he sets the game up. Doyoung is in bed, lying down on his stomach while Hyuck fiddles with the controller and messes with it until he gets a good feel. “You know, they said Shadowrun’s predicted to be the biggest hit for the entire year.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I hope it is, then I get to brag about being friends with Taeyong. How cool is that? Renjun’s gonna hate my ass about it, for sure.”

Doyoung chuckles. “Stop teasing your friends.”

Hyuck, of course, does not. He calls Renjun and Jeno in to play, and they spend the night exploring maps, testing weapons, and ranking up until one of them gets called in to sleep. At around midnight, when Hyuck is finally left alone with himself again, he decides to start a match on his own, but just before he could, a notification bell sounds.

“Hm?” he hums.

Doyoung, who’s a few winks away from sleeping, looks up to the sound of his voice. Hyuck is squinting his eyes at the screen to read what it says, and Doyoung’s eyes follow.

‘CC_Debt has added you as a friend.’

“Who the hell...” Hyuck mutters, turning to delete the friend request just before it hits Doyoung, jogging his memory back to their friendly incident from a few days ago.

“That’s Taeyong!” he blurts out.

Hyuck whips his head behind him, a startled look on his face at Doyoung’s sudden response. “How’d you know that?”

“I just do,” he says, voice calmer this time when he sobers up at the fact that he just desperately tried to stop Hyuck from deleting a peculiar friend request. Surely, the Doyoung he was a few months ago would not be proud of the Doyoung he has become.

Hyuck shrugs but proceeds to accept the invite, and when a voice suddenly sounds the speakers and says–

“Hey, Hyuck.”

–Doyoung feels something warm on his chest, like the sound of Taeyong’s voice is enough to satisfy his long day. He knows it shouldn’t, so he stays quiet, silently anticipating the chance he gets acknowledged.

Except Taeyong doesn’t.

He doesn’t even bring up the fact that he knows Hyuck’s birthday, or that he chose the game for him. Instead, Taeyong tells him how they matched up previously, and since Hyuck uses the same username he does in the other games they've played, it wasn't very hard to find him.

Hyuck doesn't even seem to bother listening because he proceeds to ramble on about its features– the gameplay, the graphics, the quests; fanboying over being in the same server as its maker.

Although they can't see each other, Doyoung starts picturing an image of Taeyong leaned against a gaming chair, with nothing but the light from the screen looming over his face. Maybe he’s smiling, too, because that’s how he sounds– when Doyoung catches the small chuckles he makes over Hyuck’s unfiltered praises, maybe he goes red, too. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s smiling himself until Hyuck turns to look at him and says, “Hyung, isn’t this awesome? I’m getting the honor of playing with the freakin’ master!”

Doyoung only snorts.

“Is that Doyoung?”

Suddenly his slumped shoulders go upright at Taeyong’s voice. “So I heard I’m speaking to the founder,” he says. Although he doesn’t intend it, his voice comes out more spiteful than it should, and he wishes he could take it back as soon as he does but Taeyong is quick to take his blame.

“Ah, well…” he says, apologetic– probably unsure if he should be speaking so freely about having met when neither of them are opening it up, and Doyoung doesn’t blame him. What happened at their chance encounter was never meant to be a big deal, and Hyuck doesn’t need to find out. Not that it was important, anyway.

“Okay, quit with the modesty and let’s play,” Hyuck cuts them off, unintentionally saving them from what was borderlining awkward tension.

So play they did.

After hours of watching Hyuck have a go, it isn’t that Doyoung suddenly became an expert in video games, but Hyuck was constantly losing. He’s been ranking up all night and he’s finally lost his momentum, spiraling down to a few constant ranks down. Even Taeyong was wondering if he had programmed the game too hard.

Doyoung doesn’t even realize it, but he mindlessly starts to mutter, “Maybe you should reposition…”

“Hm?” Hyuck hums, the exhaustion in his voice evident. Ah, there it is– he’s just tired.

“You keep spawning at a bad place. Don’t just go shooting as soon as you land, try and look for cover first.”

An amused smile grows out of Hyuck's weary face. “The student has become the master.” He turns to Doyoung, handing the controller over. “Wanna give it a go?”

Doyoung, admittedly, is only ever good with words, and frankly, he's not up to embarrassing himself if his suggestions ever end up wrong. But just as he opens his mouth to turn him down, he hears Taeyong say:

“You should.”

Then he starts considering it. It's Taeyong's game, he developed this world. It wouldn't be polite to turn down the person who built it, right? The person who his innocent nephew and his friends has been gushing over. The very same one whose world Doyoung wants to get to know… Right?

"Let me try."

Then Hyuck scoots aside to make space for him. Doyoung hoists himself up from the bed to sit beside him on the floor, adjusting the headset to fit him then taking the controller in his hands.

If he's being honest, then he'd say he's unreasonably anxious over proving himself right, but when he starts winning once, then twice, then three times in a row, then Doyoung starts thinking that maybe his tactical skills are pretty impressive.

“You’re quite good at this, hyung,” Hyuck yawns, and Doyoung starts feeling something heavy on his shoulder. Hyuck leans his head against him, blinking slowly as he watches Doyoung play, then he lets out another drawn-out yawn.

"I'd say the same," says Taeyong.

And weirdly, that's enough validation for him. So he smiles, then he proceeds to win again.

A satisfied chuckle escapes his mouth when the game ends and he sees himself ranked the highest. Then suddenly, it's quickly followed by a snore. He glances over to his shoulder and he doesn't even notice that Hyuck has been sleeping soundly with his head pressed against him. 

"Is he asleep?"

"Yeah,” Doyoung says, almost a whisper. “Give me a second."

He shifts his arm, careful not to wake him as he slowly moves him down the mattress to lay.

Hyuck grunts, but allows himself to be bundled up with the sheets that Doyoung tucks up to his shoulders. He mumbles something that Doyoung doesn’t quite catch, but it doesn’t matter because it looks like he’s sleeptalking. Doyoung chuckles under his breath.

"Should I go?" Taeyong asks quietly. 

"Wait, stay," he says rather too quickly. He holds onto the headset he forgot he’s been wearing, then he backpedals. "I mean, not if you don't want to."

It takes a while for Taeyong to respond, and Doyoung uses this time to hoist himself up to the empty bed, toying with the ends of the bedsheets, and a few quiet seconds after, Taeyong asks, almost unsure. "Do you want to stay?"

Objectively speaking, Doyoung is exhausted. His eyes are strained from looking at the screen for so long and his body badly needs to save up on rest if he wants to survive working on a lengthy paper that's due tomorrow. Yet somehow, he wants to stay. Wants to keep Taeyong a little longer because he’s not sure when he’s ever going to experience something as fleeting as this– even if it means just talking.

"Kinda, yeah," he mumbles, honest.

"Okay, good," Taeyong responds. Almost like a relief. "Me too.” 

They don't play. Instead, they end up talking.

Doyoung unplugged the audio out of the home speakers so the sounds go directly to the headset, careful not to wake Hyuck up from their thoughtless conversations.

He lays down in bed where his legs dangle off and he kicks them lightly while he listens to Taeyong tell him all about the mumbo jumbo of game programming. Not that any of his jargons make any sense to Doyoung, but for some reason he urges him to keep talking, latching onto the hint of excitement in Taeyong’s voice when he gets too carried away telling Doyoung all about the world he’s helped create.

A few seconds of silence pass and all that remains are the sounds of their steady breathing, and honestly, Doyoung doesn’t mind. Somehow it’s comfortable.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks quietly, something he’s been meaning to after he’s ticked off every question.

"I don't know,” Taeyong admits. “Didn't seem important."

This makes Doyoung snort, too tired to even furrow his brows. "Didn't seem important?"

"Would you have cared?"

"Yeah, of course," he says matter-of-factly. Genuinely. Hurt, even, that Taeyong would even consider that. And maybe that’s how Taeyong is reading into it too, because he suddenly says:

“Let me make it up to you, then.”

"Huh?”

“Let me take you out for a meal.”

A surge of energy hits him that he props himself up on his elbows, lifting his head to see that the TV has shut itself down from being idle for too long. How long have they been talking?

It takes him a while to answer a yes-or-no question and Taeyong proceeds to go on:

"I mean, it's my mistake, so let me buy you a meal. Consider it my peace offering. Also, you can call it as yours for the grave accusation you gave me the first time.”

Doyoung’s winces at the first memory of him acting out on Taeyong.

“Fuck. Fuck, Taeyong. I’m so sorry,” he whines, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying so hard to squint the picture away, but Taeyong only chuckles. "I’m–"

“Just say yes, Doyoung.”

Of course, Taeyong would never hold a grudge, he knows that, and it isn’t like Doyoung doesn’t want to either. After all, he’s the one who’s been excited to hear about him tonight. And truthfully, a date with Taeyong doesn't sound too bad. 

Yes, there's a giant mental note blaring out the words 'PAPER DUE TOMORROW' in front of his face, but at the same time… there's Taeyong. Asking him out on a date.

Would it be so wrong to be irrational for once in his life?

“Okay,” he finally says.

-

They say first dates are one of the most uncomfortable experiences a person has to get through for the consecutive ones to become more bearable. Although Doyoung would agree on this for the most part, he has finally proven that that’s not always the case.

No, this one with Taeyong is anything but that.

Although they’ve known each other for a few months now, this is the first time they’ve met up intentionally. They dine at a fairly small restaurant that Doyoung has never heard of, surprisingly finding it to be nothing short of a hidden gem. He learns that Taeyong’s co-collaborator for the game, Baekhyun, sidelines as a food vlogger who's quite famous for travel insight– offering tips and tricks and life hacks to get around the city, and this was one of the places he had shared.

"He saved this restaurant's business," Taeyong says, and Doyoung nods, impressed. He and his friends must love doing acts of service. It makes a part of Doyoung's heart swell.

Taeyong, of course, insisted on paying. That goes for the iced coffee he buys them both while strolling the river, too. Doyoung would've told him he’s not a fan of caffeine, but he didn't want to turn him down. Better yet, he remembers he still has a paper to finish in time for midnight, and it's not like he wants to go home anytime soon either, so maybe coffee really is the best solution. 

They ended up exchanging numbers too. Doyoung wills his heart to calm itself down as Taeyong dials on his phone, saving his own contact while Doyoung does the same.

"We should do this again some other time," Taeyong says, handing his phone back. Their fingers slightly graze but Doyoung disguises the electric jolt with a nod and a smile.

"I'd love that."

He doesn't want to go. Even when it's getting late and with a paper due in a few hours, he doesn't want to part. So if it meant spending a little bit more time together, this time he allows Taeyong to accompany him to the bus stop, their shoulders lightly pressed against each other while they wait in the shed.

"So you take the 511 bus home," Taeyong notes, and Doyoung rolls his eyes, earning a nudge in return. "I'm messing with you."

The gesture makes him hyper-aware just how closely seated they are, and it isn't like the shed is crowded. There's barely anyone waiting but them.

Then he proceeds to wonder: how is it that someone as good as a stranger, someone who stepped on the wrong foot in his life just a few months ago, could make him feel so… familiar?

How is it that Taeyong makes Doyoung feel so comfortable?

“Text me when you get back safely,” Taeyong says when Doyoung's bus finally arrives, waving as he waits for him to get in.

Doyoung nods, waving back.

‘Okay,’ he thinks to himself, taking a seat as the doors begin to close. ‘ We’re finally moving past conversations through video games.’

Doyoung doesn't sleep that night, and no, not for reasons related to Taeyong. Well, partly.

He stays up because it's the price he has to pay for choosing a date over a deadline. And that's something he's never done before. Ever. Hell, he even missed out on Johnny's birthday to win a decathlon back in high school.

As soon as he gets to his apartment, he rushes to his laptop, brews the coffee grounds dusting on his shelf (a gift from Johnny, his own coffee connoisseur brother), and gets to work.

The thing about him being under pressure is that his mind basically goes into overdrive. There’s no stopping him from the sudden burst of words he types at lightning speed on his Google doc, and if not for it being completely unhealthy, then he’d say it’s his most effective way of getting things done.

He finishes his paper in the nick of time, just before midnight hits, and he falls asleep on his desk as soon as he hits send.

He wakes up to a stiff neck and an aching back, and worst of all, the memory of Taeyong telling him to text as soon as he’s made it back home safely.

“Shit,” he mumbles to himself, jolting up in his seat. It shakes his desk, almost toppling his laptop, but he quickly gets up to look for his phone which he’s thrown somewhere as soon as he got home. When he finally finds it under the covers of his bed, he taps on it only to find no unread messages.

It makes his stomach turn thinking he’s missed out on the window of opportunity to initiate a conversation. Great, now Taeyong thinks he hated it and any attempt at texting him this late would feel nothing more but a polite way of declining a next one.

But then a message suddenly pops up on screen, except it isn't what he's hoped for. It's an acknowledgement receipt email from his professor and a note saying how excited she is to read his output.

It should make him feel good, knowing that he’s managed to impress her before he could even prove himself. But this time, somehow Doyoung feels more devastated than ever.

-

When the next Friday rolls in, Doyoung doesn’t sleepover at Johnny’s. Not because he didn’t want to, but the workload from uni was starting to take its toll. At least that’s what he convinced himself when Johnny came looking for him.

But then the next few weeks passed, and although there were no more papers to submit, Doyoung still kept to himself, waiting for a text he knew was never coming.

Jaehyun and Yuta stopped their Friday night ritual as well. Seems like the hospital bill they split on served as a good enough lesson to not get blackout drunk anymore, so they ended up squeezing themselves at Doyoung’s tiny apartment instead.

Doyoung doesn’t want to push them off, either, so after every night class, he’d let them buy a case of beer and a couple of junk food, even paying for his own share. Then they’d walk to his place and pass the time with a movie. Doyoung would zone out for the most part, barely reacting to scenes where Yuta and Jaehyun would be on their feet, heavily debating after every show, and he’d feign interest as he stops trying to glance down at his phone for every notification he gets, only hoping for one text. 

As expected, he doesn’t go unnoticed for long.

“Don’t get mad,” Jaehyun tells him ahead during the next lecture. He slides in a seat beside him as Yuta sits on the other side, both them cornering him.

They set their bags down the floor, careful not to awaken the senses of the razor sharp ears of their professor who hisses at the slightest of sounds. Doyoung feels a pit sinking on his stomach when he looks up at Jaehyun biting his fingers anxiously while Yuta is grinning wide on the other end.

The look on his face falters. It’s never a good thing when Yuta grins wide.

“What now?” he warns.

“I just want to set it clear that this wasn’t my idea,” Jaehyun quips.

Yuta sighs, reaching out to hit his shoulder with the back of his hand. Doyoung leans back for good measure, mainly to avoid getting swatted in the face.

“Stop, I told you this is fine.” Yuta turns to Doyoung. “Listen, in case you haven’t noticed, you’ve been distant with us these past few months. It doesn’t even need to–”

“What the hell did you guys do?”

Jaehyun scratches his head. “We set you up on a date.”

Doyoung allows his jaw to drop, blinking back at his friends in disbelief as he watches Jaehyun wince at his silence. “A date,” he deadpans.

“With Jinyoung,” adds Yuta, as if that makes it any better. “You’ve met him before. He’s not bad, right? He’s got an Audi.”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“No, but exactly!” His eyes brighten, pointing at Doyoung like that’s what he’s been waiting to hear for the perfect counterargument. He gets reprimanded by their professor instead.

“Mr. Nakamoto, one more word and I’m gonna have you discuss Michels’ dissertation in Political Sociology since you sound so eager to.”

“Sorry, Mr. Lee.” He slinks back on his seat, quietly mumbling, “I don’t even know who the fuck Michels is…” as their professor turns back to his slideshow. 

They turn their attention back to class for a few good seconds, and Doyoung thinks it's enough for the conversation to drop. But then he feels Yuta slowly creeping beside him, breathing out a whisper.

“As I was saying,” he continues. “I know you hate high-end brand guys like that, but Jinyoung’s different. He’s–”

“The same as every rich guy.”

“He was really fun when we hung out with him, you’ll like him a lot.”

“Yuta,” Doyoung hisses, back stiff as he tries his hardest in paying attention to the lecture before he could get roped in a warning. “The last time you hung out with him, you blacked out and hit your head in a sink.”

“Hey! That’s not the point.”

Jaehyun flicks a crumpled sheet of paper that hits Yuta's shoulder to tone him down before they get in trouble. He turns to Doyoung, doe-eyed and pleading, “Just try it, maybe?” he asks, like if Doyoung says no it would mean the equivalent of kicking a poor helpless puppy. 

It's a longshot, and Doyoung knows his friends think so too. So why are they so insistent on something so impossible?

He drags in a long breath, resting both elbows on the table as he sighs it all out in his palms.

“We know you’re hiding something from us. We’re not dumb,” Yuta adds, voice hurt that it makes Doyoung look back at him with a confused frown.

“What?”

"You ditch us on Friday nights because you were seeing someone, right? But things didn’t work out because now you’re not running off as fast as you can after every class. We put in V for Vendetta for you last week and you barely looked like you cared. That's your favorite fucking movie, dude.”

He blinks, speechless, and this allows Yuta to go on his spiel.

“We just thought that if the case is you got your dumb little heart broken by some dumb little jerk we never even got to meet, then maybe you just need to meet a not-so dumb jerk that your friends vouched for.”

This time, Doyoung manages to unclasp his jaw from its stiffness. “That’s not,” he starts off weak, shaking his head, “that’s not even remotely close.”

He doesn’t even know why he’s hiding it in the first place. If it’s because of trying to lie about how his initial intentions of hiding from bar nights have now progressed into something more– into genuinely seeking to spend time with Taeyong, it isn’t like his friends would hate him for it.

But for some reason, Taeyong is something that Doyoung wants for himself. Something that might go away if he overwhelms it. And he doesn’t want Taeyong to go away.

“Look, we’re not forcing you to tell us, Doyoung,” Jaehyun says, as if he could hear his thoughts. Is it that loud? “But we’re your friends,” he says matter-of-factly. “We get worried, that’s all.”

Doyoung nods. They may be a bit too much for him to handle sometimes, but they all want the best of him, that he’s sure of. “So you guys think a date is what I need.”

Yuta nods, unhesitant, while Jaehyun shrugs. “We’ll find out.”

He owes them. He knows it’s awful of him to remain a closed book when both of his friends are reaching out, and it’s not like he’s proud of it either. He has to make it up for them. They’re not the most conventional, but he’s disappointed them way too much to refuse a simple favor.

After all, maybe this is what Doyoung needs to get his mind off. It’s just one innocent date, and Jinyoung is nice. It was unfair that he was a little rattled when they first met so maybe this is a good chance to get to know him without pinning red flags at his every word.

“Fine,” he mumbles under his breath.

Yuta looks as if he isn’t expecting him to give in so soon, blinking back a few times before he leans in across the table. “Say that again?”

“Fine, I’ll go. But I can’t promise I’ll enjoy it.”

If it weren’t for the risk of getting banned out of the room, then Yuta would’ve tackled him with a hug, but instead he grins the widest of all grins, burying his mouth from a squeal that was bound to have him kicked out of the room for good.

“Works for me,” Jaehyun shrugs, finally leaning down on his seat in relief.

-

Doyoung isn’t one to be so easily phased over fine dining, and a part of him wonders why Jaehyun and Yuta couldn’t have warned Jinyoung about this very fact. Inherently, he’s annoyed before the food even arrives.

He finds himself gaining a sudden interest on the hem of the table cloth, eyes fixated on how the seams are weaved so precisely while Jinyoung constantly keeps the conversation going without even realizing Doyoung has been zoning out.

It’s funny, he thinks to himself. He could stay in comfortable silence with Taeyong as long as time would let him, yet somehow he feels less at ease right now where Jinyoung never runs out of things to talk about.

“Have you ever had Kobe beef before? The marbling on that thing is amazing. Melts right in your mouth.”

Doyoung shakes his head, taking a bite into the niblet-sized serving he tries not to scowl at. 

“Amazing, right?”

He nods, chewing on the piece of meat. Truth be told, it tastes like any other meat.

When it was time to finally foot the bill, Jinyoung took the receipt before Doyoung could say he’d pay out of courtesy. Thank god, he thought to himself. There was no way he could afford whatever they just ate, and his stomach was barely even filled. His eyes catch sight of Jinyoung’s cardholder and his astounding amount of sleek black credit cards that flashes its golden stripes in the light. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s been making a sour face until Jinyoung says:

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jinyoung chuckles, almost embarrassed. “My parents gave them to me, but I use my own.” He whips one out, a little more colorful than the rest, and waves it lightly. “Kinda proud to say I haven’t been sued for credit card debt yet.”

He laughs at his own words, and Doyoung would’ve too, if not for the memory of a private joke revolving one.

Taeyong. 

His chest sinks at the recollection of their first interaction down to their last, which has already been a few weeks ago. The silence was evident between the two of them, and Doyoung still wonders why Taeyong hasn’t reached out to him. Not that it was responsibility. Doyoung just hates to admit he’s scared of making the first move.

He doesn’t even bother hiding the dismayed look on his face, not even when Jinyoung takes it as a cue that it was a bad joke. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “That was way funnier in my head. Are you okay though? You look a little…”

“What? Oh. Yeah, I was just... thinking of something.”

He figures he’d end it as vaguely as that, not giving Jinyoung too much detail on how his mind is constantly revolving around Taeyong as of now. On how much he wishes it’s Taeyong he’s with, and no, they wouldn’t be in a pretentious fine dining restaurant. They’d be walking by the river or eating street food, and that’d be enough. Because besides the games, besides the constant teasing and eye-rolling, besides the satisfaction of winning against him, maybe Doyoung just really likes spending time with him.

Doyoung would just really like to spend some time with him again.

He looks back up at Jinyoung, the moral compass in him suddenly kicking in. It’s unfair not to admit that his heart is set elsewhere. “Someone, actually,” he says, correcting himself.

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, apologetic.

He squirms in his seat as he watches Jinyoung piece things together, and thankfully, the waitress arrives with the receipt and returns his card, cutting off half the tension. Doyoung takes it as the chance to get up from his seat. “Thank you for the meal, Jinyoung,” he says politely, offering a bow just as he starts making his way out the door.

“Wait,” Jinyoung calls out, standing up. “Don’t you want me to drive you back home?”

“It’s okay,” he says, shaking his head. He had already made it awkward enough, and if he had to endure a few more agonizing minutes on the way back to his apartment, matched with needing to stoop down one more time just to fit in the seat of a sports car, Doyoung might just lose it. “I can walk.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Jinyoung hesitates for a second, but eventually nods. “Okay. I’ll, uh… See you around?”

Doyoung would’ve said ‘Probably not until the next lifetime,’ but he seals his mouth and nods instead. And then he dashes.

Once he’s outside, his feet start leading him towards the bus stop, but a part of Doyoung knows he wants something else. He’s staring at his phone, wondering if he should make a move or not. What if he doesn’t pick up? Or worse. What if Taeyong isn’t even interested anymore?

He shakes the thought off, letting his fingers lead him towards something irreversible.

Only one way to find out.

"Hey,” Taeyong answers when the third ring barely rang. 

Doyoung tries to ignore his heart beating out of his chest, praying its pounding isn't audible enough for him to hear on the other end. "Are you free today?"

"Wh- right now?" Taeyong’s bewildered voice is evident, and if Doyoung was in his place, he’d be too. They don’t speak for weeks and the moment they do, he’s being asked on a last-minute date. He doesn’t know where he’s suddenly getting the guts to make a move, but he lets the words out before he could back away.

"Yes," he answers, not giving him much insight. The truth is he hasn’t thought this far ahead. All that Doyoung’s sure of is that he just wants to spend time with him.

"I, uh– I mean, yeah."

"Cool," he nods. "Do you want to meet up?"

"Where are you?"

"18th Avenue. Or if that's too inconvenient from you, I can take the bus to–"

"Give me fifteen minutes. I'm on my way."

He stops in his tracks, skidding his shoes at the end of an alleyway when he realizes that Taeyong is just as willing to act on impulse as he is. "Cool,” he says. “I'll… I'll see you."

"I'll see you."

And just like that, Doyoung gets the date he’s been wanting.

Doyoung waits by the bus stop. He sits beside an elderly woman waiting for her ride, staring down at his phone as he watches the minutes pass by waiting for Taeyong. Not long after that, he gets a handful of texts from Jaehyun and Yuta flooding him with questions about how his date went, so he figures it best to shut his phone off. Maybe he’ll muster up the courage to tell them some other time.

He doesn’t even realize the elderly woman had finally stood up, not until he feels a familiar press on his shoulder by a new person taking her spot. He glances to see who it is, and sure enough, it’s who he's wanted it to be.

There’s a small smile on Taeyong’s face, eyes looking down on his feet. His ashy hair has been washed out and his hair grew too, dark roots showing at the top of his head. Somehow Doyoung thinks he looks more and more beautiful. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay,” Doyoung shakes his head, trying hard not to marvel too obviously. “Sorry for… such short notice.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was debugging the game all night and figured I needed a break. Good thing you called.” He says it in a way so sweet that Doyoung feels like he’s been waiting for him all this time, and he regrets not having the guts to make a move way earlier. “So,” Taeyong starts, “what’d you have in mind?”

There aren't any solid plans. Doyoung didn’t even think Taeyong would say yes, but he did, and now he’s here– shoulder pressed against his that it makes him want to rest his head and stay there. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, quiet and honest. 

Taeyong looks back at him and squints in amusement.

The truth is, for Doyoung, this was already enough. 

They end up in an arcade. It being the middle of the week, there were barely any people crowding the video games and pinball machines, and since Taeyong was the one to decide where they’d go instead, Doyoung agreed.

“You’d love this,” Taeyong says, leading Doyoung to a machine in the corner of the arcade. “This one’s high score hasn’t been beaten since 2015. Legend says it will remain unbeaten for the next few years, and to this day, the children still try,” he says dramatically, a grin spreading over his face.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Too hard, I guess,” Taeyong shrugs. “It’s a sliding puzzle. The fastest recorded time was by that famous math prodigy who left town a few years ago. No one’s beaten his record ever since.” He sighs, walking past Doyoung. “Anyway, don’t bother. I doubt you could anyway.”

Doyoung scoffs, looking back to where Taeyong is headed. There’s nothing more that motivates him than proving him wrong, and when Taeyong looks back at him with a tight-lipped smile, he knows he’s being teased. 

“How hard could it be?” he asks, digging for his wallet to trade his money off for coins.

As expected, he loses. Again and again. He’s spent almost an entire day’s meal’s worth in attempting to beat the fastest record, and although he lands on the high score chart, it doesn’t satisfy him knowing he hasn’t scored the highest. Taeyong must’ve felt bad for him too, so he chips in with his own money to help.

When he loses the last time, he squints, dropping his head against the machine as he grumbles, “This isn’t why we’re here. I’m sorry.” 

But Taeyong only laughs beside him. “Hey, you’re getting the hang of it though.”

Doyoung would’ve thought he was only saying it to make him feel better, but he looks up and finds that he’s landed in 2nd place and was only short by a few seconds. He straightens his back and grabs the last coin.

“Last one, I promise.” And he slots it in, trying to solve the puzzle as soon as it starts, counting on every nth of a second.

Taeyong doesn’t bother moving an inch beside him, feeling just as tense as he is, and Doyoung figures he’s holding his breath too. Still, he focuses on sliding the pieces as quickly as he can, and when he finally slots the last one, the chart loads to count his score and–

“I won,” he mumbles, mouth gaping open as ‘KDY’ blinks at the top spot. “I won!” He shouts for joy, springing on his feet with both of his hands covering his mouth.

"Doyoung, holy shit!"

He turns back at Taeyong who looks just as thrilled that they’ve beaten the current high score, and he’s laughing and smiling just as wide as him. He opens his arms up to wrap Doyoung’s shoulders and Doyoung meets him halfway, burying himself in the warmth of Taeyong’s layered clothing.

Suddenly, there’s a surge of unthinkability that runs through him, possibly the adrenaline of winning, because when he finally lifts his head from his neck, his hands find the back of Taeyong’s head– “You–” and he leans in to close the gap between their lips before Taeyong could even finish whatever it is he was saying.

It’s met with a surprised yelp, but Taeyong’s words get buried inside Doyoung’s mouth, and by then, he’s already kissing him back. His hands trail up on the back of his head, digging them under the mass of hair, and Doyoung grips onto him tighter, pulling him in closer because he’s been wanting to taste his mouth for a while now, and now he has. And it’s just as electrifying as he thought it’d be.

Doyoung is the first to let go, mainly to catch his breath, and he presses his forehead against his, lips hovering. “Sorry,” he says, breathless. “You were saying something?”

Taeyong keeps his eyes shut, unmoving as he slowly flutters them open. His lashes tickle Doyoung’s cheeks and there’s a tug on the corners of his lips as he asks, “Was I?”

Doyoung lets out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he breaks away from him. “Now don’t tell me I’ve rendered you speechless just like that.”

Now it’s Taeyong who’s laughing. “If I knew a date with you would end up like this, you should’ve called me weeks ago.”

Doyoung swats his chest, no real malice to it, and the next thing he knows is that Taeyong is bringing his own hand up to reach out for his. He stares at it, how their fingers intertwine, how they fill the gap in a way Doyoung never knew would be, how Taeyong keeps it close to his heart, allowing him to feel the rise and fall of his chest.

Doyoung knows where it all started, but he doesn’t know how it began. He never saw himself opening up to anyone because he’s been perfectly fine by himself. Sure, he had friends, but at most is he’d tail behind, letting his happiness rely on theirs.

Until one day, somewhere in the middle of wanting to escape someone he isn’t, Taeyong stumbles in, and then slowly… slowly Doyoung begins to find his own. 

Taeyong does nothing more but make him choose his own happiness for once.

“Hey,” Doyoung says. He allows their hands to drop but neither of them let go, and if either of them have trouble getting their hands off each other like this, then maybe it’s time Doyoung introduced him to his friends and family. “Do you like dogs?”

-

Having his friends meet Taeyong has been nothing but mortifying for Doyoung. As expected. He made sure to keep them in check the minute they started harassing him with questions, but fortunately it isn’t enough to scare Taeyong off. He quips effortlessly, throwing a question back asking if the two of them are dating, and when it takes a hot minute for Jaehyun and Yuta to come up with an answer, Doyoung looks back at Taeyong, impressed how he got that out of them so quickly.

In the short amount of time Taeyong excuses himself to pee, Doyoung turns to his friends, sulking. “So you two weren’t gonna tell me?”

Yuta snorts. “You’re one to talk.”

“Hey, I literally just introduced Taeyong today.”

“We meant saying no to Friday nights,” Jaehyun says, tilting his head at Doyoung. “I know I said you didn’t have to explain anything, but you know you could’ve just said something to us, right? That you hated it so much? We could’ve come up with far better traditions. One that doesn’t involve a busted skull.”

Doyoung sags his shoulders down, leaning back on the couch as he gains a sudden interest at picking on his fingernails, and Yuta flicks a cornchip at him that makes him look up. “Hey.” He watches the grin spread over his friend’s face, desperately trying to hide it as he takes a swig of his beer. “He sounds like a keeper.”

It doesn’t take long for Johnny and Taeil to welcome Taeyong with open arms either. Especially Bean. Perhaps Hyuck would’ve felt the tensioned rivalry between the two of them had he not idolized him so much. It also helps how Taeyong would teach him cheats for the game, and that’s enough for Hyuck to forgive him for stealing Bean’s love. If anything, it’s Doyoung who’s alarmed for potentially getting kicked off as the favorite uncle.

“Hey.”

Doyoung blinks his eyes open at the sound of Taeyong’s voice. He crashed in for a quick nap at the guest room as soon as he got here, eyes sore from the countless reading material he has for the week.

Before he could even get up, Taeyong buries himself under his weight, enveloping him with his arms and pinning him down the bed.

“Get off,” Doyoung whines, but Taeyong only wraps him in harder. He keeps squirming and whining until he’s found enough leeway to roll him off, and now it’s him on top of Taeyong. “Since when did you get here?”

“About ten minutes ago. I was playing with Bean then when I gave him treats, he went off. Guess he only wants me for my food." He pouts under him and Doyoung lets out a laugh as he shifts his weight up.

He watches as Taeyong sits up with him and Doyoung gets on his lap, resting his hands on either sides of his shoulders as he leans in to lock their lips together.

It’s a kiss he’s been longing for since last week– slow and languid and sultry, almost enough to send him in a daze if he hadn’t just woken up from a nap, and after the long tiresome hours in class, he’d say this is the perfect pay off.

“Stay the night,” he breathes out as soon as he inches his face away. “I’ll lend you some of my clothes.”

Taeyong smiles, tilting his head up just enough to steal another kiss from him. “What are you insinuating, Kim Doyoung?”

Doyoung doesn’t answer. Instead, he kisses back, hands sliding on the back of Taeyong’s head as he melts in his lips. He feels Taeyong’s palms creeping under his shirt and pressing onto his skin, thumb running small circles on his waist. His hand crawls up his bare skin higher and higher until–

“Dinner’s r–”

A sudden knock on the door.

Doyoung’s eyes dart open, quickly rolling off on top of Taeyong, except it isn’t enough for it to miss. He pulls down at his shirt and he whips his head back at Hyuck by the end of the room, whose mouth is dropped open for a few good seconds until he finally comes back to his senses.

“....ready.”

Taeyong clears his throat. “Yeah, we’ll be there.” He looks a bit more composed than Doyoung. Well, if not for the messed up hair, at least, and possibly a growing boner that he hides with a pillow. But nonetheless, he keeps his cool.

Hyuck nods back. He doesn’t let go of the knob, blinking back the memory of what he just saw. “Hyung,” he calls out for Doyoung who’s looking restless as he stands up, smoothing his shirt down from the creases of what was about to transpire.

“Hm?”

He watches a tug pull on the corners of Hyuck’s lips. “Don’t talk to strangers on the internet, huh?”

Despite bracing himself for the inevitable, his cheeks still flush. On his peripheral, Taeyong drops his head down, ears redding just as much as his. “Out,” he orders. “Out!” and Hyuck only snickers, running on his feet when Doyoung gets set to chase after him.

“Real charmer,” Taeyong notes as soon as Hyuck leaves.

Doyoung turns back at him, pointing a finger. “You befriended him first, don’t forget.”