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Chapter Text

It's a cold Wednesday evening in April when everything really begins. The board games are stacked on the coffee table in the living room, the mood lighting is set, and the pizza is on its way. 

Game Night.

If you asked each of the Lee Brothers what 'game night' meant before Johnny From Chicago walked into their lives (otherwise known as Johnny Suh, and Taeyong's boyfriend of nearly four years), they'd each have a very different definition of the term. For oldest brother Taeyong, it would be a night-in curled up on the couch with Animal Crossing running on his Nintendo Switch. Even at twenty-four he's obsessed with the game, and sometimes hours disappear without him noticing until they're gone. Often, he'll play whilst snuggling with Johnny on the sofa in their apartment, and will wake up after a long Animal Crossing stint with Johnny's head in his lap, snoring softly. It's a way to switch off his brain for a while at least, when he's not absorbed in an art project or a gig for the animation company he's recently started working for. 

“Johnny?” Taeyong calls from the tiny space they call a kitchen, his voice halfway between a whine and a purr. 

“Hm?”

Taeyong frowns as he rummages through the cramped kitchen cupboards. “Where are my pretzels?” he almost accuses, voice now muffled since his head is somewhere inside the snack cupboard.

Johnny pokes his head around the kitchen door, arriving almost instantly at the sound of trouble. “Huh?” He fights the urge to laugh when he sees Taeyong’s butt sticking up in the air with the way he’s contorted himself to reach the very back of the cupboard. 

“My mini pretzels!” Taeyong huffs. “I can't find them anywhere.” He falls back out of the cupboard onto the cheap linoleum flooring the previous owner put down, and looks up at Johnny with a pout on his lips and deep dissatisfaction in his eyes.

It’s hard not to melt when Taeyong’s so adorable looking at him like that, but Johnny does his best. “Oh, they're in the fridge next to the beer,” he says casually, like he’s known this the entire time Taeyong’s been ransacking his own kitchen. He can’t help but mess with his boyfriend a little, because the reaction is enough to set him off laughing for real.

Taeyong stares at him, mouth agape, and then scrambles over to the refrigerator. “Why would you put them in the fridge?” he demands incredulously.

Johnny struggles to answer that one as he tries to keep a straight face. “I don't know…” he says with an exaggerated shrug, “it was kinda just… automatic when I put the shopping away that time, I guess.”

“They're gonna be all cold now,” Taeyong sighs.

Out of his younger twin brothers, Jeno (the older twin) would take a completely different meaning from the term 'game night' and would probably challenge you to an impromptu soccer game in the backyard. He's been obsessed with the sport since he started playing at six, and is now playing for the university team as a freshman. Unlike his twin, however, he's more of a team player when it comes to competition. He's a leader but takes direction well, and likes to get everyone involved. It's just too bad that Johnny From Chicago is more of an American football guy than a soccer nerd.

If you asked the younger twin Donghyuck the same question (younger by only two minutes, he'll always add), he would definitely have a solo game night. This would probably consist of him shutting the door on his annoying family and playing multiplayer games of League of Legends on his enormous computer set-up all night. It's not that he doesn't like his family, it's just that Taeyong's extent of gaming is Animal Crossing, and Jeno is practically a technophobe with the rate he can sprint away from a technology-related crisis. It's ridiculous because Jeno is the sort of guy who thinks he can fix any problem from a flat tire to a blocked toilet, but he will give up at the speed of light when his computer shows him the loading screen of death.

“Can Jeno really not make it tonight?” Johnny wonders aloud as his boyfriend rescues the mini pretzels from the bottom shelf of the fridge. 

“He’s got soccer practice.”

“Soccer,” Johnny scoffs. “Play a real sport.”

Taeyong shoots him a withering look.

“Kidding!” Johnny says, holding up his hands in surrender.

“You know he’s always got soccer practice on Wednesdays,” Taeyong says.

Johnny leans against the doorframe. “Well, why don’t we change Game Night to… I dunno… a Friday instead?” he suggests.

“Because you finish early on Wednesdays, stupid. We’ve been over this.” Taeyong’s eyes are fixed on the multi-packs of beer cans at the bottom of his refrigerator, almost as if he’s counting the sheer number of them. “Why do we have so much beer?”

“I like beer,” Johnny answers in his own defence. When Taeyong throws him a raised eyebrow and a questioning look, he’s quick to add, “I thought it would be fun. It’s been a long week.”

“It’s only Wednesday,” Taeyong points out. He’s still sitting on the floor with the refrigerator door wide open, contemplating whether or not to take the beer out. At the same time, his knees are getting cold through the enormous holes in his skinny jeans, and leaving the fridge door open is wasting electricity.

“I know, baby, three whole days,” says Johnny in a wheedling tone. He steps into the kitchen and crouches by the fridge to take out the first multi-pack of beer, smiling in the most persuasive way he can muster. “Besides, you won’t have to drink much anyway.”

Taeyong watches Johnny pick up the beers, muscles flexing in his biceps (probably on purpose). “Are you calling me a lightweight?” he accuses, though he doesn’t put up much of a fight because he knows his boyfriend is right.

Johnny stops to lean in and press his lips to Taeyong’s cheekbone. “Yes,” he says matter-of-factly. “But you’re really cute when you’re drunk. I mean, cuter than usual.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “You’re the worst,” he tells him, and grabs a fistful of Johnny’s t-shirt to pull him in and kiss him properly - heavier, deeper, until the room is spinning and Game Night is the last thing on their minds.

But when Johnny pulls away, he’s smirking. “I know,” he says.

The moment is shattered by a muffled shout of victory from another room in the apartment, probably something screamed into a headset at a particularly irritating opponent. 

“ Yes! Fuck you, loser!”

Johnny stands and offers Taeyong a hand up from the floor. He kicks the refrigerator shut with his foot and glances in the direction of the sound. “Is Donghyuck really planning on staying over?” he asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” Taeyong shrugs. He's cold now, so his hands disappear under the sleeves of the sweatshirt he's recently stolen from Johnny. He grabs his bag of mini pretzels and follows Johnny into the living room. “He said something about the people in his dorm being really loud.”

“That was Monday’s excuse,” Johnny mutters. As much as he loves Taeyong’s younger brothers and would like to have them over more often, he knows the real reason Donghyuck is always around. He’s managed to stash his entire gaming set-up in the tiny spare bedroom (which is more like a cupboard than an actual room) and will drop by almost every night to use it. 

Taeyong puts the pretzels down next to the Monopoly box. “You know he can’t play his games at the dorm,” he reasons. “He’d keep his roommate up all night.”

“He’d keep the whole university up all night,” Johnny grunts. Donghyuck is a particularly loud gamer, and everyone knows it. Johnny is especially aware of this fact when he’s trying to fall asleep next to Taeyong and all he can hear is Donghyuck cursing other players in the spare room.

“At least we get to see him more often!” Taeyong places a hand on Johnny’s shoulder and draws circles with the pad of his thumb. He's desperately optimistic because he knows how much Johnny wants to be accepted by his family.

Johnny looks at the Monopoly box in disappointment. “Honestly, I find it insulting that he won’t participate in Game Night,” he admits.

“Unfortunately, he prefers League of Legends to hanging out with the hyungs,” Taeyong says, and he wraps his hands around Johnny's arm comfortingly.

Johnny thinks Donghyuck’s game preference is categorically wrong.

In Johnny’s humble opinion, a proper game night means board games in front of the fire and eleven pizza boxes demolished by ten o'clock. This is why the twins never attend the weekly game night at Taeyong and Johnny's place. Jeno always has practise on Wednesdays with the university soccer team, and when he’s not training he’s trying to find a spare minute to spend with his brand new girlfriend. Donghyuck, meanwhile, would rather be pulling an all-nighter on his game consoles than moving little metal dogs around a Monopoly board in his older brother's living room.

Johnny just wants a proper family game night for once, but that’s also pretty hard to achieve when his own family are an ocean away, and Taeyong’s parents are still having a difficult time accepting the fact that their son is gay. (A very difficult time.)

So, when they hold Game Night in their tiny apartment every Wednesday evening, it only ever has a turnout of three: Johnny, Taeyong, and their now-mutual friend - Taeyong's ride-or-die best friend Ten. 

“Was that the doorbell?”

“That’ll be Ten!” Taeyong bounces over to the front door, eager to get Game Night started and lift the mood. 

Ten is from Thailand, which means his birth name is so long that Johnny fucks it up every time he tries to remember it. (That's sort of the reason he goes by Ten now that he’s living in Korea full time.) When Taeyong opens the door, Ten is standing there grinning, carrying a rather large bottle of wine. He lives alone and is sort of a homebody these days, so he's become a more recent addition to Family Game Night (which isn't exactly family-exclusive anymore, since no one else in Taeyong's family will agree to join). The main reason Ten is invited over every Wednesday evening is because he's a secret board game fiend, and also because he and Taeyong have been practically inseparable since the day they met. By association (and also due to a mutual love of board games) he's now also a close friend of Johnny's.

"I brought wine," he says almost apologetically, upon entering the apartment. "I won it in the bingo in a team meeting at work, but I don't really drink anymore so I figured you guys might get better use out of it…"

Taeyong flings his arms around his friend's neck and hugs him warmly, though Ten doesn't exactly have an arm free to hug him back. “Thank you!” he says brightly, squeezing the living daylights out of his friend. “I love a bit of wine in front of the TV on a Friday night, don't I, baby?”

"He falls asleep within the first ten minutes of an episode," Johnny responds with a fond smile. He brings Ten in for a bro-hug, once he's passed the wine to Taeyong, which Ten quickly converts into a proper hug. 

(Ten is very well known for giving the best, warmest, and most solid hugs ever. He will never half-arse it.)

"Ten knows I'm a lightweight, John," Taeyong says, rolling his eyes. (He probably doesn't realise how much Johnny likes it when he calls him John.) He puts the wine next to the pretzels, and the three of them scatter across the sofa and beanbags in the living room.

" Everyone knows," Ten chimes in with a sing-song tone. “We didn't spend all of our second year in the club for nothing, did we, Yong?”

“Those were dark days,” Taeyong shudders. 

“I would actually kill to see you in the club, Yongie,” Johnny laughs. He missed out on most of Taeyong's clubbing days, since they were mostly over when the two of them met during Johnny's year abroad. Now that they're both in their mid-twenties, they don't go out nearly as much. 

“Oh, no you wouldn't,” Taeyong firmly disagrees, shaking his head fervently.

“Those days are part of the reason I'm glad I'm sober now,” says Ten, though the memories of Taeyong throwing up in club toilets does still make him smile. (It's all nostalgia now, and nostalgia is always tinged with gold.)

“Hear hear,” Taeyong agrees. He tears open his bag of mini pretzels and starts crunching on them. Everyone is desperate for the pizza to arrive.

Johnny’s eyes dart from his pretzel-crunching boyfriend to the Monopoly box that sits in the middle of the coffee table. “So… Monopoly?”

"Loser!"

The three of them sit frozen, with Johnny's outstretched hand hovering over the Monopoly box. 

"Don't fucking come at me just because I'm better than you."

Ten raises an eyebrow. Taeyong just shoves another handful of pretzels in his mouth.

"Jesus Christ, fine! Fucking report me then, if you can't face the fact that I completely destroyed you."

"Someone having a domestic?” Ten jokes, eyes darting between his friends and the source of the shouting.

Taeyong nearly spits pretzel crumbs in his face, but he controls himself at the last minute. He shakes his head at his friend and sighs. " That would be my little brother Donghyuck."

"Fucking bullshit."

" Oh ," Ten says. He pauses, frowns, and then adds, "Wow, in all the years we've known each other… I don't think I've ever met your brothers before."

"You're the lucky one then," Johnny chimes in with a laugh. Taeyong gives him a back-handed slap to the chest and Johnny falls silent.

"He's competing in an online tournament, or something," Taeyong says, struggling to remember exactly what Donghyuck had told him on his way through the front door earlier that day.

"But he won't compete in an actual competition," Johnny says, with emphasis on the word actual . 

The other two look at him and he nods towards the board games. 

"By actual competition, I mean Game Night," he adds flatly. "If that wasn't already clear."

Ten purses his lips, deep in thought for a moment. "Do you think he’ll want to join us?”

“ Noooo ,” Taeyong says firmly.

“ Yessss ,” Johnny disagrees.

A slow smile starts to spread across Ten's face. “Hey, Monopoly is always better with more players,” he reasons. 

Taeyong just shrugs and munches on his pretzels. “Well, you can ask him,” he says. “There’s no way he’ll ever say yes.”

Ten pulls his sweater off over his head and gets to his feet. “Spare room?” he guesses.

Taeyong and Johnny both respond in sync. “Second door on your right.”

So Ten ventures further into the apartment and bypasses the main bedroom to the second closed door. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how he should greet someone who isn’t quite a stranger (since he’s Taeyong’s younger brother and all) but isn’t quite an acquaintance yet. He brushes dark hair out of his eyes and ultimately decides to knock.

“I told you I’m busy, hyung.”

Okay… not exactly the best start. But winners never quit, right? Ten's pretty sure his mom used a metaphor along those lines when he was younger and still uploading dance covers to YouTube. Ten straightens his shoulders, turns the handle, and steps into the box-sized cupboard that the local residents call The Spare Room.

And that - in that unprecedented moment - is when Lee Donghyuck’s life officially changes.

There's a man standing in the doorway to the spare room and the minute Donghyuck turns his head, he's certain this man is shrouded in golden light. He's like an angel, or something - maybe something like a Greek god (if Greek gods aren't particularly tall, and wear the most basic outfit formulas ever: white t-shirt, blue jeans, of course). His skin is sunkissed and gorgeous, his dark hair is somewhat sexy, and Donghyuck needs to remember to breathe. And to top it all off, he has small fine-line tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves and crawling down his arm. Donghyuck is finding it very difficult to hear whatever this man is saying to him. Clearly all of that analysis of this man must be fact, not opinion. Although, it isn't weird for a guy to find another guy attractive, right?

Donghyuck gapes. (He feels like an idiot, sitting there in his sweatpants with his mouth hanging open.)

Right?

"Do you… want to play?" The strange man's lips are moving but Donghyuck can't quite process what he's saying.

Do you want to play? What the heck does that mean? Do you want to play… what , exactly? Donghyuck can still feel himself blinking gormlessly at the guy, but his brain can't bring itself to respond. On the other hand, he's pretty sure his brain will say yes faster than the speed of light to anything this man asks.

(The internal realisation is somewhat terrifying.)

Eventually, all he can manage to say is, “I’m… Donghyuck.”

Great. Now he sounds like a complete dumbass.

“Oh, right,” the man chuckles sheepishly, bowing his head in what seems to be embarrassment. (Do Greek gods even get embarrassed?) “Sorry, I forgot we’ve never met. I’m Ten.”

Another long pause.

“Your brother’s friend?”

Which brother?

“We went to uni together?” Ten really starts trying to jog his memory now. “We were roommates in first year?”

Oh, that brother.

And that is when Donghyuck’s brain truly refuses to function. Sure, he’s heard of Ten - Taeyong’s university friend who he has somehow miraculously never met. But that Ten is supposed to be the loser who works in accounts, lives alone, and whose highlight of the week is the bingo at work after the Friday team meetings. At least that's all Donghyuck has gathered from the information Taeyong has force-fed him about the guy. This Ten is everything but a loser. Donghyuck finds himself majorly confused.

“Ah, yeah,” he laughs nervously after too many moments have passed. “And you’re here because…?”

Ten's eyes narrow as he tries to figure this kid out. “It’s Game Night,” he says, like it’s self-explanatory enough. “Wanna join?”

For some reason, Donghyuck feels awfully defensive - probably because human beings aren’t supposed to be made that pretty. So even though he wants to say, “YES!” in all capitals, and jump into Ten's arms and do whatever he says, Donghyuck decides to be petty about it.

“Yeah,” he says. “ Family Game Night.” He stares at Ten pointedly. “Last time I checked, we're not related.”

(He hopes and prays they are definitely not related.)

Ten takes a deep breath and rubs his face. This is going to be more difficult than he originally anticipated. “Listen, kid,” he says, leaning against the doorframe in a way that makes Donghyuck's kidneys take a crash course in professional gymnastics. “Board games are really good for the brain. Plus, there's pizza, so… it's a win-win, right?”

Donghyuck scoffs despite himself. “Right.”

“Alright, I just asked if you want to join us, that’s all,” Ten says, waving his hands helplessly. He’s almost defeated, because he has no idea how to make board games appeal to teenagers. He's forgotten what it's like to be a teenager in the first place.

“Oh, did you?” Donghyuck asks, his tone heavily laced with sarcasm, “I couldn’t hear you from all the way over there in Loserville.” That was lame.

Ten finally lets out a sigh. “So you don’t want to play,” he states, starting to turn back towards the door of the spare room. “That’s fine, I just wanted to put the offer out there. Enjoy… whatever you were in the middle of doing…”

“But…” Donghyuck’s words die in his throat and he instantly regrets his initial reaction to Ten and his halo of light barging into his life. “Wait!”

Ten raises his eyebrows, kind of like a dad waiting for a reasonable explanation.

“I… didn’t say I didn’t want to play,” Donghyuck says shortly. He stands, to make his point clearer, but he's surprised to find that he's at least an inch or two taller than the older man. He coughs and continues. “I just thought I would ruin your game, since you’d all lose to me so fast.”

“I see,” Ten says. He almost cracks a smile. “So you do want to play?”

“I do want to play.”

Chapter Text

“ Now it’s starting to feel like a proper Family Game Night,” Johnny says, and there’s a wickedly pleased grin that’s starting to spread across his face. 

And it is… sort of. The pizzas have arrived and one box has already been demolished in the space of about sixty seconds, and deciding which Monopoly piece is whose has turned into a heated debate. Taeyong’s starting to think things would have been less of a competition if certain people weren’t involved, because now his boyfriend and his brother are busy arguing over who gets to be the car.

“Yongie, can you please tell your brother that he can’t be the car?” says Johnny, holding the little metal car within his grasp. “I literally work for Hyundai.”

“Hyuck, choose something else,” Taeyong tells him, which makes Donghyuck pout in annoyance. “You haven’t even got your licence yet.”

Donghyuck sighs loudly. “Fine, I’ll be the boat then.”

“It’s a battleship,” Ten points out. He’s trying to be helpful and informative, but all he gets for his efforts is a withering glare from Donghyuck.

“What are you then?” Donghyuck asks, in such a way that Ten feels as if the question is some sort of personal attack.

He places down his silver piece on the PASS GO square on the board. “I’m the wheelbarrow.”

“Why would you choose the wheelbarrow ?” Donghyuck scoffs. “That’s so lame.” 

You’re lame , his brain tells him, because why the heck is he being so rude to arguably the most attractive guy in the room? (He also can’t figure out why his brain is so insistent on thinking that Ten is attractive. Especially seeing as Ten is a guy .)

“Because I’m always the wheelbarrow,” Ten says matter-of-factly, fixing Donghyuck with that same withering look in response (except this is more like teasing). “And because I really like plants.”

“Right, whatever,” Taeyong cuts in, eager to get started (because the sooner it starts, the sooner it ends), “I’ll be the dog.”

Johnny smirks and leans in, lowering his voice just enough for everyone to still hear what he says. “Because you’re my bitch?”

Taeyong’s mouth falls open, and he tries to hide the smile that immediately springs up onto his lips. He can’t quite hide the persistent blush that colours his cheeks, though, so he pushes Johnny away. “Shut up and get me another slice of pizza,” he says, kicking Johnny's foot for good measure.

Johnny smirks, but obediently feeds his boyfriend another slice of Hawaiian.

Soon enough, the game is underway and Donghyuck is snatching up properties left, right and centre. He has to fight Johnny for the expensive ones near PASS GO which bring in the most rent, and the competition quickly grows fierce. Ten picks up a whole line of the cheapest properties, which seems like a ‘slow and steady wins the race’ sort of approach to the game, whilst Taeyong eats as much pizza as he can physically manage. Johnny’s already on his third can of beer before all the properties have been bought, and this only adds fuel to the fire. (Taeyong’s only had less than half a can, but Donghyuck’s pretty sure he’s already a little drunk.)

“Hyung, pass me a beer,” Donghyuck says, as casually as possible to see if he can get away with it. He’s technically passed the legal age to drink in Korea, but whether Taeyong will simply hand alcohol over to him is another— 

“Mm.” 

That was… unexpectedly easy.

Taeyong holds out a can with a lazy wrist, waiting for Donghyuck to take it. He’s already leaning against Johnny’s arm, having lost complete interest in the competition.

Donghyuck grins and takes the beer in both hands. The aluminium is still cool from the refrigerator, even though it’s been over an hour since Johnny took them out. Donghyuck wedges his thumb under the tab, attempting to open the can, but for some reason the tab won't budge.

“Here,” Ten says, hand outstretched expectantly. Donghyuck passes the beer can over, mouth slightly agape, and watches as Ten pops the tab and grabs a straw from the coffee table for him. He hands it back without even batting an eye.

Donghyuck stares at him, and then eventually takes a sip. “Thanks,” he mutters.

Ten just kind of shrugs, like it's not even a big deal or anything. Donghyuck continues to sip beer through his straw while sneaking occasional glances at the older man.

"Donghyuck-ah, it's your turn!" Johnny says in a sing-song tone. He pushes the dice across the board and waits in anticipation.

Donghyuck rolls.

"And it's a… five!" Johnny exclaims in delight. He moves Donghyuck's battleship aggressively onwards five spaces. "One, two, three, four, five. That'll be $1500 please."

"What?" Donghyuck practically spits out his beer to stare at his new position on the board.

"You're on Park Lane," Johnny says, waving the property card in his face. "Pay up."

Donghyuck groans when he sees the number of houses and hotels on Johnny’s property. He groans even harder when he looks down at the dwindling pile of Monopoly money in front of him. “That’s not fair!” he complains. 

“I play by the rules, kid.”

“But I’ll go bankrupt!”

Taeyong sighs from where he’s currently almost lying in Johnny’s lap. “You can just have all my money, Hyuckie,” he mumbles. Donghyuck is ready to take him up on that offer, but Johnny interjects before he even gets the chance.

“What?” Johnny looks down at his boyfriend, aghast. “Baby, that’s not how the game works...”

“Mm,” Taeyong says, “but we’ve been here for three hours already.” He yawns and shuffles down on the sofa so he's all curled up in Johnny's lap, and the action in itself is so cute that Johnny almost loses all of his resolve to play Monopoly properly . It's weird, but Taeyong almost acts like a cat when he's tired or drunk… or both.

"Maybe we should just end the game and count up the money," Ten suggests. He's doing his best to help the situation, even though he knows by now that Johnny prefers to win by destroying every other competitor. Now, Ten likes Monopoly, but not that much.

Donghyuck's gaze shifts so that he's staring at Ten again, while trying to look like he's not staring at Ten (again). It's a stupid thing to think, but there's something… magical about the guy. He's so annoyingly normal, and kind of boring. Yet, somewhere buried in all of that, he is kind of cool. Even if he does like gardening… and bingo. (Donghyuck can't bring himself to comprehend how anyone can enjoy bingo.) There's just something mysterious about him, like the boring, normal exterior is just a front for a deeply complex person. Donghyuck wonders what secrets Ten could be hiding, and what other tattoos could be hiding elsewhere unseen.

"Fine," Johnny grumbles eventually, because Taeyong's arms are latched around his waist, face pressed against his chest, and it's so unbearably cute that he can't say no to him. "Let's just count up the money, then."

"Alright," Ten says with some level of enthusiasm in his voice. He abruptly puts down his glass of water to count up his Monopoly money. It's not as if he comes here to win, or that he even really cares too much about the game, but it would be a nice end to the night.

"You still owe me $1500 in rent," Johnny reminds Donghyuck, holding out his hand expectantly until the paper is slapped into it.

When all the money has been counted and verified… Johnny wins anyway.

"Yes!"

And Donghyuck loses.

"...fucking brilliant."

Ten comes in second, because slow and steady really does win the race - unless you're racing against Johnny From Chicago, who is a little too competitive for his own good. Taeyong comes third, but hands over all his money to Donghyuck to stop him whining.

In the end, Donghyuck walks out of the game in third place. Taeyong doesn't really care about coming last (or breaking the rules by giving his little brother all his money). He's actually too drunk to care at this point.

"This is how you play a real game of Monopoly, people," Johnny says. He goes to stand, but can't since Taeyong is still lying in his lap. So he raises his arms in a speech-like manner instead. "Winning a game like this is like having some shit like Harvard on your resumé."

Ten squints his eyes at the American, unconvinced.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Donghyuck says. He pushes the board lazily off the coffee table so all the pieces go flying across the floorboards. "You would never beat me at League of Legends."

Johnny scoffs. "Watch me."

"Baby, you've never even played League of Legends," Taeyong murmurs.

"Hey, shh," Johnny says. He strokes Taeyong's honey-coloured hair and pushes it off his face. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"Why don't we play something different next week?" is Ten's next suggestion.

Johnny blinks at him. He's also a little bit tipsy by now, but he's pretty sure Ten just said— 

"Something… different?"

Donghyuck leans back into the beanbag he's sitting on and raises an eyebrow in Ten's direction. "Like what?"

"Like…I don't know," Ten says. He looks around the room for inspiration, and his eyes land on the TV that's planted in the corner, and the Nintendo Switch sitting pride of place right next to it. "I could bring my Wii."

" You have a Wii ?" Donghyuck asks, taken by surprise. He almost wants to laugh in Ten's gorgeous face.

"Mm-hm." Ten nods. "It's the old one, but we could play Mario Kart. Or, hey, Taeyong, we could play Wii Sports again!”

"Oh my god, the tennis," Taeyong giggles.

Donghyuck snorts.

"But Monopoly is a tradition now," Johnny whines. "We've played it for a whole three weeks in a row already…"

"And before that, we played Scrabble for two months straight," Ten points out. He starts mindlessly picking up all the Monopoly notes off the floor. "Why not change it up a little?"

"But Wii Sports is a video game ."

"You can hardly call it that," Donghyuck says, rolling his eyes skywards.

"I want to play tennis," Taeyong mumbles sleepily, pawing at Johnny's chest while his eyelids droop.

Again, Johnny has a really hard time saying no to Taeyong, so he begrudgingly backs down. "Alright," he says (rather flatly), "you can bring your dumb Wii next week, Ten."

It may not be the exact image of Johnny's childhood - where board games and only board games should be played - but he's willing to overlook that fact. Game Night is slowly heading in the direction of Family Game Night, and if a dumb video game like Wii Sports or Mario Kart will keep Donghyuck interested, Johnny will give it a try. (He may not have played Mario Kart in a few years, but he's still going to beat everyone else. Again.)

"Great!” Ten says, and he says it with this small smile that makes Donghyuck's heart do a weird somersault thing in his chest. "Well, I should probably get going. Enjoy the wine."

He pulls his jumper back over his head, messing up that dark hair that pools across his forehead, and puts the pile of Monopoly back on the coffee table. (Donghyuck almost feels bad for tipping the board on the floor in the first place.) The three of them watch as Ten grabs his jacket from the hallway and puts it on, ready to leave. (Well, it's actually just Donghyuck watching, because Taeyong is practically asleep, and Johnny is much more interested in watching Taeyong sleep.)

Just when they are all convinced that Taeyong is truly asleep, he says, "Hyuckie, don't you have an early lecture tomorrow?"

Donghyuck frowns. "How would you know? It's almost like you have my schedule memorised— oh, shit, you probably do."

"Mm."

"I can drive you back to the dorms," Johnny suddenly offers. It's a nice gesture on the surface, but really he's just eager to get Donghyuck out of the apartment.

"No… I will," Taeyong argues, starting to sit up and rub his eyes. "You don't know which building he's in."

"But you can't drive, baby. You're drunk."

"So are you."

"But I literally work for Hyundai…"

Ten, who's still standing near the front door with his hands in the pocket of his short wool jacket, interrupts them both. "I could drop Donghyuck off on my way home," he suggests, like it's a No Big Deal kind of suggestion, like it's not the kind of sentence to make Donghyuck stop breathing for a second.

(Spoiler - it does. And it is A Big Deal.)

Johnny and Taeyong stare at Ten like he's crazy. There's a long silence where everyone seems to weigh up their options, and Donghyuck tries to decide whether getting in Ten's car would be a good idea or not. He decides he must be slightly drunk, because it sounds like a fucking great idea at the moment, even though it makes his heart want to stop beating.

After what seems like a long time (but is really only a moment or two), Taeyong says, "Hyuckie's dorm isn't even on your way home." 

(At least, that's what it sounds like. No one can really tell for sure, because Taeyong is mumbling his words in a cute sort of baby voice, and it's hard to make anything out.)

“I can just wake up early and walk in,” Donghyuck tries in a weak attempt at an objection.

"It isn't much of a detour," Ten reasons, if only to make Donghyuck feel more assured and less burdened. "Anyway, I'm the only sober one here, so logically I should drive."

"You aren't sober ," Johnny laughs. It's the stupidest laugh Donghyuck has ever heard come out of the guy's mouth.

"I am," Ten insists, rolling his eyes. "You guys are just too drunk to notice."

"Tennie, stop lying ," Taeyong giggles. He rolls over on the couch and stretches out his limbs before curling up again.

"I'm driving!" Johnny says loudly, before dissolving into a fit of giggles with Taeyong.

"Okay, I'm leaving ," Donghyuck blurts quickly. He scrambles to his feet, grabbing his phone and his backpack from the hallway. It's time to evacuate the apartment as fast as he can.

"Got everything?" Ten asks as he watches Donghyuck shove his feet into a pair of Nikes. The car keys jingle in his hand.

"Yep," Donghyuck says. He shakes his head fervently and looks towards the front door. "Can we go now?"

Ten studies him, observing the shift in attitude from earlier, until he hears Johnny and Taeyong start laughing all over again. "Sure," he says to Donghyuck, before sticking his head round the corner. "Text me in the morning, Yong," he adds. "I can bring you hangover soup before work."

Taeyong shuffles round so he can look at him with big round eyes. "But I'm not drunk!" he says in dismay. "So I won't be hungover…"

"Yeah, yeah." Ten smiles and heads out, letting the front door shut quietly behind him. He follows Donghyuck to the elevator and they take it down to the ground floor without much talking. It's only when they're out in the open air, heading towards Ten's car, that Donghyuck finally speaks up.

"You drive a Tesla ?" he questions, and it's almost like an accusation with the way his jaw drops. 

"It's a company car," Ten answers bashfully, getting out his keys. "It's not like I own it outright."

"But still," Donghyuck emphasises. "It's a fucking Tesla ." He suddenly feels extremely poor standing next to Ten and the sleek black automobile.

Ten fights the urge to laugh, caught halfway between amusement and embarrassment as he holds the door open for Donghyuck. "Just get in," he says. "It's getting late."

Donghyuck skips around to the passenger seat, still in awe of the impressive vehicle. "Oh, is this late for you, Grandpa?" he asks, feigning innocence as he opens the car door. "It's only just gone eleven."

Ten slides into the driver's seat, and they both close their doors almost in sync. "Some of us have to work in the morning."

"Sounds better than going to class," Donghyuck snorts. 

He thinks about putting his feet up on the dashboard, but the car is expensive and he doesn't want to risk pissing Ten off properly yet. (If he didn't already manage to piss him off earlier.)

Ten turns his headlights on and pulls out of the apartment complex parking lot onto the main road. "You won't be saying that when you're practically working a zero hours contract," is his advice, which pretty much goes over Donghyuck's head.

"You drive a Tesla," Donghyuck reminds him, as if that explains everything.

"And I have to be pretty much always on call if I want to get paid," Ten says. “Going corporate kinda kills your dreams.”

"At least you get paid."

They drive along in silence through the flashing lights of the busy Seoul streets, and even though the sky is dark, it almost still feels like daytime. The lights of other cars are kind of messing with Donghyuck's eyes though, but maybe that's because of the ambiguous number of beers he drank earlier. He glances over at Ten, who kind of looks something like a drama actor sitting at the wheel of a Tesla. The light of the passing billboards outside his window cast his face in shadow until they reach a crossing and a set of traffic lights and he pulls to a stop.

"Lee Donghyuck," Ten says suddenly, with an element of panic in his voice. 

"What?" Donghyuck returns, feeling marginally attacked by the older man's tone.

"Seatbelt," Ten tells him firmly.

"But—"

" Now , please."

The lights change and the other cars begin to move, but the black Tesla stays put. Ten raises an eyebrow at Donghyuck, waiting expectantly. The two of them are bathed in green from the traffic light, caught in a moment that just won’t end. 

"But I don't need it," Donghyuck reasons, glancing anxiously at the cars in the rearview mirror.

"It's the law."

Donghyuck lets out a loud huff. "It won't even make a difference, because you're not going to crash."

"I'm not moving until you do your seatbelt up," Ten says simply. It's obvious that he and Donghyuck share a common personality trait — their stubbornness.

"Hyung, the cars—"

Ten just continues to wait. The cars behind them beep their horns loudly, and gradually more and more begin to lose patience. "One," Ten starts to count, "two… three—"

"You're not my dad!" Donghyuck almost yells at him, before his voice drops to an angry mutter. "So stop fucking acting like it." He jams the seatbelt into place and glowers at the road ahead as Ten steps on the gas and speeds away. 

They're left in another neverending silence after that. Ten wonders if he overstepped a line, seeing as it's only their first time meeting. They are practically strangers, after all, even with everything he's heard about Donghyuck from Taeyong. 

Donghyuck sighs.

"Look," says Ten, somewhat tersely, "I'm sorry about what happened back there."

"Why are you apologising?" Donghyuck blurts out aggressively. "It was my fault anyway."

"Maybe, but I shouldn't have acted like that when we barely know each other," Ten answers. He sneaks a brief glance at Donghyuck before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "It wasn't my place to tell you to do anything."

"But it was for my own safety," Donghyuck argues. He knows he's agreeing with Ten's original point, but it still feels like arguing to him.

"Obviously."

"Hey!" 

Ten finally smiles, and most of the tension in the air seems to dissipate. "I'm glad we're really on the same page," he says. "Game Night was actually a little more fun tonight."

"Really?" Donghyuck raises his eyebrows at him, unconvinced. "But it was literally just me and Johnny-hyung arguing for four hours."

"It was more entertaining than watching Johnny argue with himself."

"He does that?"

" Oh yeah ."

The silence turns into a kind of comfortable quiet instead as they pull into Donghyuck's university site. Relieved, Donghyuck starts to think maybe Ten doesn't hate him after all. Ten starts to think the same way about him. 

"Which building are you?" Ten asks, and his voice seems louder than the engine as they move through the campus, barely making a sound. (Donghyuck makes a mental note that someday he would like to own a Tesla outright, if owning a Tesla isn't completely lame by the time he can afford one.)

"Second on the right." Donghyuck points to the towering accommodation blocks ahead of them, with some of their windows still glowing like stars against the navy sky.

They stop outside the entrance of Donghyuck's building, dodging the drunk students wandering back to their accommodation after a night out cut short. Ten keeps the engine running, but there's an awkward pause like he wants to say something. Donghyuck bites his lip. The atmosphere in the car is weirdly tense now, like the night isn't quite over but it should be. He grabs his backpack from the floor and opens the car door, swinging a leg out onto the pavement.

"Hey, Donghyuck—"

"Thanks for the ride," Donghyuck blurts. He forces a tiny smile in the driver's direction and legs it out of the car. 

Ten reaches out to pull the door shut, but Donghyuck slams it and runs up the steps to his building. Ten watches him go, words dying on his lips. "See you next week," he mutters. 

Donghyuck doesn't dare to even glance back at the black Tesla on his way into the building. He hurries inside and takes the elevator up to the fourth floor, forgetting that it's nearly midnight when he opens his dorm room door with a clatter. There’s a disgruntled sound of annoyance from somewhere in the dark. Donghyuck sighs as he fumbles for the light switch. It would be useless to try and be quiet now, because there’s no way he can possibly avoid the round of complaints that— 

“Seriously,” his roommate groans. He’s just a lump under the duvet on the other side of the room, and this is just the start. His name is Liu Yangyang, and he’s one of Donghyuck’s least favourite people, although that puts him on quite a long list. 

“Well,” Donghyuck inhales, “you’re awake now, so—”

“And I was asleep twenty seconds ago, so thanks,” Yangyang snaps back, emerging from under the blankets. He blinks in the sudden flood of light, scrunching up his face before glaring in Donghyuck’s direction. “You said you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”

He says it like an accusation, and Donghyuck feels attacked. “Yeah, well maybe I changed my mind,” he says defensively. “It’s not like it’s even late.”

Yangyang’s glow-in-the-dark alarm clock says differently. (It’s expensive, apparently, and his parents bought it for him the last time he was in Düsseldorf . The fact that he’s rich - and brags about it - makes Donghyuck hate him all the more. Well, that’s on top of the fact that the guy is outgoing, attractive and funny, speaks four different languages, plays soccer, is his academic superior in every way, and has girls hanging off his every word.)

“You know I have soccer practise on Thursdays,” Yangyang says. His tone is pretty bitter, and Donghyuck would feel bad for waking him up if he wasn’t such a prick.

“How sad for you,” Donghyuck mutters. He dumps his backpack at the end of his bed, kicks off his battered Nikes, and sinks into the mattress in a huff. 

Yangyang rolls onto his side and narrows his eyes at the boy sulking on the other side of the room. Donghyuck’s refusing to look at him. “Can you at least turn the light off?” he complains. “I have to wake up at five AM.”

“Like anyone fucking cares.” But the light goes off and Donghyuck curls up in bed, facing the wall.

“Geez,” Yangyang says under his breath, his voice muffled into the pillow as he tries to fall asleep again. “This is why you don’t have any friends.”

Chapter Text

They order fried chicken instead of pizza the next time the four of them convene at Johnny and Taeyong’s place. It’s another Wednesday Family Game Night, except it’s not exactly family this time either, since Ten shows up again in his Tesla, straight from work this time, and the only person from Taeyong’s actual family that rocks up is Donghyuck. But Johnny’s working on it - the whole being accepted into Taeyong’s family thing. Kind of. Last week, he drove past Taeyong’s parents’ place with a cake, but chickened out and drove off before he could even approach the house. It’s a work in progress at best.

“Babe, why don’t you let Ten sort it?” Taeyong asks. He’s sitting on the couch waiting for his boyfriend to give up already, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. 

Johnny’s on the floor by the TV, fiddling around with wires to try and set things up in order for Game Night to actually start. “I can make it work!” he insists, a little out of breath. “Why would Ten be better at it than me?”

“...Because it’s Ten's Wii?”

Both Ten and Donghyuck are standing over the American, also waiting for him to give up. Donghyuck is eating pieces of fried chicken like they’re on a conveyor belt into his mouth, while Ten is checking his messages to make sure his manager doesn’t want him for anything. Johnny is extremely determined to set up the Wii himself, because admitting defeat now would be embarrassing. (He doesn’t quite realise that admitting defeat much later would be more than embarrassing - it would be verging on humiliating.)

“Hyung, just give up,” Donghyuck says around a large piece of chicken, almost spitting it out in the process. Ten mindlessly hands him a tissue.

Johnny sits back on his heels, pouting. “Fine,” he says. “But I’m not giving up. I’m just letting Ten have a go.” 

Taeyong rolls his eyes and beckons him over. “Just come here,” he says fondly, wrapping Johnny in a hug of sympathy the moment he reaches the couch.

Ten sets the Wii up in one minute and forty-eight seconds. (Not that Donghyuck was counting.) 

“Yay!” Taeyong exclaims. He jumps to his feet the moment Ten finishes showing off his physical prowess (if setting up a Wii console even counts as ‘physical prowess’) and leaves Johnny behind on the sofa to hug his best friend from behind. “Now we can play tennis!”

“No one wants to play Wii Sports, hyung,” Donghyuck mutters, looking over at the two of them with narrowed eyes. 

“Yeah, hyung ,” says Johnny, looking rather betrayed. “I mean… yeah … baby,” he corrects himself. He stays sulking on the couch, watching Ten and Taeyong celebrate like two giddy little middle schoolers.

Ten laughs and pries off Taeyong’s hands, which have latched themselves around his waist. “We can play tennis later, right?” he says. “How about Mario Kart first?”

Donghyuck sighs loudly after swallowing the last of his chicken. He wipes his greasy fingers on his sweatpants and grabs one of the Wii remotes. “Still lame,” he says, “but I guess I’ll have to beat you guys quickly and get it over with.”

“I’m pretty sure you said that last week ,” Johnny says in a sing-song tone. He clambers off the sofa to physically separate Ten and Taeyong, and grab a Wii remote in the process. 

Donghyuck rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he might strain them.

After much deliberation, they all finally decide on which characters they want to play as, and which combinations of wheels and parachutes make the best car. This, of course, triggers an entire debate over car brands, in which Johnny becomes the PR manager for Hyundai, and everyone else has to listen to him whine. Taeyong plays as Baby Peach, Ten as Mario, Donghyuck as Toad, and Johnny as Donkey Kong. 

“Why would you play as Mario?” Donghyuck accuses.

To Ten, it sounds vaguely like the wheelbarrow question from last week. “Because it’s literally called Mario Kart?”

“Yeah, but no one actually plays as Mario.”

Taeyong sighs. “Hyuckie, you can’t say much. You’re playing as Toad.”

“And you’re playing as Baby Peach,” Donghyuck retorts.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Johnny says impatiently. “We already know I’m the only one who chose a cool character. Can we start?”

And then the real competition begins.

Or at least, the competition between Donghyuck and Johnny begins, because it’s a team race with four rounds — Donghyuck on the blue team with Ten, and Johnny and Taeyong on red. 

“We are going to destroy you,” Johnny says as they’re all waiting at the starting line. He’s perched on the edge of the sofa, eyes fixed on the screen. It doesn’t take much for his competitive streak to show.

Donghyuck scoffs with an air of arrogance. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, we are!” Johnny insists. His eyes dart towards Donghyuck, but he doesn’t have enough time to glare at him before the race starts. 

“Not when you have Taeyong-hyung on your team,” Donghyuck says smugly, before speeding ahead of Johnny on the racetrack. He doesn’t even have that much confidence in Ten's Mario Kart skills — he just knows what kind of games Taeyong likes to play. Racing games don’t really make the list. 

“Hyuckie, that is so unfair!” Taeyong exclaims. He bites his lip and tries to concentrate on the game, but too many of the NPCs are shoving him aside and attacking him with shells. “Why did I just drive off the edge?” he says in soft disappointment.

“Because your car has shit handling?” Donghyuck suggests.

Johnny reaches out a leg to kick Donghyuck in the ribs from where he’s sitting. He isn’t exactly looking where to aim though, so his foot comes extremely close to hitting a rather more sensitive area. (It’s lucky it doesn’t though, because Angry Donghyuck combined with Donghyuck In Pain would probably result in a bloodbath.) “Maybe because someone chose Wario’s Gold Mine?” Johnny says as an alternative suggestion, in his best attempt to comfort Taeyong.

“It’s a good track!” Donghyuck insists. “It’s not my fault you guys can’t drive. Back me up on this, hyung.” He nudges Ten's arm for some kind of backup, but Ten is too busy concentrating on driving safely to answer. The two of them are sitting side by side on the beanbags in front of the couch, with the opposing team sitting behind them.

In the end, Donghyuck comes first. Johnny, begrudgingly, comes in second, Ten fourth, and Taeyong eleventh. 

“I didn’t come last!” Taeyong smiles, somewhat satisfied with the outcome.

“You did good, baby,” Johnny says, but he’s eager to try and beat Donghyuck again. “Alright, next race.”

“Oh, so we’re not gonna talk about the fact that I won?” Donghyuck tilts his head back to shoot Johnny a smug look of victory.

Johnny snorts. “You haven’t won yet, kid,” he says. “It's best of four.”

The competition goes on, with a rather eventful Rainbow Road experience which has Taeyong screaming, until the results are ready. Out of the four races, Donghyuck wins the first, Johnny wins the second and third, and surprisingly — Ten  wins the last.

“I can’t believe you actually won,” Donghyuck remarks.

Ten laughs and elbows him gently. “Hey, have a little confidence in me, please! Your brother and I used to play a lot of Mario Kart in college. It just took me a while to get warmed up.”

“Yeah, three whole races apparently,” Donghyuck replies, laughing alongside his teammate. It feels… natural somehow, the way they can just laugh together about almost nothing. Donghyuck suddenly notices the warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest and he stops laughing. 

“What?!” Johnny screeches as the results appear on the screen. He jumps to his feet in protest.

The blue team won. 

“Ah, the sweet smell of victory,” Donghyuck says. He brushes off the weird feeling he gets around Ten, ignoring it in order to celebrate properly.

“But I won two races!” Johnny objects. He looks physically heartbroken. 

“You can’t win everything, Johnny,” Ten tries his best to reason out. 

“But the red team always wins,” Johnny says, sitting down slowly again. “I’m always on the red team, and we always win.”

“Better luck next time, hyung.” Donghyuck stretches out his arms and sighs contentedly. “That’s what you get for picking Taeyong-hyung to be on your team.”

Johnny opens his mouth to agree with him, but looks over at his boyfriend and instantly feels terrible. He then begins to try and defend Taeyong’s Mario Kart skills, but it doesn’t really do much. “No, baby, you’re not bad ,” he says quickly, flinging an arm over Taeyong’s shoulders. “I wanted to be on your team! You were… um… a really cute Baby Peach, and I… yeah, so, um…”

“Whatever, no one cares that I suck at Mario Kart,” Taeyong whines, folding his arms across his chest. “So can we play tennis now or what?”

And though nobody else really wants to play tennis, Johnny death-glares the other two into cooperation in an attempt to make Taeyong happy, and the Wii Sports disc goes in. They keep the same teams and play their way through several rounds of doubles — in which Taeyong somehow manages to win almost every game. It’s like his college tennis skills have been reawakened, from when he and Ten used to play on the Wii in their dorm. Once several hours have passed and all the fried chicken has been demolished, Donghyuck and Johnny decide to compete again with a game of baseball whilst Ten helps Taeyong clean up. 

“I’ll bat first,” Donghyuck says quickly.

The two of them stand in the small space between the TV and the couch, and get ready to start. Donghyuck swings a couple of good shots, and then enough home runs that Johnny starts getting anxious. By the time it’s his turn to bat, Johnny’s a bundle of competitive energy, warming up on the spot like it’s an actual game and not just a simulation. 

Donghyuck bowls. Johnny swings.

He misses.

“Fucking stupid game.”

Donghyuck hides the loudest scoff ever and bowls again. This time, Johnny swings his arm back with so much vigor that he’s certain he’ll hit the baseball at the right time.

Except he isn’t wearing the Wii remote safety strap.

“Ow! Fucking shit!”

When Johnny turns around, his Wii remote has been flung out of his hand… and into Donghyuck’s nose — which is already bleeding rapidly through his fingers. Johnny can’t do anything in the moment but gape.

At the sound of his younger brother screaming, Taeyong comes back from the kitchen, as if summoned by the sound of pain. “What’s going on now—? OH MY GOD, HYUCK—” 

Chaos ensues.

For what feels like an eon to Donghyuck (but is really probably only a minute or two), Johnny stands there not knowing what to do while Taeyong runs around multi-tasking — scrambling to find something to mop up Donghyuck's bleeding nose, and yelling at Johnny for answers at the same time. Ten is the only ounce of sanity in the apartment, with his calm voice telling Donghyuck not to panic.

(Not that he is panicking, or anything. But when your brother's boyfriend flings a Wii remote into your face, the shock itself is enough to make anyone angry.)

“Why would you throw it in my fucking face?!” he yells at Johnny, ready to square up and hit him back.

“I didn't mean to!” Johnny defends himself, looking both extremely guilty and stunned at the same time. “It just fell out of my hand!”

Feeling the blood pouring out of his nose, Donghyuck lets out a noise of complaint and looks to the ceiling. He flings a few more curses and expletives in Johnny's direction.

“Don't look up, look down,” Ten advises. He places a warm hand on the back of Donghyuck's neck to encourage him to follow the first aid instructions, and his other hand closes around Donghyuck's — to help stop the blood from dripping onto the floorboards. “Or the blood will go down your throat instead of out your nose,” he adds.

“That's fucking disgusting, hyung,” Donghyuck mumbles, but there's something about how close Ten is, or the constant steadiness of his presence that makes the anger dissipate for a moment.

“I know,” Ten says gently. “Just breathe, okay?”

Something twists in Donghyuck's chest, and he's pretty sure it isn't nosebleed related. Even through the onslaught of blood dripping from his nose, he can almost smell the warm musk of Ten's perfume.

Taeyong returns with a mountain of toilet roll and passes it to Donghyuck to hold against his nose. “What exactly happened here?” he demands.

“I didn't mean—”

“He threw it in my face!”

Taeyong sighs. He looks at Johnny with a pair of very big, very serious eyes. “You didn't wear the wrist strap, did you,” he says gravely.

Johnny opens his mouth to respond with a half-hearted lie, but there's something about late-night, tired Taeyong with his messy hair and big eyes that draws out the truth. “No,” he admits quietly.

Taeyong inhales, still trying to help Donghyuck whilst not losing his temper. “They have safety rules for a reason, Johnny!” he says. “I thought it was just to protect your TV, but apparently it's also to protect your little brother's nose.”

"It was an accident!" Johnny protests. The baseball game is still playing in the background, and the music isn't exactly making the situation any better.

"Which is why they have the safety strap in the first place!" Taeyong says, exasperated. In some ways, Johnny and Donghyuck are too similar - both stubborn and competitive, and rarely known to apologise. And as hard as Taeyong tries, he can’t think of a realistic solution to this argument.

“It’s not my fault—”

“It’s always your fault!” Donghyuck interjects. He’s becoming increasingly sour the more he begins to register the pain in his nose. “How can it be anyone else’s fault when you’re the one who broke my fucking nose?”

Johnny tries to keep calm. It doesn’t entirely work. “Now you’re being overdramatic,” he says, in a way that’s a little too condescending to the ear.

“Oh, I’m being overdramatic?” Donghyuck scoffs. “I’m not the one who has to win everything all the time.”

“I don’t—”

“You always have to have everything your way ,” Donghyuck taunts.

“Don’t fucking speak to me like that—”

It’s the final straw for Donghyuck. His nose is throbbing and it might be broken and all he can do is take out his rage on this gigantic American idiot. “You ever maybe stop and think,” he starts, his voice rapidly increasing in volume, “that this is why nobody in our family likes you!?”

Silence.

And then chaos.

“Right, I'll give you more than just a nosebleed—” Johnny squares up for a fight, with nothing but the alcohol and Donghyuck's annoying voice egging him on.

“Alright that's enough,” Taeyong says sharply. “Johnny, go in the freezer and find something… well, something frozen.”

Johnny's eyes dart between his potential opponent and his pleading boyfriend and he eventually backs down. “Fine,” he says, and slinks off into the kitchen.

The apartment is quiet again. Ten's hand is still warm on the back of Donghyuck's neck so his attention is instantly drawn to that instead of Johnny's dramatic exit. Butterflies swarm in his chest and his stomach churns, and he isn't sure whether it's the loss of blood or the smell of Ten's cologne that's making him feel faint. He hasn't felt like this before about anyone, and part of him wants to blame the sudden burst of symptoms solely on the nosebleed.

“Hey, sit down,” Ten murmurs, guiding Donghyuck slowly to sit on the couch behind them. It's only now that Donghyuck realises how weak his knees feel.

Why does he keep feeling this way around Ten? It's like he can barely breathe. And Ten, of all people — his older brother's kind of lame best friend, who works in a bank. Ten , who likes Friday bingo, and gardening, and consistency.

Worse than that, though — Ten is most definitely a guy .

Donghyuck feels a tiny bit queasy.

“I'm sure it's not serious,” Ten says, and for a second Donghyuck panics (is his apparent crush on Ten really not serious?) but then realises Ten obviously can't read his mind. “I doubt your nose is broken, but I can take you to the hospital if it might be.”

Now he's absent-mindedly playing with the overgrown hair at Donghyuck's nape, and it's making Donghyuck's stomach perform an entire acrobatic routine. Donghyuck's mind takes him through a whole series of thoughts about wanting to rake his fingers through Ten's dark hair and plant kisses on his temples and shit — is this what a gay panic feels like? Because Donghyuck is in Full Panic Mode.

(Even in the middle of a torrential nosebleed.)

Taeyong sighs and stares at the mass of toilet paper he still has in his hands. “I hope it isn't broken,” he says. “Here,” he adds, dumping the rest of the toilet paper in Ten's lap and turning to make a beeline for the kitchen.

When he gets there, Johnny is sitting in front of the freezer with a look of confusion on his face.

“Did you find anything?” Taeyong asks.

Johnny holds up a packet of frozen meat and shrugs.

“Not pork ,” Taeyong groans. He gets down on his knees to rummage through the freezer himself. “I meant… I don't know… like frozen vegetables or something.”

“...But we've already eaten.”

That's when Taeyong laughs. “For Hyuck's nose, you idiot,” he says, but he meets Johnny's frown with a fond smile. 

“ Ohhh… right.”

Taeyong pulls out a bag of frozen peas from the very bottom of the freezer and turns the packet over to try and find the expiry date. “Jesus,” he says in disbelief. “You'll never guess what the use-by date is on these.”

Johnny shoots him a quizzical look.

“2015.”

“Wait, what?” Johnny lets out a sudden burst of laughter. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says, shaking his head. “They must be from my old freezer, before we even moved in together.”

Johnny smiles. “Guess we both just hate peas.”

Chapter Text

The next week, Donghyuck doesn’t show for ‘Family’ Game Night. He sends Taeyong a text to say he’s not coming, and stays holed up in his dorm for the rest of his Wednesday evening. It’s mostly because his nose has been a little bruised all week and as much as he feels like complaining about it all over again to everyone, he still hasn't spoken to Johnny after their ‘fight’. However, an additional reason is also that Donghyuck is terrified of the way Ten makes his heart race, and he honestly can’t face seeing him again so soon.

“Why are you still here?” Yangyang closes the door and stares at him, eyes slightly unfocused. “I thought you always go out on a Wednesday these days.”

“Shut up.”

Yangyang scoffs. “I’m not even trying to pick a fight here,” he says. He throws an empty can in the bin and stalks over to his side of the room,  flopping down on his bed. He folds his arms behind his head and looks up at the ceiling. 

“Didn’t feel like it,” Donghyuck says.

“Fair enough.”

Donghyuck bites his lip and moves to sit at his desk, with his back to his roommate (aka arch enemy) so he doesn’t have to look at him. It’s nice, in a way, that Yangyang doesn’t ever require an explanation. It’s mostly because he doesn’t care, but it’s nice all the same.

“Can I tell you something really bad?” Yangyang speaks up.

They literally never have conversations, so Donghyuck narrows his eyes. “No.”

Yangyang rolls over and sighs, and tells him anyway. “I think I have a crush on your brother’s girlfriend.”

Donghyuck leans back in his chair. His mouth falls open, but the surprise is mostly to do with the fact that Yangyang is even talking to him in the first place. “My brother doesn’t have a girlfriend—” he starts. Then he realises exactly who Yangyang’s talking about. “ Oh , that brother.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it.”

Well, yes — but only because Jeno and Yangyang are teammates on the university soccer team, and they’re supposed to be pretty good friends. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense that Donghyuck’s twin is better friends with his own roommate, but he and Yangyang didn’t really get on from the start. But Donghyuck doesn’t say that. Instead, he says:

“Have you been drinking?” 

When he turns around, Yangyang is spread out across his bed like a starfish, wearing an expression of drowsy heartbreak. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad do you think it is?” he asks, bracing himself for the answer.

Uh…

“God, it’s a ten, isn’t it,” Yangyang inhales, his voice filled with horror. “I just know you’re gonna say ten. I can see it in… in your eyes, you know? Oh fuck... it’s bad— it’s so bad, I—”

“Six,” Donghyuck interrupts (mainly because he can’t stand listening to Drunk Yangyang whine about his problems any longer).

Yangyang shuts his mouth, eyes wide. “Six?”

Donghyuck scratches the back of his ear and shrugs. “It’s like a six, I guess,” he says. “Depends how much you like her.”

Yangyang groans. “I like her,” he emphasises gloomily. “ Fuck .”

"Right," Donghyuck amends carefully. "Better make it an eight, then."

It's weird. He's not supposed to feel sorry for Yangyang, like ever . Yangyang is supposed to be the horrible, stuck-up antagonist in the game that is Donghyuck's life, and he's not supposed to have issues of his own. Since they moved into the same dorm together, Donghyuck has always assumed that the extent of Yangyang's problems would probably be that his parents can't take him on holiday to the Caribbean that year. Or wherever else rich people tend to go. 

"She's just… so…" Yangyang rolls onto his side to face Donghyuck, head swimming in his own haphazard train of thought. "God, she's so fucking hot. And smart. And funny. Fuck, I'm such a bad person…"

Donghyuck doesn’t know exactly what to say to that. For a start, he couldn’t really give a shit about Yangyang’s girl problems. The only reason he’s being dragged into this in the first place is because the girl Yangyang has a problem with just so happens to be dating his own twin brother. Which, to summarise, means it’s all really just Jeno’s fault.

As usual. 

“Donghyuck,” Yangyang slurs, blinking incoherently. “Do you want to drink with me?”

Does he want to drink with Yangyang? Does he want to jump off a fucking cliff? Donghyuck scowls in response. It’s a hard pass. “Just go to bed,” he mutters. “Jesus. Don't you have soccer practice in the morning, or whatever?”

Yangyang lets out a discontented whine and rolls over again — only this time it’s onto the carpet. He hits the floor with a yelp but doesn’t move from the tangled heap he lands in. “You hate me,” he states, in the kind of baby voice Donghyuck hates, all muffled from the way the sound goes straight through the floorboards. “You don’t have to fucking hate me all the time, Donghyuck.”

“You’re the one who hates me, you prick,” Donghyuck retorts. “Sorry for being the shit people like you have to step on."

Yangyang mumbles something unintelligible in response but it's mainly muffled by dorm carpet and drool. Donghyuck grimaces. He hasn't seen his roommate drunk very often since they started living together, so he's not really sure what the correct protocol is for a situation like this. But since he pretty much hates Yangyang's guts, Donghyuck figures he'll just leave him there.

There's a long moment of silence.

Fuck, has he stopped breathing? Donghyuck starts to panic. He leaps out of his desk chair, eyes wide, and takes two paces towards Yangyang's crumpled figure. He's on his side… good .

“You're not…” Yangyang inhales suddenly, making Donghyuck nearly jump out of his skin. “...shit.”

Donghyuck shudders. He especially can't face playing nurse to his arch nemesis all night. “Alright, I can't deal with this,” he says under his breath. “I'm going for a walk.”

He shoves his feet into his trusty shower sliders (shared shower, a dozen boys, enough said) and makes a dash for the door, slipping out into the corridor outside. Yangyang calls out something along the lines of: I'll take you to Düsseldorf with me! Donghyuck brutally ignores him and stalks off down the hall and out of the building. 

“Fucking hell.”

Needless to say, Donghyuck isn't exactly having the time of his life when it comes to his early adulthood. Things were bad enough before last week's incident. Sure, university completely sucked, he had no friends and he was flunking his course, but at least he wasn't fighting with his brother's boyfriend or worrying that he might be gay. If somebody were to read a well-written and hilarious depiction of Donghyuck's life, they might be asking: why is that so bad? Surely Donghyuck's circumstances will improve during the overarching plot, and surely out of anyone to have a big fat crush on - Ten ought to be one of the best options, right?

Wrong. Donghyuck isn't in the mood for character development right now.

Donghyuck sighs.

The moon glimmers behind a bank of clouds and city smog, but at least campus air is clear and crisp. He breathes it deeply into his lungs and tries to let his mind sit for a moment. He's almost, almost feeling better when he realises something terrible: he doesn't have his room key.

He doesn't have his room key.

“Oh, come on.” Donghyuck starts cursing loudly as he pats himself down in search of his room key. But he has nothing. He's outside in a very dark campus in his shower sliders with nothing but his phone. And to make matters even worse, when he checks his phone, it's on 19%.

Now, since he can't get back into his dorm building, Donghyuck has a few options:

Option 1 - Jeno. 

Ordinarily, this wouldn't be a bad suggestion. A twin brother should always be there in times of need, and in all fairness Jeno would probably help Donghyuck out. However, there are two main issues with this idea. Number one: Jeno is always in bed before 10pm on a Wednesday because he has to wake up at the crack of dawn for soccer practice. And number two: Donghyuck's inferiority complex won't let him admit to his brother (who is better than him in every way) that he's fucked up in such a major way.

So, moving on to:

Option 2 - Taeyong.

What a gift it is for one to have two brothers to rely on. Taeyong would be the perfect choice in this sort of rescue situation (except for the fact that he would put on his Worried Mom face and start fussing over Donghyuck while nagging him at the same time) but there is only one problem: Johnny. There is absolutely no way that Donghyuck is about to sit through the second half of their argument when Johnny inevitably comes to pick him up in the Hyundai company car, grumbling every two seconds. 

No. That means there is only one option left.

“For fuck's sake,” Donghyuck groans, wanting to hit himself in the face with that stupid phone. He goes through this whole thought process in a matter of seconds, which makes the realisation so much worse.

What is he even supposed to say to him? Oh, hi, Ten-hyung, I'm a dumbass and by the way I locked myself out of my room, please let me sleep with you in your luxury apartment complex? Donghyuck feels a chill go through his bones. He didn't mean ‘sleep with’ like that.  

Before he can second-guess himself further, Donghyuck makes the call.

“ Hello ?”

Fuck. He's gone and done it now. Waking up a grown man in the middle of the night. 

“ Um, who is this ?”

Donghyuck is absolutely mortified. Ten's voice is a few tones lower than his usual speaking voice, and thick like he's been dragged out of a deep and contented sleep. Donghyuck checks the time. It's past midnight.

“It's, um… it's me.” Donghyuck wants to smack himself across the ears. “It's uh, Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck? How did you get my number?”

That's a good question actually. If Donghyuck remembers correctly, he's pretty sure Taeyong forced the number into his contacts a few weeks ago after Ten drove him back to campus. (“You need another emergency contact, Hyuckie,” Taeyong had implored, after stealing Donghyuck's phone to jab in the number. “Ten is very reliable. Well, he is now, at least.”)

“Um, Taeyong-hyung gave it to me.” Donghyuck swallows.

“Ah.” Ten makes the most gorgeous noise like he's having a big stretch. “Is everything alright? It's late.”

Donghyuck bites his lip nervously. “I know,” he says. “Sorry.” The trees dotted around the university campus cast shadows like darting figures in the wind, and the darkness seems to grow thicker.

Ten seems to sense the slight wobble in Donghyuck's voice because he sounds a lot more awake the next time he speaks. “ Donghyuck ,” he says very seriously, “ what's wrong? Are you okay?”

It's fight or flight. Donghyuck feels like an animal ready for slaughter. He's got Ten's soft voice in his ear and it makes him want to crawl into a dark hole somewhere and hide forever. He picks flight.

“You know what?” Donghyuck says, putting on that irritating brash tone he uses as a mode of defense. “It's actually fine. Sorry for bothering you. Bye.”

He's so, so close to hanging up.

“Hey, hold on .”

Ten says it so softly that Donghyuck barely catches it. But he does. He brings the phone back to his ear. The wind howls around him, the sound blocking out the incessant hammering of his heart in his chest.

“Are you in trouble, Donghyuck? Is that… are you outside?”

“I…” Donghyuck's entire mouth feels dry. “Well, I sort of… lockedmyselfoutofmyroom… ” He mumbles the whole thing, words blending together like a bad fruit smoothie.

“ Hm?”

Donghyuck sighs and something inside him snaps. “I locked myself out of my fucking room, okay? There, I said it.”

He expects Ten to laugh, but there is a long pause. 

“Right. Okay. Where are you now?”

Ten is perfectly calm, solemn even. It catches Donghyuck off guard.

“By the Biology building,” he says shortly. “It's fine, I—”

“Don't move. I’m on my way.”

Well, he's gone and done it now. Donghyuck is well and truly frozen when Ten hangs up the call. (At least he's being obedient.) Minutes pass. Donghyuck starts to shiver. It's late April but the nights are still bitingly cold for this time of year. His phone battery is slowly draining away and dying.

And then a sleek black Tesla pulls up.

Donghyuck hesitates. His stomach is twisting itself in knots. He stares at the tinted windows, starting to feel a little bit nauseous. Then Ten slowly lowers the passenger window.

He's in a hoodie. With the hood up around his face, dark hair just brushing his forehead. It makes him look younger somehow.

“Come on,” Ten says, expectantly. “Door’s open.”

Donghyuck can barely look at him. He climbs in, slams the passenger door shut, and does his seatbelt up with unleashed aggression before he sits and sulks. Ten flicks a signal on and pulls out onto the road, weaving his way out of campus until he can merge onto the main road. 

They drive in silence.

It feels a lot like last time.

“So,” Ten says, eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel. He tries really, really hard not to laugh. “You locked yourself out of your dorm?”

“Don't laugh.”

“I'm not laughing!” Ten says, while laughing. “How on earth did you manage that?”

His laugh is so infectious that it becomes really difficult for Donghyuck not to join in. “Forgot my room key,” he says, pressing his lips together.

“At midnight?”

“Yes, at midnight!” Donghyuck snaps. “I've already told you not to fucking laugh at me.”

They slow to a stop, hitting a red light. 

Ten struggles to keep a straight face. “Sorry, what was that?”

Donghyuck inhales. “I've already told you not to fucking laugh at me, hyung .”

Ten smiles, and that smile turns into a joyous little laugh that breaks Donghyuck in two, and he can't help but join in. He sneaks a glance at Ten, who is now focused back on the road as the lights change to green. The Tesla speeds off down the highway.

By the time they arrive at Ten's apartment complex, Donghyuck has forgotten why he was angry in the first place. It's weird, the way Ten somehow seems to make everything okay without doing much at all. They step out of the car and it locks with a beep. 

“Come on,” Ten says softly. He moves around to Donghyuck's side of the car and leads the way up to his apartment.

Ten's apartment complex is ten times nicer than Taeyong's. They take the elevator for a start, which glides up to the fourteenth floor with ease, and when they step out they are greeted with a view across Seoul through tinted windows. 

“Whoa,” Donghyuck says before he can stop himself, “you're rich. ”

Ten cracks a smile. “I'm very lucky,” he says wryly. He unlocks his front door and holds it open. “Welcome to my home.”

Donghyuck steps inside and it's only now he realises how bad this situation is for him. He locked himself out of his goddamn room, phoned up his older brother's very attractive friend in the middle of the night for rescue, and is now burdening him with an unexpected guest. He turns just as Ten is closing the door behind him and hitting a light switch. Fuck , Donghyuck is hit with a pang of guilt. Ten is wearing that navy hoodie and plaid pyjama pants, like he's just rolled out of bed. (Because he had just rolled out of bed, probably.) 

Ten kicks off a pair of UGGs and steps into his house slippers. He glances up only to find Donghyuck staring at him. (Again.)

“Have you eaten?” Ten asks, moving around the small kitchen island to check the fridge. He opens the door, cold light spilling out onto him as he takes a big yawn.

Oh god, Donghyuck can't inconvenience him even more. Also, it should be illegal for Ten to be that… ugh . All sleepy and warm, bathed in all that cool light from the fridge.

“Yes,” Donghyuck answers quickly.

His stomach complains with a loud grumble.

Fuck you, stomach. 

“...No.”

Ten smiles and leaps into action. The kettle goes on, and food starts coming together at chef-level speed. Donghyuck hesitantly comes to sit at one of the bar stools, watching in awe.

“You really don't have to,” he tries, but his objection is met with a wave of Ten's hand.

“Shut it, you. It's no problem,” Ten says easily. He starts boiling packet ramen at the stove. “We can't have you going hungry now, can we, Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck's stomach twists, but he can't tell whether it's because of hunger or the way Ten says his name. 

“Well,” he says, a little stiff in his gratitude, “thanks.”

Ten cracks an egg into the pan and lets the water bubble away. “You're very welcome, kid.” 

The apartment is simple and masculine, with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. But the light softens the edges, making the place feel warm. There are potted plants on nearly every surface and a messy stack of books on the coffee table, and quite possibly a chess set lying about disused. 

“Do you have any friends?” 

The question comes out a lot more accusatory than Donghyuck had hoped. Actually, he really intended to ask about the chess board and whether Ten has friends over very often, but it all comes out quite wrong.

Ten makes a noise that's neither a scoff or a laugh, but something in between. “I have enough,” he says with a shrug. “Do you?”

Donghyuck breezes straight past that response, since he's actually mostly friendless and alone. “So you like entertaining then?”

“I suppose.” Ten stirs the ramen and turns off the heat. “I like to cook for people… but I'm not so good at making things fun.”

“Why?”

The corner of Ten's mouth curls up somewhat ruefully. He serves up Donghyuck's meal and hands him a pair of chopsticks. “I guess people just don't think I'm a very interesting person anymore,” he says eventually. He leans on the kitchen counter, watching in amusement as Donghyuck digs into his meal (and instantly burns his mouth).

“They're probably right,” Donghyuck says, noodles nearly spilling out of his mouth.

Ten breaks into a smile then and reaches over to ruffle Donghyuck's hair. “You're cutthroat, kid,” he says through a laugh. “Fucking evil.”

“I know.”

“Oh, I know you know.”

Donghyuck points a chopstick at him. “Don't push it, hyung.”

Ten throws a tea towel over his shoulder and starts cleaning up. “I'm just glad someone appreciates my cooking,” he remarks. “Even if it is just ramen.”

“Oh, right.” Donghyuck gulps down his mouthful, and despite wanting to inhale the rest of the bowl, adds, “Thank you.”

“It's alright,” Ten says. He lets the water run and it fills the briefest moment of silence. “I just meant it's been a long time since I've cooked for someone…”

Donghyuck looks up at him and cocks an eyebrow. 

Ten sighs. He turns his back to Donghyuck and starts washing the pan in the sink. “My ex didn't like it when I used to cook,” he says, like it still stings.

This throws Donghyuck in a spin. Ten used to have an ex? Well, of course it's not out of the question - the guy is twenty-four already - but Donghyuck is now having a rather painful time imagining Ten with a partner. God, it was probably some stunningly perfect tiny girl with a cute voice, or something.

All he can think of to ask is: “Why?”

(He feels like a toddler.)

Ten moves the pan to the drying rack and turns back to face him. “Well,” he says, doing some serious soul searching for a wise enough answer, “some people like to be independent, and live busy lives. My ex was like that, always rushing. I like to live more in the slow lane now.”

Donghyuck frowns as he slurps up the last of the ramen broth. “But what was wrong with your cooking?”

“Nothing really,” Ten shrugs. “Cooking just takes time. And he didn't have a lot of time for me.”

Donghyuck blinks.

He feels like he's just been punched in the face. Repeatedly.

Ten's ex was a he?

Chapter Text

It's been four years since they started dating, and Johnny still can't get Taeyong's parents to like him.

He tells himself that they probably would like him, if they bothered to try and get to know him. But, as Taeyong's parents have made very clear, their biggest issue with Johnny is that he is a him in the first place. So there's no way of really moving past that. (Then again, maybe they wouldn't like him if they got to know him anyway. Johnny sometimes tells himself that instead to pretend that it's all for the best.)

Johnny pulls up at the Lee residence in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday, battered silver Hyundai shuddering to a stop. He hasn't had the car that long, a little over a year maybe since he moved to Korea to pursue a job in car sales (and also pursue his once-in-a-lifetime perfect gorgeous long-distance boyfriend) after college. The car was all he could afford, and that was with his staff discount applied to the final amount. 

He's finished with work for the day, which means he's in an ill-fitting suit which makes him sweat at the collar. Johnny checks his reflection in the rearview mirror and rakes handfuls of hair out of his eyes. God, he's in dire need of a haircut. He loosens his tie, but it does nothing to help the knot in his stomach that he gets any time he's within a five mile radius of Taeyong's parents.

Johnny checks his phone. No new messages from his boyfriend. 

Just the last one, that reads:

Baby, can you pick me up from my parents after work? Sorry :( I love you <3

Johnny winds down the window a crack, desperate for a gulp of fresh air. That's when he hears the shouting.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

He rolls down the window a little more. The front door is flung open and Taeyong storms out, honey-coloured hair flying in the early spring breeze. His mother follows, while his father hovers in the doorway. Taeyong slings his work bag over one shoulder and turns to face them. 

Johnny ducks down in the driver's seat. He's not in the mood to be brought into this argument. Even though it's probably about him.

“Mom, you've only met him once,” Taeyong is saying, “and you walked out after twenty minutes. How can you judge him when you don't even know him?”

“I know him,” his mother says sharply. “The world knows him. And the world judges him. I won't see the world judge you too.”

“I know what people will say, and I don’t care.”

His mother wrings her hands together, barely able to look at him. “Then you are foolish.”

“Mom…”

“Don't come here again.” She can hardly get the words out. Taeyong watches his mother turn her back and head inside.

Taeyong exhales and rubs his eyes. “Dad—” he says helplessly.

His father sighs. “Taeyong-ah. She's worried about you.”

“She's got a funny way of showing it.”

“I know. Give her time.”

“It's already been a year since I told her, Dad,” Taeyong says. “I don't know how much more time she needs.”

There isn't much his father can say to that. “I'm sorry, Taeyong.” He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “She asks about you, though. She wants to know if you're eating well.”

“I'm eating fine,” Taeyong grumbles. “She should ask me herself.”

There's a call from inside and Taeyong's father sighs again. “You'd better go,” he advises. He spots Johnny cowering in the car and gives him the slightest wave. Then he puts a hand on Taeyong's shoulder. “Take care of yourself, son.”

And then he heads inside and the door closes. And Taeyong is left on the doorstep alone.

Johnny rolls down the car window and beeps the horn. “Get in, love, we've got places to be,” he calls.

Taeyong heads down the driveway, the slightest smile returning to his cheeks. He climbs into the passenger seat and greets Johnny with a kiss, running a hand back through his overgrown head of hair.

“God, you're sweaty,” he says in surprise, pulling away. “You're going straight in the shower when we get home.”

“Only if you're coming with me.” Johnny waggles his eyebrows in a desperate attempt to make Taeyong laugh. “I was sweating because of your tiger mom over there.”

Taeyong's face falls. “She just won't change ,” he says quietly. “No matter what I do, she just won't accept me.”

Johnny reaches a hand over to lace their fingers together. “It'll be okay,” he says, voice soft for once. “It might not seem like it now, but it'll get better. Well, hopefully.”

“Maybe.”

“How come you're here in the first place?” Johnny asks. He starts the engine, eager to get away.

Taeyong heaves a sigh. “I wanted to ask them about throwing a party, or something. It's Jeno and Hyuckie's birthdays next month and I thought… I don't know, I thought it could be some kind of truce.”

“Well, that's a good idea, baby,” Johnny says as they escape the neighbourhood and head back in the direction of the apartment. 

“Not good enough, apparently. They wouldn't hear of it once your name was mentioned.”

Johnny feels his heart sink deep in his chest. “Gee,” he says, “but I'm the life of every party.” He can't quite throw enough enthusiasm into his words to make them sound, well, not sad and broken.

“I'm sorry.” Taeyong rests his hand on Johnny's after he changes gears. “I didn't mean for it to sound that harsh. It was just… yeah, it wasn't my favourite conversation.”

“Understatement of the century.”

“Anyway,” Taeyong goes on, and he begins to rummage through his work bag which sits on his lap, “I also went home to grab some more games for my Switch. I thought we could play one tonight?”

Johnny swallows his pride and tries to be more positive, for Taeyong's sake at least. “Alright,” he says. “What options have we got?”

“Well, I wanted my copy of Luigi's Mansion back, ‘cause I thought you'd like it. But I had an even better idea for Game Night…” Taeyong pulls out a disc and holds it up proudly, though Johnny has to keep his eyes on the road.

“Mm-hm?”

“Since we could all use a little teamwork after the other week, I think we should play Overcooked. ”

As it turns out, this isn't such a great idea at all.

(But more on that later.)

Meanwhile, on campus, Donghyuck is ducking out at the end of class, dying inside because none of the damn content makes any sense. His brain is thoroughly scrambled, and he's seriously considering hiring someone to do his homework for him. 

Studying economics was a stupid idea, but maths was about the only thing Donghyuck had been good at. Except music.

“Hey, Hyuck! Wait up!”

Nobody ever says that to Donghyuck on campus. He hasn't done a very good job at making friends yet, and it's already been months. Which must mean that voice belongs to someone Donghyuck has known for a very long time… since birth, actually.

His twin brother, Jeno.

Donghyuck slows his pace for Jeno to catch up. (It's not hard; Jeno's built like an Olympic track star, so he catches up in milliseconds.) Jeno barely takes a second to breathe. His lungs (and muscles, and all internal organs, really) are in far better condition than his twin's. Donghyuck stares at him through the hair that hangs in his eyes. Jeno's all clean-cut black hair and dazzling white smile, biceps on show in a tight-fitting t-shirt, and no jacket even though it's still April and freezing outside. 

Man, Donghyuck hates him. (Not quite as much as he loves him. But it's almost there.)

“I haven't seen you in ages,” Jeno says. He slings an arm over Donghyuck's shoulder which hits him with a force greater than God. “How have you been?”

“Good.”

Jeno nods. “Mm. Good. Yangyang said you've been out a lot.”

Donghyuck snorts, and then coughs. “Not really,” he says. “Yangyang tells you a lot of things then, does he?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jeno drops the arm from Donghyuck's shoulders but keeps pace with him across the quad. They head down a set of concrete steps through to the centre of campus. “Hyuck, are you alright?”

Damnit. Donghyuck really thought vague lying would get past his brother, but Jeno sees right through him. He would do, after all. They are twins. And despite being fraternal, not identical, they've spent far too long together not to be able to read each other's minds.

“I'm fine, Jeno,” he says without much conviction. “Honestly.”

Jeno clearly doesn't believe him. It's obvious because he gives Donghyuck The Look . 

“Seriously, it's fine,” Donghyuck insists. “You've got your own life, you don't have to keep checking up on me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You really don't.”

“It's my job,” Jeno says, quite sincerely.

Donghyuck huffs. He should've expected this to happen when both he and Jeno enrolled at the same university. Their parents had supported the decision, but only because they thought Jeno would be able to look after Donghyuck. Jeno's always pitied him, all the way back since kindergarten. It was so pathetic. Even his parents didn't think he could make any friends.

“Alright,” Donghyuck concedes, “but I'm telling you, I'm fine. Just leave it.”

“Alright,” Jeno echoes. But he definitely won't leave it. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, even though his plans are extremely flexible since it's a Wednesday and he's not that desperate to return to Family Game Night with Johnny The Giant Prick. 

Jeno waits expectantly for Donghyuck to elaborate.

“I'm going to Taeyong's.”

“Ah, Game Night,” Jeno says, almost regretfully. “I actually really wanna come, Johnny-hyung keeps texting me. But obviously I've got—”

“Soccer practice. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” Jeno scratches the back of his neck, arm flexing in such a hateful way. “Anyway, so I'm going for food with Yeeun and her friends later, and I wondered whether you wanted to join.”

“Ah.”

Jeno and Yeeun have only recently started dating, despite having spent the last few months outrageously flirting and calling it ‘banter’. Yeeun plays for the girls soccer team, so the pair of them spend almost all of their time watching soccer, talking about soccer, and debating strategy. It's sickening.

“Well,” Donghyuck says, trying not to be completely mean, “you know, I would , but I've got this thing .”

Jeno smiles and the dimples spring back into his cheeks. “I know,” he says. “I'll see if I can make some time next week to pop by.”

They reach the point where they will probably part ways - Donghyuck towards the nearest bus stop, and Jeno towards Yeeun's dorm block. Jeno suddenly stops and grabs his brother by the shoulders.

“What about Friday?” he asks.

“What about Friday?” Donghyuck repeats, struggling to free himself from Jeno's iron grip. 

Overhead, a bank of grey works its way across the sky, clouds growing dense as the sun dips lower in the sky. The first of many tiny raindrops lands on Donghyuck's nose and he scowls. (He hates the rain.)

“Well, are you busy?” 

“No.”

Jeno breaks into a grin, and his eyes turn into crescent moons. It's his most charming feature, according to every girl that ever had a crush on him at school. (Donghyuck wishes he had a Most Charming Feature, but he was quickly friendzoned by just about every girl who ever laid eyes on him.) 

“Great!” Jeno exclaims. He claps Donghyuck on the arm and finally lets go. “You're coming out with us then.”

“ Us ?”

“Me and Yeeun,” says Jeno. The rain starts to patter on the concrete, droplets sitting like gems in Jeno's hair. “Oh, and Yangyang. And some of the other guys from soccer might be there. It'll be fun!”

“But—”

“Damn, it's starting to rain,” Jeno curses, holding his arms above his head to block the rain, while letting the rest of his body get soaked through. “I've gotta run, I'm late to meet Yeeun.”

“Jeno—”

“I'll text you!”

And with that, Jeno's sprinting in the opposite direction, looking like a freaking action movie star. Donghyuck pulls up the hood of his sweater and makes a much less intense break for the bus stop. 

By the time he gets to Taeyong's place, he looks like he's been dragged through a sewer backwards.

Donghyuck rings the doorbell, wiping streaming raindrops from his eyes. A strong wind blows a ton of water against the back of his legs and he lets out a string of curses while he waits. When the door finally opens, it's Ten staring at him in disbelief.

“Oh my .”

“What is it?” Taeyong's voice calls.

Johnny appears behind Ten, looking well over his head. “Fucking hell ,” he says, jaw gaping.

“Alright, I get it,” Donghyuck snaps. “Can you just let me in, please? It's fucking howling out here, for god's sake.”

Speechless, Ten and Johnny move aside and Donghyuck shuffles his way into the apartment, shoes squelching over the welcome mat. In seconds, he's standing in a small pool of water. And then Taeyong's there, playing mother as always.

“Oh, Hyuckie,” he says, managing to look a lot more sympathetic than the other two. “Here, give me your things and take a shower. You can borrow something dry to wear.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Donghyuck says. He hands Taeyong his dripping schoolbag, shoots the other two a major death glare, and trudges down the hallway towards the bathroom while Johnny cackles.

“There should be some pyjamas in the drawer!” Taeyong calls after him.

Great. Another day of humiliating himself. Donghyuck's mind travels back to this time last week (well, quite a few hours later in the day) when he slept at Ten's place. At least this isn't quite as embarrassing as that. They'd had an argument over where Donghyuck would sleep that night, which went something like this:

Ten: Take my bed.

Donghyuck: You have work in the morning.

Ten: You have school.

Donghyuck: It's your bed.

Ten: Please take it.

Donghyuck: Hyung, NO .

It had gone back and forth for a good ten minutes until Ten had finally relented. He did, however, supply Donghyuck with a mountain of pillows and blankets and anything else he could possibly imagine he would need. In the end, Donghyuck had just flat-out refused to sleep in Ten's bed, and Ten had been too tired to argue about it anymore. Donghyuck had shuddered at the thought of it. He couldn't exactly tell Ten that the reason he'd refused was because his kindness made it all the more difficult not to have a ginormous crush on him.

God, Donghyuck wishes it would all just go away.

He doesn't have a crush on a man.

And he definitely doesn't have a crush on this man.

“I'm so fucked ,” Donghyuck mutters to himself, inwardly groaning.

He dips into Taeyong and Johnny's bedroom first, in search of dry clothes, and heads straight for the chest of drawers by the window. It's weird, because it's hard to imagine Johnny sleeping in a room like this. The walls are covered in Taeyong's little doodles taped up, and the bed is covered in plushies. (Over half the plushies actually belong to Johnny but he would never admit it to anyone.) Donghyuck opens the top drawer and rifles through in search of Taeyong's least embarrassing pyjamas.

The top drawer brings no luck. Nor the second.

“ Yes ,” Donghyuck quietly self-congratulates as he strikes gold in the third drawer down. He pulls a pair of navy shorts and a white long-sleeve shirt and decides that they are acceptable items of clothing. 

He goes to straighten out the rest of Taeyong and Johnny's pyjama drawer when his hand hits something… not pyjama shaped.

Donghyuck frowns.

His fingers close around a soft velvet box and his pulse starts to race. 

“Oh, fuck.” Donghyuck can't help himself. He takes the box out and opens it.

Inside is a glistening silver ring with three tiny diamonds embedded in the band. 

“Jesus Christ.” Donghyuck stares at it, unable to produce a single coherent thought.

“Donghyuck?” a voice calls from the hallway.

Donghyuck snaps the box shut and shoves it back in the drawer, slamming the drawer as quickly as he can. “Mm?”

As quickly as his heart drops, it starts to race again. (It's like he's on a fucking rollercoaster.) Ten pokes his head around the doorway. He's still in his work shirt and dark trousers, but the shirt is untucked and hanging loose, revealing a lightly tanned collarbone, and then there's the dark messy hair and unintelligible tattoos peeking out under rolled-up sleeves, and suddenly Donghyuck can't breathe again.

“You want anything?” Ten asks. “I mean… are you hungry?”

Donghyuck can't process the question. It's becoming a problem. (There are plenty of things he wants. And one of them, for some reason unbeknownst to him, is that man .)

“Taeyong's making fried chicken?” Ten rests a palm against the doorframe and Donghyuck just about dies inside. 

All he can do is nod.

“Cool. I'll get you a big plate, then.”

“Yeah, um, thanks,” Donghyuck says, clutching Taeyong's PJs to his chest. His voice comes out all broken and squeaky. He clears his throat ( twice ) and tries again. “That would be great.”

First of all, he can't believe Ten (who works at a bank) would use the word cool . Second of all… there is no second of all. Donghyuck just needs a good slap across the ears.

“Also…” Ten pauses, mind clearly at work, “I'm really sorry if I made you feel awkward last week.”

Donghyuck blinks. “You… didn't make me feel awkward.”

(He did. Big time.)

“Okay,” Ten says, “it's just when you called, I was worried you'd be left out in the cold all night. So, I don't know if I overstepped… it's just sort of what I'm like. I've always been protective of Taeyong like that too.”

“Yeah.” Donghyuck coughs. “I mean, I know.”

Suddenly Johnny appears in the doorway, absolutely killing the mood like he always does. 

“Sorry, I didn't realise the party was in here,” he says, sliding past Ten through the open doorway. “Just grabbing my phone charger.”

“And I need to shower,” Donghyuck mumbles, and just like that, the moment has gone.

When Donghyuck has finished his shower, he walks into the living room with damp hair and Taeyong's pyjamas on, breathing in the heavenly smell of fried chicken on a rainy day. It's perfect. In fact, it's so perfect he can almost forget about the impending doom of his crush on Ten, and the silver ring sitting in Taeyong and Johnny's dresser. 

“This is awesome , baby,” Johnny is saying through a large mouthful of chicken. “Thank you.” He leans over to plant a messy kiss on Taeyong's cheek, leaving a sticky sauce stain behind.

“You are so gross,” Taeyong complains fondly, shaking his head at his oversized boyfriend. He spots Donghyuck walking in and smiles. “Hey, you look cute, Hyuckie!”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck replies, “I couldn't bring myself to choose anything pink, though.”

He plonks himself down on the floor by the coffee table and is greeted with an enormous plate of food, which he quickly begins to demolish. 

Johnny cracks open a beer and slides it towards him. “Here,” he says carefully, “You could use a drink.”

Donghyuck swallows his mouthful of chicken and squints at Johnny via an intense side-eye. After what feels like a long time, he says, “...Thanks.”

It feels like the whole room exhales.

“How's your nose?” Johnny asks.

“Well, it isn't broken.”

“That's good,” Ten offers brightly.

“Yeah, it's a good fucking start,” Donghyuck mutters, before taking another bite of chicken.

“Right,” Johnny starts, through a sharp intake of breath, “I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to hit you in the face.”

“Actually, if I remember correctly, you attacked me with a Wii remote,” Donghyuck says with a sickeningly sweet smile. After a beat, he adds, “Hyung.”

Johnny grits his teeth. “It was an accident .”

Donghyuck just shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Well, you said some pretty nasty things to me, you little prick.”

“Taeyong-hyung, he's calling me names.”

“Okay, stop it, both of you ,” Taeyong pleads. He stands up and everyone looks at him. “Johnny, apologise for hurting Donghyuck's nose.”

“I already have!”

“Fucking do it again!”

Grumbling, Johnny says, “I'm sorry for injuring you. Even though it was an accident.”

“Right,” Taeyong sighs, “now, Donghyuckie, apologise for what you said about Johnny the other week.”

“What did I say?” Donghyuck is all wide eyes and innocence.

“You said, maybe that's why no one in this family likes you ,” Ten supplies helpfully.

“Geez, it's like someone walks around recording everything I say,” Donghyuck complains.

“Apologise, please.” Taeyong folds his arms across his chest and waits.

“Fine! Okay.” Donghyuck turns to Johnny. “I'm sorry for being mean. Even though some of it is true.”

Johnny's jaw clenches, but apart from that he doesn't dare to respond.

“Lovely, now shake hands,” Taeyong instructs.

They shake hands.

“And now that we've all made up, can we please play some games?” Taeyong bounds over to the TV to turn on his Nintendo Switch and starts passing out controllers.

The game loads up and the group are greeted with bright colours and cheerful music. It’s a stark contrast to the general mood of the room, to say the least. They load into the chef menu, and each of them pick an avatar to play as: Johnny picks an angry-looking eagle (of course he does, the big American), Ten picks the pink octopus, Taeyong picks a little green alien, and Donghyuck chooses an orange cat. It suits him. He can really see himself as a ginger.

“Alright,” Taeyong says, with a layer of excitement that is beyond the rest of the group at the moment, “this game is all about teamwork, so let’s work together, please .”

It's a little easier said than done.

The setup of the game is a little contrived, but the little team of chefs is sent from level to level (by the Onion King and his loyal dog Kevin) to learn how to cook and assemble meals to eventually destroy a range of food monsters by feeding them. 

“That dog is actually really cute,” Johnny observes.

“I love Kevin.” Taeyong squeezes Johnny's arm and rests his head on his shoulder. “We should get a dog,” he whispers in Johnny's ear.

(Johnny almost cracks a smile.)

They start off by making soup. For optimum teamwork, there should really be some delegation of jobs in the kitchen, but nobody can really decide whose job is whose. Ten starts chopping stuff and Taeyong manages the pans, leaving Johnny and Donghyuck to scramble with the dirty dishes.

“Can I get a plate for this soup, please?” Taeyong asks.

Ten is still chopping onions. “There aren't any,” he says, too focused on the task at hand.

All the plates are sitting in a pile, dirty.

“Why not ?” Taeyong exhales in exasperation. 

Donghyuck shrugs. “I don't know,” he says, pursing his lips. “That's supposed to be Johnny-hyung's job.”

“ What?! ” Johnny nearly spits out his drink. “I thought you were doing the plates!”

“I was passing the onions to Ten-hyung,” Donghyuck says innocently, trying his absolute best to play the I'm The Youngest slash But I'm Just A Baby Card.

“Which is much appreciated,” Ten chimes in with a nod.

(Donghyuck feels a warmth start to spread in his chest.)

“And what exactly were you doing, Johnny?” Taeyong demands.

“I was…” Johnny falters. His angry-looking eagle avatar is currently spinning around with the fire extinguisher. “I dunno what I was doing…”

Just like that, the timer runs out and they've lost the level. Kevin the Dog shakes his head at them in disappointment.

The truth is, Johnny doesn't know what the hell he is doing. In life, that is. He feels so lucky to get to be with Taeyong, but the rest of the world seems intent on tearing them apart. Family is the most important thing to Johnny, but right now Taeyong is all he's got. His relationship with Taeyong's parents (and the rest of his family, it seems) is fucked , his own parents are thousands of miles away, and now there's nobody left on Johnny's side. 

It's all a bit deep for a stupid cooking game.

“Great,” Taeyong says, throwing down the controller. He gets up and starts clearing plates, storming out in the direction of the kitchen.

“I'll give you a hand,” Ten offers, and follows suit, eager not to be left in the stifling tension that still sits between Johnny and Donghyuck.

The living room is left in silence.

Johnny takes a swig of his beer. “Great,” he mutters, echoing his boyfriend's exit statement, “now look what you've done.”

Donghyuck just scoffs. “Yeah, like that's my fault.”

“Actually, it is.” Johnny puts the beer can down with a little too much force, and some sloshes out onto the coffee table. “Why are you so desperate to pick a fight with me?”

“ Right , because it's always about you, isn't it.”

Johnny inhales and licks his lower lip, trying his best not to lash out. (It's pretty hard, when it's Donghyuck. He's got a very punchable face.) “You're putting Taeyong in a difficult position, okay?” he says, voice a little strained. “I don't want him to be forced to pick sides.”

Donghyuck lets out a short laugh. “Why?” he asks heartlessly. “Because you think he won't pick you?”

Johnny shuts his mouth. (It's true.)

“I know about the ring.”

He knows about the ring. How does he know about the ring?

“You didn't do a very good job of hiding it,” Donghyuck scoffs. “Anyway, what is this - your last attempt at trying to be part of our family? It's not going to work.”

“You know,” Johnny sniffs, “for a teenager, you're fucking mean.”

“I'm nearly twenty.”

“I don't care.” Johnny mutes the TV because the joyful music from the game is really not appropriate right now. “You know nothing about my relationship with Taeyong. I love your brother more than anything in this world, and you can try and fuck it up over my dead body.”

“Yeah, well—”

“I'm still speaking.” 

Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

“I know your parents don't like me, and they don't want their son to be gay, but I don't care,” Johnny goes on, his voice low enough for nobody but Donghyuck to hear him. “That's their problem, not mine. So, if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut.”

Donghyuck leans back against his beanbag, still holding Johnny's secret over his head. It's the best power grab he's ever stumbled across. “Why should I?” he asks. “What's stopping me from telling him?”

Johnny sets his jaw. “Me.”

Before Donghyuck can even burst out laughing, Johnny's got a bit of ammunition of his own.

“I know about your little crush.”

The room starts spinning. Donghyuck almost feels his life flash before his eyes.

The corner of Johnny's mouth starts to curve into a smug sort of smile. “You like Ten, don't you?”

Oh god. 

“I knew it.”

(Johnny has a pretty good gaydar, if he does say so himself.)

Donghyuck can't even open his mouth to deny it. It's true, yet he can barely admit it to himself, let alone anyone else. He feels his chest begin to tighten at the thought of anyone else finding out he likes guys— well, A Guy . It's not necessarily Guys (Plural) yet. Donghyuck starts to panic: yet?!  

“So,” Johnny says, taking a deep breath, “I hate to do this, but… I'll keep your secret if you keep mine.”

Chapter Text

As much as Donghyuck tries to fight against the relentless progression of time, Friday night rolls around. Jeno will not take no for an answer, so Donghyuck has no choice but to be forced into the Worst Night Out Ever.

Which also happens to be his First Night Out Ever.

Taeyong is well aware of this fact, because he makes a massive deal out of it, and drags Donghyuck over that afternoon to ‘get ready’. Donghyuck is pretty sure that getting ready for college Taeyong meant lots of eyeliner and pre-drinking an unreasonable amount of wine. Donghyuck is slightly concerned that he will end up doing the exact same thing.

“Hyuckie, please ,” Taeyong begs. “You can't go out in a hoodie and jeans, it's just not right . Are you going to the club?”

“I don't know ,” Donghyuck says, exasperated. “Jeno didn't bother to tell me any of the details.”

A deep crease forms between Taeyong's brows. “Hm,” he says. “This is difficult. You need something versatile.”

Donghyuck groans.

“Stop whining and come with me.”

Taeyong takes his brother by the hand and pulls him almost kicking and screaming to his closet. Donghyuck sulks on the end of the bed while Taeyong pulls out shirt after shirt, shaking his head in dissatisfaction. 

Donghyuck's eyes wander to the third drawer down of the dresser by the window. “Where's Johnny?” he asks abruptly.

“He's working late today,” Taeyong replies. He pulls out a sheer black shirt covered in tiny glittering rhinestones. “Do you reckon this is too much?”

Donghyuck looks aghast.

“ Okay . It's definitely too much.” Taeyong shoves it back in his closet and keeps looking. 

“So… he hasn't said anything… weird , recently?” Donghyuck continues on. He's not doing a very good job at being inconspicuous, but Taeyong has more important things on his mind right now to notice.

(Namely: 1. Where the hell did he put all of his clubbing outfits from three years ago? And 2. When will his mother ever accept him and Johnny?)

Taeyong drags out an extremely fluffy fur jacket and frowns. “Who?”

“Johnny.”

“Oh.” Taeyong squeezes the jacket back in amongst his other clothes. “No… like what?”

Donghyuck shrugs. He can start to feel his face heating up the way it always does when he's lying (or bullshitting). “I don't know,” he says lamely. “Nevermind.”

He's pretty sure that if Johnny had spilled his secret, Taeyong would be screaming at him right now. So Donghyuck figures that for now, at least, he's probably safe.

“Right,” Taeyong says, clearly far too distracted to pick up on his little brother's shifty behaviour, “you can keep the jeans, but please ditch the hoodie.”

“But—”

Taeyong turns and raises an eyebrow.

“Fine.” Donghyuck wriggles out of the hoodie, tugging it off over his head.

Now Taeyong's staring at him. It's probably because Donghyuck is wearing a very old League of Legends t-shirt. 

“Oh Lord,” Taeyong mutters, and immediately starts rummaging through his t-shirt drawer. He tosses a much less oversized shirt in Donghyuck's direction with enough force that says go change . 

Still grumbling, Donghyuck switches out his League of Legends tee for Taeyong's dark grey offering. It clings to his body. He almost feels… exposed.

Taeyong claps his hands together. “Oh, that's much better,” he says. “I'll just find you a jacket…”

While his brother is looking, Donghyuck shuffles over to the long mirror that's still leaning against the wall behind the door. It was supposed to go up months ago, but it seems Johnny and Taeyong just haven't gotten round to it.

Donghyuck stares at his reflection: his tanned skin, tousled hair, small face framed with blemish after blemish. The jeans hug his thighs, and Donghyuck suddenly really struggles to remember the last time he (his mom) bought new clothes for himself. It must have been years. 

Taeyong lets out a gasp that nearly makes Donghyuck jump out of his skin. “ Perfect! ” he squeals.

He appears behind Donghyuck in the mirror and drapes a heavy leather jacket over his shoulders, silver buckles clinking at the movement. 

Donghyuck frowns.

“What is it?” Taeyong asks quickly, searching Donghyuck's eyes for answers in the reflection. “You hate black? No, you wear loads of black. Wait, it's the leather—”

“Hyung,” Donghyuck interrupts. His voice is a little gruff, so he swallows the lump in his throat. “It's… fine. It's good.”

He's never seen himself like this. Almost everything is the same old Donghyuck, except… somewhere in the image is a hint of something cool . Donghyuck never thought he'd be cool. He's not quite there yet, even now. But it fills him with a feeling he can barely recognise: hope.

A smile springs back into Taeyong's cheeks. He helps shove his little brother's arms into the jacket and steps back, looking incredibly proud of his work. “You look great, Hyuckie,” he says. “The girls won't even know what hit them out there tonight.”

Donghyuck almost, almost even cracks a smile. (He inwardly wonders what Ten would think.)

“Yeah, well, whatever,” he says, brushing the feeling off as quickly as it arrives. “I should get going.”

Taeyong shuts his closet doors and shoves his feet into a pair of fluffy shark slippers, weaving his way past Donghyuck and into the hall. His sense of urgency prompts Donghyuck to follow, and he stops in the kitchen doorway to watch his brother reach for the top shelf of the nearest cabinet. 

“Before you go,” Taeyong says, retrieving a large glass bottle, “you'll need a little… confidence.”

He sets down a half-empty bottle of tequila.

Donghyuck's eyes go wide.

“Now, Johnny likes spiced rum,” Taeyong explains, while closing the cabinet door. “But I think tequila is better. Plus, it's a party drink, which automatically makes it better, regardless of what I think.”

“I really don't know that we'll end up in the club,” Donghyuck says, wrinkling his nose.

Taeyong sets out two shot glasses and pours them about three quarters full. His eyes almost seem to sparkle. “With that lot, I really hope you do,” he says sincerely. “There's only so much soccer conversation I could take.”

Donghyuck is inclined to agree.

“Alright,” he says hurriedly, taking one of the glasses, “let's do it, then.”

Taeyong grins and takes the other. “Alright,” he echoes. “To Donghyuckie's first big night out!”

Donghyuck grumbles at that, but they clink glasses and knock back the shots. Taeyong takes it like a champ, but Donghyuck gags and forces it down. The alcohol is smooth, but it burns like a bitch every inch it runs down his throat. 

“Fucking hell .”

“Mm,” Taeyong agrees. “ God , it's been a long time. Almost makes me want to join you.”

“Oh, perfect, you can go instead of me, and talk about soccer for hours—”

“I said almost .”

Donghyuck takes a deep breath and strengthens his resolve. He squares his shoulders, mentally preparing for the night ahead. “Pour me another.”

“Oh,” Taeyong says, eyebrows raised. “Are you sure—”

“Hyung,” Donghyuck implores, holding out his shot glass with both hands. “I'm gonna need it.”

And boy, does Donghyuck wish he was wrong.

The night kicks off as expected: mostly everyone is too sober to have a remotely interesting conversation, so they all chat about everything and nothing over Korean barbecue. All the soccer boys are loud and rowdy over their beers, Jeno and Yeeun are kicking each other lovingly under the table, and Donghyuck is sat wishing he'd drank more tequila at Taeyong's. 

He's also watching Yangyang watching Yeeun across the table, and he's wishing his roommate never confessed that particular crush.

In all fairness, even Donghyuck can admit that Yeeun is a particularly pretty girl. She's small, with her dark hair cut blunt to the chin, dressed in baggy jeans and green Nike hi-tops. But more than that, she's got this kind of cool girl energy about her that's just magnetic. Donghyuck can see why Jeno's so into her. He's still putting more food on her plate mindlessly, while keeping the rest of his attention on the group conversation. What a skill.

“Honestly, Jeno, that save you made last week was insane ,” one of the soccer boys is saying.

“That's such an understatement, Jaemin. It should've been a goal,” says another, mouth full of Korean beef.

“Shut the hell up, Mark,” says a third (Donghyuck can hardly keep up with the names). “You'd better keep working on your penalties.”

“If Jeno keeps this up, no one will be scoring until he graduates,” someone else says.

Everyone laughs.

“Guys, please,” Jeno says, with that good-natured smile of his, “I've got plenty of things I still need to work on.”

Jaemin, who is sitting next to Jeno and looks like a freaking Hollywood movie star, ruffles Jeno's hair. “Aw, look, he's humble as well.”

Yeah, he's Mr. Fucking Perfect. Donghyuck is having a difficult time sitting through this. He downs his drink and sighs.

“So, Jeno's brother,” says Mark from the other end of the table, “do you play any sports?”

Donghyuck blinks. He feels a dozen pairs of eyes turn to look at him. “Uh… no, not really.”

It's at this very moment that Yangyang decides to stop staring at Yeeun and chip in. “Does he hell,” he scoffs, his voice coming out all snarky and spiteful. “He's some nerd who doesn't have any friends and plays video games 24/7.”

Silence falls over the table. Donghyuck wants the ground to swallow him up.

Mark clears his throat. “Well, I didn't realise it was Yang's turn to be a dick tonight,” he says.

One of the guys who spoke earlier chimes in, clapping Yangyang on the back. “Sounds like you owe Jeno's brother a drink.”

“Fantastic idea, Xiaojun.” Jaemin slaps a hand on the table and gets to his feet. “Another round for the table, Yangyang?”

Yangyang rolls his eyes, but shuts his mouth and gets out his credit card. The tension over the table dissipates as quickly as it settled, and conversation fills the room again. Donghyuck doesn't want to admit it, but he's kind of impressed at how the soccer boys handled that. And he's also a little surprised that they somewhat covertly jumped to his defence. 

“So, Donghyuck,” Yeeun says, once Yangyang is on his feet to order more drinks. “How's uni going so far?”

“Uh…” Donghyuck looks up to meet her eyes. She's completely engaged. “Yeah, good, I guess.”

That's a lie. Uni sucks ass so far.

“Joined any clubs or societies?”

“...Nope. Not yet.”

Not ever.

“You should think about it!” Yeeun says encouragingly. “I can't stand my roommate, but I've made such good friends on the girls soccer team.”

It's like she can sense how much Donghyuck and Yangyang hate each other. Not that it's hard.

“Hyuck's got loads of friends outside uni,” Jeno says. “Plus, we like to do family get-togethers and stuff. But yeah, can't hurt to check out some societies, right?”

Why is he lying? It's a complete and outright lie, but for some reason Donghyuck's brother is trying to make him seem much cooler than he is. 

“I wish I did more stuff with my family,” Jaemin says. “My parents are so boring.”

“Speaking of boring , we should get out of here,” Yangyang declares as he returns to the table. A large tray of drinks is put down next to him, with both beers and shots. “So everyone drink up!”

The soccer boys cheer. Donghyuck sighs. It's going to be a long night.

They make it to the club by 11.

Most of the guys are sufficiently intoxicated by this point, and even Donghyuck can feel the world spinning around him. A bunch of Yeeun's friends from the girls soccer team show up to join the group on the walk over, and she skips off ahead with them. The rest of the boys meander down the street, laughing and jeering.

Jeno slings his arm around Donghyuck with the kind of force that can only come from a drunk man. “Having fun?” he asks, a little too loudly, right in his brother's ear.

Donghyuck nods, and then laughs in spite of himself. Jeno's face is glowing under the streetlamps, and it takes Donghyuck a moment to focus. “It's not so bad,” he begrudgingly agrees. 

“I knew it,” Jeno says with a broad grin. “You'll be the life of the party in no time, Hyuckie.” He drags Donghyuck closer (by the neck, since that's what is trapped in the crook of Jeno's elbow) and plants a rough kiss on the top of his head.

“Gross.” Donghyuck squirms, but he can't help but feel a little lighter. They haven't been like this for years .

Brains swimming in beer, the two of them start skipping down the pavement, giddy with laughter until they reach the club. 

Once they get inside, Donghyuck's life changes. Music's pumping so loud he can feel the bass vibrating in the floor, and in his ears. The air is warm and sticky with spirit, settling around him in a somewhat confusing veil of freedom. Donghyuck breathes it in. With only one step through the doorway, he feels like he could be anyone he wants to be in here. And he loves it.

The only problem is that soccer boys make for an extremely boring night out. All they want to do is drink pints and stand in the smoking area chatting about girls.

The girls in question look like they are having way more fun, throwing it back on the dance floor, arms slung over each other, laughing drunkenly. (Donghyuck would join them if it wasn't so embarrassing.)

“Your girl is fit , Jeno,” says Jaemin wistfully, cigarette between his lips as he struggles with the lighter. 

“Yeah, how on earth did you manage that?” Xiaojun laughs, clapping Jeno on the shoulder.

Jeno just smiles. “I have no idea,” he admits, “but she's more than just fit.”

“Yeah, she's freaking stunning, dude,” says Mark.

Jaemin is still clicking the lighter incessantly near Donghyuck's ear, thumb slipping again and again. With a huff, Donghyuck grabs it off him and lights up the end of Jaemin's cigarette which still sits impatiently between his lips.

“There,” Donghyuck mutters. He grabs Jaemin's wrist and slaps the lighter in his waiting hand.

Jaemin inhales deeply, and then smoke starts curling out his nose. “Thanks,” he says, fixing Donghyuck with a half-smirk that shouldn't be as sexy as it probably is. “Anyway,” he goes on, offering the cigarette to Jeno, “Yeeun's a keeper, for sure.”

“Yeah, yeah, she's gorgeous, whatever,” Donghyuck grumbles. “Tell us something we don't already know. I didn't think you smoke, Jeno.”

Jeno shrugs, tilting his head up to exhale a cloud of smoke into the cool night air. “I sometimes make exceptions,” he says. “Guys, she's more than fit, okay? She's so smart, and funny, and cool…”

“Oh, he's in love ,” Xiaojun says.

Jeno doesn't say anything to that, but the warm blush that creeps up his neck does all the talking for him.

“Where the fuck is Yangyang?” Jaemin says suddenly, holding out his hand to Jeno and expecting a cigarette to reappear between his fingers. “He owes me a drink.”

It's all a bit blurry at this point, so Donghyuck decides his best plan of action is to go inside, find somewhere to piss, and then go and dance. Maybe with the girls. Maybe on his own. He starts wandering in the direction of the doors, blinking rapidly like that will make everything come back into focus.

“Are you going in?” someone calls, possibly Mark.

“Find Yangyang, will you?” Jaemin says. “And tell him he owes me.”

Donghyuck just nods his head and stumbles back inside. 

The music starts pounding again, and the corridors are filled with green light leaking out from the dance floor. People push past and there's a couple making out on the stairs, and every step feels like walking on the moon. Donghyuck swallows the bile that's rising in his throat and practically claws his way into the bathroom. 

Everything feels muted in here, like all the sound is pulled into a vacuum. It makes Donghyuck's head spin, and all of his other senses heighten. 

And then he sees him.

He emerges from a cubicle, pushing another man out with a roll of his eyes and a hand to the lower back. He's tall, with glitter glinting in his dark hair and silver jewellery cascading over pale collarbones. His shirt is made from some gauzy sheer fabric that clings to his body and hangs lazily from his shoulders. Even in his drunken stupor (beer goggles firmly on), Donghyuck is certain that this is the most heavenly being he has ever set eyes upon. 

He must be an angel.

(He forgets all about Ten in an instant.)

“Oh, hey,” says the stranger, with a voice like honey. His eyes rake up and down the length of Donghyuck's body, eventually settling into the sort of eye contact that makes Donghyuck's breath catch in his throat.

Donghyuck blinks rapidly.

“H-Hey,” he says through a hiccup, leaning one hand against the wall in an attempt at suave . Really, he's just trying not to sway quite as dangerously.

His hand slips on the tile and suddenly all semblance of balance is gone and Donghyuck is headed for the dirty floor. Until he isn't. In a split second he's in the arms of an angel, hands around his waist and that soft sheer fabric against his cheek. Donghyuck breathes, head spinning. His saviour is warm and steady, and his skin smells like vanilla and spice and something deeper that he can't place.

“Hey, be careful,” says the stranger, his voice both teasing and yet full of something Donghyuck can't understand, “wouldn't want you falling for me, or something.”

It would be Donghyuck's instinct to scoff at a line like that, but when he looks up, he's transfixed. “Shut up,” he says softly.

The light flickers and the LEDs from the dance floor change and flood the doorway with purple. It makes the glitter in Angel Boy's hair sparkle with this ultraviolet luminosity. His grip on Donghyuck's waist is firm, pinkie fingers just brushing the top of his jeans. 

Donghyuck's stomach does the thing.

(Both you and I probably know what the thing feels like, but this is Donghyuck's first time. He's overwhelmed by the feeling.)

Angel Boy's lips are slightly parted and Donghyuck can't drag his eyes away. The moment is fleeting but it feels like time is stuck, throwing everything into slow motion. Donghyuck takes a leap of faith, reaches up to curl his fingers around the back of Angel Boy's neck, and brings their mouths together, kissing him hard.

He tastes like strawberry and tequila, and his hair is soft when it tangles in Donghyuck's fingers. 

Every cell in Donghyuck's body is on fire. He is so sure, even submerged in his drunken brain fog, that there can't be a feeling better than this. His stomach churns as he drinks it in: the sensation of this boy's tongue in his mouth.

Then he realises exactly why his stomach is churning. And it promptly starts churning even more violently.

Donghyuck breaks away, breathing heavily. His throat starts burning and he gags, Korean BBQ threatening to make a reappearance. 

Angel Boy's eyes go wide. “Are you— shit , okay, just—”

It's far too late to do anything about it. 

After the most mind-blowing, earth-shattering First Kiss that Donghyuck could ever hope for, his stomach ruins it all by heaving out its contents onto the most gorgeous, sexy stranger that Donghyuck could ever hope to have said First Kiss with . Angel Boy's mesmerising iridescent shirt is now slick with Donghyuck's stomach lining, and chunks of beef that clearly haven't been chewed well enough.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck blurts, mouth gaping, “I'm so s—”

He can't make it to the end of his apology though, because his stomach heaves again.

It would be so easy for Angel Boy to just leg it out of the bathroom, but he pushes Donghyuck into a cubicle in just enough time for his knees to hit the floor to aim Projectile Vomit 2.0 in the toilet bowl instead. Donghyuck feels like crying, eyes welling up as this heaven-sent boy rubs his back while he throws up. 

When there's nothing left to come up, Donghyuck sits back, tears streaming down his cheeks. It's all going wrong because it always does. Why can't he just have this? Why can't this one thing be his without it being ruined? 

It's simply not fair .

Angel Boy is wiping sick from his shirt, but he tosses the toilet roll and hits the flush when he sees Donghyuck crying like that. He crouches next to him, brushing hair out of his eyes with a gentle touch.

“Hey,” he says reassuringly, “I've been a lot worse, I promise.”

Donghyuck just sniffles pathetically in response.

Then there's a hand tilting his jaw upwards, and a soft kiss to his tear-stained lips.

“It was still really hot, baby.”

Donghyuck stares at him, their faces so close now. 

“ You are,” says this beautiful stranger in a low tone, like he's never been so serious about something in his life. “Even like this.”

Suddenly, the sound of rowdy voices draws closer and Donghyuck is snapped out of this hazy dream. He gets groggily to his feet, blood boiling with the shame of it all, thinking of Jeno and his friends finding him like this. Without another word, he flees haphazardly from the scene of the crime, diving back into the throngs of intoxication on the dance floor, senses dulled by the bass booming in his ears.

He isn't even thinking about finding Yangyang, like he was supposed to, when he spots him in the crowd.

With Yeeun.

A little too close for comfort.

Donghyuck can't do anything but stand and watch, bodies bumping against him, as Yeeun leans in to say something in Yangyang's ear, and Yangyang in return grabs her face and kisses her. The overhead strobe burns the back of Donghyuck's retinas as he watches the worst unfold.

They break apart.

Yangyang looks up, eyes wide as his gaze somehow finds Donghyuck across the crowd. His expression is filled with guilt.

Donghyuck can't watch this anymore. He turns and starts squeezing past people, lungs clamouring for fresh air as he searches for the exit. 

He stumbles down the steps, dry heaving. He looks up, and through a break in the clouds, he can see stars.

And at last , this nightmare is finally over.