Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“You are now tuned in to Chilli Sauce, this campus’s one-stop-listening-shop for your favorite rap, hip hop, and pop tunes. This next song is older, but won’t stop being gold; everyone please enjoy A Midsummer Night’s Sweetness by San E and Raina.” 

Vernon leaned back from the mic as the song began playing through the headphones, listening to the vocal lead up before beginning to bop his head along to the slow beat. Then he noticed both of his coworkers staring at him, pulling the headphones off one ear so they laid skewed on the top of his head.

“What?” He asked. Chan was just looking at him, but Chan was often looking at him; Chan was a first year college student, and was new to the campus radio’s student family, so while he didn’t do much more than run odd jobs and give out suggestions for song selection that had no obligation of being picked up, he was surprisingly passionate about the job. And about his classes. And about everything else, really. Vernon found it as inspiring as it was exhausting. Chan seemed to think he had something to learn from watching Vernon while he was on the air, something that Vernon truly didn’t understand, because Vernon felt that all he was really did was sit in the chair, talk, and push the right buttons at the right moments. 

It was Vernon’s second year working at the university’s radio station, and only his first year being a radio host, but for some reason people seemed to like him, his personality, and his music choices. He didn’t try too hard to understand it--aside from the music choices thing, he had a dope taste in tunes and he knew it--but it was nice all the same.

“You just said ‘tunes’. Rap tunes.” Jihoon was grinning. Jihoon was another one of Vernon’s coworkers, and they were always in the building at the same time. Vernon was pretty sure that Jihoon was, in some shape or form, his boss. Some type of station management, anyway; he was older than Vernon was, and had worked there for longer. He also knew a lot about music, and while Vernon had never hung out with Jihoon outside of them seeing each other at the radio station, Vernon did consider them to be friends; Jihoon was pretty chill, and liked to let Vernon help every once and awhile on whatever new piece of music he was throwing together. Vernon didn’t really write his own music, but seeing Jihoon do it for his Music Theory major was always cool to watch. “Tunes is stupid, so it was funny.” 

Chan, who had been mouthing the word “tunes” to himself, capped the ballpoint pen he’d been using to--well, Vernon wasn’t sure what he was using it for, but it did sort of look like he’d been taking notes--and glanced down at his lap.

“It was cool, you mean.” Vernon corrected with a smile, while Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I did it, so it’s cool.” 

“That’s the criteria we’re basing ‘cool’ on now?” Jihoon gave an exhale through his nose, looking highly unimpressed. “Lame.” 

“Yes. Having braces in high school is now cool. Breaking your ankle while doing the Shoot is cool. Being bi--well that was always cool.” 

“Is wearing two different types of tie-dye cool?” Chan asked, pointing to Vernon’s outfit. He did have on two different types of tie-dye, but it hadn’t been intentional; the tie-dye t-shirt was just one of many that he owned, and his rainbow tie-dye hoodie was one he wore so often that he hadn’t thought twice about grabbing it from the foot of his bed and tugging it on. He probably needed to throw it in the wash, honestly. 

“That’s chill, actually.” He corrected, and Jihoon laughed. 

“How cool is it to get rushed to the medical center on campus at two in the morning because--what was it you said happened? Your friend’s roommate kicked you in the back of the head?” Jihoon asked, still laughing. Before Vernon could defend himself for that event--because yes, it had happened, and he’d almost broken his nose, but it wasn’t his fault that Mingyu’s roommate Seungcheol was just one big, protein-shake-filled muscle--the song ended, and he was back on the air.

“Our time together is almost up, so it’s time for my favorite thing: One Small Happiness. First, I’ll share something that happened today that made me smile, and then I’ll take one caller to share their smile, too.”

This “One Small Happiness” really was Vernon’s favorite segment, for a couple of reasons. The first thing he liked about the segment was the way it made him look over his day, made him find a small happiness in it, because regardless of how awful the day might have gone, there was always something, always one thing that he could smile about, and that was nice to take stock of. 

“This morning, I was eating a chocolate croissant on my way to class--which was delicious, first of all, so I could just count that, but I want everyone to know--I saw a duck today. On my way to class. It was cool.” 

He tacked the last bit on just to watch Jihoon and Chan struggle to hold in laughter, rewarded greatly by watching Jihoon’s face scrunch up as he put a hand over his mouth and slumped out of his chair. 

“I will now be taking a caller to share One Small Happiness!” 

The second thing Vernon liked about the segment was talking to the show’s listeners. He wasn’t popular or anything, but it was still nice to have a short conversation with someone he knew was probably similar to himself, in music taste if nothing else, and hearing about the happiness of others really did make him happy too. He was already smiling as the call connected.

“Hello, you’re on the air. What made you smile today?” 

“You playing Raina on the radio, for one,” came a voice, and Vernon couldn’t help but smile wider, not even needing to look over to know that Jihoon was rolling his eyes. “Maybe your music taste is getting better. You’d better not come back on Monday with Loopy, or something. I only know what name because of you, by the way.” 

“You’re welcome.” Vernon said. “Loopy is cool.” Then, when the smile in his voice had become too much to ignore, and he knew it, and he didn’t even care-- “Hi, Seungkwan.”

The third thing Vernon liked about the segment was Seungkwan. Seungkwan was a frequent call-in to the show, someone Vernon had come to recognize, someone who was obviously a frequent listener, despite how often he would insult--playfully, but still--Vernon’s favorite music. Vernon didn’t know Seungkwan personally, with no idea who he was or what he looked like, but liked him anyway; Seungkwan was excellent on the air, never quiet or awkward, always snapping back at Vernon in the funniest ways. 

It was usually frowned upon to let the same caller on the radio multiple times, but everyone else seemed to like Seungkwan, too; there was always a small spike in listeners when Seungkwan had called in, and they’d gotten multiple requests from Twitter to get Seungkwan in as a regular. 

“Hi, you.” Seungkwan responded, the informal language making Vernon laugh. “If a duck really is the coolest thing that happened to you today, you need better friends.” 

“I have awesome friends!” Vernon exclaimed. Jihoon still hadn’t gotten up from the floor. “What happy thing happened to you today? Did you do something with your friends?” 

“My friends are weirdos.” Seungkwan’s tone had gone airy and flippant. “But I was singing while doing my homework, and I found out that I know every word to every track on Son Dambi’s Back to Eighties album, so that was fun for me.”

“Oh, nice!” Vernon was well aware by now that Seungkwan’s favorite music was pop, usually songs done by female artists or groups. “That’s always fun.”

“And then after that victory, I tuned in to your show, and you were over here playing Verbal Jint.”

“Verbal Jint is awesome!” Vernon exclaimed. That jab did actually hurt a little bit, and Jihoon obviously agreed, getting to his feet with his mouth open in indignation. 

“Yes, he did a lot for the Korean music scene, but his collaboration with Taeyeon is still the best thing he’s ever done.” 

“What, I? He was barely in that song.”

“Your point?” 

Seungkwan’s voice was so flat that Vernon couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted to continue the debate, but unfortunately, they were already out of time to talk. He always ran out of time too quickly when talking to Seungkwan.

“Well, congratulations on your Son Dambi victory.” Vernon said, and the call disconnected. “Just for you, our last song of the day will be something a little special.” 

He didn’t have the song prepared, having to find it and connect it to the broadcast manually, but it was worth the shocked looks on Jihoon and Chan’s faces when Son Dambi’s Queen started blasting over the radio. 

“Really?” Jihoon was still in disbelief as they were packing up to leave, Vernon, Jihoon, and Chan all walking out of the radio room together. The sun had gone down a couple of hours ago, but Vernon had eaten before his broadcast started, so all that was left was to go back to his dorm.

“What?” Vernon asked back. 

“You won’t play Bruno Mars for me--an artist that I know you like--but Son Dambi? Queen? Really?”

“It was funny.” Vernon told him. “Besides, it’s kind of the only Son Dambi song I know, anyway. I bet he liked it.” 

“He liked it.” Jihoon repeated. Chan seemed extremely content to just watch Jihoon’s incredulity. “You’re whipped. Completely. I can’t believe you have a crush on someone that doesn’t appreciate Verbal Jint.”

“I don’t even know him.” Vernon countered. 

“Doesn’t matter. You like him.” 

“I like his voice.” Vernon conceded, because he knew he was bad at lying. “And I mean… I guess I kind of like it when he teases me, but that doesn’t mean that I like him, you know?” 

“You like it. When he teases you.” Jihoon’s skeptical eyebrow raise was back. “Kinky.” 

“Hey!” Vernon yelped, Chan busting out laughing, but they’d already reached the crossroads where Jihoon split from them to go towards his apartment, and Jihoon was already walking away, waving a goodbye over his head without looking back. 

When Vernon returned to his dorm room his roommate Minghao was there, sprawled out in the middle of the floor, a sketchbook a few feet away. He was laying on his front, his arms outstretched, his pencil just barely touching the paper. Vernon couldn’t tell if the pose was dramatic, lazy, or a new “method” Minghao was trying. Honestly, it could be anything. 

“Sup, Haowski.” Vernon greeted, dropping his backpack onto his bed. Without even turning to look, Minghao threw his pencil at Vernon. It didn’t hit him, but it was close, Vernon laughing as he dodged out of the way. 

“That was gross.” Minghao said. Then he flipped over, lying on his back, waving a bit in greeting. Vernon waved back. “Never call me that again.” 

He looked slightly annoyed, but Vernon could tell that it wasn't because of the greeting. After rooming with Minghao for the past three semesters, Vernon had learned that Minghao was very expressive, and had spent the last year learning what his expressions meant. The sharpness his face was holding now, despite having no other context, told Vernon that something was bothering his friend. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sitting on his bed. “Did something happen today?”

Minghao didn’t ask how Vernon knew, crawling across the floor instead to get his pencil back. For a moment, Vernon thought Minghao wasn’t going to answer him, deciding not to push the issue as he watched Minghao go back to sketching. Then Minghao let out a dramatically loud sigh and flopped onto his back again. 

“Condom Guy!” He exclaimed, and Vernon burst out laughing. He fell back on his bed, hitting his head against the wall, and that made Minghao laugh back. 

“Ah--what happened? What happened with Condom Guy?” Vernon asked, and Minghao let out another long-suffering sigh. 

Minghao had a job with the university’s Health Services department. Part of Vernon felt that Minghao had gotten the job just to pretend he had authority when he told Vernon not to drink cold water, or tried to make Vernon to eat some weird super fruit that was “good for his health”, but honestly the job seemed pretty easy. Minghao was just made to sit behind the Health Services desk and give people pamphlets about the dangers of stress and the benefits of safe sex. Then Condom Guy began showing up. 

“Can’t he take more than one?” Minghao exploded, gesturing widely with his hands, and Vernon began laughing again. “There’s no ‘maximum of two’ sign. He’ll be back in like… Three days. A week at most! Why does he only take one condom?”

Condom Guy was what Minghao had started calling a student that would come into the Health Services building every couple of days to take advantage of the bowl of free condoms they had out on display. Because of the whole safe sex thing, Vernon presumed. 

“And like--” Minghao sat up fast. “Does he need to?”

“Need to what?” Vernon asked, still incredibly amused. “Get condoms?”

Minghao blew his bangs out of his eyes, the annoyed expression on his face again.

“Like, he’s handsome, but does he really need to look me in the eye when he reaches into the bowl? I already know he has an absolutely insane sex life. He doesn’t need to rub it in.” 

Vernon clutched at his sides, able to feel his eyes watering from laughing, and Minghao reached his foot out to give Vernon a light kick in the leg. 

“I’m glad my distress amuses you.” He said dryly, prompting Vernon up into a sitting position. 

“Come on, it is funny.” Vernon told him. “If the guy starts talking to you, that’s when I’ll worry. But you? You can beat up anyone.” 

“Okay, that is true.” Minghao admitted after a moment, the lack of humility making Vernon laugh again. 

“Besides, you always say how handsome he is.” Vernon pointed out. “Every single time you bring him up, you have to comment on how his face looks. And that it looks good, apparently.” 

Minghao let out a snort, repositioning himself all star-fished on the floor and pressing the tip of his pencil back onto the paper of his sketchbook. 

“I don’t.” 

“Like two seconds ago, you literally said ‘he’s handsome, but’--” Before Vernon could finish the sentence, Minghao’s pencil was hurtling towards his head again, Vernon letting out a wild giggle as he ducked out of harm’s way. 

“You can shut up.” Minghao told him. “I give you express permission to close your mouth forever. You’re welcome.” 

“Thanks.” Vernon said. The single word had Minghao looking disapprovingly down at him over the frames of the fake glasses he had perched on the tip of his nose, so Vernon mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key instead.

“Better.” Minghao allotted. “Now give me my pencil back. And then start doing your homework, so I can stare at you. I need to sketch you.” 

“Your sketches never look anything like me.” Vernon complained, but did as Minghao requested, mostly because he did have homework he really needed to get done, and it was easier to focus when he couldn’t leave his desk chair without Minghao snapping at him. Part of Vernon had a suspicion that Minghao only did it because he knew that it helped Vernon out, and he appreciated it, though he knew Minghao would probably never admit it to be true. He just pulled his books out, a grin on his face, and got started.

At first, the creative block was just annoying, like all creative blocks were. After a couple of weeks had passed, it had graduated from annoying to upsetting, Jihoon staring down at the empty page of his composition notebook and willing his brain to think of something, anything, that he could write down. Now, Jihoon was glaring at the five lines he had managed to force onto the page, and rage was curling in his stomach. 

“Hey,” he started, Wonwoo not pausing his Playstation game or even glancing over, simply leaning slightly in anticipation of the question Jihoon was about to ask, comfortable enough to place himself just inside Jihoon’s space without getting too close. “What’s it like to not want to kill a man?” 

Wonwoo shrugged. “I don’t know. Boring, I guess.” 

On a normal day, that would have made Jihoon laugh. But he was working on a song for a prestigious composition competition, and was supposed to have been working on this song for the past five weeks, and had gotten absolutely nowhere. He would strangle someone, anyone, if that meant squeezing out even a single spark of creativity. It was probably good that Soonyoung was down at the laundromat right now, and not in the apartment with himself, Wonwoo, and Junhui. 

“MOON JUNHWI!” 

The shout was muffled, far off, and speak of the goddamn devil, it was Soonyoung. Unlike Wonwoo, Junhui did look up upon being addressed, watching the apartment’s front door. The three of them were treated to the distinct sound of Soonyoung stomping up the stairs and then he was in the room, bursting through the door, an overflowing basket of laundry in his arms.

“Hey.” Wonwoo greeted, pausing his game and waving, but he was thoroughly ignored. 

“I’ve asked you nicely!” Soonyoung was directing his full attention at Junhui, who was just looking back. “I’ve asked you rudely! I’m done asking!”

Soonyoung threw down his basket of laundry, a few of Jihoon’s shirts bouncing out onto the floor. At least they were folded. Soonyoung had knocked over the tower in an extremely high-stakes game of Truth or Dare Jenga a couple of weeks back, and had been charged with doing everyone in the apartment’s laundry for the next two months. For the most part, Soonyoung didn’t complain--he had lost fair and square, and he admitted that--but a recent problem had popped up with Junhui, and Jihoon already knew what this was about, and was already pursing his lips in an attempt to hold in a laugh. 

“What?” Junhui asked, his expression so innocent that Wonwoo snorted out a giggle next to him on the couch. 

“Why. Do you keep. Leaving unopened condoms in your pockets?!” Soonyoung exploded. “Take them out! Take them out of your pockets! I am not going fish through your jeans to find them, but do you know how weird I look just grabbing the handful of condoms that are left in the bottom of the dryer?!” 

To prove his point, Soonyoung dug into his pants pocket, grabbed what had to be at least seven unopened condoms, and threw them at Junhui. Junhui let them fall into his lap.

“How do you know that it’s me?” Junhui asked back. 

“It has to be you!” Soonyoung exclaimed. “We know that it’s you. Jihoon is a hermit--”

“Thanks.” Jihoon said, Wonwoo choking back another laugh.

“--and Wonwoo doesn’t think that anyone is sexy--”

“Hey, I think that people are sexy.” Wonwoo countered. “I just don’t want to have sex with them.” 

“--and it’s not me. So it’s you! These are yours!” Soonyoung pulled two more condoms out of his pocket and hurled them at Junhui too, but he dodged those. “You don’t even have a sex life Junhwi, so I don’t know why--”

Soonyoung’s voice died in his throat as Junhui pulled another condom from his jeans and placed it on the coffee table between them, not breaking eye contact with Soonyoung. Jihoon didn’t know what was funnier: Soonyoung’s horrified vindication or Junhui’s absolutely deadpan face, unable to control how loudly the laugh burst from his mouth. 

“Why?” Soonyoung yelled.

“Perfect.” Wonwoo said. “Here, Soonyoung. This one is probably safe to use.” He chucked it in Soonyoung’s direction. “So use it when you finally do something about that pathetic little crush you have.” 

Though he was already laughing, Jihoon was near-sure that those words would kill him, leaning hard into Wonwoo’s side in an effort not to fall off the couch. 

“I don’t--you--” Soonyoung had caught the condom, and nobody missed him slipping it into his palm. “I don’t need to take this abuse from you people. All of you are animals.” 

Junhui growled back at him, curling his hands into claws.

“Don’t!” Soonyoung shouted at him, then turned from the room and was gone. Jihoon slid completely onto the floor. 

By the time Jihoon could breathe again, Wonwoo had gone back to playing his game and Junhui was sitting on the floor, separating out the clean laundry by who owned it. Jihoon thanked Junhui and put his share of clothes away, reentering the living room to find only Wonwoo left, engrossed in his game again.

“Where did Jun go?”

“Soonyoung’s room.”

With the idiocy gone and the room quiet, Jihoon was forced to refocus on the notebook in his lap. 

“So, what’s wrong with it?” Wonwoo asked after a couple of moments, nodding his head towards Jihoon’s notebook. “Why do you hate it so much?” 

“I just have no inspiration.” Jihoon answered. “I can’t think of anything. Nothing that fits, anyway, because…” 

The competition he was submitting the piece to had the potential to turn into a bit of a freelancing job, if the song got first, if it filled the need the people were looking for, if it best fit the prompt. Maybe he was just nervous, but that hadn’t gotten in his way this badly before. 

“So you need some inspiration?” Wonwoo asked, and Jihoon shrugged. Inspiration would be a start. “Maybe you should try going somewhere.”

“Going somewhere?” Jihoon echoed. 

“You know.” Wonwoo leaned towards him, as though to bump shoulders, and Jihoon leaned away. “Stretching your legs. Breathing some fresh air.” 

“But I don’t like fresh air.” Jihoon complained, and Wonwoo laughed a little.

“You don’t have to sit outside. You could go to the library.” 

Jihoon didn’t think it would probably be very smart to try and compose music in a library, a place that was supposed to be silent at all times, but he knew that Wonwoo was genuinely trying to help, and didn’t want to try and shoot him down too hard.

“Okay.” He said instead.

“I’m serious.” Wonwoo insisted, and maybe Jihoon hadn’t been as discrete with his skepticism as he thought. “A change of scenery. It’ll help, I promise you.” 

“Alright.” Jihoon was already regretting agreeing, knowing that Wonwoo would hold him to his word. “I will.” 

Junhui never reappeared from Soonyoung’s room, Jihoon guessing that somewhere in the two of them hanging out, they’d fallen asleep. Once midnight hit, Wonwoo turned his game off and declared that he was going to bed, asking if Jihoon was turning in too. 

“Nah.” He didn’t have any early classes the next day, so staying up wouldn’t hurt. “I think I want to wrestle with this a little bit more.” 

Wonwoo just shrugged, and went to bed. Jihoon stayed up for two more frustrating hours before realizing he’d scratched out nearly everything he’d written and throwing in the towel. It was annoying, that mood carrying on even after he’d woken up, dragging himself out of bed and down the street for coffee. The cafe he was going to wasn’t the cheapest, or the closest place by campus, but Soonyoung was the shift manager and, more importantly, Joshua Hong worked there. 

Joshua was someone Jihoon had met through the classes they were taking, both of them majoring in Music Theory. Joshua had approached Jihoon first, and was relatively easy-going and easy to talk to, so Jihoon talked to him, and they’d sort of become friends. At the end of the previous year, in desperation, Joshua had asked for Jihoon’s help on the composition they had to write for the class’s last assignment, evaluated like a final exam, something the overall grade was heavily dependent on. Jihoon agreed to help him, and the resulting composition had raised Joshua’s final grade by nearly ten points, so now Joshua gave Jihoon free coffee from the cafe that he worked at. 

Coffee wasn’t Jihoon’s usual caffeinated beverage of choice, so he didn’t drink it too often, and usually didn’t even come to the cafe unless he knew Soonyoung would be working. But he’d been in the mood for something warm, not thinking too much about how he didn’t really recognize any of the baristas behind the counter as his order was prepared. When the drink was ready and Jihoon grabbed at it though, the barista didn’t let go of the cup. 

“That’ll be seven thousand won.” He said. Jihoon blinked at him, unsure of what to do. 

“...okay?” He asked, and the barista stared at him. Jihoon stared back, and the barista’s face--a stupidly handsome face on a man that was too stupidly tall--broke out into a smile. A smile that, while trying very hard to look friendly, was slightly condescending. It was the epitome of a polite customer service face. 

“Seven. Thousand. That’s how much this coffee costs.” He said, slower this time, and Jihoon realized that the barista expected him to pay.

“Oh, no. I’m Lee Jihoon.”

The man stared again, his smile a little tighter.  

“Okay Lee Jihoon, that’ll be seven thousand won.”

Jihoon wasn’t in the mood for this to be a problem, wasn’t in the mood to put up a fight, but he and Joshua had made a deal. That, and Jihoon hadn’t brought his wallet with him. Because he was stupid, he supposed. 

“When did you start working here?” Jihoon decided to ask, and the barista--Mingyu, his name tag said Mingyu--shrugged a little. 

“Beginning of the semester, I guess. What does that have to do with your coffee?”

“Can I talk to your shift manager?” Jihoon hoped against hope that Soonyoung was here, just hiding in the back somewhere. Soonyoung knew about his arrangement with Joshua; Soonyoung could vouch for him.  

“Seriously?” Mingyu’s customer service facade was fading. He looked a little angry. It was kind of sexy, actually. 

“Just--is he here?”

“No. He isn’t.”

“And Joshua Hong isn’t here either?”

Mingyu made a bit of a face, leaning in close. His hand slid down the side of the cup as he did, the side of his pinky touching Jihoon’s pointer finger. 

“Listen.” He said, his voice lower. People this attractive did not work at coffee shops, Jihoon found himself thinking. “I’m sure that face you’re making works most of the time, and you look exactly like the kind of guy that I would just love to give free coffee to, but I seriously can’t. I got told off last week for giving away too many cookies, and this is over five thousand, really, just--”

Jihoon jolted back, feeling his ears burn. 

“No, I--” Flustered, mildly offended, and annoyed at how long this was taking, Jihoon pulled his phone out. He called Joshua’s number, putting his cell on the counter and pressing the “speaker” button so Mingyu could both see and hear it.

“Hello?” Joshua asked, sounding like he’d just woken up, but Jihoon didn’t really have the patience for sympathy. 

“Joshua. Tell this ‘Mingyu’ that I get free coffee.”

“What?” Joshua’s voice was full of surprise. “I--”

He sounded caught off guard, and Jihoon didn’t blame him, but this wasn’t the steadfast defense he’d been looking for. He’d been wanting “Yes, Mingyu. Give him the free coffee, Mingyu. Jihoon is right and you’re wrong, Mingyu.” Instead, Joshua was just floundering a bit. 

“Hi Joshua.” Mingyu said, leaning in towards the phone. People in line behind them--because by now, a considerable line had formed--were all staring. “I have a customer here that’s refusing to pay for his coffee. He’s already asked for Soonyoung.” 

“Oh, okay, I… Hi Mingyu. Um, just--” There was a strange, rustling type of noise, then Joshua came back to the receiver, slightly hushed. “Just buy the coffee for him? Please? I’ll pay you back.”

“...what?” Mingyu asked, and Jihoon couldn’t hold in a grin at the disbelief in Mingyu’s voice. 

“Jihoon, he… He gets free coffee.” Joshua said. “Soonyoung knows about it. I promise I’ll pay you back.” 

“I’m supposed to just buy this for him?” Mingyu asked. 

“Yeah. I’ll tell you about it later, Mingyu.”

“Thanks, Joshua.” Jihoon hung up his phone and pocketed it, and a small, unfairly vindictive part of him enjoyed watching Mingyu pull his wallet out. 

“Sorry for the wait.” Mingyu said when it had all been done, pocketing Jihoon’s receipt and pushing the coffee a little closer towards Jihoon across the counter. Jihoon took it, glancing Mingyu’s way as he put the straw in his mouth and took a quick drink. At least it was still warm. Mingyu was staring at him. 

“It’s fine.” He said. “Just remember my name next time.” 

Walking out felt like a bit of a victory, though it really wasn’t one, Jihoon taking a moment to just sip on his drink, his steps slow as he waited for the caffeine to hit him. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, assuming it was Joshua. It wasn’t, it was just Soonyoung, sending him an appallingly long string of tiger emojis--completely unprovoked, this had to be a hate crime--but the message was forgotten as his eyes caught on the time being displayed on his lock screen. He was late for class. Cursing, Jihoon began walking a little faster, deciding he was blaming this on Kim Mingyu. 

“And then he--he put the straw in his mouth, and he looked at me--he had to look up at me, because he was so much shorter than me that I actually want to cry a little--and he had this grin on his face and the straw between his teeth he said ‘it’s fine. Just remember my name next time’.” 

Mingyu did look like he actually wanted to cry a little, Seungcheol watching as Minghao raised an eyebrow. 

“And then what? You popped a boner or something?” 

Mingyu didn’t answer, but the sudden avoidance of eye contact and the slight squirming he did in the restaurant booth answered the question for him. Judging by the sharp movement of Minghao’s shoulders and the yelp of pain Mingyu gave a second later, Seungcheol guessed that Minghao had just kicked him under the table.

“You’re gross.” Minghao told him.

“Hey, you asked!” Mingyu whined, reaching down to rub at his shin, and Vernon burst into a laugh. The four of them--Seungcheol, his roommate Mingyu, and their two friends, Minghao and Vernon--were eating dinner at a restaurant. The outing was a bit of a celebration; Minghao had just gotten the results back for a photography contest he’d entered a couple of months ago, where he’d used Mingyu as a model. Seungcheol was not at all surprised that Minghao had won first place--his eye for angles and colors was incredible, something Seungcheol didn’t think he would ever understand--though Mingyu was having the time of his life declaring that he had an award-winning face.

However, since the four of them were broke college students with minimum wage jobs, they were at the small restaurant near campus where they always ate out at, and Minghao was treating them with his prize money, and they were splitting a dessert. But still; it was a celebration anyway, Seungcheol making sure he brought up a toast to Minghao’s success every fifteen minutes or so.

“So?” Vernon asked, bringing his drink up to his mouth. “What’s his name?” 

“I still can’t believe you just bought the coffee for him.” Seungcheol said. 

“Joshua told me to!” Mingyu defended. “And he did pay me back when he came in for his shift. But the name… It’s Lee Jihoon.” 

Vernon choked on a mouthful of Coca-Cola. 

“You said Lee Jihoon?” He asked, once he was able to breathe again. “And he’s short?” 

“...yes?” 

“Dark hair? Kind of like this?” Vernon made a gesture around his head that none of them could decipher, and after a few moments of staring at him, Mingyu pulled his phone out.

“Well, Joshua was telling me a little bit about him, and apparently he’s Soonyoung’s roommate or something, so I looked at Soonyoung’s instagram and Soonyoung is following him. Here’s a picture.” 

After nearly being dropped into his food, Mingyu’s phone made it safely to Vernon’s hands and was passed around the table. It was a cute picture, Seungcheol had to admit, some guy in a black shirt and a ball cap, holding a pretty guitar, the body of the instrument covering his left cheek. 

“That’s Jihoon.” Vernon said.

“Yeah, I know.” Mingyu answered. “I’m the one that told you that.” 

“No, Jihoon.” Vernon said again. “Like… The guy at the radio that I work with? I’ve talked about him before.” 

“Oh.” Minghao seemed to know who Vernon was talking about, but Seungcheol was distracted by the fact that this guy looked familiar to him, too. 

“He goes to the gym sometimes.” He said. “I've seen him there once or twice.”

“Is he buff?” Minghao asked. 

“His arms aren’t exactly like mine, but they’re close.” Seungcheol conceded with a nod, and Mingyu let out a bit of a whine and let his whole body slump back against the bench.

Seungcheol was a Physiology major, focused more on exercise and sports medicine, so he knew the faces of just about everyone that went to the campus gym. While he was in his last year at school, he still lived in the dorms, getting free housing for his job as an RA, which he’d held for the past two years. Housing management liked him because he was good at his job, strict enough with the rules without being mean. Mingyu, Minghao, and Vernon liked him because he’d found out how good of a cook Mingyu was, and allowed Mingyu to keep some contraband items that weren’t allowed in student housing--like a portable stove top and a Cutco knife set--in exchange for delicious meals. It was a bit of a gamble, but Mingyu’s food was too good and he hadn’t been found out yet, so he figured it was fine.

“Oh, Seungcheol.” Minghao was grinning a bit, something sly about the smile. “Please take a picture of him next time you see him.” 

“You want me to--to take a picture of him working out?” Seungcheol squawked, once the sentence actually sunk in. “That’s so weird, why?” 

“If Mingyu is this hopeless over watching this guy drink out of a straw, just imagine what he would do for you if you were dangling a sweaty, sleeveless gym photo over his head.” Minghao said, and Vernon burst out laughing again.

“Shut up.” Mingyu mumbled, his face now in his hands.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him in a sleeveless shirt.” Vernon said, once he’d finished laughing. “He sometimes wears pretty short shorts, though.”

Mingyu whined again. 

“I’m not going to take pictures of people in the gym!” Seungcheol exclaimed, able to feel his ears burning. “That’s creepy.” 

“Maybe it’s less creepy if you ask him first?” Vernon proposed.

“Everything about this scenario is creepy.” Seungcheol said, incredulous. “How is it less creepy to ask?”

“Depends on what you’re asking for.” Came a voice behind them, Seungcheol’s heart leaping in his chest as he turned. He already knew who was there, recognizing the voice, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the grin that was playing on Jeonghan’s lips as he approached their table. He had on the restaurant’s uniform: a white dress shirt, black pants, and a little red apron tied around his waist. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and his nametag was pinned to his shirt. 

“Jeonghan!” Mingyu exclaimed happily. Seungcheol only knew Jeonghan due to how often they frequented the restaurant, but Mingyu knew Jeonghan a little bit better; Jeonghan was also a student, and both he and Mingyu were in the same club or something. 

“I was coming to ask how your meal was going, but this conversation seems much more interesting.” Jeonghan was suddenly sliding into the booth next to Seungcheol, squeezing in to sit down, the entirety of his thigh pressing against Seungcheol’s, his face close. He was even closer when he turned to look at Seungcheol, still smiling. “So, what is it that you’re being a creep about?” 

“Nothing!” Seungcheol exclaimed defensively, and Jeonghan began to giggle.

“Jeonghan…” Mingyu whined, exaggerated as he reached across Seungcheol to touch one of Jeonghan’s hands. “I met an angel today.” 

“An angel? I thought he was rude to you.” Minghao asked, just as Jeonghan said, “I thought I was your angel.” 

“Okay then, an angel with no wings.” Mingyu amended, completely ignoring Minghao’s statement. 

“So like… A person?” Vernon asked. Undeterred, Mingyu told the story of meeting Jihoon again. Jeonghan was very supportive of the whole thing, obviously the audience that Mingyu had wanted for the story, lamenting and exclaiming and wishing that he’d been there to see it all. There was laughter at the end of Mingyu’s story, and Jeonghan did a slight collapse as he laughed, leaning a little bit onto Seungcheol’s shoulder. 

“Don’t you need to work?” Seungcheol asked, the question out of his mouth before he could stop it. Jeonghan was just so close to him, and his skin looked so smooth and his hair looked so soft. Jeonghan glanced at him again, his face a little surprised. 

“I mean, I’d rather be sitting next to you.” He said, a playful lilt to his voice as he bumped his shoulder against Seungcheol’s own. Seungcheol didn’t know what to say, feeling unable to speak for reasons he couldn’t pin down, and at his silence Jeonghan leaned away instead, huffing out a sigh that had his cheeks puffing up. “Besides, Wednesdays are so slow.” 

“You should just come work at the cafe with us!” Mingyu said, easily excited by the idea. “It would be so much fun.” 

“It would be fun, but the tips I get here are what make the work worthwhile.” Jeonghan said, winking at Mingyu as he got to his feet. “So you guys had better leave me a nice one.” 

Then he was gone, whisking himself away as suddenly as he’d arrived, and Seungcheol watched him go. Mingyu, Minghao, and Vernon all rounded on him at once. 

“Your face is so red. It’s been red the whole time.” Mingyu informed him. “I thought that stream was going to come out of your ears.”

Seungcheol’s cheeks burned. 

“I’m not blushing.” He lied, and Vernon laughed again. 

“So what, you’re going into heat stroke?” Minghao asked. “You can have a crush on the cute waiter, Seungcheol. It’s okay. He’s not my type, but I get it.” 

Mingyu and Vernon nodded in agreement, and the support would have felt nice, if Seungcheol had wanted it. Jeonghan’s interactions with him did feel a little bit flirtatious, sure, but part of Jeonghan’s income depended on people liking him; he was probably just a little bit flirtatious with everybody. Seungcheol couldn’t let himself think that he was anyone special. 

“I don’t like him, okay? I don’t.” 

“Yes, you do.” Mingyu said, equal parts gentle and teasing. 

“I don’t!”

It was true. Seungcheol didn’t like Jeonghan. He didn’t like Jeonghan, and felt like he couldn’t, not really, because he didn’t know Jeonghan. 

He thought Jeonghan was pretty, almost too pretty to be an actual person, the angel jokes he’d make a little too plausible for Seungcheol to really laugh at. He knew, from things like captions on his instagram posts, that Jeonghan also only had a year of school left, and that he was an Advertising major, and that he rented an apartment with Mingyu’s coworker Joshua. 

But he didn’t know Jeonghan’s favorite song, or whether or not he was a morning person, or if he preferred cats to dogs. He didn’t know any of Jeonghan’s hobbies or interests, aside from him being on the university’s tennis team. He didn’t know anything about what made Jeonghan who he was, so he couldn’t say he really liked Jeonghan past thinking he was handsome, despite Mingyu’s reassurances that he was a nice person. 

“I support you.” Minghao was still teasing, but Minghao was in a good mood from his contest win and was feeling a bit tipsy, so Seungcheol figured the good natured jabs were to be expected, at least a little. “And hey, just say the word and I’ll grab you a handful of condoms from the health services desk. Those things are free.”

“Can we go back to making fun of Mingyu?” Seungcheol asked weakly. Seungcheol wanted to learn all of those things about Jeonghan, but they’d never once crossed paths on campus, and it felt wrong and almost a little predatory to try talking to Jeonghan while he was working, or to even ask for his number while he was working so they could talk some other time. So Seungcheol just tried his best not to stare, and left tips that often totaled to the entire amount of cash he had in his wallet at the time. 

And tonight was no different when Minghao declared the meal over, Seungcheol pulling his wallet out of his back pocket as they all got to their feet. Minghao swatted at his hands, insisting that he was paying and pulling out his debit card. And Seungcheol let him pay for the meal, but he swiped the pen from the check holder, hanging back for just a moment as his friends began walking towards the door, grabbing an unused napkin from the middle of the table. 

He had a hard time thinking of what to write, not wanting to embarrass himself too much, finally scribbling out I hope your slow Wednesday ends well and folding the napkin in half, sticking the bills inside of it so they stuck out both ends. Then he hurried to catch up with his friends, Jeonghan calling out a farewell and waving cheerily to them as they walked out into the night. 

Minghao had an arm slung around Vernon’s neck, a happy smile on his face as he declared loudly that he was an artist. Thankfully, they had gone back to teasing Mingyu, who was despairing about the lack of selfies on Lee Jihoon’s instagram, wondering if he should follow him or not, asking them all if they thought Jihoon would follow him back, and if the selfies he’d posted were hot enough. 

“I’m sure he’ll follow you back.” Vernon said kindly, while Minghao snorted. 

“Mingyu, there’s a picture of you on there in your leather pants. Either he’ll follow you back, or he’s straight.” 

“Oh no. Vernon, is he?” Mingyu turned to Vernon in despair, Seungcheol unable not to laugh at the expression on his face. It looked like Mingyu hadn’t once considered that to be a possibility. 

“I don’t know.” Vernon shrugged. “He doesn’t really talk about stuff like that.” 

“Wait, there are pictures of me with Chaeyeon on here!” Mingyu’s despair only seemed to grow, though Seungcheol knew that Mingyu also had a tendency to lean towards dramatics, so he wasn’t that worried about him actually being upset. “What if he thinks I’m straight?”

“Mingyu.” Minghao’s voice was flat now. “There’s a picture of you on there in your leather pants.”

Those words nearly knocked Seungcheol out, still giggling a bit as they entered their dorm, he and Mingyu parting ways with Vernon and Minghao to go to their respective rooms. Mingyu was still lamenting about instagram as he flopped onto his bed, Seungcheol doing the same and opening the app up on his phone. The first photo across his feed surprised him: it was the note he’d written, Jeonghan’s pretty fingertips at the bottom of the frame to hold the napkin flat against the wood of the restaurant table. The caption was simple but cute, a response to Seungcheol’s wish for his Wednesday to end well. 

1004_yjh: it did, because of you.

Seungcheol liked the post, not noticing how widely he was smiling until he felt a slight ache in his cheeks. He tapped on Jeonghan’s profile and just scrolled a bit, pausing whenever a picture came up with Jeonghan’s face in it. He would deny it to his friends until he was blue in the face, but he knew that he really was gone for Jeonghan. It just felt dumb to admit, because he’d never had a real conversation with Jeonghan before. He wanted to though, so badly that it hurt. 

“What’re you doing over there?” Mingyu asked, glancing over at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re smiling.” 

“Oh, nothing.” Seungcheol said quickly, backing out of Jeonghan’s profile, feeling flustered. Then, when he realized that Mingyu did not and would not believe him, lied a little. “My brother sent me a text.” 

Mingyu’s eyes went wide, the horror on his face comical as he jumped off his bed and pulled Seungcheol’s phone from his hand. 

“Hey! What--?” 

“Oh good, you’re just on instagram.” Mingyu let out a breath, scrolling around a little before giving Seungcheol his phone back. 

“What the hell?” Seungcheol asked, after staring at Mingyu for a moment. 

“It’s just, if you ever smiled like that at anything your brother did, I would have to call the cops on you. You know, legally.”

Seungcheol decided to kick him. 

“It wasn’t a bad smile!” Mingyu insisted. “Just like… You know, fond. Softly horny.” 

Seungcheol didn’t know what that meant, but decided to kick Mingyu again. Mingyu danced away from him, giggling, so Seungcheol had to go after him to do it, but the room was small and Mingyu was clumsy. When Seungcheol made it back to his phone, he had a new notification. 

Jeonghan had liked one of his posts. It wasn’t one of his more recent ones, either; he would have had to scroll to get to it, but it was one that only had his face in it, making a bit of a dumb expression with a bit of a cheesy caption. A moment later, a comment appeared. 

1004_yjh: cute

“What are you blushing about?” Mingyu asked, his voice heavily accusatory, probably because he was still lying on the floor. Seungcheol threw his pillow at him. 

Seungkwan didn't like Thursdays. There were some good things about it: he was done with classes by three in the afternoon, and it was the day that he and Seokmin ordered themselves food instead of trying to make themselves cook, and Friday was just around the corner, but still. He had classes at eight in the morning on Thursdays, and most of the evaluations in his vocal performance class were on Thursdays, and all of it was stressful. He and Seokmin usually stayed up late to prepare for the evaluations--though usually the late nights were more from nervousness than from a need to actually work on anything--and between the staying up late and the getting up early, Seungkwan usually needed to pick up coffee on his way to the Liberal Arts building, or he would face plant into his desk and doze during his Philosophy class. 

Seokmin was a morning person, and Seungkwan had grown accustomed to his roommate waking him up in the mornings, either on purpose or on accident with how loud he could be while getting ready for class. He'd grown accustomed to not bothering to set an alarm on his phone, knowing Seokmin would have him up with enough time to get ready. But Seokmin had overslept, and as a result Seungkwan had too, and now they were both scrambling around in desperation. 

"Hurry up!" Seungkwan shouted. He had managed to get himself out the door first, and was holding it open for Seokmin to follow. "Hurry, or I'm leaving you!" 

For show, he let the door go, and it started to fall closed. His eyes caught on a neon orange square stuck to the outside of the door and he snatched at it, letting out a curse. One more thing to make Thursday better. 

It was a sticky note, but Seungkwan already knew that. He was sure, too, that he would know what it would say. The writing on it was messy, made with thick marker lines. 

SOME PEOPLE USE WEDNESDAY NIGHTS TO SLEEP. I wrote a note to your RA. This is too much. (P.S. don’t try to sing an Orange Caramel song if you don’t have three people. Raina’s voice is better than yours and you sound sloppy.) 

"Sloppy?!" Seungkwan couldn't help the disbelieving exclamation. "I'll show you sloppy, you won't even--"

The door burst open, Seokmin shouting his name and desperately trying to button his pants at the same time. Thankfully, the door hit Seungkwan in the shoe and not in the face, but it still nearly knocked him on his ass, and he stumbled backwards into the hallway wall. 

"You didn't leave!" Seokmin exclaimed, looking relieved, as though Seungkwan going to his first class without Seokmin would be a devastation he would never recover from. Even though they sat next to each other in that class, and shared a dorm room, and always ate dinner together. Then he noticed Seungkwan had something in his hand. "What's that?" 

"Oh, nothing. We were just loud again." Seungkwan stuffed the note in his pocket. "Come on, we need to go!" 

Seungkwan was on a mission. He was trying to find out who this note-leaver was. At first, it hadn't been a problem; Seungkwan had actually felt bad about it, apologizing to his neighbors and the other people on the floor of the dorm they lived in for him and Seokmin singing too loudly too late into the night. But all of his apologies had been waved off, people telling him that they didn't mind or that the singing didn't bother them, a couple people even saying that they actually liked and appreciated he and Seokmin's voices.

The next note, however, had been a bit rude. And yes, they'd been awake and playing music until nearly four on a Wednesday morning, but the songs had all been ballads, and they'd only been up so late because Seokmin was nervous about the song he had to sing in front of their class and their professor. Their note leaver had said something about Seokmin not sounding good, and it had sent Seokmin into a pit of self-consciousness for two full weeks, and that was when Seungkwan had decided to go on the offensive. Nobody was allowed to come for his friend like that. 

His first assumption was that someone on their floor had lied to his face. He went to every room on their dorm floor individually, interrogating all of them. Not a single person admitted to writing the notes, so he asked permission to dig through their desk drawers. Only a handful of people on their floor even had orange sticky notes and for the ones that did, none of the handwriting matched. He’d hit a bit of a wall for now, but he was still determined. Every note he got plagued him, but he hoped that eventually the note-leaver would say something too revealing, and he would be able to discover their identity. The sticky note person was his sworn enemy, and Seungkwan was determined to catch the culprit before the semester was up. 

Class was grueling, and despite nearly being late to Philosophy because he waited in line for his coffee, he ended up falling asleep in class anyway. But when Philosophy was over, classes for the day were over, Seungkwan waiting for Seokmin to return to their room so they could work on homework together. When it had been nearly an hour since Seokmin's last class had let out and he still wasn't back, Seungkwan decided to give him a call. He answered on the second ring.

"Hey."

"Hi, and also where are you?" Seungkwan asked. "I want to work on homework, and get some food."

There wasn't an invitation anywhere in there, but there was always an invitation for Seokmin when Seungkwan had plans. Seokmin didn't end up answering though, a different voice coming across the line.

"Seungkwan!" Seungkwan should have figured that Seokmin was with Jeonghan. "Do you want to come over? I could help you with your work."

"Okay, sure." Jeonghan was a college senior that Seokmin had inexplicably become very close with after running into him once outside the Athletic Center. Seungkwan liked Jeonghan fine, and loved going to Jeonghan's apartment--Jeonghan's roommate Joshua had put a lot of time and care into making the place look nice--but he didn't like having to walk past the frat houses by himself to get there. When he arrived, backpack on and books in hand, he found his friends on the couch, Jeonghan’s head on Seokmin’s shoulder.

“Everything alright?” Seungkwan asked, taking off his shoes and setting his things down. Jeonghan gave a little shrug, holding out an arm to him, and Seungkwan walked over so Jeonghan could take his hand, giving it a little squeeze before letting him go. 

“He said he was lonely, so I came over.” Seokmin explained. Jeonghan was a little clingy, Seungkwan thought, but Seungkwan knew that he himself was clingy too, so he couldn’t really fault Jeonghan for that. 

“You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” Jeonghan said. “Even Joshua’s stuff. He went to work and left me all alone.”

Seungkwan laughed at that, setting his books out on Jeonghan’s coffee table. Jeonghan did help them and talked with them, but he was quieter than usual, and Seungkwan couldn’t help but ask about it. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Ah, you’re sweet.” Jeonghan told him, before letting out a sigh. “I’m fine, really, I just… I have practice later, and I don’t really want to go.” 

Jeonghan was an all-court player on the university’s tennis team, and had always talked about the sport and practices with fondness until recently. Until a new player had joined the team. 

“Is that guy bothering you again?” Seokmin asked, an angry edge to his voice that Seungkwan had only heard a handful of times over the course of being Seokmin’s friend. 

“Not… I mean, not really. Not any more than usual.” Jeonghan laid his head on Seokmin’s shoulder again. “He hasn’t done anything, but he keeps saying that he will.” 

This new guy was good, very skilled at the sport. He had also, for some reason, taken a particular interest in Jeonghan. It didn’t matter that Jeonghan rejected his advances; he claimed he was going to get into Jeonghan’s pants “no matter what”, a threat that Seungkwan didn’t think Jeonghan was taking seriously enough. 

“Oh come on, I don’t want you guys to worry about him.” Jeonghan said, sitting up straight and hitting Seokmin’s arm with his fingertips in an attempt to lighten the mood. “He’s too much of a coward to touch me. And I already told you; if he tries something, I’ll speak up.” 

“You shouldn’t wait for something bad to happen to speak up, though.” Seungkwan said. “Can’t you talk to the coach?” 

“I don’t want to make the coach choose between him or me.” Jeonghan said. “If it somehow came to that, I… I don’t know, I’d probably quit. I might just quit anyway.” 

“You can’t quit!” Seokmin exclaimed. “You like tennis. You can’t let that idiot win.” 

“But, Seokmin--”

“Promise me you won’t quit.” Seokmin’s face was too serious to let the issue go, and Jeonghan must have understood that, because a moment later he let out another sigh. 

“Fine. I won’t quit.”

“The school has a zero tolerance policy on harassment.” Seungkwan said. “Even if it’s between two male students. I’ll see if there’s something I can do, okay?” 

“Okay.” Jeonghan said, though it did look a bit like he was agreeing just for the sake of dropping the subject. Seungkwan wasn’t going to forget the matter, though; as the head, organizer, and spokesperson for the university’s Pride Club, he had written to the school board before about issues he’d come across, and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. 

The front door opened, Joshua coming in, kicking his shoes off before letting out a long groan, walking straight to the couch and flopping directly on Jeonghan. Jeonghan whined under the extra weight, shoving at him, and before long Joshua was lying on the floor. He didn’t seem to mind though, just rolling onto his back.

“...long day at work?” Seokmin asked after a moment, and Seungkwan and Jeonghan both laughed. 

“Hello, people that do not live here.” He said, Seokmin giving a wave while Seungkwan protested.

“We were invited!” 

“Was work alright?” Jeonghan asked Joshua, and Joshua puffed his cheeks up, letting the breath out slowly. 

“It was fine, really. It was just me and Mingyu for most of my shift, and Mingyu, like… He physically cannot stop talking about this guy he has a crush on. It was a lot for six whole hours.”

Jeonghan laughed a little, reaching down to give Joshua a sympathetic pat on the stomach.  

“Oh, Mingyu likes someone?” Seungkwan asked in interest. He wasn’t particularly close with Mingyu, but liked him a lot; Mingyu was a very active member in the Pride Club. He had excellent ideas for events and poster designs, and was always eager to help out. Seungkwan also knew that Mingyu was both double majoring and double minoring, and between his schoolwork, his extracurriculars, and his job, Seungkwan really had no idea how Mingyu wasn’t dead yet. 

“Yeah. You should text him. He would love to tell you all about it.” Still laying on the floor, Joshua stretched his arms up over his head. “I never actually found out who the guy was, though. Mingyu was too busy about being upset that he was straight.”

“Oh, poor Mingyu.” 

“Yeah. Something about the guy not following him back on instagram.” 

There seemed to be something wrong with the word “instagram”; Seokmin shot Joshua a look, and Jeonghan let out a long-suffering groan and let his upper body fall across the arm of the couch. 

“What?” Joshua asked. Jeonghan responded, the words so muffled by the cushion on the couch armrest that it was completely indecipherable, and it made Joshua start laughing as he asked the question again. “What happened?” 

Jeonghan sat up, pulled out his phone, and scrolled on it for a moment before handing it over. Seungkwan leaned in so he could see too, met with a picture of some guy he didn’t know, the username coups_cheol an unfamiliar one. It was a selfie taken in a mirror, and the guy had dark hair and full lips, his face half covered up by his phone screen. The university gym was behind him, and he was in a tank top, the thin white shirt stuck to his skin with sweat. Joshua let out a loud laugh and double tapped the photo, a heart appearing over it. Seungkwan gasped.

“What? What did you do?” Jeonghan asked, Joshua rolling away from him on the floor, Jeonghan’s phone still in his hands. 

“You hadn’t done it yet, so I liked the picture for you! I’ll leave a comment too--do you want to call him ‘sir’, or ‘daddy’?” 

Jeonghan yelled a curse, jumping off the couch to pounce on Joshua. It was the fastest Seungkwan had ever seen Jeonghan move in his life, just getting out of the way to watch as they rolled across the floor, Joshua giggling wildly and Jeonghan detailing exactly what it was he was going to do when Joshua’s insides became his outsides. Before long Joshua relented, Jeonghan getting his phone back and sitting next to Seokmin on the couch again. 

“So, who is that guy?” Seungkwan asked. “Do you guys know him?” 

“He’s Mingyu’s roommate.” Joshua explained. “I’ve never talked to him, actually, but…” 

But Jeonghan liked him, Seungkwan assumed. Joshua gestured to Jeonghan, who let out another sigh. 

“He was at the restaurant with his friends last night. He always smiles so much when he’s with his friends. He’s so…”

“Cute?” Seokmin offered. Seungkwan had an idea that the sweet word wasn’t exactly the one that Jeonghan had in mind, with the way he was leaning back against the couch, his eyes closed. 

“If his smile makes you feel like that, imagine what his dick could do.” Joshua said, Seungkwan yelping, Seokmin laughing, Jeonghan throwing a couch cushion at Joshua’s face.

“I’m going to put spiders in your bed.” Jeonghan told him, and Joshua just got to his feet, still laughing, going to the apartment’s little kitchen in search of food. 

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Seokmin asked, and Jeonghan replaced his head on Seokmin’s shoulder. 

“He doesn’t like me.” 

“Yes he does!” Joshua called from the kitchen.

“No he doesn’t!” Jeonghan called back. “I pretty much put myself in his lap yesterday, and he just told me to get back to work.” 

“Okay, but then he left you a thirty thousand won tip, in cash, with a cute note.” Joshua countered. “It’s the perfect gift for you. It’s like he knows you’re a materialistic sentimentalist.” 

“Hey Shua, remember how I said I was putting spiders in your bed?” Jeonghan said, and Joshua just laughed again. “He leaves me notes, but none of them have ever had his phone number on them. We only follow each other on instagram because of Mingyu, and he’s never sent me a private message. He’s never given me his number. He’s not interested.”

“I still think he would say yes, if you asked him out.” Joshua said, but Jeonghan ignored him. Conversation drifted and Seungkwan refocused, finishing up his Statistics homework. He was getting ready to suggest going home--or, at least, getting some dinner--when Joshua took his head out of the refrigerator and peeked into the living room. 

“I had pudding in here. Did someone eat it?”

“I gave it to Seokmin.” Jeonghan said. “He deserved it because he came over to hang out with me after you went to work and left me all alone.”

Seokmin was wearing a rather sheepish grin. “If it makes you feel any better, it was really good.” He said. 

“You know, shockingly, that makes me feel worse.” Joshua answered. “Han, if I help you make more friends, will you stop letting the friends you do have eat my food every time I go to work?” 

“Maybe.” Jeonghan answered begrudgingly. “No promises.”

“Why don’t you come to the next Pride Club meeting?” Seokmin asked. “You’ve been to them before, and you don’t have to be a member to come. Me, Seungkwan, Joshua, and Mingyu will all be there.”

“I have work.” Jeonghan said. 

“I’ll try to bring him to the one after.” Joshua promised. Then, at Jeonghan’s unsure look, “Come on Jeonghan, it’ll be fun.” 

“Fine!” Jeonghan heaved himself to his feet. He sounded a bit reluctant, but Seungkwan knew that it was actually impossible to get Jeonghan to do anything he didn’t want to do, so he wasn’t too worried about Jeonghan feeling forced. “Fine. I’ll go. I’ve got to get ready for practice, though.” 

Seungkwan and Seokmin stayed in Jeonghan and Joshua’s apartment until it was time for Jeonghan to go to practice, the two of them walking with him to the Athletic Center. Seokmin watched him enter the building, worry on his face. 

“That guy had better not do anything to Jeonghan.” He said. “Or else.” 

Seungkwan put a sympathetic hand on Seokmin’s shoulder. “You really aren’t that threatening, you know.” 

“I know. But you’re my best friend.” Seokmin put his hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder in return, their arms overlapping each other. “You’ll just drop kick him for me, right?” 

That had Seungkwan laughing, and they went to get some dinner together. Seungkwan ended up speeding the meal along, wanting to get back to their dorm room in time to tune in to Chilli Sauce, and Seokmin didn’t complain. 

Seungkwan couldn’t explain why he liked the radio show so much, but he knew it wasn’t really for the music, so it had to be the host. He’d never met Vernon, and had only ever seen one picture of Vernon’s face on the Twitter page for the university’s radio, but Seungkwan loved talking to him. It was easy to talk to Vernon. It felt good to talk to Vernon. 

It was nice to just listen to Vernon too, and with how long the day had been, that was all Seungkwan was really in the mood for, not even trying to call in when it was the time on the show where Vernon asked for input from listeners. Seungkwan listened to a girl talk about how she did well on an exam, a smile in Vernon’s voice when he congratulated her, and the show was just about over. 

“Now… This was a little embarrassing.” Vernon said. “A friend of mine was talking about this song earlier today, and it got stuck in my head, so I’m going to play it. It’s a little different from the stuff I usually play on here. And there’s someone that always listens in that once told me this group is his favorite, so consider this dedicated to you, okay?” 

Then Wonder Girls’s Tell Me began to play, and Seungkwan felt his mouth drop open. He told himself that the song wasn’t being dedicated to him, but he did know that he’d told Vernon once or twice when calling in to the show that Wonder Girls were his favorite group, and with how much he loved this song--he’d dressed up as Wonder Woman for Halloween when he was ten because of this song’s music video--all of it felt like a bit too much of a coincidence to ignore. 

Seungkwan listened to the upbeat song, full of lyrics about the excitement of a new love, and couldn’t help but smile, feeling his own heart beat a bit faster in his chest.