Archive of Our Own ^beta

Donghyuck meets the love of his life on a Tuesday.

“Please, Donghyuck,” Mark says, “I’ll make it quick. Ten minutes.”

Donghyuck casts a doubtful glance at the plant store. An orchid smiles back at him from the window.

“...five,” he says reluctantly, and Mark’s shoulders slump in relief. “And I’m not carrying your drink for you.”

“You’re the best,” Mark says, shooting him an apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”

He ducks inside of the store, disappearing from Donghyuck’s view. Donghyuck checks his phone, sighing when he sees that they have fourteen more minutes to make it to class.

A minute passes. Then another. When four minutes pass, Donghyuck sighs, pushing open the door to the store.

The bell jingles when he steps in. The store isn’t big, and he spots Mark fairly easily, somewhere near the back.

“Mark,” he calls out, and watches as his head pops up to look at him. “We gotta go soon, or we’re actually going to be late.”

“Okay,” Mark calls back. “Two minutes!”

“Can I help you?”

Donghyuck spins around, and then he has to stop his jaw from hitting the ground, because standing in front of him is the cutest boy he’s ever seen on campus, possibly ever. Renjun, his name tag says, and Donghyuck decides then and there that Renjun is his Christmas gift come two months and a half early.

It’s definitely love at first sight, Donghyuck thinks dreamily as Renjun talks about plants and more plant-related things, nodding along to whatever he says. Cute and smart. Really, how is he supposed to resist?

“I’d recommend a succulent if you’re a beginner,” Renjun says, walking Donghyuck over and picking a few out for him. “Something like this, maybe?”

“Right,” Donghyuck says, without giving the plants a second glance. “Where do I pay?”

So Mark walks out with his housewarming gift, and Donghyuck walks out with — well, a succulent.

“What’s up with that?” Mark asks, when he walks out to see Donghyuck cradling his succulent against his chest. He scrunches his nose. “Have you ever even taken care of a plant before?”

“Mark,” Donghyuck says, sighing dramatically as they power walk to the engineering building. “Let me tell you exactly what happened in there. I just met the love of my life, okay? If I have to learn how to water a plant, or whatever, I will do it, because I’m going to go back there and get his number and marry him, probably.”

“The love of your life,” Mark says flatly. “The employee? Renjun? You’ve literally known him for five minutes.”

“Five minutes that felt like forever,” Donghyuck swoons, and Mark cringes. “I’m gonna be the best plant dad you know, and then he and I can talk about very romantic things while we water our plants together.”

Red light. They both pause at the intersection.

“I’m...not sure if that’s how it works,” Mark says, as a car whizzes past them.

“It will be,” Donghyuck says, with conviction. “You’ll see.”

Visit Renjun, Donghyuck pencils into his calendar on Tuesdays, right in between his environmental science and ethics of engineering classes. Hesitating, he also sets a daily reminder — water succulent?

His succulent is going to be healthy and beautiful, he thinks, and when he goes back to the plant store next Tuesday, he's going to tell Renjun all about it. Then he'll ask for his number. Smoothly, of course.

Baby steps, he thinks satisfiedly to himself. Now all he had to do was make it to next Tuesday.

Okay, Donghyuck thinks. So maybe it was a little more complicated than that.

“It’s dead,” Doyoung announces. “The roots are completely mushy. You’re going to have to get a new succulent, if you still want one.”

“Is it really?” Donghyuck asks, aghast. “I knew it was bad, but I didn’t think it’d be...that...bad.” His voice trails off towards the end as he looks up at Doyoung.

Doyoung levels him with a half-fond, half-exasperated look. “Yes, it really is.” He dusts his hands off. “You probably watered it too much.”

“That’s a thing?”

This time, Doyoung’s look is mostly exasperated. He sighs, ruffling the back of Donghyuck’s head. “Yes, Donghyuck, it’s a thing.”

Before Doyoung leaves, he threatens Donghyuck to do his laundry before Sunday ends, and — yeah, Donghyuck thinks, as he pulls his fitted sheet sadly out of the washer, Doyoung’s right. Too much water. 

He stares at the dripping fabric before shoving it into the dryer.

Two days later, he finds himself in the plant store again.

“Back again?” Renjun looks up from the counter when he walks again, shooting him a half-grin that Donghyuck immediately files into the mental list he’s compiling, called Reasons Why Renjun is the Best Person Ever. Reason one, he’d recognized Donghyuck even when their first interaction was a full week ago and couldn’t have been more than five minutes long. Reason two, he had the prettiest smile. Objectively.

“How’s the succulent?”

Donghyuck’s smile drops. “Um,” he says, and his tone makes Renjun look up from whatever he’s working on, expression softening.

“It’s okay,” Renjun says. “First time, right? I won’t judge. Tell me what happened.”

Donghyuck grimaces. “I think I overwatered it.”

Renjun nods understandingly. “I thought that might be it.” He swings over the counter, taking Donghyuck’s hand and — is he holding my hand, Donghyuck thinks dizzily — leading him over to the succulents again.

“So these,” Renjun says gently, arm sweeping across the whole section, “don’t actually require that much water. Once every other week, or even once every three weeks, is a good cycle to follow.”

“Right,” Donghyuck says faintly, the phantom touch of Renjun’s hand against his still occupying his mind.

“Because the plant needs water, but it also needs air to breathe,” Renjun says. “So if you overwater it, you’ll drown the plant. Literally. If the roots are soaked in water for too long they’ll rot, and since it’s hard to see what’s going on underneath the soil you might suddenly realize that your plant is dying.”

He pauses, giving Donghyuck a self-conscious smile. “I’m not rambling, am I?”

“No,” Donghyuck says vehemently, startling the both of them. He smiles awkwardly at Renjun. “I mean. This is good information to know.”

“Great,” Renjun says, smile turning genuine. “Want to try again?”

Once every other week, Donghyuck thinks, and changes his daily reminder to a biweekly one. Which is all well and good, except that now he has no real reason to visit Renjun again next week — which is a problem, he thinks, because he’s determined to go anyway.

He’s frowning into his ethics of engineering homework on Friday when Mark slides into the seat across from him.

“Why the long face?”

Donghyuck sighs. “I killed my first succulent.”

Mark wheezes with laughter, and ends up having to fake a cough to cover it up. Or at least Donghyuck thinks he’s faking it, tilting his head in mild alarm when Mark actually chokes on apparently nothing and continues coughing.

The librarian shoots a look in their direction. Donghyuck, subtly, spreads his hands in Mark’s direction and shrugs.

“Wow,” Mark says eventually, laughter still dying down. “You work fast, huh?”

“Fuck you,” Donghyuck snipes, but there’s no real heat to his words and they both know it. “If you’re just going to make fun of me, you can save it. I already got it from Doyoung.”

“I wasn’t going to make fun of you,” Mark says, hiding a smile when Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe just a little bit. But not anymore!”

“You better not,” Donghyuck grumbles, flipping the pen in his hands and scribbling down some more equations — cos x, he thinks to himself, so negligible if x was ever 0.

“Hey, how’s it going with that guy?”

Donghyuck gives him a warning glare, and Mark holds his hands out placatingly. “I’m seriously asking,” he says. “You went again this week, right? Any progress?”

“Yes, I made progress with the plant store employee after telling him I killed a beginner’s plant,” Donghyuck deadpans, ignoring the way heat crawls up the back of his neck when he’s reminded of Renjun.

Mark rolls his eyes. “And I bet he was super nice about it, wasn’t he?” He looks at Donghyuck’s face for a second, then kicks his leg out in an aha sort of way. “See? He totally was.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Donghyuck mumbles. What was the starting angle given in the problem, again?

“Twenty-three,” Mark says, tapping at the top of the page. And — oh. There it is.

He looks up at Mark. “How did you…”

Mark gives him a small smile. “You don’t need to,” he says, straightening and settling in his chair. “It’s written all over your face.”

When Donghyuck pushes open the door to the plant store the next week, he’s prepared. How to properly water his succulent, garden pick-up lines — he’d even googled some icebreakers over the weekend and picked the best ones. Not the ones that asked you what type of cereal you’d be, or anything. The good ones — the kind that would hopefully make Renjun smile, at the very least.

What he didn’t prepare for, though, is the sight of someone that is decidedly not Renjun.

“Uh,” Donghyuck says carefully, making his way to the counter. “Hi?”

The other employee looks up. “Hi,” he says. “Can I help you?”

Donghyuck blinks, scanning his name tag. “Yangyang, right?”

Yangyang nods.

“Do you know if, um. Renjun is...here?”

Yangyang brightens. “So you’re Donghyuck,” he says suggestively, and Donghyuck tilts his head, caught off guard. “Renjun has a midterm today, so I covered for him.”

“Oh.” Donghyuck tries to keep the disappointment from showing on his face, but he evidently doesn’t do too well, because Yangyang grins, patting him on the arm. 

“I like you,” Yangyang says decisively. “So I’m letting you know that Renjun also works on Thursdays. Same time.”

Donghyuck perks up. “Thursdays? Every week?”

“Mhm,” Yangyang says. He leans in conspiratorially. “I’ll do you one better. Renjun is also single” — his eyes flit up to catch Donghyuck’s expression — “and looking.”

Donghyuck blushes, cheeks turning pink, and Yangyang beams, satisfied.

“And,” Yangyang adds, “since he has the absolute fortune of being my friend, I am going to sell you a Christmas cactus, because he thinks they’re adorable.”

He pauses, looking at Donghyuck slyly. “And then I’m going to give you his number.”

Donghyuck swallows. “Sounds good,” he says faintly. “How much does a Christmas cactus cost again?”

Yangyang’s grin stretches across his face. “For you?” He asks rhetorically, teeth glinting. “I’ll discount it at the cost of getting my friend a Christmas date.”

Donghyuck leaves with a Christmas cactus, Renjun’s phone number in his contacts, and his heart light in his chest.

The Visit Renjun event, too, gets changed to weekly on Tuesdays and Thursdays — now both of his events are biweekly, Donghyuck thinks amusedly, and he hums all the way home before actually doing all of his laundry, unprompted, for once.

A familiar bell sounds when Donghyuck pushes the door to the plant store open just two days later. Renjun is checking someone out, tugging a receipt loose, and Donghyuck settles at what would be an appropriate distance away and waits for him to finish. 

When Renjun looks up and sees him, the soft surprise on his face that yields to a shy sort of happiness kicks his heartbeat up by approximately a hundred counts a minute.

“Hi,” Renjun says, after the customer is on their way, and when Donghyuck drifts closer, he reaches out, tugging him right into his personal space. “What did Yangyang do?”

He makes a face — an adorable face, Donghyuck thinks. Reason three: Renjun, even when he’s annoyed, is still the most beautiful person he’s ever met. “No, wait. What did Yangyang say?”

“Not much,” Donghyuck says, giving him a lopsided grin. “Just that you worked on Thursdays too, and liked Christmas cacti.”

Renjun huffs. “That was it?”

“...and that you were single.”

“Oh my god,” Renjun says, dropping his face into his hands. He peeks up at Donghyuck, cheeks warm. “Did he really?”

“And looking,” Donghyuck adds, and Renjun makes an unintelligible sound, groaning into his arms. “If it helps, so am I.”

Renjun’s head pops back up. “You are?”

Donghyuck blinks.

“Yes…?”

“Oh,” Renjun says, mouth working to form words. “I thought the guy you came with the first time — um.”

“Mark?” Donghyuck’s face contorts. “Oh my god, no. He’s my roommate and my best friend, but —”

He shivers. “Yeah, no.”

“Oh,” Renjun says again, softer this time. “Interesting.”

Donghyuck tilts his head. “Yeah?”

“Very,” Renjun says, savoring the sound of the word and smiling to himself. He puts his hands on the counter, leaning in closer to Donghyuck.

“Well, Lee Donghyuck who happens to be single,” Renjun says, eyes sparkling. “How can I help you?”

Donghyuck hums thoughtfully. “Do you guys sell shovels?”

Renjun pauses. “I don’t think so, no,” he says slowly. “Do you need one?”

“I think I do,” Donghyuck says, grinning. “Wanna know why?”

Renjun tilts his head cutely. “Do I?”

“Because I’m kind of digging you right now,” Donghyuck says, leaning right back onto the counter and blowing an air kiss onto Renjun’s cheek.

Renjun’s flushes scarlet, mouth dropping open before exhaling and turning away to hide his burning cheeks.

“You,” he says, laughing quietly to himself, “are unbelievable.”

“Good, right?” Donghyuck asks. “I thought of that one myself.”

“Unbelievable,” Renjun repeats, shaking his head. His smile is wider than ever, though, and when he looks back at Donghyuck, he looks unusually open and vulnerable.

“You bought a Christmas cactus, right?” He asks, and when Donghyuck nods, he smiles, soft and private. “Ask me out when it blooms then.”

“When it blooms,” Mark says flatly. “And you agreed? Seriously? Donghyuck, I love you like my own brother, but you can’t garden for shit.”

“I’m dedicated,” Donghyuck protests. “I’ll make it happen.”

“Right, the same way you did with your first succulent,” Mark retorts, and Donghyuck groans in despair.

“I know it sounds bad,” he says, “but I actually did my research this time. I just need to make sure it gets enough darkness at night and water it less.”

“Okay,” Mark says slowly, “and you need me to help because…”

“Because,” Donghyuck says, “it also needs to stay in, um. Temperatures around fifty to fifty-five degrees.”

“Fifty degrees,” Mark says, deadpan. “Are you for real?”

Donghyuck shrinks. “Look, I know it sounds bad —”

“We are not sleeping in fifty-degree weather,” Mark says, cutting him off and shaking his head. “You are out of your mind. It is November.”

“Look, it’s already sixty-five degrees in here,” Donghyuck protests. “We can just…lower it by ten degrees.”

“Absolutely not,” Mark says, shaking his head. “Find another way.”

Taeyong opens the door before Donghyuck can even knock.

“Mark texted me you were on your way over,” he says, waving Donghyuck in. “Come in. And feel free to put that down on the table, by the way. It looks heavy.”

Donghyuck sets the pot down gently onto the ground and hovers in the living room while Taeyong goes upstairs to call Doyoung. He peers past the sliding glass door on the eastern wall of the room to see the Bonsai tree Mark gifted nestled in with some other flowers that he recognizes — a few violets, a few snowdrops — and more that he doesn’t.

“What do you think?”

Donghyuck turns to see Doyoung watching him from the foot of the staircase.

“It looks great,” he says sincerely, and Doyoung gives him a half-smile, coming to the door with him.

“I think so too,” he says, cocking his head. “It was a bit tricky to get the temperature right for all of them, but I managed to convince Taeyong that it’d be worth it to buy a house with a sunroom, so. Not too bad.”

He looks over at Donghyuck. “That’s why you’re here, right?”

Donghyuck nods.

Doyoung hmphs quietly. “I thought so. You’ve done your research?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, worrying at his lips. “It might be a little cold for the Bonsai tree, but I, um. Looked into the specific breed Mark bought, and fifty degrees should be fine, as long as it stays sunny.”

“Which it will be for the next few weeks,” Doyoung finishes for him, smiling. “And we can just set up a curtain for your cactus to keep it in the dark.”

Donghyuck looks at him in surprise. “I did my own research before you came over too,” Doyoung says, patting him on the back, “since I had an idea of what you wanted. Though I will admit I didn’t expect you to bring over a Christmas cactus.”

“...is that a yes?” Donghyuck asks tentatively.

“Of course,” Doyoung says good-naturedly, rolling his eyes and pushing Donghyuck back into the center of the living room. “I might pull the Bonsai tree out and put it in our bedroom, but you can most definitely use our sunroom for your own nefarious purposes. As long as you promise me we won’t have a repeat of the succulent incident.”

“I promise,” Donghyuck says seriously, pressing his lips together. “Thank you. Really.”

“Oh, come here,” Doyoung says, pulling him into a hug that turns into Doyoung throttling him affectionately when Donghyuck squirms away. “What’s ours is yours. You know that.”

His smile turns devious. “Just admit in front of Taeyong that I’m your favorite, and we can call it even.”

“Hey!” Taeyong’s voice exclaims from the kitchen. A bit of rustling later, he pokes his head out, frowning. “I’ve known Donghyuck since he was a baby.”

“And?” Doyoung retorts. “Who’s his favorite now?”

“You are,” Donghyuck says obediently, and Doyoung crows in victory.

“Pitting the children against me already,” Taeyong grumbles. “Very mature.”

Doyoung bounces up to him, smile wide enough to rival a crescent moon. “Funny,” he says, poking Taeyong’s face, “because that sounds like the words of someone who isn’t the favorite.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, ignoring Doyoung. “That’s too bad,” he says, “because I made cookies. But I guess if I’m not the favorite…”

“Cookies?” Donghyuck pops up beside them, giving them both a beatific smile. “Don’t mind if I do. You can both be my favorites,” he says, before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Don’t forget to leave some for Mark,” Taeyong calls out, and Donghyuck gives a halfhearted yeah, okay as his reply.

“Were we like this?” Doyoung asks, staring critically in the direction of the kitchen. “When we were in college?”

Taeyong hums, tilting his head up. “No, I don’t think so,” he says, eyes glinting with amusement. He smiles sunnily. “We were definitely worse.”

“I think I want another succulent,” is what Donghyuck opens with, the next time he sees Renjun. “Do you think I should get one?”

Renjun takes it in stride, looking up at Donghyuck when he comes through the door and smiling slightly. “It’s literally my job to sell you plants. I think you know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Okay, fair,” Donghyuck says thoughtfully. “Let me rephrase that. I think I’m gonna get more succulents.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Renjun says, amused. “How is your second one doing?”

“It’s holding up pretty well,” Donghyuck says, shrugging. “I think a new leaf grew out of it yesterday, which is good, right?” He smiles. “I’ve been watering it once every two weeks, like you suggested, which really helped.”

“Impressive,” Renjun says, leaning against the glass counter and smiling back at him. “Want me to help you pick another one?”

“Only if you’re free,” Donghyuck returns, and they smile at each other for a second before Renjun tugs him towards the succulents.

“I’m thinking one of these,” Renjun says, narrowing his eyes and picking out a few from the box. “Mainly because they match with your other one, color-wise, but also because they’re all slightly different varieties from the one you have, which means that they’ll look good next to…”

Reason four, Donghyuck thinks. Intelligence is sexy.

Renjun trails off. “Are you even listening to me?”

“I am...paying a lot of attention to you,” Donghyuck says, and Renjun sighs, smiling helplessly at him.

“Very flattering,” he says, smile growing on his lips. “But not exactly what I asked.”

“I’ll take them all.” Donghyuck says, instead of replying, and Renjun trips over a laugh as Donghyuck collects all three succulents into his hands. “I trust your judgment.”

“I don’t know if I’d trust yours,” Renjun quips, but he follows Donghyuck to the counter to check the succulents out.

“Ten thirty-six,” Renjun says, afterwards. “Card?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, taking his wallet out. “Just one more thing.”

Renjun looks up at him. “What is it?”

“You know how Mark got a tree the last time he was here?”

Renjun nods slowly. “A Bonsai tree.”

“Right,” Donghyuck says. “I want a tree too.”

“Um,” Renjun says, “okay? Do you want me to take you…why are you smiling like that?” His expression shifts. “Oh my god. Don’t tell me this is another one of your —”

A grin creeps across Donghyuck’s face. “I’m glad you offered,” he says, “because I was going to ask if you wanted to start a family tree with me.”

Renjun blinks, a startled laugh escaping from his throat. “Holy shit,” he whispers in half-awe, half-fear. “You’re shameless. How do you even come up with these?”

“It takes time,” Donghyuck says nodding solemnly. He takes his bag from the counter. “Genius is hard work.”

“Get out,” Renjun says, mouth curling upwards against his own will. “Oh my god. Leave.”

“I’ll be back next week,” Donghyuck calls out cheerily as he kicks the door open with his foot. “Try not to miss me too much!”

Donghyuck does not, in fact, see Renjun the next week.

Two midterms and an urban planning project later, he collapses on his bed. From across the room, Mark pauses.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out tonight?” He asks, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. “It’s not too late to start getting ready.”

“One hundred percent positive,” Donghyuck says, starfishing across his sheets. He lifts his head up to look at Mark. “One of my urban planning group members bailed last minute, and I pulled an all-nighter trying to fix our presentation.”

He drops his head back down.

“All I want,” he says, half-muffled by the pillow, “is to water my cactus and go to bed. But my cactus is all the way across town, so I have to go all the way over and come all the way back before I can actually sleep.”

“You’re really dedicated to this whole cactus thing, aren’t you?” Mark asks.

Donghyuck hums halfheartedly in reply.

Mark sighs. “Alright. Stay safe then.”

“You too,” Donghyuck says, and buries his face in his covers when the door swings shut.

He texts Doyoung about coming over in a few hours, sets an alarm for nine — and then sets another three, just in case — before he falls promptly asleep.

Donghyuck wakes up on Tuesday, puts his kiss the chef apron on, and makes five batches of peppermint bark by the time it’s ten in the morning.

“Woah,” Mark says, rubbing his eyes and staring confusedly at the kitchen. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Donghyuck says brightly, hammering at the peppermint in the plastic bag with just a little more force than necessary. “Take as much as you want.”

“Now I’m actually concerned,” Mark snorts, but he reaches out and breaks off a chunk. “You didn’t invite people over without telling me, right?”

“Nope,” Donghyuck says. His eyes track the piece in Mark’s hand — from his mouth, to his throat, and then back up to his eyes.

“How is it?”

Mark swallows. “Good,” he says, shrugging. “Like always.”

“Good like average, or good good?” Donghyuck stresses. “Because there’s a difference.”

Mark narrows his eyes. “...second one,” he guesses, and lets out a breath when Donghyuck’s shoulders relax fractionally. “Right, well I’m gonna let you work,” he says, backing out of the kitchen. “Class at three?”

Donghyuck hums distractedly, and Mark nods to himself before escaping.

“I brought you peppermint bark,” Donghyuck says breathlessly, breezing past the entrance and putting the bag down on the counter. “Hi. And, um. Sorry for last week.”

“Hi,” Renjun says slowly, picking the bag up and examining it. “Did you make this yourself?”

Donghyuck inhales. Exhales. “Yes,” he says, fingers twisting behind his back. “It’s really not a huge deal, just — happy December.”

“Happy December indeed,” Renjun muses, smiling at him, and Donghyuck physically feels the relief coursing through his body. “And you don’t have to apologize. It’s midterm season. Everyone’s busy.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No,” Renjun says, raising an eyebrow, “no apologies for prioritizing your classes.”

Reason five, Donghyuck thinks faintly. Renjun is an angel.

Renjun’s smile turns mischievous. “You could have texted, though.”

“That’s not fair,” Donghyuck protests immediately. “I don’t even —”

“Yes you do,” Renjun says coyly. He flips his notebook shut, tilting his head at Donghyuck. “I don’t have your number. You have mine, though.”

Donghyuck's eyes widen. “Oh my god, you’re right,” he says. “Okay, yeah, that’s on me then. I just — I totally forgot.”

“Now I want to know how you saved me in your contacts,” Renjun says playfully. “Plant store employee?”

“I would never,” Donghyuck says. Then, jokingly — “that’d be too confusing, with both you and Yangyang.”

Renjun tries to hide his smile, punching Donghyuck’s shoulder weakly. “Not funny,” he says, but the corners of his mouth betray him.

“You really want to know how I saved you?” Donghyuck pulls his phone out, drafting a message. “Okay, check your phone.”

Renjun’s blush is near-immediate. “You just sent me five heart emojis,” he says slowly.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck shrugs nonchalantly, heartbeat a steady drum in his ears. His fingers tap out another message discreetly. “That’s how many are behind your name.”

Renjun’s phone dings again.

from: ###-###-####

if i had a rose for every time i thought of you last week, i’d probably have enough to start my own plant store

“You mean a florist’s,” Renjun says, but his voice is slightly shaky. “We sell” — sniff — “more than just flowers here.”

“And I missed you too,” he adds quietly, and when he locks his phone, looking back up to Donghyuck, it’s almost a little shy.

“Text me,” Renjun says, and when he smiles, Donghyuck feels something bloom in between the two of them.

to: renjun ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ (###-###-####)

hey
if you were a flower i’d pick you first

no

ok what about
i Aloe you Vera much

...better
but still no

ur a suc-cute-lent

i see what u were trying to do
but that sounds kinda weird don’t u think

valid
also was the peppermint bark good?
asking for a friend

very good
u can tell ur friend that i loved it :)

amazing
i mean
he’ll be glad to hear that :)

Donghyuck is still packing up his things when his phone rings.

“Hello?” He answers, balancing his phone between his neck and his shoulder as he navigates his notebook back into his bag.

“Donghyuck,” Doyoung says, sounding slightly out of breath. “I just got home, so I went to go check on your cactus, right?”

Donghyuck’s stomach drops. “Tell me you have good news,” he says, shoving the rest of his papers in his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Was it the water? I know you aren’t supposed to mist it, but I did spray some water on the violets when I was over yesterday. I swear I was careful, though, I made sure that the tarp was covering the other side and I —”

“Donghyuck, breathe,” Doyoung says. “Your cactus is fine. It’s more than fine, actually. I was calling to tell you that I think there’s a bud.”

Silence. Doyoung frowns.

“...Donghyuck?”

“I am on my way right now,” Donghyuck says, fingers flying over his screen. “I am literally calling an Uber as we speak.”

Doyoung’s laugh travels over the phone. “Okay,” he says. “It could still be another few weeks —”

“Until it blooms, yes, I know,” Donghyuck says, jogging towards the entrance of the building. “But it’s budding. Oh my god, this is huge.”

“Well, let me know when you’re here,” Doyoung says amusedly. “I’ll get the door for you.”

“Will do,” Donghyuck says, slowing as he reaches the sidewalk. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he pauses to catch his breath, panting unsteadily. Five weeks until the end of the semester, he thinks, and hopes — prays — for a miracle.

When Donghyuck arrives, Taeyong already has his camera out.

“This is monumental,” he informs Donghyuck, clicking away at the shutter. “I have to document Luna’s journey to adulthood.”

“Luna?” Donghyuck repeats.

“Your cactus,” Doyoung says wryly. “You know Taeyong and his tendency to anthropomorphize everything? Well, he decided today that your cactus needed a name.”

“She deserved a name,” Taeyong stresses. “And that name is Luna.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says, not really expecting the name to stick. He shrugs. “Luna it is.”

Of course the nickname sticks.

The first time Donghyuck tells Mark he has to go see Luna, Mark does a double take.

“You’re going to do who now?” He asks. Then, he asks, “on a weekday?”

“My cactus,” Donghyuck deadpans, and watches as Mark’s face works through his stages of understanding — confusion, incredulity, curiosity, and then some more confusion — before the enlightenment of realization.

“Oh, dude,” Mark says finally. “You do not want to know the first thing I pictured when you said that.”

Donghyuck winces. “You literally just put it in my head,” he said, mouth twisting in a grimace. “You really are something else, Lee.”

Mark opens his mouth, and Donghyuck shakes his head. “Nope,” he says. “I know that look on your face. You’re definitely still thinking about it, and you’re about to say something that you and I both know I would be infinitely better off without knowing.”

Mark closes his mouth, then giggles to himself. “But, if you think about it — like, really think about it — it’s kinda funny.”

“In what world is having a cactus near — no, I’m definitely not starting this conversation,” Donghyuck says, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

“Can I at least be godfather?” Mark calls out as Donghyuck steps out of their dorm.

“Pretty sure your brother has that covered,” Donghyuck yells back. “You guys can fight over it. Winner gets to be godfather.”

Mark waves an uninterested hand. “He can have it, I guess. He already named her.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t trust you with her anyway,” Donghyuck says, smirking, and darts down the stairs before Mark can tackle him into admitting otherwise.

December, Donghyuck thinks. The month of joy. A time of giving. And the season of...

“Exams,” their professor says, tapping his watch. “Now, I’ve decided that this year, the final exam will be replaced with a final project. Groups of three, assigned by last name. Your specific groups will be online.”

Donghyuck kicks Mark in the leg. Last name, he mouths, pointing to the both of them, and Mark nods.

“We have to be in the same group, right?” Donghyuck asks later, after class ends. “God, I hope so. Can you check? If I end up with another group like my last one on urban planning, I’m actually going to cry.”

“Yeah,” Mark says distractedly, logging in and scrolling down the page. “A’s, G’s — okay, here it is. Group eighteen. Me, you, and Liu.”

“Yes,” Donghyuck fist-pumps. “Who’s the other guy again?”

“Yangyang. Liu Yangyang.”

Donghyuck blinks twice at Yangyang, before turning back to Mark. “Yo,” he says, “this is already so much better than my last group project. I didn’t know you were in engineering, Yangyang.”

“Yeah, BME,” Yangyang says casually, like biomedical engineering isn’t the coolest shit ever. “And you’re…?”

“Dude, that is impressive,” Donghyuck says, and Yangyang cracks a grin. 

“Thanks, man.”

“Civil,” Donghyuck says. He points to Mark. “Mechanical.”

“...have you guys met?” Mark asks curiously.

“Plant store,” Donghyuck says without elaborating, and Mark ah’s in understanding. “Guys, we’re going to crush this final project. Applications of these equations? We’re literally from three different engineering fields. We got this.”

“I can get us a few sources by the next time we meet,” Yangyang offers, and Mark nods in appreciation.

“Me too,” he says, reaching out to fist-bump Yangyang. “You know what? I can tell we’re going to get along just fine.”

to: renjun ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ (###-###-####)

u will never believe
who i'm in a final project group with

do i want to know

liu...
yangyang

oh my god
are u serious

yep
the one and only

wait
ur an engineering major??

yeah why

..no wonder we’ve never seen each other on campus before
should’ve known from ur bad pick-up lines that u were stem

hey
hey!
what does that even mean..

u know what it means :)

The next time Donghyuck sees Renjun, he’s wearing a Christmas sweater, looking adorably affronted as someone nearly knocks over a potted orchid while they’re browsing.

“Rough day?” Donghyuck asks, after the customer leaves, and Renjun looks up with a tired smile.

“Better now,” he says, and Donghyuck lights up with happiness. “Sometimes you just get those types of customers.”

Donghyuck hums, folding his hands in front of him. “And what type of customer am I?”

Renjun’s eyes crinkle. “A really, really well-paying one.”

“Wow,” Donghyuck says, huffing and turning around. “I see then. Maybe I should just take myself elsewhere, since it’s all about the —”

Renjun takes his hand, tugging him back around, and his voice dies out when he notices just how close they are.

“Just kidding,” Renjun says, and Donghyuck goes a bit cross-eyed trying to look at him. “You know you’re more than just my best customer.”

“I’m Yangyang’s friend now,” Donghyuck points out. “So we have to be friends, you know? It’s associative.”

“Oh,” Renjun says teasingly, breath fanning out across Donghyuck’s face. It smells like peppermint, sugary-sweet when he says, “I think we both know you’re more than just a friend, too.”

Donghyuck blinks. “Is now the time to tell you that cact-I’m ready to be cact-us?”

Renjun frowns slightly as he thinks about it, and Donghyuck is overwhelmed with the sudden and very pressing desire to kiss it away.

“I’m not sure if that works,” Renjun says. “Like, singular-plural forms of the word-wise.” His mouth quirks upwards. “But still cute. Six out of ten.”

Donghyuck flushes, and Renjun drops his hand, turning away with a pleased smile.

Also — peppermint. Donghyuck follows Renjun to the counter and asks, “so Yangyang gave you the peppermint bark?”

“He did,” Renjun says breezily. He pouts. “I can’t believe he sees you more than I do.”

“It’s not too late to transfer majors,” Donghyuck says shrugging, and Renjun laughs, punching him in the arm. “But you should be grateful for him. At least he schedules our meetings around your shifts, too.”

Renjun hums, light catching on the sequins on his shirt when he turns around to look at Donghyuck. “And why would he do that?”

“Because he’s a good friend,” Donghyuck says, smiling slightly, “and because we had a deal.”

Renjun tilts his head. “Does the deal involve me?”

“You and a Christmas cactus,” Donghyuck says, and the corners of Renjun’s mouth curve upwards. “But I’d rather talk about our deal.”

“Did we have one?” Renjun asks, coy. “I can’t remember.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “Should I give you a reminder?”

Putting his hands on the counter and leaning over Renjun, he hums. “Or should we call it a preview?”

Renjun blinks up at Donghyuck, smile soft and indulgent. “You should hurry up, maybe,” he says, kissing his fingers and pressing them, gently, to Donghyuck’s own lips. “I’m feeling a little impatient.”

to: renjun ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ (###-###-####)

i don’t think i can come this week :(

:((((
finals?

yep
i literally haven’t left my room in 3 days

>:(((
stay healthy!! and good luck!!
i am Rooting for u!!

thank you! you too
Wait.
did you just

did i :)
i guess we’re just…

?

mint to be :)

oh my god...
they grow up so fast

…
go study!

And Donghyuck goes.

One week turns into two with a couple of scheduling mishaps, and when Donghyuck finally stumbles out of their final project presentation at six pm on a Monday night, it’s almost half a month to the day he last saw Renjun.

“We killed it in there,” Mark says, interrupting his thoughts with a hearty slap on the back. “Did you see the professor’s face? He loved it.”

Yangyang snorts. “Are you kidding me? Dude, when you called that one source reductionist? I swear he almost started clapping. That was genius.”

“Couldn’t have pulled it off if you hadn’t just said —”

“The whole is more than the sum of its parts,” Yangyang finishes, and Mark grins.

“You know what this calls for?”

Donghyuck groans. “Or,” he says, “we could skip it, since it’s Monday.”

“Skip what?” Yangyang asks curiously.

“A celebration,” Mark says, ignoring Donghyuck. His smile widens. “I know just the place.”

And so they celebrate the success of their final project like how most students celebrate various other special occasions — by getting fabulously, ridiculously drunk at the cheapest restaurant on campus.

Well, Mark does, at least.

“I love you,” Mark says, clinging onto Donghyuck’s sleeve and using it to wipe his tears. He turns to Yangyang. “I know I’ve only known you for two weeks —”

He hiccups, and Donghyuck laughs out loud. “I love you too,” Mark finishes, misty-eyed again, and Yangyang holds his hands as a sort of peace offering as he tries to octopus-hug him.

“I think you’re great too,” Yangyang says, which sets off another round of waterworks. Donghyuck passes him another wad of napkins without even looking.

“You get used to it,” he says, nodding solemnly to Yangyang. “He’s just a sensitive soul.”

“With really low tolerance,” Yangyang marvels. “Wow. We’ve only had like, what? Two drinks each?”

“Yep,” Donghyuck says. “One of Mark Lee’s many charms.”

His phone buzzes against his leg, and he looks up apologetically. “I’ll be right back,” he says, and Yangyang shoots him a thumbs-up as he slips to a quieter corner.

“Donghyuck,” Doyoung says, greeting him. “Get over here, right now.”

Donghyuck freezes, feeling the metaphorical bucket of ice water run through his veins in rivulets. “Good news, right?”

“Very good news,” Doyoung says. There’s a multitude of clicking sounds in the background, and — 

“Is that Taeyong taking photos?” Donghyuck asks.

“Yes,” Doyoung says. “Trust me, this is picture-worthy. How fast can you be here?”

“Uh, twenty minutes if I ditch my friends,” Donghyuck says dryly, looking back over at Mark and Yangyang. “Which...I will do. I’ll see you in twenty.”

He makes his way back over to their seats, patting Mark and Yangyang on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, which gets Yangyang’s attention, but not Mark’s.

“Mark,” he says, punching him, and Mark’s eyes refocus on Donghyuck.

“Emergency,” he says, in lieu of an explanation. “I gotta run.”

He looks at Mark and sighs.

“Can you make sure he gets home?” He asks Yangyang. “Sorry I’m just leaving him in your hands. I swear we live really close to here, and he has his own set of keys.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yangyang says, waving it away. “Not a problem.”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck says, exhaling in relief. “Okay, great. I’ll see you soon.”

“Are you going to see Luna?” Mark asks, already half-asleep on the table. “Have fun. Send her my love.”

He turns to Yangyang. “He always spends like, an hour at night with Luna.” He stretches, then lets out an enormous yawn. “You’d like her.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Thanks again,” he says to Yangyang before leaving.

He doesn’t see Yangyang’s confused expression, or the way he frowns afterwards.

“Luna?” Yangyang asks, but when he looks back at the table, Mark’s already fast asleep.

Doyoung is already at the door when Donghyuck scrambles out of the car.

“Is it what I think it is?” Donghyuck asks breathlessly, toeing off his shoes.

Doyoung smiles at him. “Why don’t you go and see?”

“I knew it looked different these last few days,” Donghyuck says, speedwalking to the living room. “It wasn’t bigger, but it was definitely different, you know? I swear the petals were actually opening. I know I’ve said that every day, but I think that’s because it was actually happening.” He vibrates in front of the door, grabbing Doyoung’s hands. “Oh my god, I’m so nervous. It’s not that there’s another bud, right? No, it can’t be, because we already have three. They didn’t fall off or anything, right?”

He takes a deep breath. “Don’t answer that. Okay, never mind. I’m calm. Is this what it feels like when toddlers learn how to walk? This is normal, right?”

Doyoung opens his mouth, then closes it. “Just look,” he says bemusedly.

“Okay, I’ll look,” Donghyuck says.

He doesn’t move.

Doyoung reaches around him to slide the door open and push him outside. “Look,” he says meaningfully, and Donghyuck slides his gaze over.

A single blossom — pink and perfect.

“There’s so many petals,” Donghyuck whispers in awe, and then just — stares some more. The petals sway lightly in the air, and an unspeakable emotion rises in his throat.

He swallows it with some difficulty. “It really does feel like you’re raising a kid, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Doyoung says, but he’s smiling at Donghyuck instead of the cactus. “One of the best feelings in the world.”

“And there’ll be more,” Donghyuck breathes. “Wow. Just imagine how she’ll look with a couple more of those.”

“Just in time for Christmas,” Doyoung says, putting his arm around Donghyuck.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck murmurs, rubbing at his eyes valiantly. “Just in time.”

to: renjun ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ (###-###-####)

i need to tell you something
tomorrow! :)

By the time Donghyuck gets back to his dorm, it’s almost midnight. He bites his lip, cracking the door open and tiptoeing to his side of the room. Navigating past the squeaky floorboards, he breathes a sigh of relief when he finally gets to his bed without making much noise.

Then he sits down, and the bed creaks.

Loudly.

Mark stirs, head coming up to look at his side of the room.

“Hyuck?” He says sleepily. “Is that you?”

Donghyuck sighs. “Yeah.” No use trying to be quiet now, he thinks, and flops onto his bed with a groan.

“How’s Luna?”

“Really good, actually,” Donghyuck says, unable to stop himself from smiling. “I’m...gonna ask Renjun out tomorrow.”

There’s some rustling. “Really?” Mark asks, propping himself up on one arm to look at Donghyuck’s expression. “Holy shit, you’re serious. Finally. Let me know when congratulations are in order.”

“Thanks.” Donghyuck smiles into his pillow. “Will do.”

“Also, did Yangyang text you?” Mark asks, yawning. “He seemed kind of annoyed after you left.”

“He was?” Donghyuck frowns. “No, he didn’t. I’ll text him now.”

“Yeah, like a little pissed off,” Mark says, voice a little muffled. “I don’t remember if I did anything, but it probably wasn’t a big deal. Don’t worry too much about it.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says, but he’s already composing a quick, hey, sorry again for ditching tonight — is everything okay text to Yangyang that he sends before turning his phone back off.

“Good job today,” Mark says faintly. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Donghyuck echoes, and doesn’t fall asleep until much, much later.

Neither Renjun nor Yangyang reply by the time Donghyuck gets out of his environmental science class the next day, though both messages have been read, and Donghyuck frowns at the unusual silence on both ends. The walk to the plant store, too, feels more serious than it normally does, and he slows down as he nears it, smoothing his shirt out before he goes in.

There’s a brief pause between when the door opens and when the bells jingle, which is how Donghyuck catches the minute way Renjun’s shoulders stiffen when he hears the sound.

“Is everything okay?” He asks cautiously, taking in Renjun’s pinched expression.

Renjun exhales. “We should talk.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says, concern skyrocketing. “I agree. We should.”

Renjun nods to himself. “It might be nothing to you, really,” he says, “but I don’t think we’re on the same page about...this.”

He gestures between the two of them, and Donghyuck pauses, thrown.

“What?”

“What are we doing, Donghyuck?” Renjun asks, rubbing at his face tiredly. “Because I can’t be someone that you come to when things don’t work out.”

“I’ve never — I feel like we were definitely on the same page,” Donghyuck says, voice small. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You,” Renjun says, closing his eyes, “keep coming in here with your stupid face and stupid smile, telling me the worst pick-up lines —”

“They’re not that bad,” Donghyuck protests feebly. “You laughed.”

“I laughed because I liked you, not your pick-up lines, dumbass!”

Donghyuck stares at Renjun, feeling, simultaneously, both elation and utter confusion. “...you did?”

Renjun deflates, taking a step back and crossing his arms. “Never mind,” he mumbles. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He looks up at Donghyuck tiredly. “Look, I just — what were you going to tell me?”

“I,” Donghyuck starts, faltering at Renjun’s expression. His mouth feels dry, all of a sudden, nerves fluttering in the bottom of his stomach, and he has to swallow a few times to force the words out of his mouth.

“I just wanted to tell you that Luna bloomed last night,” he says eventually, fingers fumbling to unlock his phone. “Here.”

He thrusts the phone — and the photo — out between them.

“And I don’t know if you were being serious about taking you out when she flowered, but I thought it was worth a shot, anyway.” Donghyuck shuffles nervously. “So, I guess I just wanted to ask, no jokes or pick-up lines or anything — and you can say no, I won’t be offended if you tell me you were just joking —” 

He pauses for a breath. “Will you go out with me?”

In Donghyuck’s mind, Renjun says yes, or he says no, and the rest plays out — well, accordingly.

In reality, though, Renjun blanches at the photo. Frustration, confusion, guilt — Donghyuck watches as at least five distinct emotions cross Renjun’s face in the seven seconds it takes for his phone screen to dim, after which Renjun reaches a hand out to tap at the screen so that it doesn’t lock.

“Your cactus,” Renjun says, dragging his gaze up to look Donghyuck in the eye. “That’s Luna?”

“Yeah?” It comes out sounding more like a question than an answer, and Donghyuck clears his throat, a little embarrassed. “Someone convinced me that it would grow better if I gave it a name, so…”

“Oh my god,” Renjun says, laughing disbelievingly. Then, again — “Luna is your cactus.”

Donghyuck nods with Renjun. “Yes,” he says slowly, eyebrows scrunching together. “What else would it…”

He stops, mouth falling open into a little ‘o’. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” Renjun says, biting his lip. He watches Donghyuck’s expression carefully, before taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. 

Gently, he pushes the phone aside, hand lingering on Donghyuck’s own. “I should’ve known,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that why Yangyang is mad?” Donghyuck shifts his weight to his other foot. Renjun’s hand is soft and fits perfectly in his, and his fingers twitch slightly as he tries to decide whether it’s worth pulling his hand away to put his phone up.

Renjun ends up making the decision for him, setting the phone down on the counter and tugging Donghyuck closer.

“Yeah,” he whispers, fingers tapping restlessly against Donghyuck’s hand. “Um, he told me you said you visited Luna every night, and you didn’t come these last few days, so I thought maybe...”

He pouts cutely, and Donghyuck’s heart does somersaults in his chest. “Well, I thought wrong, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Donghyuck parrots back, and delights in the way a slow flush creeps across Renjun’s cheeks. “There’s really only one person I’ve been into, you know.”

“Really?” Renjun’s lips tick upwards. “And how’s that going?”

“Hmm,” Donghyuck hums, feeling his chest warm. He makes a show of looking around, before turning back to Renjun and raising his eyebrows. “Well, I’m still kind of waiting for him to tell me whether he’ll let me take him out for dinner.”

Renjun’s smile widens. “Yes,” he says simply, fingers tightening around Donghyuck’s. “To both.”

Then he slots one of his legs between Donghyuck’s, other hand reaching up to grab Donghyuck’s collar, and kisses him.

Donghyuck’s brain kicks in somewhere between the third or fourth second afterwards, and he can feel the smile on Renjun’s lips when he starts to kiss him back, hand squeezing Renjun’s apologetically.

It’s sweet, Renjun’s palm a little sweaty against his, and when they back up against the glass counter, Donghyuck’s other hand settles around Renjun’s waist, fingers slipping under the edge of Renjun’s sweatshirt and rucking it up slightly. Renjun’s soft and warm, the sliver of skin between Donghyuck’s hands and the waistband of his jeans rapidly pebbling with goosebumps, and he makes a small, punched-out sound into his mouth but doesn’t protest when Donghyuck splays his hand out against the small of his back and presses him closer.

They both spring apart when the bell to the store rings.

Renjun shoots Donghyuck an apologetic look before turning and facing the door. 

“We’re closing soon,” Renjun says weakly. He clears his throat.

“Oh, no worries,” Doyoung’s voice travels over, and Donghyuck’s head snaps towards the door. “I’m just picking up fertilizer for my plants. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Doyoung’s gaze meets his a half-second later, and Donghyuck makes an aborted hand-waving motion in his direction.

"Uh,” he says eloquently, when Doyoung raises a single eyebrow, eyes travelling from his collar to Renjun’s face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Doyoung says, smiling in a vaguely non-threatening way. He navigates to the counter, picking up two boxes of fertilizer and putting them on the counter. “You know, Donghyuck, I used to come here a lot last year before we moved. I don’t think I ever saw you here, though.”

Renjun presses his lips together, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Twelve ninety-six,” he says, running the boxes under the scanner and putting them into a bag.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says. “It’s kind of...new.”

Doyoung hums as he pays. “I see,” he says simply, and doesn’t pry any further.

Donghyuck watches Renjun, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m pretty committed though,” he says finally, biting his lip. “I want to do this right, you know?”

Renjun looks up at him, then, expression softening. “Give yourself a little more credit,” he says, and the fond look in his eyes gives Donghyuck butterflies all over again. “You’re doing better than you think.”

Doyoung exhales amusedly, taking the bag and tucking it beneath his arm. “Good for you.” His smile is warm and knowing. “You’ll have to tell me about it the next time you come over.”

He pauses when he reaches the door, looking back at the two of them with the slightest hint of a grin. “And bring Renjun when you do, okay?”

Doyoung doesn’t wait for an answer, and the bells tinkle when he leaves, door closing softly behind him.

Renjun hops onto the counter, tapping Donghyuck’s shoulder to get his attention. “Friend of yours?”

“Best friend’s brother’s boyfriend,” Donghyuck says, lips quirking upwards. “But yeah. Friend works too.”

Renjun arches an eyebrow. “I see. And how’d your best friend’s brother’s boyfriend know my name, hm?”

“I’m pretty sure all my friends know your name,” Donghyuck says honestly, and Renjun huffs, ducking his head as the tips of his ears turn red. “I...might have, uh, mentioned you. Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“...maybe a lot more than sometimes,” Donghyuck admits sheepishly.

Renjun bites down a smile. “You’ll have to introduce them to me.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck says. “They’ll love you.”

Renjun purses his lips, looking up at Donghyuck from underneath his eyelashes. “And do I get to meet your plants too?”

Donghyuck blinks confusedly at him. “I don’t see why not —”

“Tonight,” Renjun says, almost shyly. “I really want to see them, you know? So you should invite me back to your dorm after dinner. For...that.”

It clicks. “Oh,” Donghyuck says, blushing. “Yeah. That — yes. We can definitely do that too.”

He pauses. “Not actually, like, with Luna though,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “She’s at Doyoung’s house. But also, because she’s...”

He waves his hands in the air. “You know.”

Renjun’s lips twitch. “Prickly?”

Their eyes meet, and they last about five seconds before dissolving into laughter.

“Can you imagine?” Donghyuck says, wincing. “God, that’d be terrible.”

“The worst,” Renjun says, sounding so utterly smitten that Donghyuck just has to kiss him again.

Renjun pushes him away when their hands start to wander, and he bites his lip, taking Donghyuck’s hand. “Save it for later,” he murmurs, and tugs them towards the door. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Donghyuck teases, and the bell jingles as he opens the door. “After you?”

Renjun pulls him through the door, smile bright and beautiful, and Donghyuck is helpless to do anything but follow.

to: mark (###-###-####)

i’m calling in my favor
dorm’s mine tonight
don’t come home!!!