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Dejun comes back from his music theory class with a dopey smile and starry eyes.
Guanheng, foaming toothpaste at the mouth and running a hand through disheveled hair shaped like a bird’s nest, takes one look at him and sighs. “Who is it this time?”
“Hey,” Dejun mutters, only half defensive.
He hears gargling followed by violent spitting. It’s 1pm which…is actually pretty early for Guanheng. “Why are you up?”
His roommate comes out of the bathroom with minty fresh breath and somewhat calmed down hair. “Xuxi wants to grab lunch. Wanna join?”
Dejun smiles. It’s always been the three of them, and even after Guanheng and Xuxi started dating, they never left him out of anything. “Sure.”
They head out after Dejun sets down his backpack, deciding to treat themselves to a bus ride instead of trekking the twenty minutes to Xuxi’s dorm since they won’t be paying for lunch. Xuxi’s an athlete, which comes with perks such as free housing, and that means that he has the extra cash to make sure his boyfriend and best friend aren’t starving themselves to death.
“Hey Mark,” they greet when Xuxi’s roommate opens the door for them, clad only in a sweatshirt and boxers.
Mark grins before pulling them in. It’s been a while since Dejun has seen him because Mark has been busy with an upcoming hockey match, spending nearly all of his spare time at the rink. So he doesn’t complain when Mark climbs onto him koala style, burying his face into Dejun’s shoulder - he’s missed him too. The position, however, is quite the feat since they’re about the same height, Mark probably even a few centimeters taller. If this was a year ago, they would have ended up on the floor with broken backs, and Dejun can only be grateful that Xuxi’s been dragging him to the gym.
That’s how Xuxi finds them when he comes out of his room: Mark hanging off of Dejun while craning his head to engage in a conversation with Guanheng.
“I feel like you like my friends more than you like me,” Xuxi whines at his roommate.
Mark sticks out his tongue as he wraps his legs tighter around Dejun’s waist. “And if I do?”
Maybe because he sees Dejun start to turn red from the weight or maybe just because, Xuxi comes around and easily hauls Mark off.
“Lucas! Xuxi!” Mark screeches, making grabby hands as he gets lifted in the air like a plastic bag before being deposited on the kitchen counter.
Xuxi and Guanheng had both decided to take up English names when they started university. Well, Guanheng had decided, choosing to go by Hendery - which Dejun doesn’t even think is English - and Xuxi, well Xuxi was whipped enough to follow. Hendery and Lucas - the names fit them well, yet to Dejun, they’ll always just be Guanheng and Xuxi. Mark, in true testament of all the time they spend together, uses the names interchangeably - Dejun thinks it’s adorable.
With a last hug and a promise to go to his game, they bid Mark goodbye. Xuxi gets to pick the restaurant, because he’s the one paying and because both Dejun and Guanheng agree that anything beats their dwindling supply of cup ramen.
Dejun lets Guanheng and Xuxi have a moment as they walk. They’ve also both been busy, Guanheng with school and Xuxi with training. Dejun feels guilty for intruding on their private time, but then Xuxi slings an arm around his shoulder with a soft “I’ve missed you” as he pulls him into their conversation, and he knows they don’t mind.
“So who is it?” Guanheng asks after they’ve settled into a booth and ordered food.
Dejun pretends not to understand.
“Who’s who?” Xuxi asks.
“Dejun’s in love,” Guanheng whispers dramatically, as if he’s disclosing some grand secret.
“Again?” Xuxi asks at the same time Dejun exclaims “I’m not!”
There’s a moment of silence where Dejun glares at Guanheng, Xuxi looks between Dejun and Guanheng, and Guanheng just sips his water.
“So who is it?” Xuxi finally asks, settling his eyes on Dejun as he repeats Guanheng’s earlier question.
Dejun groans as Guanheng rewards Xuxi with a peck on the cheek - Dejun decides that he really needs to pick better battles. His friends are both looking at him expectedly, and Dejun deflates because he knows he can’t hide anything from them.
“Kim Doyoung, my music theory TA,” he eventually reveals, his cheeks warming from just saying the name out loud.
“Oh, the one doing that graduate program?” Xuxi immediately supplies.
Dejun should be used to Xuxi’s social butterfly tendencies by now, but he’s still surprised at his friend’s wide network of acquaintances.
“Yeah, that’s him,” he says as he eyes Guanheng warily. A quiet Guanheng is never a good sign.
“Dude, you have a thing for older guys,” his best friend finally says.
Dejun flushes. “I do not!”
Guanheng just looks at him. “Kun?”
“That was for like a day! It doesn’t count,” Dejun defends.
“Sure,” Guanheng drawls. “Ten?”
“That was pure admiration,” Dejun counters.
He looks to Xuxi for support, but his friend is suddenly very interested in the bread basket in front of them.
“Taeil?”
“His voice…”
“Yuta?” Guanheng fires back without waiting for Dejun to finish his sentence.
“I was scared of him!”
“Dude, you were horny for the man,” Xuxi cuts in, and maybe Dejun liked him better when he was silent.
“Johnny?”
“He was just…really hot,” Dejun says in a small voice as Guanheng smirks in victory.
Thankfully, their food arrive and Guanheng and Xuxi are both starved enough to use their mouth for something other than roasting Dejun.
It strikes Dejun that perhaps Guanheng is right - maybe he does have a penchant for crushing on older guys. But, Dejun thinks as he dreamily watches Doyoung take the podium in front of the class, it’s not like he’s exclusively attracted to older guys or anything. Plus, it’s not like these guys are ages older than him - just three, four years (except Xiao Zhan, who was a whopping eight, but he was ethereal and Dejun was young).
And Doyoung isn’t just an older guy. He has the face of an angel, voice of an angel…
“Donghyuck,” he now hears that melodious voice sigh. “Please put your Switch away.”
See? Patience of an angel too.
So what if Dejun’s never actually said a word to him? He’s had a week of classes with him - apparently the professor deemed himself too busy for an intro class, so he basically let Doyoung have free rein of the course. Dejun doesn’t mind, actually prefers it this way because he gets to admire Doyoung’s beauty and talent.
“Xiao Dejun?” He hears Doyoung call his name on his way out and his heart stutters.
Shit, has he been caught staring all class? Scratch that, all week?
Doyoung must sense his trepidation because he quickly gives him a radiant smile. “Kun tells me you were his best student.”
Dejun feels his cheeks warm with the surprise praise. “Did he? That’s quite nice of him to say.”
He had gotten quite close with Kun, his TA from the previous semester. Kun has become somewhat of an older brother figure to him, which is also why his short lived crush on the man horrifies him now.
Doyoung nods, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “I’m looking forward to your performance in this class!”
Dejun sucks in a breath. “Thank you, sunbaenim.”
“Hyung is fine,” Doyoung laughs sheepishly.
Dejun has to bite down a smile. “Thank you…Doyoung hyung.”
Music theory is hard. It’s science and math and music all rolled into one, and that’s what Dejun tells himself as he finds himself going to every help session and every open office hour. Most people take the first intro class as a joke, before they realize how much of a joke their GPA will be if they don’t get their shit together. It’s the reason why this second intro class is smaller by more than half, and why Dejun knows that the higher level classes have even less students.
Seeing Doyoung is just an added bonus.
“Hey Dejun, I was wondering if you were coming today!” Doyoung says, waving him into the room with his signature smile.
Yeah, okay, who is Dejun kidding: seeing Doyoung is the main reason and his A in the class is the added bonus.
“You know I always come,” he replies, dragging the chair that is across Doyoung’s desk and bringing it around so they can sit side by side. It’s become tradition now - started when Dejun had a question that required intensive explanation, and Doyoung had reached over and slid the chair over, motioning for Dejun to take a seat next to him, all without breaking stride in his explanation. After that, Dejun couldn’t sit across from Doyoung anymore, not when there was a closer, better option available.
“I don’t know why you do, you literally have the highest grade in the class,” Doyoung says now, returning to his work.
“Maybe I come just to see you,” Dejun teases, and he has to laugh at just how true the statement is - though Doyoung doesn’t know that.
Doyoung giggles, mumbling something about appreciating the company, and Dejun wonders if he’s hallucinating the older’s red ears.
He’s grateful that a couple of weeks into the semester, they can easily joke around with each other and that this hasn’t turned into Dejun becoming mute (case in point: Yuta) or tripping over his own feet (case in point: Johnny). But Doyoung is different - he’s nice, laughs at Dejun’s jokes, and cares about his opinions. Not to say that Yuta and Johnny and Ten and…well all his former crushes aren’t and wouldn’t, but Dejun had never exactly gotten to that point - or really any point beyond embarrassing himself to the next galaxy over - with any of them.
They work well together, almost frighteningly so. Doyoung usually leaves Dejun alone, knowing that he’ll pose any questions to him with a tap on the shoulder and a soft hyung. If another student wanders in, Dejun listens to Doyoung’s explanations, even if it’s a concept he already understands. Dejun’s presence in Doyoung’s office is so accepted that none of his classmates bat an eye anymore, though Donghyuck and Renjun go out of their way to wag their eyebrows suggestively at him every chance they get.
Dejun had once asked if he was bothering Doyoung, but the older had shook his head, sending him that heart-stopping smile: “I like spending time with you.” And if Dejun wasn’t whipped by then, he was a complete goner after that.
Dejun enjoys the time they spend together too - sometimes they fill the silence with conversation and sometimes they just bask in it. It’s never uncomfortable, and Dejun appreciates that.
A knock on the door makes both of them look up.
“Taeyong hyung!” Doyoung greets brightly, and Dejun tries not to frown.
Still, he’s not a rude asshole. “Hi Taeyong sunbaenim.”
Lee Taeyong is a new presence. Or, new in the sense that Dejun had never seen him until a month ago, but Xuxi tells him that the upperclassman had a back injury that forced him to take a leave of absence. Apparently, him and Doyoung go way back, and Dejun would be lying if he says that doesn’t bother him. He has no reason to be bothered, which makes it doubly frustrating.
“Hey Dejun! Mind if I steal Doyoung for a bit?” Taeyong asks, smile almost as bright as Doyoung’s.
It’s impossible to hate, or even mildly dislike, the guy. In fact, if Dejun wasn’t crushing so hard on Doyoung, he’d probably be falling heels over head for the dance co-captain.
“Nope, you guys go ahead! I was just finishing up anyway,” Dejun says, getting up and shoving his disappointment along with his laptop into his backpack.
Before he can slip out of the door, Doyoung grabs his arm, and Dejun stills.
“I’ll see you tomorrow in class?” Doyoung asks, soft, big eyes earnest and expectant.
“I’ll be there,” Dejun confirms. As if he would ever skip an opportunity to be with Doyoung.
But Doyoung doesn’t know that, and he gives Dejun a smile that goes straight to his heart. Can you blame a weak man for falling?
Dejun realizes just how much trouble he is in when they start hanging out outside of class and the office.
Doyoung tells him that he doesn’t have to come to every office hour, and Dejun panics thinking that he’s being kicked out. But Doyoung says that the office gets too stuffy and the nearby campus cafe is a much better studying environment.
So Dejun now shows up to office hours and cafe shop dates. Except they’re definitely not dates, as he vehemently tries to explain to Guanheng and Xuxi.
“We literally just sit there and study,” he insists, knees curled up to his chest as he sits on Guanheng’s bed.
“You know study dates are a thing right,” Guanheng asks, spinning around in his office chair.
“Yeah, me and Guanheng do it all the time,” Xuxi chimes in, his long limbs spread out on the bed the reason why Dejun is curled up in the corner.
Dejun snorts. “You mean Guanheng studies and you study him.”
Xuxi grins. “Exactly.”
“Dude, from what Xuxi’s said, it doesn’t seem like he’s lacking any friends so why would he keep asking you to go to a cafe with him?” Guanheng reasons, rolling his eyes at Dejun’s naivety.
It’s true, Doyoung has a lot of friends. Every time they head over to the cafe, he seems to run into at least one person he knows. It’s slightly overwhelming for Dejun, who can count the number of friends he has on his fingers.
He straightens up, accidentally kicking Xuxi in the gut. “Do you think he feels sorry for me? Maybe he thinks I don’t have friends.”
Guanheng snorts so hard he chokes. “I am amazed by your brain sometimes.”
But Dejun is getting worked up, and in these kinds of moments, no amount of reasoning or ridicule can stop him. “No, really, what if he thinks I’m a loser and that’s why he’s been hanging out with me? Because he feels bad that I have no friends?”
There’s a moment of silence where Guanheng and Xuxi allow him to drown in his paranoid fears, until Xuxi whacks him on the back.
“Ow,” he pouts.
“That was for kicking me earlier,” Xuxi tells him. “And for just being dumb.”
“You’re literally impossible,” Guanheng agrees. “How have you survived 20 years without your brain exploding with all that overthinking?”
“You usually tell me I don’t think enough,” Dejun mutters, plopping back down into a comfortable, less worked up position.
“Just don’t stress it,” Xuxi advises. “This is the farthest along you’ve gotten with any of your crushes.”
Dejun grimaces. Kind of sad when the “farthest along” is doing homework together, but he’ll have to take it.
“Hyung?” Dejun asks, “Can you help me with this?”
They’re back in Doyoung’s borrowed office after office hours are over, the rain outside deterring them from relocating to the cafe.
“Hmm?” Doyoung shifts his eyes to Dejun’s laptop screen next to him as he scrapes his chair closer.
They’re so close that Dejun can see the words from his screen reflected in Doyoung’s eyes, that if Dejun leaned in just a little, their knees would knock into each other.
“This question,” he breathes, because he’s afraid Doyoung will lean away if he’s any louder.
He’s not sure why he asks questions when nine times out of ten, he gets distracted by Doyoung. Something about those focused eyes, that soothing voice, and just his mere presence sends Dejun into the strangest mix of frenzy and comfort.
“Did you get that?” Doyoung asks, and it brings Dejun out of his reverie.
Seeing his blank stare, Doyoung laughs, reaching over the table to grab pen and paper. “Here, it might make more sense if I draw it out.”
This time, Dejun forces himself to pay attention, if only not to embarrass himself when Doyoung asks again.
“Make sense?”
“Yup.” And it does, because Doyoung is Doyoung, and he’s a great teacher. “So if this note is—“
It happens fast, Dejun reaching for the pen at the same time Doyoung shifts, and suddenly both pen and Dejun are halfway in Doyoung’s lap.
Doyoung blinks and Dejun flushes.
They both freeze for a moment until Dejun lets out a nervous, high-pitched laugh. “Sorry hyung, I—“
But then Doyoung reaches over and brushes a strand of hair out of Dejun’s eyes, and he stills. In Doyoung’s eyes, he sees hesitation, but also wonder and contemplation. Dejun’s afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid that any movement will shatter—
“Doyoung hyung!” The door that had been left ajar swings open.
Dejun jumps and hits his knee on the desk.
Donghyuck stands tall in the doorway, and Dejun makes a pointed effort not to look at either him or Doyoung because he’s positive Donghyuck looks like he’s having the time of his life and Doyoung…well, Dejun’s not sure he wants to know what Doyoung looks like at present.
“Office hours are over, Donghyuck,” Doyoung says, and it kills Dejun a little that his voice is calm, even, unaffected.
“I should…yeah, I should go,” Dejun mumbles, grabbing his things and tripping over to the door before his laptop is even fully packed into his backpack.
The last thing he hears as he runs out is Donghyuck’s sing-song voice addressing Doyoung: “Right, then why was Dejun here?”
It’s never a good thing when Liu Yangyang calls you at 8am in the morning.
“Good morning, lover boy,” is what greets him as soon as he answers with a sleepy voice.
“I’m going to kill Donghyuck,” Dejun groans, staring up at his ceiling, suddenly wide awake.
“I’m honestly offended that you told him and not me,” Yangyang replies, and though he’s joking, Dejun can hear the whining pout through the phone.
It makes him smile. He’s known Yangyang not quite as long as he has Guanheng and Xuxi, but long enough. It was through him that Dejun got to know Donghyuck and Renjun, along with the rest of their same aged friend group.
“I didn’t tell him anything,” Dejun assures him. “You know how Donghyuck is.”
“At least you talk to Doyoung hyung. Remember when you fell down in front of Johnny hyung and were so embarrassed that you had to wake up an hour earlier every day to get on a different bus to avoid him? Or when Yuta hyung was convinced you were mute because you literally didn’t speak in front of him?”
“Nice talk Yangyang, goodbye,” Dejun grits out through clenched teeth and hangs up mid Yangyang cackle.
Yeah, he’s definitely known Yangyang long enough.
He does shoot a text asking to hang out soon though, because no matter how much of a pain in the ass Yangyang is, he’s always good company and Dejun misses him.
It’s too early to be awake on a day he doesn’t have lectures until the afternoon, but Yangyang has effectively brought back horrifying memories that shatter any hopes of him falling back asleep.
He gets up, deciding he’ll make use of the morning by going for a run.
When he steps out of his room, he sees Xuxi in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil on the stove. While seeing Xuxi in his and Guanheng’s shared apartment is nothing surprising, seeing Xuxi out and about before noon—let alone at 8am—is cause for shock.
“Guanheng’s been feeling sick since last night,” Xuxi explains before Dejun can even ask. “I’m going to make him some ginger tea.”
“Is he okay?” Dejun asks, alarmed. Guanheng had seemed fine at dinner.
Xuxi waves his worry away. “I think he ate something bad.”
Dejun nods. It’s almost sickeningly sweet how attentive Xuxi is. Not just as a boyfriend either, Dejun knows that if it had been him with food poisoning, Xuxi would have been just as concerned and caring. It’s etched into his bones, and Dejun couldn’t be more grateful to call him one of his best friends.
“You staying until practice?” Dejun asks, grabbing a granola bar off the counter.
Xuxi curses under his breath. “I forgot.”
“It’s in the afternoon right?” He waits for confirmation before continuing. “I can grab your gear.”
“Would you really?” Xuxi gives him puppy eyes, as if he hadn’t already volunteered his help.
Dejun rolls his eyes. “I’m going for a run so I can swing by your place.”
Xuxi launches himself across the kitchen onto Dejun, who, well aware of his friend’s affectionate tendencies and the force of said tendencies, had already braced himself for impact.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the best, I know,” Dejun grins, patting Xuxi on the back as he tries not to fall under the weight of a man nearly twice his size.
It takes him a little over ten minutes to run the mile or so to Xuxi’s dorm. He groans as he climbs up the stairs - it’s been a while since he’s done any kind of cardio, and he’s not proud of how out of breath he is.
He lets himself in with Xuxi’s keys, and he’s surprised to find Mark’s door open and the boy nowhere in sight.
Xuxi’s gear is stuffed in his closet, and Dejun’s glad that it consists only of a duffel bag - most of the rest is in the gym’s locker room.
He’s about to head out when he passes by the bathroom. Xuxi has a big white bathtub that is an absolute dream compared to Dejun’s and Guanheng’s small stall with the weakest pressure shower head. He pauses and looks at the time - it’s not even 9am yet.
“Can I use your bathtub?” He asks as soon as Xuxi picks up the phone.
He can nearly feel the eye roll. “Bath bombs and towels are under the sink.”
He emerges from the steaming bathroom nearly an hour later, skin flushed pink, muscles relaxed, and head in the clouds. He’s got a towel wrapped around his waist, and decides that his sweatshirt is too hot to wear. He pads into Mark’s room and heads for the closet - they’re way closer in size than he and Xuxi are.
He hears the front door open just as he grabs a random t-shirt.
“Mark! Markie~” Dejun sings, in the most fantastic mood after the most fantastic bath. He heads out of the room with shirt in hand. “I’m borrowing this. Where’d you go—“
It’s Doyoung who stares at him as he emerges.
“D—Doyoung hyung?” Dejun squeaks. He’s suddenly very aware that he is shirtless in front of his crush, and the only thing that keeps him from shrieking in horror is that he’s been hitting the gym regularly with Xuxi so he knows he looks good.
“Dejun? What are you…” Doyoung trails off, looking away. “Um, I’m here to, uh, return Mark’s guitar.”
“You know Mark?” Dejun shrugs the shirt on quickly and walks over to accept the guitar out of Doyoung’s hands. “He finally got someone to fix this old thing, huh.”
Doyoung nods, still not looking at him, and Dejun realizes that although he’s got a shirt on now, he’s still pantless. The thought makes him back away from Doyoung, the guitar a welcome navel blockage.
“I, uh, I need to go. I’ll see you…later. Yeah, see you later,” Doyoung mumbles, and then he runs out the door.
Dejun is left standing in an apartment that’s not his, in a shirt that’s not his, in a towel that’s not his, desperately wishing at the moment that he was not him.
“He bolted!” Dejun wails to an unaffected Sicheng.
He’d run into him on his way back home and had immediately accosted the poor guy to listen to his woes in a nearby coffee shop.
“Like you did in his office the other day?” Sicheng asks, sipping on his iced Americano.
If possible, Dejun wails harder. “How do you know about that?”
“Renjun,” is Sicheng’s answer, which means that everyone in their friend group probably knows.
Yangyang shows up in the middle of his breakdown and laughs at him for a good five minutes. “How do you manage to embarrass yourself like this in front of every single guy you’re interested in?”
Dejun glowers at him, chewing aggressively on his straw. “It’s a gift.”
Yangyang appeases him with a pat on the stomach. “Hey, at least you could show these off.”
Bless Liu Yangyang, sometimes.
“He hangs out with Lee Taeyong, I’m sure he’s seen better,” Sicheng supplies casually.
And leave it to Dong Sicheng to shatter all of Dejun’s hopes and dreams in the calmest, most nonchalant manner.
Dejun whimpers, sliding down into his chair as Yangyang’s pats turn sympathetic.
He hasn’t heard from Doyoung since the incident. It’s been three whole days and he has not heard a peep from the guy.
“You’re being dramatic,” Guanheng tells him, barely listening as he stuffs three weeks worth of laundry into the washing machine.
“I am not!” Dejun paces outside. “I have class with him tomorrow, oh my god I’m going to pass out.”
“Right,” Guanheng mutters under his breath. “Not dramatic at all.”
“Maybe he won’t show up. I mean he’s been avoiding me for this long already anyway,” Dejun reasons, though he’s not sure that makes him feel any better.
Guanheng snorts. “You sure do think highly of yourself. The man isn’t going to give up his paying TA position for you, bud. And it’s been three days, not three years, calm down.”
Dejun nods. Right. Guanheng is making sense, as he sometimes does. “Okay, yeah, so what if I don’t show up? For the rest of the semester?”
“Then you’d fail the class, flunk out of school, and be a sad, sad man the rest of your life.”
“I’m already a sad man,” Dejun mumbles.
“Plus, I’d never let you have a repeat of the Johnny era of your life,” Guanheng adds.
“Why does everyone bring that up?” Dejun throws irritated hands up in the air.
Guanheng aims a ball of dirty socks at his head. “Just go to class and stop being a wuss.”
Dejun is standing outside the door of the classroom, having a last minute debate with himself about whether to go in or not. Just as he’s convincing himself that maybe the wuss life is for him, he feels two hands clasp him in place on either shoulder. Turning around, he sees knowing grins on Donghyuck’s and Renjun’s faces.
He sighs. “Who was it? Guanheng? Yangyang? Sicheng?”
The two look at each other before simultaneously answering, “All of the above.”
“We had an intervention of sorts for you,” Renjun adds.
“You can’t have an intervention without me being present for it,” Dejun says, exasperated.
Donghyuck shrugs. “Bottom line is, you’re going to class and we’re making sure that you do.”
Dejun snorts as they steer him toward the open door. “Babysitters? Really guys?”
“Escorts,” Renjun corrects with a cheery grin.
Dejun’s so busy rolling his eyes at his friends that he momentarily forgets his predicament - until he walks into the room and sees Doyoung at the front, and his steps falter. But the pressure on his shoulders are firm, and he is forcibly steered to a seat, Donghyuck and Renjun not letting go until they literally shove him into the chair. Then they take the seats next to him, successfully caging him between them - in case he bolted or something, which he was definitely not thinking about!
He accidentally makes eye contact with Doyoung in the middle of lecture, and the indifference in the other’s eyes shocks him into immediately dropping his gaze. Doyoung never looks at him like that - hell, he doesn’t even look at Donghyuck like that. Doyoung’s eyes are one of Dejun’s favorite things about him - and that’s saying a lot. They’re always warm, brightening up in Dejun’s presence.
He stares a hole into his laptop for the rest of class, preferring a dark screen over cold eyes.
He’s so agitated and restless that when Doyoung finally dismisses the class, Dejun nearly flies out of his seat. The intervention must not have required after class escorting, because Donghyuck and Renjun let him go. His steps unconsciously slow as they near the front of the room, and Dejun hates himself for hoping that Doyoung will call out his name.
He doesn’t, and Dejun is left swallowing thick disappointment as he stumbles out of the room.
It’s embarrassing how hard his heart is pounding and how he’s gasping for air. But this is the longest he’s ever liked someone, and liked him so much. It may have started out as a simple crush like all the others, but it’s become clear that Kim Doyoung is Dejun’s first love.
The realization makes him skid to a stop in the middle of the hallway.
He’s in the process of wondering if his first love ended before it even began when he hears his name being called out.
“Dejun!”
It’s a familiar voice, but not the one he had hoped to hear.
“Dejun! I finally got my guitar fixed so we can—“ Mark comes to a stop in front of him and trails off. “What’s wrong?”
Dejun wonders if his panic is written so clearly on his face, but Mark has always been able to pick up on his strange moods. Mark studies him for a moment before pulling him into a less crowded hallway, out of the main traffic.
Before Dejun can assure his friend that he’s fine, Mark has pulled him into a signature Markoala hug. Dejun stumbles a bit, but steadies them enough so that Mark isn’t slipping off. His protest dies down in his throat as Mark snuggles close, his hair tickling Dejun’s neck.
Unlike Guanheng who would ask a million questions or Xuxi who would ask who he has to beat up for him, Mark offers silent support in physical contact. Dejun relaxes into the hug. It’s a typical Mark Lee hug, in which he’s hanging nearly all of his body weight onto Dejun so that even though Dejun’s the one needing the comfort, it feels like he’s the one giving support. Right now, it’s exactly what he needs.
“Thank you,” he mumbles into Mark’s hair, receiving a small squeeze back in response.
“I think he’s dead,” a whisper cuts through the silence.
“I’m literally not,” Dejun grumbles, sitting up to glare at Guanheng and Xuxi, who are not so subtly peering into his room.
“You okay?” Guanheng asks, uncharacteristically soft.
Dejun sighs. He knows his friends are just worried about him. “Yeah. Sorry, just tired.”
“You’ve been tired for half a week,” Xuxi points out, and winces when Guanheng elbows him in the gut.
“That’s rude. What Xuxi means,” Guanheng says, opening the door fully, “is that you gotta get ahold of yourself.”
Dejun stares pointedly. “How is that any less rude?”
Guanheng shrugs, coming into the room and jumping onto the bed next to Dejun. “Oh come on, you’ve been moping ever since last week!”
Dejun pouts. He knows he’s being dramatic but it’s his first love! He deserves the self-deprecating, all-hope-is-lost, my heart is shattered type of recuperation that all movie breakups show. Not that he was even in a relationship in the first place to go through a breakup, but, you get it.
“According to Jungwoo hyung, Doyoung hyung’s been feeling like shit too. I saw him on campus today and he really does look terrible. Almost as terrible as you,” Xuxi tells him.
Dejun scowls, even as his heart thumps wildly in his chest at the information. Why is Doyoung feeling shitty? He’s the one who doesn’t want anything to do with Dejun anymore.
“Can you please just go talk to him?” Guanheng asks, gentler this time. “For your sake and ours.”
Xuxi joins them on the bed. “Yeah, we miss you.”
Dejun’s heart softens.
Guanheng nods seriously. “Mark’s not nearly as fun as you to make fun of, he just laughs everything off.”
Dejun whacks them both on the back of the head.
Dejun’s not sure where he gets the courage. Maybe it’s from Xuxi telling him that Doyoung’s been feeling like crap when he has no reason (or right, Dejun’s petty mind snarks) to or maybe it’s from being annoyed at himself for being the coward that he is and hiding in his room for a week. Whatever it is, he finds himself marching down to the office. It’s outside office hours, but Dejun knows that Doyoung likes to be in the office for at least a few hours after to finish up homework or grading.
“Office hours are—“ Doyoung shuts his mouth when he sees Dejun at the door.
Dejun tries not to focus on the wariness in Doyoung’s eyes as he barges in and closes the door behind him. At least the coldness has disappeared.
For a minute, neither of them say anything. He does look terrible, Dejun thinks as his heart pangs painfully. Doyoung’s eyes are tired (which might be why they’re no longer cold - but Dejun pushes that thought away), his eye bags stretch deep, and his lips are chapped.
“Hyung…” Dejun says, and it comes out soft, accusatory, hurt, confused.
Doyoung sighs deeply, closing his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair. When he opens them again, Dejun sees, through a thinly veiled guard, conflicting guilt.
“Hyung,” he repeats, for good measure.
“I’m sorry,” Doyoung finally whispers, and he can’t meet his eyes.
Dejun swallows his hurt. “Did I…do something wrong?”
At this, Doyoung’s eyes dart up in surprise. “No! No, of course not.”
The denial gives Dejun another wave of confidence that has him moving forward until he’s right in front of Doyoung, standing while Doyoung looks up at him from his seat. Dejun rests his hip against the desk; he’s trembling, and he’s not sure his legs alone can keep him supported.
“I miss you,” he quietly confesses, and he can see Doyoung’s breath stutter.
“Dejun…”
But he plows on, afraid to lose momentum. “I miss you, hyung. You can’t just…you can’t just ghost me after all the time we spent together! Especially without an explanation. Especially especially if I haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve become a part of my life and I…you…you can’t just disappear like that.”
He had trailed his eyes to the floor mid monologue, embarrassed, but he looks up again when Doyoung’s hand reaches for him.
This time, the remorse is evident in Doyoung’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Dejun. I’m so sorry. I just…I needed time to sort through some feelings and I couldn’t do that with you always present so I…I’m sorry.”
Dejun’s eyes move back and forth from Doyoung’s face to Doyoung’s hand on his arm. “What feelings?”
Doyoung is quiet for a moment before dropping his hand, and Dejun immediately misses his touch. To prevent himself from flinging himself at Doyoung and doing something embarrassing, he focuses on the other’s expression. Doyoung is chewing on his bottom lip, and seems to be debating whether to answer the question.
Finally, he sighs again, and whispers, “My feelings. Feelings for you.”
Dejun inhales sharply. “What did you say?”
He had to have heard wrong.
Doyoung smiles, but it comes out more like a grimace. “I like you, Dejun. Which is absurd, because I’m your teacher, and I’m older, and you already have—“
“I like you too,” Dejun blurts out once he’s found his voice again.
Doyoung pauses. “What?”
Dejun’s heart is still pounding in his chest and he’s not positive this isn’t a fever dream. “Hyung, I’ve liked you since the first day I saw you.”
Doyoung laughs nervously, again passing a hand through his tussled hair. “Is this a joke?”
“That’s my line,” Dejun mutters.
“But…Mark?”
“Mark?” Dejun repeats, frowning.
“That day. You came out of Mark’s room. Shirtless,” Doyoung emphasizes, averting his eyes.
The blush on his cheeks is cute, but Dejun is too confused to admire it fully.
“Yeah, I had just—“ Dejun’s eyes widen as he realizes what Doyoung is implying. “Wait! It’s not like that. Me and Mark aren’t…we’re not dating. Or, uh, doing anything else.”
And yeah, that does the trick because Doyoung peers up at him curiously. “You’re not?”
Dejun laughs loudly, and it’s a mix of relief, absurdity, and maybe a little hope. “Mark’s a friend. A really good friend, but just a friend.”
Doyoung still seems confused. “That day after class though, I saw you guys in the hallway.”
“You did?” Dejun asks, and his stomach somersaults at the thought that maybe Doyoung came after him. “I was feeling down because a certain someone was ignoring me and Mark was being a good friend and comforting me.”
Doyoung flushes again, and this time, Dejun does take the time to appreciate the beauty. With color back in his cheeks, Doyoung looks more lively and beautiful. Dejun wonders if the thought of him and Mark dating bothered the older that much. He laughs, just a tiny bit pleased at the possibility.
“You’re laughing at me,” Doyoung accuses, but he cracks a smile too.
Dejun shakes his head. “I’m just…I’m happy.”
Doyoung’s eyes soften and he pushes himself out of his seat. When he pulls Dejun into his arms, Dejun thinks his heart is going to jump out of his ribcage. But he thinks he can hear Doyoung’s racing heart too, so he hooks his chin onto Doyoung’s shoulder and squeezes his eyes shut.
“I can’t believe you thought I was dating Mark,” Dejun mumbles, arms loose around Doyoung’s waist.
Doyoung laughs, and Dejun can feel the vibration run through his entire body. “You came out of his room nearly naked, what was I supposed to think?”
Dejun buries his face into Doyoung’s neck. “I can’t believe you ignored me for a week because of that.”
At that, Doyoung pulls away, to which Dejun lets out an embarrassing whine of protest. Doyoung looks at him with a fond smile, and Dejun flushes pink.
“I needed time to think,” Doyoung explains, a finger coming up to caress Dejun’s cheek, as if fascinated by the color that blooms on it.
“About what?” Dejun asks dumbly, shivering under the touch.
“Everything,” Doyoung says simply. “You. Me. Us. How I liked you more than just a student. How I’m older than you. How I felt after finding out you were potentially seeing someone. Just…everything.”
Dejun scoffs. “You talk like you’re a fossil.”
Doyoung laughs at that, bringing their foreheads together. “Not quite a fossil, but older.”
Dejun sees the worry in Doyoung’s eyes. “Does that…does that bother you?”
Doyoung shakes his head. “No, I guess not. I just feel like as hyung I should be more conscious and careful of my actions so I don’t hurt you. Or me.”
“I really like you, hyung,” Dejun says softly after a moment.
“Yeah?” Doyoung gives a small smile that has Dejun melting. “Me too.”
Xuxi says that to celebrate Dejun finally pulling a guy, they should celebrate with a house party. In reality, he just needs an excuse to invite basically the entire student body to his apartment.
Dejun’s not a party guy, but being friends with Xuxi and Guanheng his whole life has adapted him into not hating the party life.
He’s not surprised when he can start feeling the vibrations from the deep bass as soon as he steps out of the elevator of Xuxi’s and Mark’s apartment floor.
Doyoung had promised to swing by after meeting with his study group. Dejun had been somewhat hesitant to extend the invitation, only because he didn’t know if Doyoung would enjoy being surrounded by drunk college kids, but Guanheng and Xuxi had been adamant.
So Dejun finds himself in front of a familiar door, the pounding music already causing his head to hurt.
He briefly wonders if he’s underdressed - he’d thrown on an all black outfit, the fitted shirt and tight skinny jeans the only suitable clean clothes he had in his closet. But then he lets himself into the apartment and sees Ten dancing on the kitchen counter basically not dressed, and decides that yeah, his outfit is okay.
“Why’s Ten hyung naked on the counter?” Dejun asks Mark, shouting over the music.
Mark shrugs. “When’s Ten hyung not naked? And not dancing?”
It’s a fair point, and Dejun nods as he accepts a cup from his friend. He takes a sip and immediately grimaces. “I thought we agreed that Yangyang wasn’t allowed near the punch bowl anymore.”
Mark laughs at his expression. “Kun hyung got soft.”
“Of course he did,” Dejun mutters, taking another sip of the extremely strong cocktail. Judging from the taste, everyone at this party is going to be hammered in no time. It certainly explains Ten twerking on the counter and flinging his shirt over his head like a rodeo, as well as Xuxi running aggressively toward a very alarmed Sicheng.
“Where’s Guanheng?” Dejun asks, looking around for his best friend. He’d arrived about two hours before the party started to help clean and get supplies.
“Almost knocked out,” Mark grins, gesturing to the sofa, where Kun is trying to force some water down a not very sober Guanheng’s throat.
“Christ.” Dejun peers at his drink with newfound fear.
“Christ,” Mark repeats as they watch Jeno and Jaemin slither up to a mildly uncomfortable, fairly confused, and highly panicked Shotaro. “I’m going to go rescue Taro.”
“Good luck,” Dejun calls after him, because Jeno and Jaemin are a force to be reckoned with.
The door opens as Dejun is taking a sip of his drink, and he promptly chokes on it. Doyoung stands in the doorway, looking slightly dazed as Chenle and Jisung run past him, screeching, with Sungchan trailing a little behind trying to balance three cups of what Dejun hopes is apple juice in his hand.
He’s barely had time to worry if the three high schoolers should even be here when Doyoung sees him. The way his eyes light up makes Dejun weak in the knees, and he gravitates toward that light like a moth. Before he can reach him though, Doyoung is intercepted by Jaehyun, who slings an arm around his shoulder and steers him away. Doyoung throws an apologetic smile behind him, and Dejun just waves him away.
“Xiao Dejun!” He hears behind him, and winces.
Guanheng is up and about, wobbling toward him on unsteady feet. Kun gives Dejun a shrug that says, he’s your responsibility now.
“Whoa there,” Dejun murmurs as he catches Guanheng with both arms to prevent a disastrous fall.
“Xiao Dejun,” Guanheng slurs again, wrapping himself around Dejun Mark-style.
Dejun, way too used to taking care of a drunk Guanheng, moves them so that Guanheng’s deadweight doesn’t bring them both down.
“You!” Guanheng screams, jabbing a finger into Dejun’s chest.
“Yes, me,” Dejun says, wincing slightly from the force and from the sound.
“Listen to me,” Guanheng says seriously, or as seriously as an intoxicated Guanheng who’s had one too many Yangyang spiked drink can be, and plants both hands on Dejun’s shoulders. “You deserve happiness.”
Dejun pauses. It’s not uncommon for Guanheng to get emotionally sappy when he’s drunk, but that’s usually reserved for his cats back at home, Louis and Leon, or Dejun’s childhood dog Bella.
“You’re great! So great,” Guanheng continues. “So you deserve someone great. Doyoung hyung is great! You guys are great. Great together! Yup, so great.”
Dejun hides an endeared laugh. “Yeah? You like him?”
Guanheng nods vigorously. “I like Doyoung hyung! I like him for you. He makes you happy!”
“He does,” Dejun agrees softly.
“Good. You deserve happiness, Dejun. Because you’re great. So great!” Guanheng pats Dejun’s back aggressively.
“I’ve got him,” a deep rumble comes from behind them, and Dejun turns to see Xuxi materialize out of nowhere to slip a steadying arm around Guanheng.
“Great,” Guanheng mumbles, snuggling closer into Xuxi.
“Thanks,” Dejun says as Xuxi carries a wobbly Guanheng toward the couch.
“Hi,” a voice sounds in his ear, loud and clear over the booming music.
“Hi,” he repeats as he swivels around and comes face to face with Doyoung.
When Doyoung steps closer to wrap his arms loosely around Dejun’s waist, he feels his heart stutter in his chest as he looks up into twinkling eyes.
“How was group study?” Dejun asks, breath also stuttering.
“Boring,” Doyoung tells him, leaning down to nose into Dejun’s neck.
“Yeah?” Dejun breathes, pulling him closer. “Missed you.”
Ten comes barreling down the hall, still with his shirt off, and nearly sloshes his entire Yangyang concoction onto them. He pauses in front of them. “You guys are cute.”
They’re left staring after him as he continues on his way.
“Wanna get out of here?” Doyoung asks, and if he notices Dejun’s flushed cheeks he doesn’t point them out.
“Yeah,” Dejun agrees readily.
The night air is cool, and Dejun easily slips his hand into Doyoung’s warm one. They stroll aimlessly, enjoying each other’s company.
Dejun catches Doyoung glancing at him a few times, but each time he tries to make eye contact, the other looks away with a tiny smile.
“Hyung,” Dejun whines.
Doyoung laughs, finally looking at him. “You’re so cute.”
Maybe it’s the liquid courage in his system, maybe it’s Doyoung teasing him, maybe it’s the street light illuminating just the two of them - Dejun feels a surge of confidence that makes him tug on Doyoung’s arm to bring his head down and lean up to quickly plant a chaste kiss on Doyoung’s lips.
When he rocks back onto his heels, he can feel the heat on his cheeks.
“What was that for?” Doyoung asks, amused.
“Hyung,” Dejun whines again.
Doyoung isn’t cruel. He laughs gently, stepping close to wrap one arm around Dejun’s waist while the other weaves through his hair. When he finally leans down for a proper kiss, they both melt into it. Doyoung’s lips are plush, and when he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, Dejun shivers. Doyoung tries to pull away, maybe to ask Dejun if he’s cold, but Dejun presses closer.
When they do pull away, Dejun immediately swings his arms around Doyoung’s neck in a hug that almost lifts him off the ground.
“Hyung, I really like you,” Dejun mumbles, pressing a kiss onto the smooth skin at the base of Doyoung’s neck. Yeah, definitely the liquid courage.
Doyoung’s arms go around him easily and securely. “I really like you too.”
When Dejun finally lets go, Doyoung tucks him into his side as they continue their stroll. Dejun doesn’t like to be manhandled - because of his stature, he’s gotten used to it. With Doyoung though, he likes to feel small, and he wants to be taken cared of, to be spoiled rotten, to be protected.
Dejun looks up into twinkling eyes and soft smiles and thinks that he’s glad he went through the stages of grief of a first love breakup before experiencing his first love because he never wants this - this kissed breathless, butterflies in his stomach, euphoric high he feels when he’s with Doyoung - to end.