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Doyoung stirred slightly, feeling something soft prickle at the shell of his ear. He grumbled in his sleep, turning his body towards the warmth against his back. His face met a broad chest and he relaxed into it, sighing as he readjusted himself to comfort. The prickling feeling came again not even two seconds later, and Doyoung all but whined into the fabric of the shirt he was pressed against.
The prickle moved down the shell of his ear to his lobe, causing a quick shiver to run down the top of Doyoung’s spine and leave his neck jerking awkwardly. His sleep was seeping out of him, and Doyoung was about to begrudgingly open his eyes to see just what the hell was bothering him when suddenly a very wet, very sticky stuck itself into his ear and he cried out, reeling back in surprise.
“What the fuck?” He screeched, sleep-idled mind suddenly blaring alarms of distress as his hand shot up to cover his ear, the substance coating the inside of his ear.
He heard cackling behind him, and turned around only to be greeted with the sight of Ten at the door, doubled over in laughter as he clutched his stomach. Doyoung prayed to every god under the sun that he restrained himself and most definitely did not reach for his wand under the pillow and cast a rather colorful jinx onto Ten that would almost surely land him in detention.
“Ten,” Doyoung seethed, anger bubbling under his skin like lava popping out of the cracks of the earth near a volcano.
Ten’s laughter didn’t cease and only grew in volume as he took in Doyoung’s face. It was like he had a complete disregard for his life — and Doyoung suspected he really didn’t (Slytherins were weird like that).
The noise from his laughing awoke the sleeping body still lying next to Doyoung on the bed, who groaned before sitting up, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “Wa’s going on?” Yuta slurred, voice thick with slumber.
Doyoung sent Ten another glare before directing his attention to Yuta. “Nothing, Yuu,” He said quietly, rubbing the side of Yuta’s arm soothingly, which only served to bring Yuta’s already drooping eyelids closer to fully shutting.
Ten scoffed from his spot at the door, but Doyoung couldn’t care less about the Slytherin right now when his boyfriend who hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the entire week in favor of working relentlessly on new Quidditch practice regimes to help the Slytherin team take another Quidditch Cup.
“Try going back to sleep,” Doyoung continued, sending Yuta a small smile, who gave Doyoung a tiny nod in return. He didn’t lay back down, however, and instead leaned forward to press his face into the junction of Doyoung’s neck and shoulder, light pants of breath leaving his lips every few seconds as he staggered between states of consciousness.
Doyoung’s heart tugged at the sight of his sleepy boyfriend, hair tufted out in crazy directions, unmanageable and akin to that of a lion’s mane. He couldn’t help but reach up and try to pat down some of the hair, though the efforts immediately turned out futile as Yuta’s hair refused to cooperate.
He heard the sound of a trunk being opened on the other side of the room and looked over, just remembering once more that they weren’t alone and that Ten was still present. The anger returned to Doyoung’s chest, but it simmered down to a dull pulse — he was too tired to truly get angry at the moment.
“You should have seen the look on your face,” Ten snickered, having caught that Doyoung was watching him. He was unapologetic as he rummaged through the trunk — Yuta’s trunk Doyoung slowly realized. “Where the hell is the map?” He muttered to himself, throwing articles of clothing and random books out of the trunk without a care in the world.
“What map?” Doyoung asked, eyebrows raising up in suspicion and growing annoyance at the mess piling up around Ten’s feet.
Ten halted momentarily, hesitating as his head peaked out of the top of the trunk to look at Doyoung. “What map? I didn’t say anything about a map.”
Doyoung stared, unimpressed with Ten’s shitty excuse for a lie. With a roll of his eyes, he leaned over to retrieve his wand from underneath the pillow, careful not to stir Yuta still resting against his shoulder. With a flick of his wrist, he waved his wand, and the drawer to Yuta’s nightstand opened, a piece of parchment flying out of it and landing right in Ten’s hands.
“ That map?” He said, raising his eyebrows once more as Ten looked down at the piece of parchment, completely blank to those who didn’t know how to use it.
Ten grabbed his own wand and placed the tip to the parchment, whispering a quiet “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good”, before inked black lines exploded from where Ten’s wand touched the paper, spreading out to every corner of the parchment as the map formed itself.
“This was supposed to only be our thing,” Ten sulked, a pout forming on his bottom lip as he looked back to Doyoung. “So much for bros before hoes.”
Doyoung only shrugged in reply, not really feeling any inkling of sympathy for the Slytherin after he had so rudely awoken both Doyoung and Yuta not even five minutes prior.
“I knew even before Yuta and I started dating, for your information,” he quipped, feeling his patience run feather thin as he looked at the mess still cluttered on the floor around Ten, who seemed to not even notice. “What you two do with it is none of my business as long as you don’t go putting yourself or others in danger.”
Ten huffed quietly, standing up off the floor and dusting the fronts of his knees. He quickly whispered out “mischief managed” the lines on the map evaporating and revealing a blank piece of parchment once more. “That takes all the fun out of it though,” Ten whined, pocketing the map and his wand. “Whatever, see you later,” He quickly finished before vanishing out of the room.
Doyoung let out a soft sigh, feeling the bristling of a headache forming. He looked over to the small alarm clock sitting on the nightstand, small neon red numbers reading 8:21 AM .
“God it’s not even nine,” He breathed, a headache pulsing from being awoken so abruptly.
Yuta hummed next to him, the sound vibrating against Doyoung’s skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Did Ten leave?” His words muffled against the skin of Doyoung’s shoulder.
“Yeah, he left,” Doyoung responded, his heart softening as he stared down at his sleepy boyfriend. “Let’s go back to bed.”
Another hum left Yuta’s lips, and he easily leaned away from Doyoung’s shoulder to drop back onto the sheets of the bed with a small oof . Through drooping eyelids he looked up at Doyoung, opening his arms up as much as he could with fatigue clinging to his muscles.
Doyoung couldn’t stop the smile that graced his lips as he easily fell into Yuta’s arms, headache already starting to dissipate at just being able to properly hold Yuta again.
Their breaths mingled and heartbeats matched rhythm as they fell into slumber once more, snoring as the sun lazily rose higher into the sky and started the day.
***
The start of November meant the start of the quidditch season, which also meant practices shifted from three nights a week to almost every night, all schedules allowing.
Doyoung knew how much Quidditch meant to Yuta, his boyfriend gushing countless times when it's just them and the stars above them on cool summer nights about how much he wants to go pro, play in the big leagues and make a name for himself as a chaser. Doyoung always supported his dream, knowing he was equally talented and hardworking to achieve anything he put his mind to.
It also meant Doyoung was back to empty beds without something to hold that wasn’t a plushie (though Yuta’s chest wasn’t exactly as soft as his favorite polar bear pillow). They had only been dating for a few months, sharing a bed for even less time, and yet Doyoung couldn’t remember a time when his bed had felt so cold .
It was well past curfew, all of Doyoung’s roommates snoring soundly in each of their beds, the lights of the castle gone and shrouding the entire campus in a black blanket that brought with it unimaginable cold to Doyoung’s sheets.
He dared not check the time on the alarm clock next to his bed — a matching set he bought with Yuta when they returned to London after the previous school year ended. He knew whatever the small red numbers would tell him would be something he didn’t want to know.
With a sigh, Doyoung kicked the covers off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed, staring down at the floor underneath his bare feet. It was barren save for the moonlight that poured in through the tall window opposite his bed and swirled into a pool of silver against the dark shade of the floor.
He wiggles his toes for a few moments before deciding to stand up, his knees aching underneath the effort and back groaning with the effort of carrying the weight of his spine. With another sigh, Doyoung reached over for his robes discarded over the foot of his bed and slipped them on over his pajamas so he didn’t start shivering against the cold November night air.
Walking over to the window, he peered outside, taking in the sights of Hogwarts when it was drenched in darkness in comparison to its usual light in the daytime. Everything looked and acted the same, no buildings that transformed under the moonlight like werewolves. The shadows were more prominent and the lines of every corner blended into each other though, so Doyoung could hardly make out the details of what was what — if he wasn’t a seventh year he might not have been able to accurately depict each tower that was insight from his spot at the window.
This was another great perk of being a Ravenclaw — the view from the Ravenclaw dormitories was arguably the best in all of Hogwarts. One could see every inch of the school’s campus from the vantage point, and could even see as far as Hogsmeade and the train station. It had always appealed to Doyoung, and he used to spend much longer times just sitting by the window and looking out at the school under him, pinpointing places he had and hadn’t been before, trying to spot people as they moved across the grounds (though they all looked like tiny black ants to him at that height).
He was so distracted in his thoughts he failed to initially notice the Quidditch pitch on the edge of the grounds — a splot of white against the black inkblot of campus. All the lights were on, and even though Doyoung couldn’t see any individual person flying around the pitch, he had a damn good guess at who it was.
As quick as he could, he grabbed his wand and shoes, toeing them on before slipping out of his room and down the stairs of the Ravenclaw dormitory. He didn’t stop in the common room, not even when one of the younger students staying up late studying for their classes called his name in worry. He kept walking, opening the door and rushing down the small bridge to the other twin tower that held the long winding staircase that took him down to the Grand Staircase and then to the Quad, the eagle hanging over the entrance to the dormitory squawking loudly behind him.
The journey through the castle was a blur of pure muscle memory, taking him through the twisting hallways until he found himself outside in the west courtyard with a trail that led straight to the Quidditch Pitch to the north.
The ground was hard beneath his shoes, frost slowly creeping in as temperatures slowly dropped, and freezing the topsoil underneath the surface.
Here, the lights of the pitch were much brighter, Doyoung’s eyes needing a few seconds to adjust to the sudden sharpness spearing his eyes. Still, he trekked on, entering the nearest staircase up to the stands and skipping every two steps to reach the top faster.
With lungs out of breath and calves burning from all the walking, Doyoung emerged from the staircase and into the stands, looking out into the middle of the pitch that was the most brightly lit.
His suspicions were correct, and with a slowly sinking heart, Doyoung watched as Yuta raced from one end of the pitch to another on his broom, presumably testing out another one of his new practice drills to make sure they worked out okay before assigning them to the rest of the team.
Doyoung watched his boyfriend fly for a few more moments before he decided he had seen enough. He drew his wand and cast a small amplifier charm, pressing the tip of the wand to the column of his throat. His voice came out loud and booming, reverberating around the expanse of the pitch.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The sudden noise and interruption startled Yuta, whose broom skirted to a harsh halt, half throwing him off. He was quick to catch himself though, hanging onto the handle of the broom tightly and securely. He whipped his head around and his eyes met Doyoung’s. Doyoung could see the moment the situation processed in Yuta’s mind, realization flashing in his irises and wiping over his face.
“Do you have any idea the time?” Doyoung asked, staring at Yuta floating still in the middle of the pitch, not moving a muscle. He cocked his head to the side, challenging Yuta.
Yuta only hung his head and turned his broom to fly over to where Doyoung was standing. Doyoung quickly took the amplifier charm off his throat and pocketed his wand, watching patiently as Yuta dismounted his broom carefully and faced Doyoung.
“Doyoung, I—”
Doyoung held up a hand, and Yuta immediately fell silent, shame crawling on his skin that tiny spider legs. When Doyoung first noticed the Quidditch pitch lights were on, he was absolutely furious, ready to talk Yuta’s head off about health and taking care of himself, but seeing Yuta now, visibly exhausted but still so full of energy and determination, had all that anger simmering away like a pot losing its boil.
He sighed softly, silently reprimanding himself for being so pliant under Yuta’s will despite his boyfriend having done absolutely nothing. He reached over and wiped some of the hair sticking to Yuta’s sweaty forehead away, patting the crown of his head. “Five more minutes, okay?”
Yuta looked up at him, shock so clear in his eyes, Doyoung only smiled, knowing he couldn’t keep Yuta away from what his boyfriend loved the most, but he could at least be there to watch his condition where he knew Yuta wouldn’t.
When Yuta didn’t move for several seconds, still staring at Doyoung with something akin to awe in his gaze, Doyoung couldn’t help the small chuckle that left his lips. “What are you doing?” He asked, “You only have four minutes and thirty seconds now.”
That seemed to break Yuta out of his stupor, who flashed him a grateful smile before mounting on his broom once more, flying to the center of the pitch in a flash and making the most of his remaining time.
Doyoung sat down where he was, content with watching the pure excitement etched into Yuta’s features as he went over the training drill once more and it came out perfectly, exactly how he had imagined it. Nothing felt better, and Doyoung knew he would give almost anything to see that beautiful face every day of his life.
***
They were sitting under their usual spot — the sycamore tree that clung to the shallow shores of the Great Lake, its branches providing optimal shade against the sun. Of course, that didn’t matter as it was the dead of February, the branches still barren from losing all their leaves in the late fall. The weather had yet to look up, and Doyoung was sporting not one, but two long coats.
“Tell me again why we had to study out here and not in the library, where it’s heated ?” Doyoung asked with a whine, jutting his lower lip out in a pout as he stared at Yuta, who was paying him no mind in favor of reading an excerpt from his History of Magic textbook. Doyoung knew it was only so he could ignore Doyoung’s whining because Yuta absolutely hated History of Magic (and maybe because he loved to make Doyoung pout so he could easily kiss it away, but Doyoung would deny anything related to that claim).
“Because, Dons,” Yuta started, still looking down at the textbook and not at Doyoung, and frankly Doyoung was starting to actually get annoyed. “We need to study for our exam and the library is too crowded.”
Doyoung huffed hotly, the breath turning into a small cloud of fog right before his eyes. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, his own copy of History of Magic forgotten in his lap (he had already reviewed the material last night before they went to bed anyway). “We could have just kicked whatever 1st or 2nd year out of our spot and studied there.”
That elicited a small giggle out of Yuta, and one side of Doyoung’s lips quirked up. He looked down at the textbook in his lap, the tiny lines of words perfect in their ink, no letter or period out of place. He lost himself in the pattern of the paragraphs, lines, and lines of words he had spent hours memorizing and rememorizing and rememorizing.
“Earth to Doyoung.”
Doyoung blinked rapidly, shaking his bangs hanging over his eyes and picking his head up to look at Yuta.
His boyfriend was staring at him with pink-hued fondness dusted onto the apples of his cheeks (that, or he was cold, but Doyoung liked to believe it was the former).
“You were spacing out,” Yuta said simply, as though stating a fact as simple as the sky is blue or lemons are sour.
Doyoung’s own cheeks burned scarlet under his boyfriend’s gaze, suddenly feeling embarrassed at being caught spacing out despite the numerous previous occurrences.
“Oh by the way,” Yuta continued, satisfied with not getting a response out of Doyoung. He turned his torso and reached into his shoulder bag, rummaging through the mess of bent papers and notebooks full of more doodles than actual class notes. After what seemed like an exceptionally long amount of time, he whispered a small, triumphant “aha!” before procuring a quill out of the mess of the bag. “This,” he continued, looking back to Doyoung with a barely concealed grin on his lips, “is for you.”
Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows, taking the quill out of Yuta’s hands with care. “Thank you, Yuu, but I don’t think I need a new set of quills yet?”
Yuta shook his head fervently, waving his hands in front of him. “This is not an ordinary quill sweetheart.” Doyoung’s heart skipped a beat at the petname. “This is a self writing quill.”
Doyoung’s eyebrows raised and he looked at the quill once more, inspecting it for anything that would make it stand out from a regular quill. He couldn’t really feel or see any differences though — it looked like a regular old quill.
“I know how often you stay up late studying, writing and rewriting your notes so you commit them to memory, or just writing out scrolls for your Head Boy duties,” Yuta said. He hooked a finger under Doyoung’s chin and tilted his head back up so their gazes were locked. “But don’t think I didn’t notice your wrist giving you problems from all that writing you’re doing.”
Doyoung’s neck flushed hot with Yuta’s words. He had tried so hard to hide his wrist pain from his boyfriend, not wanting him to worry when he had so many other things on his plate that were far more important than something as small as Doyoung’s wrist giving him trouble from time to time.
“It really is nothing, Yuu,” Doyoung mumbled, finding himself unable to keep Yuta’s gaze even as Yuta’s finger stayed hooked under his chin, the digit warm despite the cold atmosphere around them.
He knew his efforts were futile, Yuta’s eyes hardening. “I understand better than anyone when it comes to this, Dons. I’m the exact same way with Quidditch, so don’t you think you can at least admit that you’re hurting in front of me?”
Doyoung said nothing else, ashamed because Yuta was exactly right and they had been in this same situation before with the roles reversed. He couldn’t practice double standards — he had to listen to his boyfriend as much as he hoped Yuta would listen to him when it came to their health.
“Now,” Yuta said, letting go of Doyoung’s chin to pick up the discarded quill laying on top of the pages of the textbook in Doyoung’s lap. “As I said, this is a self writing quill. All you have to do is say out loud what you want to be written, and this will do the rest for you.”
Warmth pricked at the back of Doyoung’s eyes, and he had to stop himself from going all sappy and letting himself cry over such a small gesture from his boyfriend. “Thank you,” He whispered, a shaky smile on his lips as he tried to convey the extent of his gratitude in his eyes as he and Yuta looked at each other.
Yuta shrugged one shoulder. “It was nothing.” He leaned forward and pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of Doyoung’s mouth, but Doyoung was having none of it. Not with his heart threatening to spill out its contents out of his chest and sing from the top of its lungs about how in love it was with the boy sitting right across from him.
He reached his arms out to grab Yuta’s cheeks, trapping him in so he could tilt his head and plant a proper kiss on Yuta’s lips, their chapped lips meeting awkwardly at first, but once Yuta adapted to Doyoung’s sudden movement, their lips slotted together in a much more satisfying embrace. Doyoung couldn’t stop the soft sigh that left his lips and transformed into the cold mist as Yuta licked at his bottom lip, opening his lips at the seams and slipping his tongue inside with practiced ease. He explored every inch of Doyoung’s mouth, their tongues meeting lazily and lips moving languidly against each other. The cold mist clung to their noses and cheeks, their kisses warming them up from the inside out, a small ember settled deep in their stomachs that grew quickly into a searing fire.
Yuta pushed and pushed, giving Doyoung no room to breathe as he kissed him hard, literally stealing the breath right out of Doyoung’s lungs. The textbook fell out of Doyoung’s laps and was quickly replaced with Yuta, who settled himself comfortably on top of Doyoung, one leg on either side of Doyoung’s thighs.
The pulsing cold of February melted away to unexplainable warmth. Yuta licked into Doyoung’s mouth once more as his hands found themselves on either side of Doyoung’s neck, pressing into the bare skin and leaving Doyoung shivering. He was relentless, kissing Doyoung as though he was a hungry caveman who hadn’t seen proper food in months, devouring him. Doyoung didn’t protest in the slightest, letting himself be kissed and kissing back with as much fervor, pouring all of the love he couldn’t fit into words into his kiss, hoping Yuta could feel at least a fraction of what Doyoung felt.
Yuta pulled back from him, but not before taking his bottom lip between his teeth and tugging at it lightly, eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure to shoot out of Doyoung’s throat. Their chests heaved with the effort to bring new oxygen back into their lungs, and not the same air they just shared for however long it had been — Doyoung wasn’t really paying attention to that. He glanced down to Yuta’s lips, finding them rimmed red and beautifully bruised, and a flower of pride blossomed in his chest at the knowledge that he was the only one who could make Yuta’s lips as pretty as they were in that moment.
“And here we have Hogwart’s two star boys in their natural habitat!”
Both Doyoung and Yuta whipped their heads at the noise, finding Gryffindor Johnny Suh pointing at them with a wide smile on his face as he faced what seemed to be an old school cam recorder in the hands of another Gryffindor, 6th year Jaehyun Jung.
“Johnny what the hell,” Yuta rasped, voice breathless (the knowledge that it was because of their kissing had a bolt of lightning shoot through Doyoung’s heart).
Johnny turned around to face the two of them, his broad smile never leaving his lips. “Jaehyun and I are recording a documentary about the daily life at Hogwarts, and what would Hogwarts be without our star Quidditch captain and the Head Boy himself?”
Doyoung and Yuta stared unamused at the Gryffindor pair, their smiles far too wide to be deemed innocent. Yuta was still perfectly straddled in Doyoung’s lap, and as much as Doyoung knew Yuta didn’t care who knew about their relationship, Doyoung was just a tad bit more reserved with his public affections.
“Johnny,” Doyoung started calmly as his hands subconsciously found rest on the thin of Yuta’s waist over his robes and overcoat. “I’m only going to say this one time, as your Head Boy .”
The punctuated words had the smile slowly sinking off of Johnny’s face.
“Delete that footage you have of us now,” Doyoung continued, eyes sharpening, akin to the cunning snakes on the Slytherin emblem, but with the eloquence of a Ravenclaw eagle. “Or you won’t only be answering to me.”
Johnny’s lips clipped downward immediately, his shoulders dropping as he accepted his fate. Jaehyun wordlessly opened the cam recorder and deleted the little bit of footage the two of them had of Doyoung and Yuta.
“Good man,” Doyoung said, his smile as full of mirth as ever. “Now, I was kind of in the middle of something, so could you kindly leave us be?”
Johnny nodded, turning around like a wounded teddy bear and trekking back up to the castle, Jaehyun just a step behind them.
Once they were out of earshot Doyoung turned his head back towards Yuta, who was already staring at him.
“That was so hot of you,” Yuta breathed hotly.
Doyoung blushed, chuckling in embarrassment at his boyfriend’s words. He was about to say something else when Yuta leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to the tip of his nose, icy against the air.
“Why don’t we go inside now, hmm?” He suggested, smiling down at Doyoung softly.
Doyoung looked up at Yuta, the cold mist creating a makeshift halo around his hair and the sun high in the sky casting a bright light onto him, bathing him in liquid silver.
“Okay,” He responded, voice breathless with the beauty above him. The beauty that was all his .
***
There wasn’t much that stirred the entire student body at Hogwarts all at once. Celebrations were usually more focused, the houses have their own celebrations over whatever good news hits the school at different times.
They were, of course, exceptions to this when something truly splendid happens that demands the attention of every student, from the small measly 1st years to the larger than life 7th years.
It was a morning like any other — late May, where it was just hot enough to be pleasant without the smoldering feeling of UV rays digging into skin and burning them a crisp red. Breakfast in the Great Hall was rowdy, the nice weather lifting the spirits of everybody and they talked animatedly about what they would do that weekend as classes would end early on Friday.
With a great big breeze, the ceiling windows flew open, and in came the post owls, carrying with them parcels and letters for the students below.
Doyoung was sitting at his usual spot at the Slytherin table, Yuta to his left and Ten sitting right across from them. Ten was talking animatedly about something related to his astronomy class, but Doyoung was so tired from a full night of studying that he couldn’t really grasp the words coming out of Ten’s mouth in a rapid shot fire.
The owls swooped overhead, dropping their parcels and letters right in front of the respective recipients before turning and flying back out the windows without another moment’s delay, heading to the Owlery for their morning feed.
Doyoung didn’t think any of them were expecting something in the mail, but to his surprise an apple red envelope floating down into Yuta’s hands, settling neatly into his palms.
They all understood what it was immediately.
“Who could it be from?” Ten asked, leaning over the table to get a good look at the enchanted words covering the outside of the Howler, a spell that cast whatever message hidden inside to play at a very loud volume.
“I don’t know,” Yuta replied, inspecting the Howler closely.
“Well open it quickly before it explodes!” Doyoung rushed, eager to see what kind of message could be awaiting Yuta in the form of a Howler. A rather unconventional method to send a letter, but none of them could care at the moment.
With tentative hands, Yuta broke the seam of the envelope, and it immediately ripped open in a flurry, a small yellow light emitting from the piece of parchment inside as it started voicing its message in a booming voice.
“ NAKAMOTO YUTA. YOU ARE HEREBY INVITED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE PRIVATE TRYOUTS FOR THE MONTROSE MAGPIES QUIDDITCH TEAM THIS SUMMER. MORE DETAILS TO FOLLOW.”
Once the Howler completed delivering its message, it burst into flames in the air, leaving not even a speck of ash in its wake.
The sheer volume of the message left the Great Hall silent, everyone’s heads turned toward the Slytherin table and at Yuta, who was only staring at the spot where the Howler just was in shock.
The words finally registered in Doyoung’s head and his jaw fell slack. “The Montrose Magpies? As in?”
“The most successful league team in history? The team that won the League Cup thirty two times?” Yuta finished his question, voice breathy and tight.
“Oh my god,” Ten uttered. “ Oh my god. ”
All at once, an uproar sounded throughout the entire hall, and every single type of student, whether it was a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor, stood up in their shock and excitement to run over to Yuta.
“Private tryouts?”
“The Montrose Magpies ? Dude they are legendary!”
“How did he even get scouted? That is so cool.”
“As expected of our star player!”
“You think he’ll make it?”
“Of course he will, he’s Nakamoto Yuta!”
The buzz of the crowd grew and grew until Doyoung couldn’t even see over the heads of students swarming to get closer to Yuta and ask him questions or offer their congratulations. Once Yuta broke out of his trance, an unsure but giddy smile overtook his face and he greeted every student that came up to him, nodding his head and accepting any words they would give him or answering their questions with stride.
Doyoung looked on as his boyfriend beamed under the spotlight of the whole school. He always knew Yuta was destined for great things, but this was just a real, physical reminder of just how amazing he was. The crowd was practically breathing down his neck in their effort to get to Yuta, slowly ruining his appetite, but he didn’t care. He really didn’t feel like eating anymore anyways.
Finally, the teachers called for the dispersing of the crowd, and with reluctance, all the students returned to their seats, grumbling and pouting their entire way over.
Doyoung shook his head with a smile. He reached over and gently laced his fingers with Yuta’s, who looked back at him with palpable excitement in his features.
“Congratulations,” He said softly, squeezing their hands lightly. “I’m so proud of you.”
Yuta giggled in his adrenaline rush, shaking his head to ruffle his bangs before leaning forward to kiss the plump of Doyoung’s cheek. “Thank you,” He breathed into Doyoung’s skin.
They didn’t let go of each other’s hands, even as breakfast ended and they started walking to their first class of the day.
“So,” Doyoung started, as they found themselves in an empty corridor of the second floor. “Scotland, huh?”
Yuta hummed, their hands lazily swinging back and forth between their bodies. “Yeah, Scotland.”
Doyoung squeezed their hands together, trying to convey all he could in such a small gesture. “I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth, as unfortunate for me as that is.”
“How romantic, Dons,” Yuta said with a laugh, but his smile was bright and genuine — grateful, for Doyoung’s support, and for his love.
“It’s less romance and more you are kind of stuck with me forever,” Doyoung joked, and Yuta threw his head back with laughter, the sound reverberating against the walls and ceiling of the corridor.
As they walked down the hallway and entered Potions, Doyoung couldn’t help but feel weightless, as though he were on a cloud wading through the late May sky. He was excited, for Yuta and his future — for their future, and all that would no doubt come with it.
Their lives had only just begun, and Doyoung was ready — wherever it would take them, they would do it together.