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Korn always knew getting involved with architecture was a bad idea.
“This is bullying,” he complains as another lucky star’s flicked at his head.
See, apparently, Korn’s extremely comfy. He knows this now because Safe’s decided he’s his favorite pillow, and it’s no longer uncommon for the guy to just come up to wherever Korn’s busy existing and drape himself across him for a nap. Which brings him here: Safe ‘snoozing’ in Korn’s arms and Mo draped across Safe for his own nap ‘to join the dog pile fun’. Chang, the asshole, just laughs and abandons him to his fate, and drags Toto into making lucky stars to flick at Korn as well.
Chang flicks another lucky star at him, managing to hit Korn’s eyebrow. “Don’t worry babe, I’d never abandon my favorite victim to the wolves.”
Safe pretends to snuggle deeper in his sleep, further pinning Korn to his seat. Korn swears under his breath and Safe doesn’t even bother to hide his snickers. Toto’s lucky star goes wildly off course and hits Safe’s mouth though, so at least the forces of karma are still in order.
“I hate all of you,” Korn declares, not for the first time.
“I can’t imagine why. I, for one, have never done anything wrong in my life, ever,” Toto says as he flicks another lucky star at them. It bounces off Korn’s cheek, then Safe’s head, and lands on Mo’s nose. Chang holds up his hand for a high-five with a loud Ayyyy!
“I’m ditching all of you to become friends with the arts faculty.”
Chang pouts at him. “That’s just hurtful. If you keep saying that, I might actually start to believe you.”
Mo snorts, eyes still closed as he feigns sleep. “Seriously? I stopped listening to his threats by the end of our third week freshman year.”
“Oh hey, so did we,” Safe says cheerfully. Korn scoffs and tries to leave, but Safe pulls him back down and squirms further into his lap, tucking his head under Korn’s chin with the protest, “Noooo, I’m sleeping.”
Korn lets out a small oof as Safe turns into deadweight against him. “I’d like my reputation as an aloof asshole back now,” he complains.
“Eh? Since when did you have that rep?” comes a voice from behind him.
Korn twists around to greet Pat with an aggrieved pout. “You’re supposed to have my back here.”
Pat shuffles the boxes of fried chicken he's carrying so he can pat his back once in solidarity. Korn glares at him. “You're such a dad.”
“I thought I was baseball mom?”
Pran, approaching behind Pat, chokes and nearly drops the tray of drinks he’s carrying. Korn raises his eyebrows as Pat’s grin turns smug, but then Wai and Louis bring up the rear carrying their own armfuls of food and everyone shuffles to make room. Absolutely no one helps free Korn from the bottom of the dog pile, because all of them are terrible.
Korn wiggles pointedly. “I’m going to be a horrible pillow after I starve to death.”
Safe just snores.
“Asshole,” Korn mutters with a loud tch.
“Not to victim blame, but that’s entirely your own fault,” Louis says wisely as Wai nods sagely next to him.
“You should’ve shoved him off the first time he tried,” Wai informs him. “Put it to a stop right away. Now it’s too late.”
Korn scowls at them. “We should’ve just kidnapped Pran and run. Who even needs you assholes?”
Safe snuggles deeper in protest, digging his skull into the soft curve of Korn’s neck, as Wai and Louis gasp tragically and clutch their chests.
“Oi.” Pat throws a small piece of chicken at Korn, but Korn catches it with his mouth like a champ. Pat sticks his tongue out at him and says, “I’m the only one running off with Pran.”
Pran hums contemplatively and Pat’s pout turns on him. “Sorry babe, Korn is very pretty.”
“Thank you, Pran,” Korn preens over Pat’s whining.
“Trying to make me jealous is. Not. Cute,” Pat says as he pokes Pran’s dimples with glee. Pran pouts mockingly and smacks Pat’s forehead with his spoon, making Pat laugh and duck in to press a flurry of kisses to Pran’s cheek.
“All this sugar is ruining my nap,” Safe complains.
“So you’ll get off me?”
Safe shuts up and goes back to snoring.
“Ugh.”
Wai shakes his head with a laugh. “You can be an asshole to me whenever, what’s stopping you now?” Wai leans around Korn and kicks Safe’s thigh. “Oi, I’m eating your lunch.”
“Hey!”
Safe flies off of him, upsetting Mo from his rest spot on the bench as he goes. Wai snickers mercilessly and passes Korn his tea with a wink. Korn takes it with a roll of his eyes and turns back to see Pat and Pran making dumb faces at each other, still off in their own little world.
Korn bumps his shoulder against Wai’s. “Would they notice if we stole their food?”
Apparently the answer to that is a resounding yes, because Pat’s hands whip out and his and Pran’s lunches disappear from the pile between one blink and the next. Pat presents both to Pran proudly, like a dog.
“Woof,” Wai murmurs under his breath, making Korn choke on his chicken as he tries not to laugh.
“Boyfriend, here’s your food.”
“Boyfriend,” Pran whines back with a scrunched up kissy-face. “Are you expecting a reward?” he demands with a light smack against Pat’s cheek.
Pat tilts his head and pouts beseechingly. That’s when Korn notices it, and his loud whistle draws everyone’s attention.
“Am I blind or do I see a very large bug bite there?” he asks with wiggling eyebrows and the jerk of his chin towards Pat’s neck.
Pat blinks, momentarily confused, before he lights up and preens. In doing so, a small pink hickey just barely tucked away behind his collar reveals itself, much to Pran’s mortification.
Several of them whistle, Korn and Louis the loudest. Pat stretches his neck, showing off the little mark as casually as one can when they’re radiating smugness. Pran hides his face behind his hand and refuses to emerge, even when Pat hugs him close and nuzzles his cheek, hickey bare to the world.
Safe tsks. “Ah ah, guys, it’s so small and faint though.” Pran lets out a muffled groan. Safe’s shit-stirring smile widens. “It probably is just a bug bite.”
“No, not a big bite, those are more round,” Wai disagrees, tapping his lip thoughtfully, “But hasn’t Pat always had a birthmark there?”
Korn shakes his head gravely. “Pat doesn’t have birthmarks.”
“Could it be a mouth-shaped sunburn?” Mo suggests.
“Ooh yep.”
“That’s it.”
“Definitely.”
Pran has his head in both hands now, refusing to acknowledge any of them. Pat just pouts grumpily at the chorus of agreements.
“It’s—“ Pran whips around to glare at Pat, who straightens and obediently says, “—not a hickey. Totally not. Because that would be gross and unprofessional and not something I’d show off at all.”
Korn snorts into his drink, and he’s not the only one. Pran’s nostrils flare and Pat straightens like he’s just been issued a challenge.
“It’s not a hickey,” Pran says firmly over the sounds of their snickers. And Korn has to give props to the guy, he actually sounds believable when he says that.
“It’s half a hickey,” Pran snaps with great irritation, “because we keep getting interrupted by you idiots any time I try to give him a full one.”
Korn chokes on his tea. Toto just straight up spits his out all over Mo and Safe with all the drama a theatre nerd requires. Korn watches from outer space as Louis collapses off the bench, dragging Wai and Chang down with him. And suddenly Korn’s the last man half standing, still wheezing as he tries to catch his breath.
Pran surveys the carnage with great satisfaction before turning to Pat. He grabs his chin and pulls him close, and Korn wonders distantly if he’s about to be subjected to things not meant for innocent eyes.
“Behave,” Pran says millimeters from Pat’s lips before releasing him with a flick under his chin. Pat’s head wobbles like a bobble head in his eagerness to agree. Korn can’t even blame the guy.
“Definitely ditching you all to become friends with the arts faculty,” Korn mutters under his breath before he puts his head in his hand and breaks down laughing.