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“Oh my god, Youngho, are you ok!?”
Youngho wasn’t stupid.
He got good grades, he was practically fluent in two languages and was learning a third, he dressed well, took care of his skin and had a relatively good diet for a university student.
It was just that sometimes, his body and mouth acted before his brain managed to catch up. Which made him kind of stupid. Just a little.
This phenomenon especially kicked in when Youngho was drunk, so he somehow managed to call Taeyong, while crying, and very drunk, and crying harder. He didn’t know why he was crying at that particular point, he just knew his face probably looked a little gross and he wasn’t sure if whatever he licked from his lip was snot or tears. Both things tasted salty anyways (don’t ask him how he knew, he just did).
“Where are you!?”
Youngho whined the address (he thought it was the party address, but it might also be the address to his favorite pizza place) pathetically into the speaker, still not sure why he was a sobbing mess, but he kind of wanted to see Taeyong. The other was always so kind to him, even after he broke the wobbling hula dancer Taeyong had on the dashboard of his car when Youngho borrowed said car. Taeyong said it was okay and he could just get another one off the internet, but Youngho knew it was a precious souvenir from his sister.
He got Taeyong a wobbling Obama when he went to the States to visit his family, as a ‘sorry for breaking your authentic Hawaiian wobbler have this I’m very sorry’ gift. It was still in Taeyong’s car, even though the head was glued on after Yuta popped it off so it sadly didn’t wobble much more.
Maybe that’s why Youngho was crying.
It didn’t matter anyways, because soon someone who looked like Taeyong was in his blurred line of sight. It couldn’t be Taeyong, because Taeyong would never go out in public in just a towel. Yoonoh would though, so maybe it was Yoonoh. But it sounded like Taeyong.
“…Youngho are you listening to me!?” Okay, it was definitely Taeyong, he was using that I’m-your-mother-but-I’m-not-actually-your-mother voice that only Taeyong could do. “Why are you crying?”
And oh, oh, Youngho suddenly recalled why he was in tears- was Taeyong wearing crocs!? Disastrous.
“You’re wearing crocs.” Youngho slurred with a half sob, half hiccup. He lifted his bare foot up in the air. “Someone stole my socks.”
Youngho didn’t recall much after that, except falling into a giggling fit because he was just that good at rhyming. He just remember his nose being buried in the scent of fresh laundry, which triggered him to throw up on the sidewalk on the way home.
He woke up with tiny men doing construction work inside his head, but on his desk was a bottle of water, a red bull can and some aspirin with a little note.
Sleep in, I’ll bring you your notes after classes (* ﾟ▽ﾟ ) ﾉ
Taeyong really was too kind for him, he couldn’t ask for a better friend.
-
*Chewbacca’s nickname is set as Darth Vader*
Darth Vader: hansol
Darth Vader: I’m renouncing or bestfriendship
Hansolo: ok
Hansolo: wait
Hansolo: y?
Darth Vader: ur blonde hair aint doing it for me
Darth Vader: im going to the dark side
Darth Vader: cause my new bf taeyong’s hair is dark
Hansolo: dude my hair has been dark for a y e a r
Hansolo: also by bf
Hansolo: do u mean bestfriend
Hansolo: or boyfriend
Darth Vader: BESTFRIEDN DUHH
Darth Vader: friend*
Darth Vader: he was there for me when no one else was
Darth Vader: saving me from my demise
Hansolo: uhm
Hansolo: ok whatever imma go back to crushing yoonoh in mario kart smell ya later
Darth Vader: NO COME BACK UR MY BESTFRIEND
Hansolo: i thought u had a new bf
*Hansolo’s nickname is set as Obi-Wan Kenobi*
Darth Vader: don’t u fuckin do it
Obi-Wan Kenobi: YOU WERE MY BROTHER YOUNGHO
Obi-Wan Kenobi: I LOVED YOU
Darth Vader: SHUT UP THATS MY LINE AFTER U DIDN’T SAVE MY DRUNK ASS LAST NIGHT
Obi-Wan Kenobi: u don’t have an ass theres nothing to save
Obi-Wan Kenobi: also rip taeyong
Darth Vader: fuck you
Darth Vader: but why rip taeyong
Obi-Wan Kenobi: …
Obi-Wan Kenobi: *disappears like dust bc force magic*
Darth Vader: Hansol
Obi-Wan Kenobi: if u ever find out im still ur bestfriend my force ghost will appear
Darth Vader: im gonna force choke u when my head stops pounding
-
(Youngho didn’t find the sock he lost, but Taeyong got him a new pair which he gave Youngho along with his notes. He really needed to make Taeyong his best friend ASAP. That kind hearted soul.)
-
Hans old: rest in piece
Tae young: peace*
Tae young: why?
Hans old: u just got friendzoned
Tae young: ??????
-
Finals were a fucking drag, and from Monday at 4.30 pm on the dot, Youngho’s five finals were set on each their respective weekday. All of his friends had theirs spread out over the span of two weeks, not one.
Pro: earlier break
Con: earlier death as the stress decreased Youngho’s lifespan by at least fifty years
“I’m not going to do it, Youngho.”
“Please! I beg you!”
“No.”
Taeyong wouldn’t drop a book on Youngho’s head, which was not best friend behavior. Hansol got his spot back; he had to tell the other later. He tried using his famous puppy pout, which looked more like someone just gave him a soggy fry rather than a cute puppy asking for something, but Taeyong wouldn’t budge. That is, until Doyoung arrived.
“So, I just stand here?” The younger male asked from the top of the chair, seeming a little uncomfortable since he could fall down at any moment and preferably squish Youngho maybe that’s better than the book-
“Here, take this.” Youngho handed him the heaviest encyclopedia he could find while scavenging the library with Taeyong, who thought the book would be put to safer and better use; like a pillow. Youngho laid his head on the desk, closing his eyes. “Drop it on my head, please.”
“Uhm.” Doyoung looked puzzled for a moment, just staring down at the willing sacrifice, probably wondering if it still counted as murder if the victim was consenting. “Okay.”
That had Taeyong reeling, and the male jumped onto the table, which shook it intensely. Doyoung almost dropped the book, but it was quickly removed from his grip. Youngho, who had his eyes closed, thought the commotion was just Doyoung missing his target and looked up. He was met with a hand tangling into his hair comfortingly, and a concerned gaze from Taeyong, who was lying on the table on top of the book. He really was living up to that ‘straight out of a high fashion magazine’ look everyone told him he had.
“There are better ways to get through finals week, Youngho.” He scolded softly, like he was mad but talking to a child who didn’t know better. To be honest, Youngho kind of was a child who didn’t know better. “Let’s head back to the dorms, I’ll make you some mac and cheese, yeah?”
Youngho sniffed.
“Yeah.”
He couldn’t comprehend sometimes how seemingly deep Taeyong cared for him, like it ran deeper than the Mariana Trench. That might be a stretch, but it honestly felt like it.
It made him feel loved.
(Youngho claimed he wasn’t a stupid man, but everyone could agree on the fact that he was dense as hell.)
-
“I’m one hundred percent sure fries are better dipped in chocolate milkshake.” Yoonoh was scowling, although rather cutely, arms crossed over his chest while he chewed on gum that definitely wasn’t sugar free. Youngho noticed the hubba bubba wrapper on the table, which proved he was indeed right.
“Have you even tried caramel?” Taeyong was also scowling, if possible; he looked even more adorable than Yoonoh.
“And cheat on chocolate? I could never!”
It was the first week after break, and Youngho had just finished a class he was supposed to have with Doyoung, but the other didn’t even show up. Yuta was sleeping with his hair dangerously close to his lunch, while Yoonoh and Taeyong was discussing milkshakes rather loudly. Yuta could possibly sleep through the apocalypse, and wouldn’t even move from his position.
“You’re just so childish sometimes, gosh.” Taeyong had obviously given up, and Yoonoh popped a bubble and dabbed in victory.
“Honestly Yoonoh, you shouldn’t shoot it down before you’ve tried it.” Youngho offered up, because seeing Taeyong upset for losing a lame argument wasn’t on the top of his list today.
Seeing Taeyong upset was never on the top of his list.
“Not you, too.” The youngest whined, pulling up his phone to most likely play My Horse Prince or something. Yoonoh’s mood didn’t matter to Youngho anyways, and Hansol had texted that he was on his way so his hissy fit would be short-lived.
What mattered, was the way Taeyong’s face lit up into a full-fledged solar beam when Youngho sat down. A thought hit him, then; whoever Taeyong ended up with would be one lucky person. Taeyong was warming yourself up in front of a fireplace with a cup of cocoa during a cold winter day, and the cooling of the air conditioner on a hot and humid summer night. For some reason, the thought of Taeyong being that for someone else exclusively made Youngho feel blue.
Why would it make him mellow of all things, when Taeyong deserved the entire world and Youngho was the number one hype man for that concept?
“Thanks, Youngho.” Taeyong whispered with a smile, patting Youngho’s thigh in gratitude.
“Anytime, my dude.” Youngho grinned back, holding up his hand for a bro-fist. “Bros gotta stick up for each other, am I right?”
“Yeah…” Taeyong stuttered (weakly) and bumped the other’s knuckles with his own (weakly), going back to eating his lunch (with a sigh).
“Oh boy.” Hansol announced his arrival with two words, eyes unamused while he sipped on his banana milk. Youngho didn’t get the pointed stare his best friend was giving him, and didn’t get why Yoonoh was giving it to him as well. He also didn’t get how Yuta magically woke up to mirror the look the others were giving him.
-
“So, you like Fifth Harmony…” Youngho mused while he stared at the ceiling, which had a printed A4 picture of the night sky, from a non-color printer. Yoonoh had made fun of him for a week straight for it, because Yoonoh had bought various sizes of glow-in-the-dark stars to make the night sky in his own room, and told Youngho his paper was a cheap copy of his amazing idea.
“Shut up.” Taeyong glared from his bed, MacBook placed in his lap while he worked on a script for his creative writing class. Taeyong and Youngho were lucky enough to end up together when the new dorms were distributed (because Taeyong was the only one sober when they filled out the forms five minutes before deadline and might have filled out Youngho’s too), while the others had been placed at random. It had its perks; Taeyong was a cleaning lady in his past life, and Youngho was a hobby janitor, so the dorm remained clean (except for empty packs of snacks under Youngho’s bed which also worked as his makeshift closet) and if anything broke, Youngho would ask ‘what would McGyver do?’ and pull out duct tape.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, man.” Youngho had walked in on Taeyong screaming along to the lyrics of Sledgehammer, rather off-key, but very passionately. Taeyong had continued screaming, although not the lyrics, and thrown a USB at Youngho’s face. “I mean, you like tits and ass.”
“I don’t like tits and ass.” Taeyong sputtered, leaning down so all of his face was covered by the laptop screen. That probably wasn’t healthy for his eyes, nor his posture. “I just- ugh.”
“Oh.” A lame reply, Youngho knew, but it was all he could muster due to a bug swarm invading his chest and making his heart jitter around. Hansol did say Youngho had no ass, no matter how many squats he’d take at the gym, so Youngho had a chance-
-to be the ultimate bro for Taeyong, physically and mentally. That’s it. That’s the feeling he has, just straight up romance- BROMANCE. Bromance. Nothing else, nope.
Youngho peeked at Taeyong, who had reappeared from hiding behind his screen, eyebrows furrowed and specs perching on his adorable- ADMIREABLE nose. He hurriedly reached for his phone so he didn’t have to look at the other’s god like- GOD DAMNED face, texting Hansol.
Chewbacca: hansol
Chewbacca: i dont have any ass right
Hansolo: no didn’t i already tell u
Hansolo: its all flat
Hansolo: desolate
Hansolo: some apocalyptic wars has unfolded on those two globes
Chewbacca: wow thanks u really love me huh </3
Hansolo: <3
Chewbacca: at least taeyong will love me now, more than u ever have…
Chewbacca: the realest bro out there
Hansolo: omg he told u he likes flat asses??!?
Hansolo: u know what i give up on u ur a lost case
Youngho’s thumb hovered over the block button, because what was even Hansol on about? He wasn’t even lost, why would he be a lost case?
He decided not to block Hansol just yet, he was probably just jealous of Youngho and Taeyong’s brolationship.
-
When Taeyong entered their room, Youngho could feel the stress oozing off him. He slung his bag next to his desk before he started tidying the already neat area, but Youngho knew it was Taeyong’s way of coping when he was in certain moods. He also knew some of his laundry was peeking out from under his bed, which meant there would be yelling in about three, two, one-
“Jesus Christ, can’t you fucking just throw your shit in either the closet or the hamper!?” The younger flailed, glaring at Youngho with literal flames protruding from his eyes. “I got the hamper for a reason, and yet you have the decency to not use it and then you complain about not having any clean clothes!”
“It’s just a shirt-“ Youngho shouldn’t have countered with that, because soon Taeyong was on his knees, dragging out all the things that had been left there (to rot). “Or multiple shirts.”
“And all your underwear?” Taeyong was fuming, and Youngho really wanted him to just sit down and relax. He tried to coax him, but to no avail. “And this is mine, what the hell!”
“Well if it’s yours I didn’t put it there, you know I don’t touch your clothes!” Youngho’s voice raised a few levels in volume, because like Taeyong, he was also stubborn. “Since you know, ‘you’re so full of germs and who knows what’, remember?”
Taeyong flinched back, and Youngho knew it was a low blow. It was from the time they were getting to know each other, and Taeyong still struggled with his OCD, just like back then. Youngho regretted using it against Taeyong the second he did, but he didn’t have much time to feel guilty.
“I do remember, and it’s still true!” The other flared, but Youngho’s shoulder sunk at the sign of tears forming in his eyes. Taeyong started throwing the various items he had retrieved at their rightful owner, yelling to cover up his hurt. “I can’t believe I’m still living in this shitty dump with you, you’re so disgusting and a fucking asshole, too!”
“My side of this shitty dump doesn’t affect your sterile ‘safe space’, so stop being such a pissbaby.” That was even lower, and Youngho wanted to smack himself in the face with preferably a brick. A tear escaped down Taeyong’s cheek, and that had never happened before; Youngho had majorly screwed up this time. Why didn’t Doyoung drop that book on his head?” “Why do you even fucking care about me and what I do with my shit? It’s my fucking shit!”
Regret, regret, regret, and more regret.
Taeyong was staring at him, deflated, as if all the anger he held hadn’t even been there. More tears fell from Taeyong’s eyes, and a silence settled over them. Youngho’s breathing evened out; the stupid, unnecessary rage left him with each exhale, and the guilt found its way into his chest.
“I care because I love you.” It was a whisper, but it was as if Taeyong was holding a megaphone up against Youngho’s ear and screamed at the top of his lungs.
He really was stupid, and dense, and more stupid on top of that. Like a sandwich: two stupid breads with some dense spread between them.
Youngho knew by the way Taeyong said it, that it was beyond a platonic confession. It wasn’t those motherly feelings the other had for all his friends, it wasn’t bromance.
Taeyong was in love with Youngho.
“C’mere.” Youngho rasped out and took a step so he could bring Taeyong into his embrace, doing the small tricks he knew would comfort the other. He used one of his hands to rub the younger’s back, while the other hand threaded through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly. He felt Taeyong relax into his hold, small sobs fading into audible breaths as he clung onto Youngho’s shirt. “I’m sorry, Taeyong.”
And maybe it was bad timing to say sorry, because Taeyong might have read it wrong since he pulled away from Youngho rather quickly. Youngho didn’t let him escape, making them face each other even though Taeyong looked anywhere else but him.
Youngho knew he wasn’t in love with Taeyong the way Taeyong was in love with him, he was aware, but he also knew that it felt right to lean down and kiss away the dried tears on Taeyong’s flushed cheeks. It felt right to let his hand move from Taeyong’s back to cup his face, close his eyes and kiss away the quiver from Taeyong’s lips.
The contact was short, but it relayed the meaning behind the apology. The sorry for hurting him, sorry for yelling, sorry for not loving him the same way, but there was also a ‘for you, I’ll try’.
“Please don’t say ‘no homo’.” Taeyong begged, eyes still closed while Youngho took the time to admire his features.
“Bro.” Youngho chuckled heartily, and Taeyong let one of his eyes peek open. “Yes homo.”
There it was again, that oh so wonderful solar glare that only Taeyong’s smile could produce. The thought that it was aimed at Youngho, and the thought that Taeyong would exclusively be Youngho’s fireplace during winter and air-conditioner during summer, made him incredibly giddy. He just wanted to wrap him up in blankets and watch Disney movies.
“Hold on.” Youngho rummaged around and found a sock (the one Taeyong had gotten him), and went to hang it on the door handle outside.
“Uhm.” Taeyong eyed him nervously when he returned, knowing exactly what a sock on the door meant in the university world. He was blushing furiously, and Youngho just wanted to eat him up right there, but it wasn’t what he had in mind.
“For privacy, for all we know our friends can pick locks.” Youngho joked, making Taeyong grin again, although he still fidgeted slightly.
Youngho lead them over to his bed, and they tried to fit both of them into it to the best of their abilities, but Youngho’s legs went on for miles and Taeyong’s butt was hanging over the edge. After some shuffling around and throwing away some stuff (“Oh my god, that cookie is moldy, Youngho!”), they managed, legs tangled and arms holding onto the other for dear life. It wasn’t too comfortable, but lazy make-out sessions definitely were.
Lazy make-out sessions actually became their favorite thing in the span of two hours. They had put on 'The Lion King', and Taeyong was going to cry like he always did during it, so Youngho distracted him by coaxing his mouth open with his tongue. Taeyong didn't complain, and was actively returning the ministrations, and making out during the scene where Mufasa died was something Youngho never thought would be on his bucket list (which he just made, called 'things I want to do with Taeyong'),
Bromance is dead.
-
Hansolo: It’s been 6 hrs since you sent me those disgusting emojis
Hansolo: where the fuck are you
Hansolo: whY IS THERE A SOCK ON UR DOOR
Hansolo: SEO YOUNGHO WHERE IS TAEYONG
Hansolo: oh m y god
Hansolo: o h hh hmy goD
Hansolo: DON’T TELL ME U FUCKING
Hansolo: FUCKED
Hansolo: FUCK
Hansolo: shit now I owe yuta $$$$ fuck you