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dojunie · 4 months

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MISDIAL; LJN [CH4] PICK UP THE PHONE!

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

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lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; none

chapter wc: 9.5k / comment on this post for taglist!

taglist: @hibernatinghamster @jenoxygen @eaglesnotravens @donutswithjaminthemiddle @jvjsssnaa @huangrenhyucks @luvenshiti @shiningdery @jaeminsbebu @aliceinwhateverland @bebsky@gem-gem @jkjkseo @jenosbliss @pewpewpwe00 @ti--red @philanarose @softbbyg0rl @aaasteroidsky @carelessshootanonymous @en-boyz @jlsavyy @roseymerrie @bangchanisemo @skuezk @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples @ourbeautifulaffair@jeonnyread @jvjsssnaa @episkeyjeno @bockhyun @jenojammin @zarastrawberry @peachie-bear @itadaramaterasu @alymii @cuteejeno @episkeyjeno @nohunlee @ooojisoo @luv4jeno @not-clemb @jydivrs @maeyoung @axmdocs @nctzennikki09 @pinkysinnerbaby

unable to tag: @jenojenoyes

[a/n]: merry early christy mass

“SO. ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT?”

It’s 7:38AM, and Jeno has finally driven for long enough that the Palisades building is no longer looming in his rearview mirror. In a perfect world he’d be heading back to his apartment right now to sleep away the next twelve hours of his life— but Jeno’s life has not been perfect since you moved back to Seoul, and he knows even before Donghyuck finishes speaking that the following conversation is going to be unbearable.

The man in the backseat slurps obnoxiously from the thermos he’s got at his lips. “Frankly, I’m a little suspicious that we’re not already talking about it. Because there is like… no chance neither of you have anything to say about all of that.”

“All of what,” Jaemin asks, nonplussed. “Your sudden closeness with little Jeon?”

Donghyuck scoffs, taking another loud sip from the borrowed bedazzled cup. The contents held within is fresh brewed coffee courtesy of the small Starbucks Jeon Somi’s has on her kitchen counter, and he’s practically perched on top of the center console because he’s leaning so far forward. “No, prick. Don’t even start. All of that being last fucking night. You know,” he prods very pointedly, “At Wooyoung’s?”

For a split second, Jeno’s mind goes completely elsewhere. Wooyoung’s. The guy was more Jaemin’s friend than his but he’d been invited to the party anyway, initially with a polite promise to swing by for an hour or two before clearing out to avoid the storm rolling in. Then, a few hours later at Mark’s place, you. Wandering into the apartment none the wiser to his presence, squinting into the depths of your phone; and the only thing Jeno can remember from the seconds before you looked up and shut him out again was wondering how the hell he didn’t notice how much you’d changed.

If he was being honest, it's something that's been bothering him since that night at Nabi Bar. Because you’d always been cute. Ask anybody with eyes. In highschool you were cute enough that sometimes Jeno didn’t quite understand why no one else seemed to be thinking about it as much as he was. Everything you did made him want to pick you up and shake you like a dog with a new toy. But somewhere along the lines, this…shifted.

“What about Wooyoung’s?” Jaemin sighs. “We were there for like, four hours. You’re going to have to be more—”

“You and Y/N,” Donghyuck says unrepentantly, striking right to the heart of his curiosity. “Mark’s birthday up in the woods, the lake house, whatever the fuck happened there. Her truth or drink question. To be specific.”

Jeno isn’t the best at understanding his own feelings, and he’ll admit that easily. So if he’s being serious about when he first realized something had shifted, when he noticed that something was undeniably different about you— he’d, coincidentally, also have to point a finger towards the weekend they all spent at the lake house. It was the first time he’d properly seen you in nearly a year. He’d shown up at Mark’s parents house with the van full of guys and hung out downstairs in the same living room he used to spend every afternoon in before college came and whisked them all away, and waited for you and your brother to come down.

And he’s not proud of this, but. Well.

Well, when you did eventually reveal yourself, finding his eyes amongst the crowd of his friends perking up at your arrival… he’d been expecting a bigger reaction.

He’d been working out more, is all. And he’d grown his hair out for the first time since he was a little kid, and had finally grown accustomed to the pokey, itchy world of contacts. He looked different. He felt different. He’d just finished his first year of college and was definitely feeling a little too cool about it. And in high school you used to look at him like he had done something great for just simply existing— so he’d been ready for you to all but drop when you saw him now— but you’d run your gaze over Jeno for what felt like half a second before turning to Renjun, smiling widely at this new guy like you’d been waiting to meet him and only him.

And he remembers being… confused.

That had been the first clue that something about you (or, maybe, something about him) had changed.

“Na Jaemin. You are absolutely not going to sit here and not explain what the hell she was talking about.”

“It was over a year ago,” Jaemin says. The uneasy beat that followed Donghyuck’s question was nothing to be envied, but Jeno wholeheartedly preferred the silence over actually listening to this conversation. “And you heard her. There’s nothing to explain. She was getting over someone, I was getting over someone, and like most stupid teenagers do, we did the only thing that came to mind—”

“Okay but you understand that she’s not like most stupid teenagers, right? You hooked up with Mark’s little sister. On his birthday. At his birthday party. Did you have a death wish? Why are you both acting like this isn’t breaking goddamn news?”

“Because it isn’t news,” Jaemin replies sharply. “For a myriad of reasons. Can you not phrase it like I was trying to seduce the Virgin Mary?”

“I’m not phrasing it like anything! I just… I mean, you’re not seriously going to pretend like this isn’t absolutely insane, right? It’s hard to imagine—”

“What about two people hooking up is so insane to you?”

Donghyuck seems flabbergasted by this. “Jaemin. Everything. Everything about it is insane. Because it’s not just two people ‘hooking up’. Of all the people on earth you could have— and trust me, the number of options you have is high, I’ve heard some of the shit the girls on campus say about you— you chose her? The single person on this earth that Mark would flay you alive for even—”

Jaemin snaps his eyes to the rearview mirror, and Donghyuck’s words cut short. “Is Y/N a human being to you?”

A stunned second passes.

“Or is she just some attachment to Mark, some little doll with no will of her own? You realize that this is why she hates being around us so much, right? Why she’s never around in her own fucking apartment? Did you even notice that you’ve only ever said her name once in this whole conversation? Do you know what you’ve been calling her?”

Jaemin’s question hangs in the air like a physical weight. Mark’s little sister. It hits Jeno like a punch; his hand tightens around the steering wheel with immediate guilt. Guilt for not even noticing how interchangeably they’d all been using the words in the first place and, much deeper down, knowing that even if Jaemin wasn’t talking to him, Jeno was definitely the worst culprit in the vein of only seeing you as an extension of your brother.

That’s basically what you’d told him on the balcony before you left and took half of his spirit with you.

“That’s not what I meant,” Donghyuck says, sufficiently chided. All the gossip-seeking enthusiasm has drained from his voice. Now he just sounds sorry. “You know that’s not what I meant. That’s not how any of us see her.”

“I know that,” Jaemin says quietly, returning his gaze to the window. “She doesn’t.”

They ride in silence for almost a whole block before Jaemin sighs.

“She found me after I got off the phone with Jurin for the last time,” he supplies, unable to ignore Donghyuck’s scolded pouting. “Sometime while you guys were off getting wood for the campfire.”

Perking up a little in the backseat, Donghyuck tentatively asks, “At… At the lake house?”

And, having foolishly assumed the reprimand would've ended this conversation, Jeno almost wants to slam his head against the headrest when Jaemin nods and he realizes they're not done talking about you. He feels raw; sensitive and uncomfortable and combative. It's residual from what just happened with you, he knows that, and he also knows saying something will probably just draw attention he does not want, but he still can't help but blurt; “Do you really need to hear the details, man?”

He’s not sure who he surprises more by the edge in his voice: himself or the other two. Both turn to look at Jeno like he’s just magically appeared in the vehicle.

Donghyuck is so caught off guard by the distaste that he actually rocks back a little bit in his seat.

“I’m not asking for those kinds of details!” he exclaims, scandalized. “I just want to know how it went down beforehand, because as far as I remember, they were the perfect picture of normalcy on that trip! Jaemin was a little sulkier than normal because of the whole girlfriend-breaking-up-with-him thing, but he perked up after, like…”

Donghyuck trails off. Then after a very long second he gasps, sounding almost appalled, forgetting Jeno again immediately.

“When we came back from camping because it started raining, you were like a totally different person. It was then, wasn’t it? You and her stayed back. I remember being worried that you were going to bore her to death if she ever came out of her room. Holy shit, dude, don’t tell me you guys planned—”

Jaemin whirls around. “Do you think I’m completely crazy?”

“Well how am I supposed to know, when you won’t tell us anything?!”

“You really want to know so badly?” Jaemin says, fed up. No, Jeno thinks uselessly.

“Earlier in the afternoon Y/N heard me on the phone with Jurin and figured something was wrong. She came over to talk to me about it and I found out that she was having guy problems of her own, so we tried to make each other feel better— Verbally," Jaemin tells, pointedly adding the last word when Donghyuck's eyebrows jump in scandal. "The next time I saw her was when you guys left to go camping and we stayed back. I was watching a movie in the living room and she asked if she could join me because she couldn’t sleep, and— And after that you can put two and two together. That’s it.”

“Prude,” Donghyuck mutters. When Jaemin shoots him another look in the mirror though, he’s the perfect picture of innocence. “—Is what I would have said, if you were talking about any other girl, ha ha. Anyway! Did you guys kiss?”

Jeno's arms tense up so quickly that he almost swerves into oncoming traffic. Hyuck nearly topples out of his seat.

“Fucking hell—! Hey! You’ve got precious cargo back here, jackass!”

“Pothole,” Jeno bites.

He’s lying through his teeth. But it’s the only thing he could think of. There’s no such thing as a pothole out here— they’re in Gangnam, on a main goddamn road, but he can almost feel Jaemin’s eyes on the side of his face, so keeps his eyes sharply forward despite the fact that his ears are no doubt already starting to flush pink from discomfort.

“I’m not telling you that,” Jaemin replies after a second. “Voyeur.”

“What? What type of sense does that make? You two literally fucked on our communal couch, but asking about a kiss is too—”

Even if it feels like every nerve instantly lights ablaze under his skin from this comment, Jeno is much better about controlling his expression this time around. It probably wouldn’t have mattered because in the moment after the words left Donghyuck’s mouth Jaemin whirled around in his seat to pinch him, a sharp grab at his thigh that had the boy yowling in surprise— and then immediately thereafter, agony, because Jaemin’s strength is nothing to sneeze at.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Jaemin hisses. “Not a word of this is leaving this car. Do you understand me, Lee Donghyuck? If you tell anybody—”

“Okay, okay!” Donghyuck cries out. “Fuck, do you have razors under your nails?! I think I’m bleeding!”

“I’m serious,” Jaemin continues darkly. “You can laugh about it all you want, but we all know exactly how Mark is going to react if he finds out and I am not interested in playing the odds on whether he ends my life via strangulation or vicious beating. Keep your mouth shut.”

Donghyuck is still muttering to himself, rubbing bitterly at the spot where Jaemin sniped him.

He’s thinking of ways to reassure Jaemin, probably. Or maybe that’s just what Jeno hopes he’s doing, because a younger him could have used some reassurance that Mark possibly wouldn’t have tried to kill him where he stood if, back in highschool, he’d ignored your brother's wishes entirely and actually told you how he felt.

But Donghyuck simply says, “Remember when we all watched him punch that watermelon in half during spirit week? Back in our senior year, when they were still finding chunks of it a week later in, like, the ceiling rafters and shit? I think my money is on him beating you to death if he finds out you slept with his sister.”

And on that very positive note, Jeno flicks his turn signal on and coasts into the lane that’ll take him right back to SNU.

It’s four days later, Jeno hasn’t seen you once in that span of time, and he’s beginning to think it’s driving him a little insane, because he’s been staring pathetically at a photo of you on Mark’s fridge for the last five minutes. You’re mid-laugh and you’ve got one arm tight around Mark’s neck— you’re both on the beach, jeans rolled up to your knees, and your hair is a startling, bright red.

Back in highschool, when you were a junior and he was a senior, you’d had a short lived obsession with dying your hair. Mark had mentioned it to him in passing, recalling the half a dozen conversations he’d witnessed of you trying to convince your parents to let you bleach it, but he hadn’t really thought about it too seriously until he was over at Mark’s house to work on a project a few weeks later. Your brother, who’s brain stopped working properly when he was hungry, tapped out after about fifteen minutes to hit the convenience store a few blocks away for a pint of ice cream and a few energy drinks.

It was only after the front door slammed shut that Jeno even realized you were home; he was slouched in Mark’s desk chair scrolling listlessly through his phone when he heard the bedroom door creak open, and turned around expecting your brother. It was not your brother.

It was you. Standing in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights as your eyes met, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, hair slicked down to your head with cherry red dye— it was all over your hands, splattered down your neck, an artful blob on the tip of your nose.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. He hadn’t seen you this close for a few weeks now, since this was around the time that you’d started hanging out with your friends more and were rarely ever home. That was what he blamed for the way his brain seemed to start buffering at the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

You stood up straight and hid your hands behind your back like he hadn’t already seen them in all their bloody glory, and said, “I thought you… Left. Just now. With Mark.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. You stared at each other some more. Then, because he wasn’t quite sure what else to do and he’s never really been good at reading a room, he said,“You missed a bit, there. On the top.”

You stiffened, and then your whole body slumped like he’d cut your strings with those eight words alone. “I know. Mark has a little mirror in here somewhere that I was going to steal while he was gone, because I didn’t realize until it was too late that I couldn't see the back of my own head.”

And somehow this ended up with Jeno standing behind you in your bathroom, dutifully brushing red goo into your scalp as you fidgeted and twitched and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him in the mirror, even though it was very obvious that you were. Jeno pretended, like he’d been doing for the last three years, that he didn’t notice— even if he was finding it a little harder than normal to not stare right back.

Back then, he chalked up his jitters to all of the physical things that were happening in that moment. He credited his desire to stand a little closer to you than necessary to the pleasant scent of cherry coming from the dye in your hair, and blamed the uneven straps on your tank top for the reason his eyes kept drifting to the curve of your shoulders. He was hyper-focusing on the tiny beauty mark below your ear not because he found it fascinating, but because it was easier to keep his eyes trained on that than to risk forgetting what he was doing and finding your eyes in the mirror.

When the dye ran out and your head was sufficiently gooped, he’d been gearing up to ask if you needed help washing it out too, when the sound of the garage door opening whispered through the house and you stiffened. In an instant you were plucking the empty dye bowl from his hands and then herding him out of your bathroom— startled, he turned around to mention his sweater, only to find it flying at his chest with enough force to knock him back against the hallway wall. Your eyes were huge as you stood in the bathroom doorway, hand already on the door as if already positioning to slam it shut.

“Don’t tell Mark you helped me,” you said quickly, before blinking very hard a few times, “And— Thank you? This probably would have turned out like shit if you didn’t offer to help me. Thanks.”

Downstairs, the front door opened. Jeno stood there with his balled up sweatshirt in his hands suddenly feeling very odd. Only later did he realize that feeling was hesitance. He didn’t want to go yet. “Why can’t I tell him?” he asked.

“Because Mark’s going to freak out when he sees me, and I don’t want him to get mad at you too for, like, being an accessory to my crime.”

“An accessory to your what?”

“Oh,” you said belatedly. Then you raised your eyebrows at him, lip quirking into an innocent smile that felt like anything but, and his stomach twisted. “Might’ve said too much.”

Your brother's voice rang up the stairs and Jeno made the mistake of turning towards the landing. By the time he turned back to you, mouth opening to speak— even though he wasn’t even sure what he was planning to say— he only caught the last glimpse of your red stained hand through the shutting the door.

Mark returned a few moments later to find Jeno sitting back in the desk chair, back to peering into his phone, but what he probably didn’t notice was that Jeno was really staring at the little, cherry colored splotch on his palm.

Back then he hadn’t known yet, just what he was feeling. He didn’t put two and two together to realize why whenever he’d see the color red in the corner of his eye at school after that, he’d turn around in the middle of a conversation to see if you were passing by; why, when the school strong-armed you into dying it back to its natural color a few days later, the missing cherry red had bothered him more than he could justify. It took him another few months to really get it.

“No-Jam! Dude, did you get lost in there or something? The cola is in the little—The bin thing! In the back!”

Mark’s voice pitches over the rest of his friends' muffled bickering and right through the memory he’s sunk into, and he tears his eyes away from the fridge to remember who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing right now.

It’s movie night. He’s been put in charge of drinks now that the take-out has arrived, and yet he’s malingering in the kitchen like some kind of sad voyeur. Right.

He snatches the cans and shuts the door a little harder than necessary, if only to get away from that photo of you faster. The conversation he returns to isn’t much different than the one he’d left; initially it was Chucky versus Annabelle, now when he sits the rack of soda on the coffee table and sinks back down between Jaemin and Jisung, it’s Jason versus Michael. Hyuck is ripping his hair out trying to explain that Michael is a borderline mutant and therefore obviously the winner in this bracket, and per usual, Chenle is completely unbothered and arguing the opposite solely to raise their friend’s blood pressure.

This would usually be Jeno’s pre-movie entertainment, chiming in with the occasional fact check to keep the sides even, but tonight he can’t focus on their debate. Instead, his eyes drift towards the clock on Mark’s TV stand.

7:06. He frowns.

“Where is Little Lee, by the way? Out getting into trouble?”

It’s embarrassing how quickly Jeno snaps back to attention at the sound of your nickname.

Mark shrugs in response, completely unbothered, even though Jeno is almost boring holes into the side of Mark’s head waiting for an answer to Renjun's question. “She’s at dance practice. Been at it all week for her showcase, and it goes real late. She should be back in about an hour if you’re looking for her.”

“Not looking,” Renjun says, “Only noticed she hasn’t been around. What showcase?”

“Goodness,” Jaemin coos. “My hard worker. Saw her this morning on my way to chem, looked a little like death, eyes all dark and broody. I guess that's why?”

“She leaves in the morning before I do, too. Probably dead tired.”

Mark tries to return to scrolling through Netflix’s catalog but Renjun, not satiated, flaps his hand in front of his face. “Wait, but what showcase, though? I didn’t even know anything was coming up. The school is hosting something?”

“Not the school,” Jisung offers instead. He sounds oddly eager to talk about it, and for a second Jeno is rattled by the idea of Jisung paying enough attention to you to know the intricacies of your schedule, until he realizes it’s the topic he’s excited about. “It’s this thing called the Aegon Showcase, a big competition for unknown hip-hop dancers. It’s a nationwide thing so it’s broken up into different showcases in every province, and there technically aren’t supposed to be favorites, because talent is like, everywhere, but pretty much everyone knows that the Seoul competition is the most popular. It’s pretty difficult to get chosen for Seoul, and yet Y/N’s team got in. They even air it on TV.”

Chenle whistles. “I knew about the competition, but I didn’t know all that. That sounds like a big deal.”

He remembers how sheepish you’d been when Somi told them in his car; the awfully shy look he’d caught on your face when your eye met in the mirror.

“It is a big deal!” Jisung declares, sounding proud. “Yonsei hasn’t been on the roster since 2016, so the guys in my hip-hop class are pretty excited about it. There’s posters up in all the hallways of the performance building and noona’s name is all over them. Jeongsob nearly knocked my head off when he found out I had a ticket to see it live, and I didn’t even tell him it was center house because I thought he’d really hit me.”

“A ticket?” Renjun’s spine straightens indignantly. “From where? When was this an option? I want to go!”

Jisung’s shrug is interrupted by the loud smack of Donghyuck’s mouth as he swallows a swig of his soda. “This is how I know you don’t read my messages.”

“What?”

“I sent you the ticket, loser. I sent everyone the ticket like, a week ago.”

“Where the hell did you get them?”

A beat of silence as Donghyuck stares at him, before he realizes Renjun is serious and begins to whine. “So you don’t read my messages or listen to me. Somi. Jeon Somi! Rockstar’s little blonde bestie pulled some strings and gave us all tickets. Gave the rest of us tickets, should I specify, since Y/N-ie doesn’t love us and only got one for Mark.”

The Mark in question only hums proudly.

“Right up in front,” Donghyuck continues. “All she’d tell me is that they’re opening with DNA.”

“By BTS?”

Chenle scoffs. “By Kendrick Lamar. My God. Listen to something other than Seoul Top 50.”

“Their tracklist must be stacked if they’re opening with Lamar,” Jisung adds, awed.

Jeno has never really seen you dance before. It’s something he’s always known about you, sure, but only through word of mouth; He knew you started dancing because of Mark, since your brother has been telling the story to anyone who would listen for half a decade. How you were dragged along to his lesson one day, bitter about missing out on an afternoon of Guitar Hero for some ‘lousy physical activity’, when the dance teacher happened to notice how quickly you’d been picking up on the moves. She convinced you to come to another, and then another, until you ended up attending those classes more often than Mark did.

Those lessons had been before you and Mark transferred to their school though. Mark dropped dance to pick up basketball, which meant Jeno didn’t hear much about it from him, and while you kept up with it, it wasn’t like the two of you were close enough to talk about things like that.

So it simply stayed a fun-fact. A topic only brought up in passing, like Mark randomly mentioning a competition you had one weekend, or apologizing for being late because he had to pick you up from a lesson across town.

A topic only brought up in passing until the next words that fall out of your brother's mouth.

“That’s the type of music she dances to all the time though,” Mark says belatedly. “Kendrick Lamar I mean. She has like, four or five videos on Youtube from that album alone. It was her favorite for a while.”

“She has videos on youtube?” Jeno blurts.

The world pauses. Or it feels that way to him, since he hadn’t even registered the ending of Mark’s sentence before his own mouth was opening without his permission. It’s the first words he’s spoken in nearly half an hour and it shows in how they all glance at him, varying from brief confusion to clear interest in his sudden curiosity— and he instantly wants to kick himself considering that the latter comes from Jaemin, who’s already suspicious that he’s hiding something.

Mark furrows his eyebrows, staring back at Jeno like your presence on youtube is just supposed to be common knowledge.

“I never told you guys? Freshman year of highschool, she had this channel she’d upload all her dance class videos to. Mostly just for progress, to see how she improved, but I guess they must’ve hit some weird algorithm or something because the videos actually ended up doing super well.”

“Rockstar is famous?” Jaemin asks.

Mark scratches his chin. “Subjectively, I guess so. I meant doing well as in like, a dozen of the videos have broken a hundred thousand views, but subscriber wise she’s not—”

Donghyuck chokes so violently on his cola that it sounds like he’s being waterboarded. Instinctually Jisung starts to pat his back, but even he looks surprised; not that Jeno is confused by why. A hundred thousand?

The second that Donghyuck is able to form words again he all but demands Mark pull up her channel on the TV, which is when he finally seems to realize the predicament he’s put you in. All of your older brothers' friends. Watching your old highschool videos. Without your knowledge. Any little sister’s waking nightmare.

Mark tries to backtrack; ‘Ah, well, the whole reason she stopped uploading was because she got embarrassed about all the attention. She’d seriously kill me if she knew I showed you guys.’ But Hyuck only grins. ‘You damned yourself to that the second you mentioned it at all, tiger. You know I’ll just find it on my own if you don't, right? I’ve got resources!’

Doubtful. Donghyuck can’t even find files on his own computer, much less sift through the entire internet for a few six year old videos from a person that’s no longer uploading. Even though Mark doesn’t look fully convinced, glancing warily between his phone and the clock like he’s worried you’ll walk through the door the second he picks up the remote, Jeno knows he’ll fold. He always does.

We shouldn’t, he could say to help. Y/N wouldn’t like it. You know she wouldn’t.

He would’ve a month ago. Maybe even a week ago.

But right now he’s mortifyingly desperate to see you again, even if it’s only through the glass of a screen. So he does nothing but swallow his shame when Mark sighs, “One video. One! And if she finds out, dude, I’m telling her it was you!” and snatches the remote from the coffee table. He does nothing when Mark scrolls through the seemingly endless list of people he’s subscribed to, and he continues to do nothing when you blip to life on the television, Xx_SGirl2002_xX’s youtube channel.

Mark presses play on the first video there is, the last thing ever uploaded to your account— a three-minute clip titled ‘Kiss Kiss - Chris Brown, (J’HO’s ADV class)’ with ninety-eight thousand views.

Jeno knows it’s 2016 from the date in the description but for some reason he’s still startled by how young you are here. This is how you looked when he met you, and its a whiplash he isn't prepared for. Fourteen years old with a glare that could cut down grown men. You have on a baseball cap that Jeno recognizes because it actually belongs to Mark, and an oversized t-shirt over a pair of green sweatpants (that Jeno also recognizes, because you wore them around your house all the time in high school)— but there’s no time to get into the intricacies of your outfit because soon enough the beat kicks in and Donghyuck is squealing like this is his favorite song.

You’re dancing with four others who look just as confident as you, bouncing on their feet before the choreo starts, but it immediately becomes clear why you’re in the front. Your movement is so natural that Jeno would’ve thought you were freestyling if it wasn’t for the others you’re on beat with, easily capturing the center of attention with your style— though he knows you’re not intending to.

That’s how you’ve always been. The brightest person in the room, without even realizing it.

It’s not as surprising as he expects it to be. Despite never having seen you attempt to dance in front of him in your life, he’d somehow always known you were going to be this good. It’s familiarity probably that keeps his eyes on you, even when the videos go on and on and on and new dancers filter in and out of the choreographies. He’s only made aware of how blatantly he’s ignoring everyone else in your videos when Jisung excitedly points out that he recognizes one guy you’re dancing with, some famous popper in the hip-hop circuit, and Jeno has to drag his eyes away from you to even realize you’re dancing with a man in the first place.

Too engrossed in showing you off now to remember why he’d been so hesitant in the first place, Mark, obviously, fails to stick to his word. They’re on video four or five when there’s the very, very sudden sound of the front door handle rattling.

It’s mere dumb luck that Mark manages to scramble for the remote fast enough to mute the TV before you get the door open. It’s even luckier that you wander into the apartment with both your headphones in and your eyes squinted at something on your phone. It’s just enough time for them to all assume the picture of perfect innocence when you do finally look up— appearing almost startled by the sight of them all staring at you with wide eyes, silent and still like a bunch of weeping angels.

Jeno for an entirely different reason than the rest of them, however.

“Hello… all?” you greet, clearly suspicious, but you can’t seem to put your finger on the reason they’re all looking at you, and this makes the whole room seem to relax.

“You’re late, Rockstar,” Jaemin says, playfully scolding, “Take-out’s gone cold.”

“I ate before practice. What are you guys doing?”

“Is it not obvious? Movie night, of course!”

There’s a beat as you glance at the TV behind their heads, all their eyes on you, before you nod slowly.

“Movie night. Right. Uh. I’m going to head in early since I have to be out of here early tomorrow, so try not to have too much… fun out here. I’ll leave you guys to it then?”

You readjust your duffel on your shoulder and pull an apple from the bowl on the island as you pass, not sparing a glance behind as you head for your room.

“Too much fun?” Jaemin echoes quietly beside him, the both of them still staring off after where you’d just been, when Donghyuck curses and brings their attention back to the front.

“Are you fucking— Has this been on the screen the whole time?”

It’s only belatedly Jeno realizes that, in his haste to just get your youtube channel off the screen, Mark must’ve just pressed any recommended video from the suggestions. Even if it didn’t make the most sense for them to be so diligently watching. Because, still muted, a video of an aerobics class plays on the TV dozens of women in a giant studio, dressed in very tight, very small clothes, all bending over and lunging and casually contorting their bodies into positions that would probably make nuns across the country blush.

Quite the movie you walked in on them watching. Together. Without speaking. On mute. Mark gasps when he realizes this and snatches the remote again, frantically clicking on something else like the damage hasn’t already been done, and Chenle laughs until he cries when he, also, finally understands what a sight that must’ve been. Jeno probably would’ve found it hilarious too, if he’d been paying attention to it at all.

Instead, all he could really think about was the fact that while he couldn’t take his eyes off of you— you hadn’t thought to look in his direction once.

Movie night comes to a close with two casualties— Renjun and Jisung, snoring and completely unconscious on the couch and floor respectively— Mark shooing the rest of them out at one in the morning with a loud yawn and a promise to continue Scream VI after everyone's classes tomorrow night.

Per usual, Jeno gets sacked with taking Jaemin home. And per usual, like a Gremlin straight from the films, Jaemin turns into a pit of insatiable hunger after midnight and demands they stop at a drive through so he can get something to eat.

But if Jeno is being honest— he really just wants to go home.

He’s tired. It’s been a long day. Four classes, basketball practice, having to take his car to get looked at because the air coming out of the aircon kept smelling like burnt lemons. The final nail in the coffin had been you not even batting an eye at him when you’d gotten home, when he’s been physically unable to think of anything else besides you for the last four days.

He is entirely ready to call it a night… but he knows that he’ll never, ever hear the end of it if he doesn’t take Jaemin somewhere before he drops him off, and it’s only fate that he spies McDonalds golden arches at the next turn signal.

He whips into the drive through and is preparing to turn right back out of the lot when the food is safely in the vehicle a few minutes later, but Jaemin asks him for something he’s never asked for before.

He asks him to park.

Jeno glances at him, incredulous, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to be joking at all. “You can’t wait until you’re home?”

“I’m hungry, I said. And I want to eat in peace.”

“You had two whole servings of that Lo Mein and still snuck some off of my plate.”

“Don’t fat shame me,” Jaemin replies mildly, eyeing the steaming contents of the paper bag. “My digestion is only a quarter of the reason. Jaehyun will snatch this from me if he sees me come into the house with it. Just park it, will you?”

And because Jeno has never really been one to argue, despite being annoyed by the detour, he does just that.

He should’ve known better though. Jaemin knows a dozen ways to sneak food into that apartment without setting off the nose of his brother; the two have been living together for a year and a half. He’s never asked him to park before because he’s never needed Jeno to park— but he doesn’t start realizing any possible ulterior motives until a few minutes in, when (after he’s polished off half of his nuggets in complete silence) Jaemin asks how he’s doing.

Jeno’s eyebrows dart up to his hairline. “What?”

“I’m asking if you’re okay,” Jaemin says. “Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that you’ve been off these last few days. What’s on your mind?”

“What’s on my mind?”

And only then does he put two and two together.

“Is this... is this an intervention?”

“What? Of course not! I can’t just wonder how my friend is doing?”

“You made me drive you into an empty parking lot at one in the morning because you were just wondering? Are you even hungry?”

“I would never lie about food,” Jaemin says with great offense, seemingly forgetting himself for a moment before he sees the jarred look on Jeno’s face. “Well. Okay. Fine. I just… I heard what happened on the balcony with you and Rockstar a few days ago.”

It’s like being suckerpunched.

“You’ve been all weird since,” he continues, “And watching you do nothing about it is starting to stress me out.”

Jeno expects to feel angry once the shock wears off; to get mad at Jaemin for eavesdropping, or butting in, or for trying to offer advice Jeno didn’t ask for. But nothing actually comes to him besides an eye twitch, courtesy of Jaemin’s straw squeaking as he stabs it through the soda cup lid.

He releases the tension from his spine. No need to play coy, then. “Weird is an understatement.”

“Of course it is. You’ve been moping around like you’re about to be executed.”

“Because I screwed up, man.”

“What?” Jaemin says flippantly. “Hardly. There were a few rough edges, like how you probably could’ve gone without calling the poor girl’s eternal undying love for you… cute, but as far as I know nothing you told her was a lie. I don’t actually see where you went wrong in telling her that her brother was the reason you didn’t acknowledge her feelings when she asked.”

Jaemin says nothing for a moment as he leans forward, shaking and then rifling through the brown bag for the few fries that had somehow escaped his previous sweep. Jeno knows better than to take that speech as final verdict, however. A silence this heavy over ever means that there’s a but. There’s always a—

“If you’re not interested in her anymore, that is. Because what you did up there was pretty straightforward, for someone who was actually trying to let a girl down easy.”

And there it is. Jeno screws his eyes shut and exhales for much, much too long, if only to focus on the feeling of his lungs caving in instead of where he is and what he’s talking about.

“And if I wasn’t trying to let her down easy?” Jeno asks.

Jaemin doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps his eyes trained lazily on the traffic going by, humming as he inserts another whole nugget into his mouth. “Then you’re fucked.”

Okay. Here the anger comes, just a little belated. The wave of irritation that hits him at Jaemin’s stupid reply catches him off guard. Then you’re fucked. If Jeno didn’t already know that would he have asked? Did Jaemin bring him out here to rub it in? Just to hear the details?

Without thinking he jams his middle finger into the push to start, roaring the car’s engine to life— if his only goal was to remind Jeno of his colossal mistake then he could finish his damn nuggests elsewhere.

“Woah, woah!” Jaemin bursts as the car jerks into first gear, big eyes wide in alarm, “Damn, man, I was just— Can I finish before you tear out of here like fucking Batman?”

“Why can’t you just eat while I drive?”

“What? No, I meant finish what I was saying! There’s still hope for you, dipshit!”

And he sounds so sure of himself that Jeno can’t help but hesitate. With a huff that even he knows is petulant, Jeno knocks the shift back into park and drags a heavy, tired hand down his face. “What hope.”

“Have you maybe considered telling her how you feel?”

“Did you pull that from an episode of Dr.Phil?” he mocks childishly, but before he can finish Jaemin socks him in the arm hard enough to make him yelp, patience waning, and wary of being hit again Jeno says the first thing that comes to mind.

“No! No, I’ve never considered it, because I don’t… I don’t know.”

Jaemin says nothing, so he just keeps going. “I don’t know how I feel. Whenever I felt myself caring too much about what she was doing I’d just chalk it up to Mark’s overprotectiveness rubbing off on me or something, and I’ve been like that for so long that it’s just become my go-to answer. I’ve never let myself think about it long enough to come to any other conclusion. I couldn’t.”

“Because you were scared of what you’d realize if you did?” Jaemin finishes, unsurprised. “You’re so stupid.”

“Fuck off,” Jeno bites, but Jaemin shakes his head.

“No. You’re actually dumb. You already know how you feel about her. You’ve known. You’ve just never let yourself say it out loud because saying it out loud means confirming it, and confirming it means you have to choose, but not looking at the writing on the wall doesn’t mean it isn’t there. What you still don’t seem to realize is that not choosing is still a choice.”

“A choice that keeps everyone happy,” he replies through a taut jaw. “Y/N got over me, and Mark doesn’t hate my guts. Easy.”

Jaemin looks like he has a lot to say about that statement, but swallows it down to ask the one he finds will get him the closest to his goal. “Why are you even friends with Mark if you think he’ll hate you over something like this?”

“What?”

“Don’t get mad at me, Jeno, actually think. He’s your best friend. You’re closer to brothers than two people who only met in high school. But you swear he’d drop you without a second thought if ever found out that you ever happened to look at Y/N in a way that wasn’t entirely innocent. Why? Are you some sort of threat Mark should be wary of? Do you have nefarious intentions with his baby sister?”

Jeno balks. Jaemin is clearly just trying to rile him up, his questions nothing but rhetorical, but regardless of knowing this Jeno still feels something angry and dark churning in his gut. His voice is a touch sharper than me means for it to be when he says, warningly, “What the hell are you trying to say, Jaemin?“

“I’m not trying to say anything! I’m asking you, because I’m seriously starting to think that you’ve never asked yourself! What reason do you actually have for thinking Mark wouldn’t even hear you out?”

“I know you’ve heard him, man. When he told us she was hanging out with Yeonjun again, you don’t remember that? How pissed he’d get— the tangents he’d go on, how he’d insist no guy was good enough for her, how guys ‘our age’ have nothing good in mind when it comes to chasing after girls? You think just because we’re his friends that rule doesn’t apply to us?”

“I don’t think that, actually,” Jaemin snorts and pulls yet another nugget from the bag. “Especially because Yeonjun was a super senior that was nearing twenty when he graduated, and had a reputation you could see from around corners for using girls like fast food napkins. That’s your big hang up? That Mark didn’t want some sleaze like that hanging around his sister?”

He has a point. But in Jeno’s mind this isn’t nearly enough to undo years and years of Mark’s theoretical judgment hanging over his neck like a guillotine.

“Yeonjun is a strong example, but it still seemed pretty clear to me that he meant that about every guy. Not just the real shitheads.”

“Then you read him wrong.”

Jeno surprises even himself when he laughs. “What makes you so sure, Na?”

“‘Cause he—” And Jaemin hesitates. All that informative bravado wavers, a visible wave of uncertainty crossing his face. “Because a few years ago he pretty much gave me permission. To go after her, I mean.”

Jeno thought for sure that after Wooyoung’s party he’d really experienced it all. The confusion, at first, as the explanation fell so casually from your mouth; Hooked up with one of your siblings friends, Somi said. But you only had one sibling, and Jeno also was pretty fucking sure he knew all of Mark’s friends since. Some itchy part of him wished you were lying— merely putting a finger down to look cool amongst the party goers and not because you’d actually lost the round, but he knew you and was therefore acutely aware of the fact that you weren’t one to play pretend for strangers.

Then, before he even had time to come to terms with why he felt so bothered by this knowledge, Somi accidentally outed this mysterious Mosquito Boy and Jeno felt like he’d just been doused in ice.

In the span of a few seconds he ran though the five stages of grief like a racecar zipping around a closed track. Denial, quick and easy, he thought Somi must’ve just been mistaken. That Jaemin probably just looked like whoever it was that you hooked up with, and in her stupor tried to connect dots that weren’t there. But not only did that stop making sense once he really thought about it— since you explicitly mentioned the lake house and Mark’s birthday, two landmarks that would be very hard to miscalculate— he’d seen the look on your face when Somi said it.

You weren’t annoyed that she got it wrong. You were terrified because she’d gotten it right.

Then came anger. Sharp and barely contained, Jeno’s eyes drifted from your face to Jaemin’s, and a wash of deep, burning… something, took him over. Jeno might not have been able to name the crime Jaemin committed, because you were both consenting adults who were fully allowed to do what they pleased and it wasn’t like Jaemin was bound by blood to tell them everything he did in his freetime, but Jeno as he watched Jaemin smile at you, none the wiser to what secret of his had just been spilled to half their class, he still felt like he was staring at someone who should be on the top of a wanted list.

There simply was no final stage of acceptance, because for the last week he’s been stuck squarely in depression. Replaying that moment on the balcony over and over again like a kid picking at a scab, moping around campus like some sort of ghost as the days went by.

He thought he’d felt it all, in the last four days. He thought that there were no more bombshells to be dropped.

This presumption is blown out of the water when, after the near fifteen seconds it takes for him to compute what Jaemin has just said, Jeno finally feels something new.

And whatever it is, the appearance of it on his face seems to worry Jaemin greatly.

“He gave you… permission?”

“Which I did nothing with,” Jaemin says with careful haste, “I didn’t. He’d just… picked up on something. He took the fact that I dote on her so much as— As a sign, or something, that I liked her, and pulled me aside one day before you and Hyuck got to their house.”

He swallows. “When?”

“Some time when we were juniors. I know it was close to summer because I just turned eighteen.” He laughs, awkwardly and a little too loud, like this is the first time he’s telling this story and is just now realizing how ridiculous it is. Jeno doesn’t laugh with him. “I asked if Rockstar was coming home ‘cause I had something for her, and he said dropped her off at her friend’s house already. Then he got this look on his face and said, super seriously, that he wouldn’t mind if she liked a guy like me. I said what, he said what, and then elaborated that he noticed how much I fuss over her and stuff, and that if I liked her more than I let on that he’d be cool with it. Said I’d— He knew I’d treat her well.”

“Cool with it,” Jeno echoes distantly. “Cool with… you. Dating Y/N.”

“I turned him down,” Jaemin tells him for some reason. “Just laughed it off, because I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Why?”

He blinks like this is the last question he was expecting Jeno to ask. “Why?”

“Obviously, you—” The words almost don’t want to come out. “You’re clearly attracted to her. I don’t see why you wouldn’t take that as a greenlight to really pursue it.”

“You’re asking me why I didn’t ask her out?”

“Yes?”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t do anything about it because of you. So you could then kill me in my sleep?”

“I wouldn’t have felt anyhow about it,” Jeno lies. “If Mark gave you his blessing then that— That has nothing to do with—”

“Yes it does, man! I only brought it up because it’s proof that Mark doesn’t just shoot blindly when it comes to who his little sister likes, and if you don’t have to worry about that, you can stop lying to yourself about what you really want. You have a chance.”

“I had a chance,” Jeno blurts before he can swallow it, truth sharp and instantly sobering. “Before the lake house. Maybe even before what I said on Saturday. But—” He remembers the look on your face on the balcony. The clear, deep hurt. Then he remembers how you looked at him an hour ago. Or how you didn’t look at him, more realistically— Casual, unbothered, composed.

Unlike him, you’ve already reached some semblance of acceptance.

“But this time I think I really messed up.”

The lights of the restaurant are too bright in his periphery. The silence is too quiet, and the air in the car is too suffocating. Again he’s grabbed by the urge to go home, and before Jaemin can say another word Jeno glances at the finally empty fast food box in his lap.

This time when the engine revs and Jeno wordlessly kicks the car into drive, Jaemin says nothing.

You owe it to her to tell her the truth, you know.

Jaemin lives in an apartment with his older brother, a few short blocks from Jeno’s own place. The ride had been mostly silent, neither of them really feeling the need to speak in lieu of the rather tense exchange they’d left behind— the first thing Jaemin said since they left the parking lot was when he was pulling in front of the building, and it was for Jeno to cut down on the moping if he didn’t want to have wrinkles by twenty-five.

Before Jeno could roll his eyes and tell him to get out, Jaemin opened the door and stepped out himself; but not without doing what he does best. Lecturing.

She’s miserable. You’re miserable. I know you know that much.

Jeno only sighed.

All because of one big miscommunication. I know you, and I like to think that after half a decade of being in her house I’d know Y/N pretty well too, and you’re both never going to be able to look at each other again without this hanging over your heads if you don’t sort it out. If you’re so sure that this is the end, then you have nothing to lose by telling her the truth about everything. Everything. How you feel now, and how you felt then. And if there’s any part of you that believes this can be saved, then you need to try as hard as you can to make sure it happens. And it starts with you manning up and telling her feelings weren’t nearly as unrequited as she thinks.

And Jeno wasn’t quite in the mood to tell him he was right, so he didn’t. Instead he squinted at Jaemin, and asked the question that’s been prickling in his mind since they pulled out of the fast food place.

“What Mark said about giving you his blessing,” he started, “You said you turned it down for me.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Because regardless of how obtuse you are, I know what I saw. You liked her. A lot. I wasn’t getting in the way of that.”

A beat.

“And If I wasn’t there to get in the way?”

It’s a clear inquiry to Jeno, cut and dry, but Jaemin laughs like he’s just been asked a trick question. With his eyes narrowed and a cavalier smile in his expression, Jaemin stared at him as if he was thinking ‘Do you actually want to know the answer to that?’ and in that moment without a single word spoken, Jeno saw it all. There was a world quite similar to this one where they weren’t having this conversation, or talking so casually about you, or sharing advice. A world where Jaemin was a more opportunistic person who didn’t care that Jeno had liked you first; A world where they weren’t friends, but rivals.

If you weren’t in the way then she would be mine.

“I don’t think asking things like that is going to help you get the girl.”

“I would still appreciate the clarification,” Jeno said, just as vague.

“Mmm. I bet. Well, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin tapped the roof of the car twice, the whole car echoing with the force of it despite how casually he spoke, “My answer to that question is going to make you do everything but appreciate me, so how about we call a draw here, huh? Before we open that can of worms and everyone gets all… thinky.”

And they both knew that by not answering Jaemin had actually replied loud and clear. But once he heeded his words— really sat there and thought about it, what good it would do for anyone if Jeno knew how Jaemin really felt about you, he found himself agreeing.

Maybe ignorance is bliss.

“You smell like french fries,” Jeno called offhandedly, as Jaemin retreated closer and closer to the revolving doors of his building. He turns right as Jeno steps out of the driver's seat, just in time to catch the tiny cologne he keeps in the console for emergencies. “No chance Jaehyun won’t clock you.”

Jaemin cooed. “So thoughtful you are, No-Jam! If you weren’t so buff and scary, Y/N-ie might’ve had competition.”

And for the first time all night, maybe even all week, Jeno felt a genuine laugh.

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster! plus, yay, new chapter after a literal entire year, LOL

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ghostofhyuck · 3 days

Text

Gang AU Series 1

Bodyguard! Mark Lee x Mafia’s daughter! Reader

Summary: “I’ll be happy to die, if it means protecting you.”

cw: violence and mentions of death.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“You know, it’s a bad idea —-”

“Mark please!” you let out a deep sigh. “Stop being an overthinker! You’re making me nervous.”

“See! Even you're nervous about it, that means there’s something wrong with it!”

“I’m nervous because I might fuck up my speech if you don’t stop talking!” you shouted, proceeding to go to your dressing room and slamming the door against your bodyguard.

You felt peace now that you’re not in the same room as with Mark. You went to the drawer full of jewelries, pulling the first slide as your mother’s collections of pearls went on full display. You only smiled bitterly as you recall how your mother is so obsessed with pearls. You remember when you’re just a kid, you watch your mother dress up and wear her sets. Now, it’ll be you who’s wearing it.

You felt your heart tightening. It’s been a year since your parents died. A year since they left you and your older brother Johnny to take over their empire. An underground black market that sells illegal products and trades with guns.

It’s been a year and yet you still couldn’t comprehend how they died. An ambush, during a mayor’s dinner party. There weren't any other casualties aside from them. As if they’re the targets. After all, after their death, a lot of people attempted to take over the empire. Luckily, your brother is already accustomed to managing the market. Your brother was a powerful man, that’s why they didn’t stand a chance against him.

On the other hand, you tried your best to live a normal life even though you never had a normal family background. Coming from a family who’s been in a gang for years, there’s a huge part of your life that needs to be hidden. Not to mention, being the only daughter means they’re much more protective when it comes to you.

That’s where Mark comes in. He’s used to working under the gun trades but Johnny seems to be fond of him along with some of the other members, that’s why he made Mark your personal bodyguard.

“Yn, are you done? Because it’s almost 8 am, and we don’t wanna get stuck in the traffic,” Mark said behind closed doors.

“Yeah! Just a minute,” you shouted back. Wearing the last assembly of the set which is the pearl necklace. You went to the full-size mirror to check your fit. You only smiled because the pearls complimented your outfit. You went out and saw Mark on his phone. He glances at you and stands up from his seat.

“So,” he clears his throat. “You’re really going —-”

“Mark, shut the fuck up,” you cut him off. “I am going whether you like it or not, Johnny already gave me permission plus it’s a school event!”

Mark became quiet, he was about to say something but then thought that it’s a bad idea.

“What is it?” you asked with gritted teeth.

“I’m just trying to look after you,” Mark justified.

“Well it’s not helping, you’re suffocating me,” you answered one last time before storming out of the room, where the others are waiting.

“Damn, Mark-hyung got you already?” Donghyuck teased.

“Shut up Hyuck, is the car ready?” you asked.

“Of course it is princess,” the latter said.

You had Mark as your bodyguard four years ago. He’s three years older than you but your brother assures you that he’s a skilled fighter along with the others.

Having Mark as your bodyguard meant having another annoying older brother. He’s overprotective and an overthinker too. At some point Mark was definitely much worse than your brother who’s very chill with you as long as you come home alive.

It got worse when your parents died. Something shifted inside Mark that he became twice as overprotective and overthinker than before. It went to the point that you feel like you have no freedom at all, and it sickens you.

You tried numerous times to shove him away, even complaining about it to Johnny who only laughs at your complaints.

“Soon, you’ll understand why you need someone like Mark,” Johnny winks at you before leaving you alone in your room. You sat there, surprised because of your brother’s words. You tried to understand his side but as day passed by, Mark just didn’t do anything but to get into your nerves.

The car ride was tense, you notice how many times Mark glances at you in the rearview mirror while seated at the passenger seat. You tried your best to keep calm, practicing your speech numerous times. You are required to attend a school event because you’re the awarded student leader in your college department. It was an honor for you and you also wouldn’t miss the opportunity to hold a speech and talk for your fellow students.

The university was bustling with people, perhaps it was because of the annual school festival. There’s a lot of booths, activities, and events prepared for the whole week. Mark became more tense as they arrived inside the campus. You stepped down from the car, the remaining others getting out of the car.

You were about to leave when Mark grabbed your arms.

“Mark, we’re inside the school campus, it’s okay —-”

“It’s not okay yn, just this once please,” he said with a soft tone. “I can just accompany you alone if you want, there’s no need for the rest to come.”

You raised your eyebrow but you saw the worried look on his face and somehow, you couldn’t help but to soften. He’s right, and you feel like you’re being too harsh to him. You could only tug your arms away from him before proceeding to walk.

“Donghyuck can come too.”

“You heard her!” Donghyuck chuckles. “See you later losers.”

All eyes are on you as you walk towards the auditorium where the event will be held. It couldn’t be helped especially when your family’s background earned you quite a reputation too. And to think that you’re walking around the campus with two guards behind you just adds more to your image.

As you reached the auditorium, you were welcomed by the event organizer who’s a friend of yours. You only smiled as she ushered you towards the backstage but you remembered the two.

“You two just stay here, get a seat maybe, the talk will start in a few minutes. I just need to freshen up,” you told them. Mark only nods while Donghyuck gives you a thumbs up and “Good luck!”

As Mark watched you walk away, he couldn’t help but to let out a sigh. Donghyuck glances at the older.

“Stop worrying too much,” Donghyuck chuckles, playfully slapping Mark’s arms.

“I don’t know man,” Mark replies. “I just feel like something is off.”

The program started a few minutes later. Mark and Donghyuck stood there and watched you enter the stage with a bright smile on your face. Their eyes are locked on yours as you went to the podium and started delivering your speech.

Mark still couldn’t feel at ease as you delivered your speech. Everything feels off and he wanted to to trust his guts despite what you and Donghyuck said. He glances at Donghyuck who’s only smiling proudly, watching you deliver your speech in front of your fellow students. As Mark glances at his right, his eyes widen.

There were two men talking to each other. They were wearing caps and shades, trying to hide their identity. He nudges Donghyuck who only ignores him. As the older nudged Donghyuck harder that’s when the younger complained.

“Hyung what the fuck —-” Donghyuck wasn’t able to finish his words when he heard gunshots.

“Fuck, get yn!” Mark shouts, as the sound of another gunshot was heard.

You didn’t know what happened, all you knew was the first gunshot was heard and the next thing you knew, you felt something painful scraping against your arms. You fell down out of shock, and the continuous firing can be heard. You watched as the students panicked, trying to find their way to exit the auditorium.

You were helpless as you tried to stand up and escape when someone grabbed your arms. You almost screamed when you were welcomed by a familiar face.

“Yn it’s me!” Donghyuck shouted.

“Where’s Mark!?” you asked.

“Handling the guys, we need to leave —-”

“ — wait, what about Mark!?”

“He can handle himself, don’t worry,” Donghyuck said one last time before dragging you and escaping your way out of the auditorium.

You watched as the school ground turned into chaos. You couldn’t believe that what’s supposed to be a great day turned into a nightmare not only to yours, but also to innocent students. You wanted to help them but Donghyuck’s strong arms dragged you away from the chaos.

“Hyuck!” You saw Jeno approaching along with Jaemin.

“Help Mark-hyung there! We need yn safe,” Donghyuck orders.

“Renjun’s already had the car started!” Jeno shouted before going inside the auditorium.

You couldn’t help but to cry as you entered the car, Renjun immediately drove away from the campus as soon as the doors closed. Donghyuck could only pat your shoulder lightly, trying to assure you that everything’s going to be alright.

“It’s my fault Hyuck, I should’ve listened to Mark,” you said between your sobs.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” the older one said. “Also stop worrying about Mark-hyung, he can handle it. He wasn’t hired by Johnny-hyung if he was weak.”

“This is bullshit, who the fuck would do it at a school event!?” Renjun muttered angrily as he drove.

“Hyung! Focus on the road!” Jisung shouted.

“It’s obvious that it was a perfect timing for them, especially since it’s yn’s first appearance after Mr. and Mrs. yln died,” Chenle explained. “But they probably hired the wrong people, look, they barely shot you.”

That’s when you remember that you grazed your arms. Your sleeve was stained with blood but it wasn’t that deep. You only wince because of the pain, while Donghyuck covers it with his handkerchief.

“You should rest for now yn, we’ll just tell you when we arrived,” Donghyuck said.

And you couldn’t even protest. That’s when you slowly felt exhaustion get into you. A few minutes later, you doze off to sleep.

You don’t know that it was already night when you woke up. As you sat up from your bed, you couldn’t help but to groan in pain due to the sudden movement. You look around and notice that you’re in your room, and as you look at your clothes — someone changed it into a comfortable tee and cotton shorts. Your arm had a bandage wrapped around the graze, that it’s most likely your bodyguards’ doing.

You noticed that the pearl set that you were wearing is resting idly on your side table along with your bag and phone. You grabbed your phone and saw that it was almost eight in the evening. You were asleep the whole day.

That’s when you decided to get out of your bed and have yourself some food. You opened the door and was surprised to see that the hallway was empty. Usually, your bodyguards will be there waiting for you. Now that you notice it, the house was eerily quiet.

But as you enter the kitchen, you heard small noises and to your surprise —

“Mark!” you shouted.

As he turns around, he only gives you a smile, making yours drop.

“What happened to you!?” you asked as you saw his cuts and bruises, not to mention, the arm sling.

“It’s nothing, just a fracture bone —-”

“Are you stupid!? How can you say that it’s just nothing?” you shouted. You couldn’t help but to cry, seeing Mark all rugged-up because of the event earlier.

Mark approaches you and slowly places his other arm around you, pulling you closer as you continue to cry.

“Hey it’s okay, I’m okay see?” Mark said softly. “I just fell on the wrong side, that's why I broke some bone.”

“I can’t believe you let yourself be left behind, what if you died!?” you shouted.

“Well that’s my job, if it means dying to protect you, I’ll do it,” Mark explains, and because of his words, you punched him in his chest, making him exclaim in pain.

“Stop that,” you said.

“No seriously, I swore that to Johnny-hyung,” he said in a serious tone. “I’m going to protect you no matter what.”

You became quiet, your swollen eyes staring at his brown ones. Mark only gave you his sorry smile and you don’t know what to say. Perhaps this is what your brother is trying to say to you.

Mark’s loyalty cannot be compared to the others. He was dedicated to protecting you no matter what, even if it means sacrificing himself, he would willingly do it for you. You only fall into your own thoughts as your eyes wander around his wounds. You don’t know why but your hand intrusively reached for his cuts, you saw how Mark tried to cover up his pain.

“Can you promise me something?” you asked.

“Anything you want, I’ll do it,” he swore.

“Don’t die for me,” you stated. “If you want to protect me forever, you have to keep yourself safe too.”

Mark only chuckles, grabbing your hands as he kisses the palm of it. “If that’s what you want, then I swore to you that I’ll be safe.”

#nct imagine #nct dream fic #nct dream #nct fic #nct #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct mark #nct mark fic #nct dream mark #mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark lee fic #nct 127 mark

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planetkiimchi · 7 months

Text

and they were roommates | l.dh

featuring: lee haechan x masc!reader, nct dream

warnings: a little (?) bit of gore, blood, and a “crunching sound” which in my head was bone breaking. swearing but not a lot, alcohol is mentioned, ynhyuck get really drunk at some point, the first line is a bit painful to read but that’s just what cold weather feels like, yn has major regrets quite a lot. y/n is oblivious but in their defense, donghyuck is really fucking flirty and the mixed signals are confusing to everyone. y/n doesn’t like coffee (deal with it) and eats pizza in the absolute weirdest way possible.

word count: 13882 words

playlist: nonsense by sabrina carpenter // photograph by ed sheeran // fallin' (adrenaline) by why don't we // sweet nothing by taylor swift // coffee shop by flowerovlove // really wanna dance with you by new rules

summary — lee donghyuck is the most flirtatious person you’ve ever known and he makes you feel welcome in the foreign country. it makes sense that you gravitate towards him, but what do you do when you realise you’re falling for him with every act of his?

a/n: this has been rotting in my drafts since march, and it really only made it out because of @winterchimez thank you so, so much to ally for reading this longass incoherent fic and allowing me to share this piece of my heart with you guys

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

THE BITING WIND BLEW HARSHLY at your cheeks, turning them redder than they already were. It felt as if there were a million shards of ice slowly chipping away at your skin, your skin cells freezing off your face.

What a warm welcome to Seoul, you thought sardonically.

You had enrolled in Seoul Institute of the Arts for one reason alone, and that was that the only cousin who was your age, Na Jaemin, had applied to go there last year. Having made an unexpected decision not to go into Neurosciences like the rest of his friends, Jaemin found himself blissfully alone and afraid to apply. He wasn’t planning on going alone, yet he desperately wanted to get in, so he had decided to turn to you for assistance.

That was the first time you had heard him admit that you were his favourite cousin (you probably weren’t). You had been on the other end of the spectrum at the time, completely unsure what direction you wanted your life to continue in. You had had no idea what to pursue, and had hence decided to make an impulsive decision to apply to Seoul Institute of the Arts with Jaemin.

To be very honest, you hadn’t expected to get in. It was a spur of the moment decision, and SIA was an extremely prestigious university. Your background in visual arts was minimal, so you were mostly relying on your extensive dance history to carry you through it.

Unfortunately for you, it worked. This was how you had ended up on the plane to Seoul a year later, your regret almost as bitter as the cold when you thought about how lonely you would be.

Your grasp of the Korean language was minimal, and you hated how the phonetic sounds differed just slightly, enough for you to get it wrong but not for you to understand why.

It was alright when you lived in the United Kingdom, because there you only had to say a few words in Korean to impress your non-Korean relatives. Privately, your mother had taken you out of the Korean international school when she saw that your Korean hadn’t improved in the slightest.

In Korea, you would be disadvantaged both by the language barrier and your lack of passion for your major. Besides, if the weather continued to be as cold as it was at the moment, you might as well have stayed in England. At least there, you could romantically share an umbrella with someone in the dreary rain. What could you do in Korea, huddle with someone as you ran from building to building while a flurry of white snow fell from the sky? How pathetic.

You were absorbed in your thoughts, feet carrying you mindlessly through the steps towards the arrival area. You struggled and stuttered your way through immigration with broken sentences, finally making your way to the taxi stand.

You were mentally preparing yourself to exit the warmth of the airport and face the freezing temperatures when you heard your name, face turning towards the direction of the familiar voice.

Jaemin ran up to you, the soft smile gracing his face as close to a wide grin as you could get from him. He threw his hands around you, hugging you tightly, and you collapsed into his warmth, so relieved that he was there. Maybe Seoul wouldn’t be so bad after all.

When he let go of you, composing himself, you took the time to scan the new faces. Jaemin hadn’t come alone; he had come with three other friends, who were all looking at you expectantly with welcoming gazes.

“I’m L/n Y/n,” you told them politely. “Jaemin’s my cousin, and my mother and his father are siblings.” With that, you ran out of things to say, and you stared at the group with an awkward smile as the silence turned thick with hesitation.

The silence was then broken by a rather cheerful individual amongst Jaemin’s friends, who said, “Shall we go? It’s late, and I’m sure you’re tired from the long flight. We’ll take a taxi back to the dormitory and show you your room. You and Jaemin are staying together, right?”

You nodded gratefully as the young man took the lead, and the rest of you followed suit. Jaemin reached out to help you with your luggage, but you shook your head. There was no need since you hadn’t brought much to Korea. You intended to buy anything you needed there since you assumed the clothes you needed would be quite different from those you owned.

You quickly came to realise that the young man who had just spoken was the only extrovert in the group. You and Jaemin were introverts and perfectly content to sit in silence. The others didn’t seem to make any attempt to strike up a conversation, letting the silence settle comfortably over you. However, despite being in the passenger seat and therefore the furthest from the rest, the young man simply wouldn’t stop talking.

He introduced himself as Lee Donghyuck who had graduated from the same high school as Jaemin. He and Jaemin had only met a month ago when they first moved into the dorm. You had had to make arrangements for your flight when you received the acceptance letter, so you were among the later few to arrive.

Although Donghyuck and Jaemin were essentially strangers, it wouldn’t have seemed so to a passerby. Donghyuck ensured that there was never a dull or awkward moment and that no opportunity to flirt with his friends was missed.

You had only known Donghyuck for an hour and yet you were already starting to like him. You relaxed into the seat, closing your eyes and exhaling in relief as the sound of Donghyuck’s voice prattling away filled your ears.

He talked during the entire ride, telling you about the rooming conditions—four to a room, and you were with him, Renjun and Mark, the other two in the car—, the professors’ reputations that he had gotten from the seniors, and the other three boys who were sleeping and weren’t able to pick you up.

Usually a talk like that would have drained your energy, using up all your social battery trying to think of a reply to keep the conversation going. However, the thing about Donghyuck was that he didn’t expect you to answer. He was perfectly fine with the sound of his voice being the only thing filling the silence, which made it much more bearable.

—

You only realised that you had fallen asleep when Jaemin shook your shoulder to wake you up. In the corner of your bleary vision, you caught sight of Mark paying for the ride, and you instinctively reached for your wallet before realising it was safely tucked away in your back pocket. Which you were sitting on.

Sighing, you silently apologised to your parents for not maintaining basic etiquette and insisting on paying, clambering out of the taxi with shaky legs, feeling a little tired (not that you would admit it).

You soon realised that Donghyuck was a clingy person. While you leaned on Jaemin for support as you wheeled your luggage along, he leaned on Renjun’s shoulder, upbeat as ever despite the late timing. The high-pitched voice that he used to talk to Renjun would have been cringey if it wasn’t him doing it. Somehow, when Donghyuck was doing it, it was cute and endearing.

The room that you were assigned was on the second floor, so you had to choose between climbing the stairs and lugging the heavy luggage up or walking out of the way to find the lift.

Obviously, as the lazy person that you were, you chose the former. With a grunt and a heave, you somehow managed to get the luggage up the stairs while Donghyuck cheered you on.

“You’ve got this, Y/n! I believe in you!” When he saw that it wasn’t working, he even threw in a little “Fighting!” and you smiled despite your exhaustion. You would have laughed if the ache in your shoulders wasn’t killing you.

Fortunately, that was the hardest part. The rest was easy—you left your shoes outside the door, placed your luggage at the side so you could unpack your nightwear and take the things you needed for your shower. Donghyuck, Mark and Renjun followed you inside while Jaemin retreated to his own room.

The room was surprisingly cozy, with enough space for a bookcase, desk, and four single beds. There was a mini fridge in the corner of the room, so that was what you went to first.

The guys had placed their personal belongings neatly, so you followed suit, taking out your personal items and setting your luggage upright against the wall. While you did so, Mark and Donghyuck used the two attached restrooms to get changed while Renjun sat on the floor and watched you curiously.

“Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking? You couldn’t have studied in Korea, surely. Jaemin didn’t exactly tell us much about you,” Renjun said.

“My mother grew up in Korea, and went to England to study. She met my father there, and I grew up in England, but I do know a little Korean,” you said with difficulty. “And you? Your name doesn’t sound very Korean either.”

“I’m from China but came to Korea because my grandmother suggested it. I actually came on a scholarship and went to the same high school as Donghyuck. All of us went to the same one, actually.”

You nodded in understanding. Understandably, people gravitated towards those they knew, especially in unfamiliar environments.

“Donghyuck actually initiated this. I’m not sure if you realised, but he’s very outgoing. He somehow found out all of our phone numbers, knew of my existence through passing me in the hallways, got Jaemin’s number from a mutual friend, Jeno, and created a group chat. Even now, I still think it was a lot of effort, but it seems to have worked. And, you know, it isn’t half as awkward anymore.”

That did sound like something you would expect of Donghyuck, you thought. As Renjun finished speaking, Donghyuck and Mark came out of the restroom, and you brushed past them as you went inside to take a quick shower.

—

The shower did wonders for your exhaustion. Your muscles didn’t feel half as tense anymore, and you actually felt fresh and comfortable in warm clothes. You rubbed your hair dry as you exited the restroom, glancing at the filled beds.

Mark and Renjun were lying in bed, and they gave you a quick goodnight as you made your way over to the last empty bed, right next to Donghyuck. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie, sitting hunched over at the edge of his bed, looking intently at his phone.

If it were Jaemin, who also happened to have a terrible shrimp posture, you would have tapped his back to remind him to sit up straight, taken his phone from him while setting it down on the bedside table and told him to sleep.

As it was, he was Donghyuck, not your cousin, so you didn’t have the right to do so. Instead, you snuggled into your bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin until you were nice and warm, shutting your eyes as you said, “G’night, Donghyuck.”

You didn’t see him raise his head and turn to see you, smiling when he realised that you had spoken to him properly for the first time that day. He whispered softly, “G’night,” and put his phone away. He let out a sigh of relief as he flopped onto the bed and fell fast asleep.

YOU QUICKLY SETTLED INTO A ROUTINE at the university. It was easy to do so when each of your days had a set schedule and things for you to do. It was never monotonous, but the structure helped to keep you going and not stop.

In the mornings, you woke up to beverages on the table, which Donghyuck bought for everyone. At first, he hadn’t gotten your order right. He had memorised the others’ orders during the month that they had been roommates before you arrived, but took a couple of times to get what you wanted right.

Coffee from Donghyuck looked something like this: a cup of steaming hot coffee would somehow make its way to the table in the mornings after you came out of the shower, or finished changing your clothes. The coffee was always accompanied by a note. For Renjun, it was a compliment, and it was often about how pretty his eyes were. For Mark, it was either a “you’re so amazing, never forget it”, or a “stupid fool”. There was never an in-between.

And for you?

Well, on the first day, it was a frappuccino with plenty of sprinkles on it, the sugar content so high you were sure it made up for the lack of actual caffeine in it. That gave you a sugar rush so bad you could barely sit still in lectures, knees constantly jiggling under the table.

You knocked over your bottle twice that day and even almost dropped your laptop on the floor because your knee hit the bottom of the table, causing your laptop to slip.

After that, Donghyuck realised sugar wasn’t your thing.

The second day, he went for an espresso that probably had eight shots in it. (It was then accompanied by a pickup line, “do you have a map? cuz i got lost in your eyes”. It was cheesy, but some part of your heart found it cute.) You recognised it as Jaemin’s order, and had laughed to yourself when you realised that Donghyuck wasn’t very good at guessing what you liked.

However, you stopped laughing as soon as you tasted the drink. The espresso was pure caffeine, so black and bitter you wanted to spit out every sip you took of it. You probably would have been better able to stomach a shrimp linguini that you were allergic to than you did the espresso.

That day was pure hell. Your classes didn’t begin until the afternoon, so the day began with a dance class. You missed your bus and had the taste of the espresso in your mouth while you suffered through your dance class. The teacher was strict, which you generally didn’t mind, but that day, it felt like he was out to get you. He corrected you at every turn, and you had every mind to quit.

Afterwards, you realised that you had forgotten to do the pre-reading for your class and had to rush it as you sprinted to the building, only managing to absorb at most a quarter of what you were meant to know.

To make things worse, you had gotten lost three times trying to find the classroom and were late and completely lost for the whole class. You eventually gave up trying to comprehend what was happening, instead leaning over to the seat next to you and asking your classmate to send you his notes.

He was a little confused, but he agreed, and that was how (you thought) you made your first friend outside Jaemin’s friend group.

It later turned out that his name was Jeno, and he was the mutual friend that Renjun had told you about. So he knew both Donghyuck and Jaemin, so all your pride in talking to someone new dissipated faster than the taste of espresso in your mouth.

Since you didn’t really have many other friends besides the “dreamies”, which was what Jaemin’s friend group called themselves, you had no one but them to complain about your terrible day.

Donghyuck learnt his lesson for the next time. The third time, Donghyuck bought you jasmine green tea with boba at 25% percent sugar because he “remembered that you didn’t like the sugar rush the first time”. He had circled the sticker on the cup in red pen so you could see the exact order and had written: without milk, because i'm not sure if you’re lactose intolerant.

You were glad that he had finally caught on and realised that you didn’t like coffee much. While you weren’t the biggest fan of tea, you did enjoy boba and that ended up being the most pleasant beverage out of them all. It was partly because he had considered your possible allergies and remembered your dislike of the frappuccino. But more importantly, you liked it because Donghyuck had put so much effort into trying to find something that you would like instead of simply asking you what you liked like a normal person.

However, even that wasn’t the end of it. Donghyuck could tell from your reaction to the drink that it wasn’t something you were expecting and was dead set on finding out your favourite drink order.

It took about five more tries before he finally found out.

It happened when Mark came to pick you up after your dance class, with Jisung (one of the dreamies) in the passenger seat and Donghyuck in the back seat of the car. You had all but collapsed into the seat, limbs tiredly splayed out across the backseat of the car.

To his credit, Donghyuck hadn’t complained about you taking up space, only shifting so that you could comfortably sprawl across two seats while he sat upright in his. When you stretched and knocked his jaw, he laughed good-naturedly and lowered the middle seat so that you could prop your head up and rest comfortably.

When you woke up, the car was parked in front of a convenience store, and Mark told you that Donghyuck and Jisung had gone to get some ramyeon and other items.

Despite Mark’s protests, you zipped up your jacket and climbed out of the car, intent on getting yourself a box of Nesquik packets to get your energy up after the long day.

You intercepted Donghyuck at the glass doors, dragging him with you as you made your purchase and held it in your hand sheepishly as you followed Jisung back to the car, waving your box of Nesquik packets at Mark in explanation as you entered the car.

Mark nodded knowingly, and as he started driving off, he asked, “You’ll make me a cup too, right?”

You nodded, replying in English. “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

“Oh, so you’ll make it for me because we’re friends, not because you want to thank me for my driving services?”

“That too,” you shrugged. Donghyuck looked between the two of you, completely lost.

“Can I have a translation, please?” As Mark translated it to Donghyuck, you took note of the words you were unsure of, taking out your phone to note it down. You were too busy trying to catch what Mark said to notice the fond look Donghyuck gave you, mentally noting to help you with Korean when he could.

After that day, Donghyuck always made you hot Nesquik in the evenings, and you grew used to coming home to a hot steamy mug of the delicious beverage.

—

Amidst the busy classes, being with Donghyuck felt like the calmness of the deep waters in the middle of a storm. His presence made the mountain of work piling up feel manageable and made all your stress and worries seem trivial. Donghyuck made everything bearable for you.

Throughout the semester, you constantly had to translate different your pre-reading to English and record your lectures to come back to Mark to ask him for help. Mark probably learnt more from your lectures than you did, but it helped enormously.

Mark was always patient, never growing tired of helping you. When he couldn’t translate something either, you always fell back on good old Google Translate or simply asked the professor yourself.

Some of the professors spoke fluent English, which was a huge help, and most were willing to help you as long as you showed initiative in taking charge of your own learning.

One afternoon, you returned to the dorm with a cinnamon roll in hand and your papers in the other, looking for Mark to help you.

Unfortunately, Mark was away, having been called to help tutor another of his friends. The only one at the dormitory was Donghyuck, who was busy tapping away at his laptop. Disappointed, you turned to leave to find your professor instead when Donghyuck turned, seemingly having a sixth sense for your presence.

“‘Sup,” He nodded at the papers in your hand. “Do you need help with those, or…?”

You nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I was gonna ask Mark for help, but it seems like he’s not here, so I’m going to find one of my professors instead. Or probably one of the other students, I don’t know.”

Donghyuck waved you over to the desk, and you pulled out a chair and sat down. He hummed as he read through the sheaf of papers before handing them back to you.

“I can’t say I’m very good at English, but I’m sure we could figure it out together. Anyway, we both major in Fine Arts, so it can’t be that hard, right?”

—

That was how you and Donghyuck ended up at the shared desk in your room, huddled over papers as you groaned about terminology. You didn’t understand why dance needed such complicated terminology; if dance teachers could “hm ah one-two” their way through their classes, surely you didn’t need your major to get a job in the industry.

However, Donghyuck refused to let you give up, guiding you through the questions one by one. The pre-reading was especially difficult, but when Donghyuck let you read it aloud and helped you with words you didn’t understand, suddenly, it felt a lot easier.

It helped that the professor had plenty of visual resources, and pictures and videos helped to attract your attention. Whenever there was a video of a certain dance technique you needed to know about, you eagerly clicked on it, grateful for the reprieve it offered from the constant onslaught of words on your screen.

Somehow, just like that, the afternoon passed by rather quickly, with both of you efficiently clearing everything that you needed to by the time Mark returned with takeout for all of you.

Donghyuck reached out to help taking the containers out of the plastic bag, hissing sharply and almost dropping the container on the table. “It’s hot!”

“What were you expecting?” You asked incredulously.

He shrugged. “I thought it would have cooled down on the ride here or something.”

Mark stared at him. “My car’s heated.”

The realisation hit Donghyuck like a truck, and you couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you at his shocked face. “Right, shit. I forgot about that.”

You were doubled over in laughter, and Renjun had to shake your shoulders roughly to get you to stop. When you could finally stand straight again, you looked Donghyuck in the eyes and snorted.

“You’re pretty dumb for someone who knew all the answers to my homework,” you told him.

“Well, you’re pretty annoying for someone who just got my help for his homework,” he retorted.

You couldn’t argue with that. You made a face, to which Donghyuck made a face back, and you harrumphed and sat down to enjoy your takeout.

You noisily slurped your noodles, some of the sauce splashing on your face. Before you could reach up to wipe it away, Donghyuck reached for your chin, pulled you towards him, and gently wiped your face clean with his thumb.

You froze, caught in his gaze. The two of you stared at each other, Donghyuck raising his eyebrows and smirking, before you finally shook your head free of his grasp and moved back, flustered. You were sure that your face was as red as a tomato, but Donghyuck only laughed.

He laughed like it was nothing, and the careless sound of his laughter mixed with the look on his face made you smile too. You couldn’t help it, his happiness was contagious, and sometimes you found that Donghyuck made your life a lot more bearable.

“I'M BORED.”

Donghyuck was sprawled out on the bed, glasses resting precariously on the tip of his nose (he’d forgotten to wear his night lenses the night before). Next to him, Renjun was sitting on the edge of his bed, studiously texting Chenle. Even Mark, the most disciplined of you all, wasn’t doing work.

The room smelled of dirty clothes and… Chinese takeout? You cast a glance over at the coffee table that you ate at, and realised that there were still empty takeout containers on the table. You quickly went to throw them away, scrunching your nose in disgust at the sheer amount of hoodies piled up on bags, the backs of the chairs, and generally strewn about messily.

“Yah, Donghyuck, come and clean up your mess.”

Donghyuck looked over at your annoyed face and quickly got up, obediently putting his clothes away and throwing the dirty ones into the hamper.

“I’m going to bring these to the laundromat, why don’t you call the others over and we’ll have a pizza party? I don’t think any of us is in the mood to do work now.”

Donghyuck nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it. Y/n, what pizza would you like?”

“Jaemin knows. Just get whatever the majority wants and we’ll share.”

“Sounds good,” Mark chimed in. “And, Y/n, can you bring this too?” He handed you a bag full of dirty clothes and you shifted the hamper over to one side so you could handle both, and Renjun helped you with the door as you shuffled out.

—

When you came back, Jaemin informed you that he had ordered pepperoni for you, since Jeno wanted some meat, and Donghyuck had gotten Hawaiian and four-cheese for the others. They had bought the largest size, so hopefully it would be enough for all of you.

When the pizza came, everyone dove in with renewed energy, the lethargic boys coming back to life as they scarfed down the food. Donghyuck reached out to take a slice of your pizza, withdrawing when he realised that there were olives on it.

“What, you don’t like—what’s the word?” You asked.

“Olives?” Mark supplied.

“Yeah, olives?”

“Nah,” Donghyuck replied. “‘M not a fan.” Yet his face betrayed him, and you could see the longing in his eyes as he watched you eat your pizza, looking down sadly at his own.

“Do you want to trade? You can pass me the olives from the pepperoni, and I’ll take your Hawaiian as long as you keep the pineapples.”

“You don’t like pineapples?” Donghyuck asked, scandalised.

“Of course not, who does?” You looked at Jaemin. “Come on, Jaem, back me up on this. Besides, fruit on pizza is such a strange concept.”

“Tomato’s a fruit,” Jisung pointed out, mouth full.

You frowned. “Don’t talk with your mouth open. But okay, fair point, I concede. Fruit on pizza isn’t weird, just pineapple on pizza.”

“Hey!” You threw Donghyuck a triumphant grin, handing him a slice of pizza with the olives plucked off, heaped on your plate. There was oil dripping from your hands and mouth, so you wiped your chin with the back of your hand and got up to wash your hands.

“Don’t touch my pizza,” you warned.

Renjun mock-gasped. “How scary!” When you glared at him, he quickly corrected himself, “Oh, I meant, ‘wouldn’t dream of it!’”, to which you nodded approvingly in response.

—

You returned to your seat only to find Donghyuck had started a new, heated discussion, and everyone was participating actively, except for Jeno, who looked content with stuffing his mouth and just listening.

“I think it’s fine if they separate the leaves, it’s just weird if they do it while giggling and giving each other flirtatious looks,” Chenle was saying.

“But there’s no other reason to do that than to flirt!” Donghyuck cried out.

“What’s going on?” Renjun, bless his soul, explained the perilla debate to you while Donghyuck and Chenle went at each other’s throats. It turned out that the perilla debate was very simple: if your significant other helped to separate the pesky perilla leaves for your close friend to eat, was that acceptable?

You cocked your head in confusion. That was a topic up for debate? It was simple enough to leave people alone to eat, especially if they were both people you knew and trusted. If you could bring them out to eat together, what was the reason for you to prevent interaction between them? If you were that sensitive, you might as well not have invited them to eat at the same meal.

You voiced out your thoughts, but Donghyuck wasn’t having it. “It’s just dumb. Why was your significant other paying attention to the friend? They should be paying attention to you!”

You gave him a hard look. “Seriously? It’s not like you can forbid interaction between two people you love. You just think it’s weird because you’re an outrageous flirt, and in those circumstances, you would definitely be doing it with an ulterior motive.”

Chenle and Mark nodded in unison. “Face it, Hyuck, your opinion is just wrong.”

Donghyuck pouted and turned his back to you all, furiously opening up the food app on his phone and tapping away.

Jeno leaned over his shoulder to take a peek and began laughing uncontrollably, almost choking on the food in his mouth. “He’s ordering a dish with perilla leaves on it to prove his point!”

The entire room burst out into laughter, and you were so loud you heard a knocking on the door as someone told you to “shut the hell up, it’s already 10pm and some people want peace and silence.”

Subdued, the laughter died out, but wide grins remained on your faces as you watched Donghyuck in amusement, intent on proving his point and unwilling to give up until he had showed you all.

The food arrived faster than you had expected, and Donghyuck ran to the door to receive it, laying out the bowl and showing everyone the perilla leaves.

He handed Jaemin a pair of chopsticks and pointed to the dish. “Okay, Jaemin, you’re going to pretend that you can’t pick up the perilla leaves, and then I’ll swoop in and save the day.”

Jaemin immediately shook his head, vigorously expressing his disagreement. “I’m not getting dragged into this stupid shit. Jisung, take the chopsticks.”

Jisung crossed his hands over his chest, waving away the chopsticks. “Why don’t you pass it to Y/n? He’s the one who started this whole thing, after all.”

You were shoved into the seat opposite Donghyuck, a defeated sigh leaving your lips as you took the chopsticks and tried to pick up the perilla leaves with your chopsticks. You didn’t even have to fake a failed attempt to pick it up; your chopstick skills had never been good, so no matter how you tried, you couldn’t pick it up.

Seeing your genuine struggle, Donghyuck took the chance to expertly pick up the leaves and separated one piece from the rest (show-off). “Ahh,” he said, and you opened your mouth instinctively.

“Is it good?” He asked sweetly, and you nodded dumbly. It was actually pretty good, but you didn’t know why. You had never liked perilla leaves much, but maybe the way Donghyuck was looking at you or the pressurising gaze on your back made it taste a lot better than you used to think it did.

“That’s good, Y/n-ah.” He reached over to brush your hair out of your face, but it just flopped back down in front of your eyes again. He giggled, and that was your breaking point, and you broke out of character, laughing into your palm as Donghyuck shrugged as if to say, See? “I told you, it’s an intimate gesture!”

You shook your head exasperatedly. “If you say so, Lee Donghyuck.”

You went back to eating, peeling off the ham and cheese from your pizza to save for later. It was your favourite part of the pizza, so you didn’t want to waste it.

“Y/n…” Chenle’s warning tone made you look up in fear.

“Yes?”

“What in the world are you doing?”

“I just like ham and cheese,” you replied defensively. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Chenle shook his head exasperatedly. “No, just- that’s the weirdest way of eating pizza I’ve ever seen.”

“Well,” you said, licking your fingers clean, “Jaemin used to separate the gummies into flavours and pass me all the strawberry ones when he was little because he hates strawberries, so you should give me a pass for this one.”

While Jaemin tried to defend himself against your sudden jab at him, Jeno set up his computer on the table and waved everyone who was done eating over onto the bed, using his mini projector (he was a film major) to project his screen on the wall.

“What do y’all want to watch?”

“All of us are dead,” Renjun said without hesitation. You and Jisung looked at each other nervously, not being lovers of horror movies and especially hesitant because of the zombies in the series. However, you were outnumbered 6 to 2, so you settled in under the blanket and drew it up to your eyes, prepared to scream if anything scary happened.

Jisung didn’t join you, probably to hang onto whatever shreds of fragile masculinity he still had. You had thrown away all of yours because it wasn’t like you could control your fear anyway. You preferred to scream in comfort, thank you very much.

The episode started out surprisingly tame, so you lowered the blanket and leaned forward to get a better look.

Donghyuck let out a little “oof” when you rested your chin on his shoulder, but only scooted backwards so you could have a better view.

You were just starting to get absorbed in the story, thinking that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all, when one of the girls was turned into a zombie.

“Fuck!” You screamed, leaping back as the girl’s neck cracked at an unnatural angle, blood dripping from her nostrils and mouth. You cowered under the blanket that you had hurriedly pulled over your head, shuddering in fear with your hands clasped tightly over your ears.

You were still trembling when you finally decided to peek out from under the blanket, meeting Mark’s and Donghyuck’s concerned eyes with a reassuring smile.

“I'm all right, y’all. Just surprised.”

Mark snorted. As if. But he didn’t challenge you, instead asking, “Why the hell do you know fuck in Korean and not ‘delivery service’? One of them is clearly more commonly used than the other.”

“Yeah, and that’s fuck. I think you forgot that we’re all still teenage guys and male youths. Swearing is part of our vocabulary.”

“Fair enough,” Mark conceded.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, came closer to you, back pressed to the wall as he rubbed your back comfortingly. “Do you want to watch something else?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. It’s actually interesting, I just get grossed out.”

Donghyuck nodded in understanding. “I'll sit beside you, and when the scary scenes show up, I'll cover your ears so you can pull the blanket over yourself. Sounds good?”

You nodded.

The episode continued, and you successfully made it three entire episodes before you got another jumpscare, and Donghyuck did as he had promised, wrapping your head tightly in a hug so you couldn't hear a single thing.

He squealed, “cute!” when you were scared and hugged you tightly. He covered your view so well you didn’t even need the blanket to hide the scene from yourself.

Donghyuck ended up hugging you for the rest of the night, and you leaned your head on his shoulder and squeezed his hands extra tightly whenever something happened, shutting your eyes when you heard any crunching sound.

Just like that, you made it through one season of “All of Us are Dead”, falling asleep past midnight with your only friends in university in your room, with someone by your side embracing you as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

—

While you were asleep, the others cleaned up the mess that they had made, throwing out the empty pizza boxes and takeout utensils, wiping the table clean and moving all clothes to one side.

The dreamies from the other room left after bidding Mark, Renjun and Donghyuck goodnight, while the remaining three in your room took turns showering in the toilet.

When Donghyuck, the last of the three, came out of the toilet towelling his hair dry, he realised that you were lying across two beds, blanket kicked off your feet.

He hung his towel up and went over to you, sighing as he placed his hands under you and tried to lift you up.

However, he forgot that you were both taller and bulkier than him, and staggered back when he tried to carry you. He rested his hands on his hips, staring down at you as the gears whirred in his mind, trying to figure out a way to move you.

Mark’s eyes flitted open, and he had a clear view of you and Donghyuck from his bed. He saw Donghyuck struggling but chose not to say a thing, waiting patiently for Donghyuck to make another move.

With a soft groan, Donghyuck hefted you into his arms and staggered around the bed before dropping you back down, in the correct position that time, on the right bed.

Luckily, you were fast asleep, so you didn’t wake up. Mark reached over to Renjun’s bed and nudged him awake, whispering, “Bet you 10,000 won that when they end up together, Donghyuck will kiss Y/n first.”

Confusion flashed over Renjun’s face before he understood. He hadn’t realised that Donghyuck was clearly interested in you, hadn’t even known that he was interested in males until Mark pointed it out. But once it had been brought to his attention, it seemed as if it had been clear all along.

“He’ll never confess aloud, I bet Y/n will have to make the first move,” Renjun countered.

“We’ll see,” Mark said. Renjun agreed, and soon the room fell silent as all four occupants drifted off into dreamland.

THE NEXT DAY WAS A SATURDAY, so everyone woke up late. By the time you opened your eyes, it was 9am, and you were the second one up. The bed beside you was Donghyuck’s, and it was empty.

Donghyuck didn’t seem like a morning person to you, so you were surprised that he had left the dormitory room so early in the morning. You blinked tiredly, hauling yourself out of bed to get breakfast. The sound of you rummaging through the mini-fridge for food must have been quite loud, because Mark woke up and stared blankly at you, eyelids drooping sleepily.

“What’re you doing?” He mumbled.

“Looking for ingredients to make breakfast with. We only have ramyeon, but I’m pretty sick of that.”

“Hyuck works at his mom’s bakery on weekends, there’s probably food there. If you’re hungry, just head over and get food from him. He’ll know what we like, and you can buy whatever you want.” With that, Mark fell back asleep before you could ask him to tell you the address.

Just then, a yellow-coloured post-it on the table caught your eye and you went over to take a look. It said in neat handwriting, “y/n, i’ve left for work. if you want to come over to café 127, you can study there and we can take the bus back to the dorms afterwards. it’s pretty close by,” and the address, signed with “yours, hyuck.”

“Huh,” you said, tucking the note into your pocket after looking up what bus to take to get there. It was only a couple of stops away, awfully convenient, and you weren’t going to give up the chance to study.

You changed into presentable clothes, grabbing a coat and your wallet before heading out of the door.

—

The café was bigger than you had expected. It was really close to the university, and located on the streets, so you couldn't possibly miss it. You loitered outside the café for a bit, debating whether to go in.

A flash of movement caught your eye, and you saw Donghyuck flitting about, taking customers’ orders.

Inhaling deeply, you squashed your nerves and calmed yourself down, going inside.

The café smelt like… Donghyuck, oddly enough. It smelt like vanilla essence and chocolate chips, and the same scent of perfume that Donghyuck probably used. You must have unconsciously associated the scent of Donghyuck with home, because entering the café felt like coming home to warmth after a long, cold day.

You grinned at Donghyuck and waved at him, taking a seat by the window. You placed your bag on the seat and went to buy yourself something, queueing in line behind two other people.

When it was your turn, your gaze flickered downwards, darting over the black, dapper uniform Donghyuck was wearing. The simple apron that bore a golden-brown logo on the right side wouldn’t have looked half as good on anyone else, not that you would admit it.

“Morning, Hyuck. I’d like…” your voice trailed off as you realised you didn’t even know what they sold. You peered into the display case, seeing fudge brownies and cinnamon rolls for sale.

Donghyuck’s mother bustled past, giving Donghyuck a few orders when she caught sight of you, stopping short in her tracks with a delighted gasp.

“You’re such a handsome man,” she told you. “You look like a prince!”

“Mum,” Donghyuck whined. “He’s my friend, you’re embarrassing me.”

Donghyuck’s mother laughed, and her mannerisms were exactly like Donghyuck’s. Her face crinkled up and her eyes disappeared into a line, and even the sound of her laughter was exactly like her son’s. Mama’s boy, you thought to yourself.

“Silly boy, of course you’re handsome too. After all, you are my son.” At that, even you broke into laughter. That must have been where Donghyuck got his confidence from. Donghyuck rolled his eyes and asked you to get on with your order.

“I’d like a cinnamon roll, please,” you decided, and paid for it.

“You just like cinnamon rolls because you're basic,” Donghyuck teased, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“And what about it?”

Donghyuck raised both his eyebrows at your defensive tone, but he didn’t take the bait, instead handing you your change and order. “Have a nice day, prince.”

You shot him a confused look, then realised he was teasing you for what his mother had said about you. “You too, pretty boy.”

It was good that you had turned around so you couldn’t see how furiously Donghyuck blushed when you said that.

—

You wouldn't have realised that it was past noon if Donghyuck hadn’t tapped your shoulder, wrenching you out of your focused state and drawing you back into reality.

In his hands, he was clutching a muffin, which he placed in front of you along with a mug full of steaming Nesquik. “Eat first, don't be so concerned about your work,” he chided, and you rolled your eyes but thanked him anyway.

When you gratefully bit into the muffin, you felt melted cheese oozing out of it, and you pulled it away from your mouth, staring at it in amazement. You took your time, savouring every bite of the muffin. It was still warm from the oven and tasted heavenly.

You spotted a few pieces of ham inside the muffin, and realised that it was a ham-and-cheese muffin! You hadn’t seen that in the display case earlier, so perhaps Donghyuck had baked it himself.

You made a mental note to ask him about it later, returning to your work with a full stomach and heart.

—

As you got up to leave, collecting your mug and the plate to return to Donghyuck for them to wash, you realised that there was a little sticky note on the other side of the mug.

It read, "for my prince. study hard <3", and you couldn’t help the blush creeping across your cheeks. You felt your face heat up as the corners of your lips lifted up into a smile. He’s so stupidly pretty.

—

Donghyuck came home smelling like pancake batter and cinnamon rolls, which was enough to confirm that you were down horrendous for him.

When he slipped into bed, his voice was slightly husky from talking the whole day as he took down orders. “Good night, Y/n.”

Instead of answering, you rolled over to face him, asking, “Do you think I'm handsome?”

Donghyuck hesitated for only a second, but it was enough to make you nervous. Why didn’t he want to respond? Was it because he didn’t like you, or something else? Your mind conjured up endless unreasonable questions, almost going crazy with the silence that was thick with tension.

“I think you're attractive, definitely. Why, are you feeling insecure?” He asked. “I hope you know that when I saw you at the airport, my first thought was ‘Shit, my position as the visual in the group is being compromised.’ I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

You were still dissatisfied, so Donghyuck approached you as if to inspect your face, and pointed at his eyes. “I'm wearing my night lenses now, so I have 20/20 vision, and as a self-proclaimed expert, I declare you a ten out of ten. Happy?”

You laughed softly. “Yes, Hyuck. Thank you.”

Donghyuck permitted himself a small smile, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Silly prince. Now can you go to sleep?”

You nodded. “Night, pretty boy.”

The answer came almost immediately. “Goodnight, my prince.”

IT ALL WENT DOWNHILL FROM THERE.

Ever since the realisation that maybe, just maybe, you liked Donghyuck (just a little bit), everything had gone downhill. You couldn’t do a single thing without Donghyuck at the back of your mind. If you so much as walked beside him, your mind went crazy with thoughts of him brushing his arm against yours intentionally, how close you could walk next to him without being too obvious about it, how beautiful he was when he laughed or made a joke that no one laughed at.

Your mind just couldn’t shut up. Yes, you understood that you had a silly little crush. Yes, you knew that Donghyuck was gorgeous. Yes, you were one of his best friends and therefore, saw him relatively often. No, that did not mean you needed him to occupy every. Single. One of your thoughts. You were perfectly fine without the presence of Donghyuck in every crevice of your mind, thank you very much.

However, your subconscious disagreed, and continued to torture you with thoughts of Donghyuck kissing you or brushing your hair out of your face. It was too much for you to take, especially when Donghyuck seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you.

At present, his face was slightly flushed, and sweat was beading on his forehead. He was clearly tipsy, swaying on his feet as he leaned on Renjun’s shoulder. He took Renjun’s chin and turned it towards himself, as if to kiss him.

Renjun tore himself away from Donghyuck so quickly that Donghyuck should have gotten whiplash, disgust evident on his face. “Argh, don’t kiss me!”

You felt the green monster slowly loosen its grip on your throat, slinking back in shame as you breathed in heavily. What was wrong with you? There was no reason for you to be jealous. Donghyuck was just like that, he flirted with anything that had a pulse and couldn’t confront his feelings. You knew it, and yet you didn’t want to accept it.

Stinging from his rejection and very much drunk after all the alcohol he had drunk, Donghyuck was even whinier than usual, if that was possible.

He leaned on Mark’s shoulder, and soon it became a game of “Pass the Donghyuck”, and he was shifted from one shoulder to another until he had made one round from Mark’s shoulder all the way to yours.

The weight of his head on your shoulder was refreshing. It felt like you could finally think, and the fog of your crush had lifted just enough for you to realise that the Lee Donghyuck was drunk and clinging onto your shoulder.

His glasses were slipping down his nose, and you wondered why he had even worn it in the first place. You reached up to take it off, but he shook his head vigorously. “Can’t… see without ‘em. Everything’s so… blurry.” He heaved and you stepped back quickly, afraid that he would puke all over you, but he only stumbled into your arms.

You caught him, breathing out a sigh of relief. The club was terrifyingly loud and you wanted to go home.

Empty bottles littered the counter, shot glasses teetering dangerously close to the edge. You pushed the glasses in and one toppled, and you clumsily reached out to catch it before it fell, but missed. Luckily, Mark was still sober and his reflexes were fast enough for him to catch it when it rolled off the table, falling straight into his hand like that had been its trajectory all along.

Your limbs felt as heavy as lead, a feeling not unfamiliar to you. It always felt like that after a long, tiring day of dance lessons. But the feeling was somehow… different. It felt like you had lost control of yourself and it scared you. You didn’t want to lose consciousness.

“Mark,” you called, too soft for him to hear. You were tired and it took almost all of your energy to call him again, louder that time. “Mark!”

Mark turned and his smile dropped when he saw Donghyuck and you, so drunk you might’ve passed out if it weren’t for the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You felt like you were in a limbo, halfway between wide awake and unconscious, too drunk to comprehend anything but also too excited to go to sleep.

“I want to leave this place. And I think- I think Hyuck should go home too.”

Mark looked around anxiously for the others. Jaemin was sitting in a corner of the room, clearly feeling out of place. The club was too loud for both of you. At least Chenle, Jisung, Renjun and Jeno looked like they were having fun dancing, but you remembered Renjun had looked more at home when Donghyuck was leading the conversation.

Everyone wanted to go home. You were a lightweight, and Donghyuck had simply let loose and gone crazy on the vodka, but it was enough. You needed to leave, and you recognised that. It was past 3am on a Sunday night, and you all had to go home before your classes the next morning.

Mark went to collect the rest of the dreamies, and when Chenle tried to make a fuss, Mark whispered something in his ear that pleased him greatly. Without further protest, soon all the dreamies were gathered where you were and you could leave.

You all had trouble getting out of the bar, let alone getting into the car. You, Jisung and Donghyuck were stumbling like drunkards, relying on the support of your friends to get you to walk. Jaemin held on to you tightly, gripping your elbow so hard you thought it might leave marks.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, annoyed that you had drunk so much even though your alcohol tolerance was low. It was like you were children again, and you were playing video games late into the night even though you had school the day after.

Yet, even after all those years of you making stupid decisions, he was still there for you when you came crashing down. Maybe you really were his favourite cousin, after all.

The designated drivers, Jaemin and Mark, brought three passengers into each car. You and Donghyuck were meant to be split up so there were more eyes to look after each of you, but Donghyuck grabbed hold of your wrist and refused to let go.

Jaemin let out a sigh. “Jeno, you go with them.” He was the third least intoxicated and among the strongest in your group, so he had a higher chance of being able to handle the two of you.

Jeno guided you into the seat, where you collapsed, finally making yourself comfortable. You removed your coat and draped it on the head rest, while Donghyuck snuggled into your lap.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Donghyuck nodded. “Has anyone told you you’re really pretty?”

You laughed. “Yeah, your mum.” Donghyuck cringed, and you quickly clarified. “Donghyuck, your mother literally told me I look like a prince. I’m sorry, but you can’t top that, though I’ll give you extra points because you look cute when you’re drunk.”

Donghyuck let out a little giggle and snuggled into you. You’d forgotten how clingy he got when he was drunk. “Life is so tiring,” he told you matter-of-factly.

“I agree.” Your eyes shut and you leaned your head back, the muscles in your back relaxing.

“Shh,” Donghyuck stopped you, pressing one finger to your cheek. You assumed that he had meant to silence you and placed it against your lips, but he was so drunk that his hand-eye coordination wasn’t the best. “Don’t interrupt.”

You snorted, amused.

“As I was saying, life is really tiring. It’s tiring being this handsome, it’s tiring having a crush on my roommate and not being able to confess it because I’m a coward, it’s tiring having to work instead of staying home, and it’s tiring pretending that I’m perfect.”

“What was the middle one?”

“It’s tiring having to work?”

You raised your eyebrows sceptically. That wasn’t what you had meant, and he knew it. Sure, you were drunk and could have imagined it, but you were pretty sure Donghyuck had just confessed that he liked one of you. And since he only had three roommates, you had a 33.3% chance of being the one he liked.

The odds were good, but not entirely in your favour.

Donghyuck’s forehead was sweaty and his hair was sticking to his face, so you gently brushed it out of his face, and he gripped your wrist so tightly you questioned if he was indeed drunk. If he were sober surely he wouldn’t have had that strength, but he definitely had the guts when he was tipsy.

He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and your heart shattered inside.

Honestly, you would have been happy if he was sober. Perhaps then everything would be truthful and genuine and not the manifestation of sober thoughts, but a conscious choice. Because drunk decisions did not mean that Donghyuck would have done the same if he had been sober. You knew that he probably would not have, and that hurt deeper than you would care to admit.

Donghyuck was so oblivious to the effect he had on you. He could be making you go crazy inwardly and not care, but the moment he was drunk, he had the audacity to flirt with you. He had no care for your feelings at all, and you hated it.

If only he would really, truly love you, consciously and deliberately so you would never have to reassure your insecure thoughts. And that was something that you hated Donghyuck for, that he never wanted to commit and instead flirted with everyone like that would make him feel any better.

It wouldn’t, and you knew that all too well.

—

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

You, as well as the others, were eagerly chanting as Donghyuck looked sceptically at the bottle. The table surface was rough, and the sound of the bottle spinning grated on his nerves, but he wanted to be a good sport.

He spun the bottle, biting his lip as he rolled his eyes back, and they landed on you. You could have sworn he winked, but you had no time to process it, not when your friends were cheering so loudly.

Shit. It had landed on you.

Donghyuck didn’t hesitate, leaning in towards you and tipping your chin up. He saw the reluctance in your eyes and stopped, resting on his heels.

“Are you okay with this? If you don't want to, we can stop it now,” he said, loud enough for your ears alone.

You gulped. “I'm… I think I'm fine.”

He grinned. “Then kiss me back, okay?”

And his lips were on yours. He tasted like cherry vodka and sprite and cinnamon all at once, and you didn’t know you had it in you to kiss him back.

When he pulled away, you missed it almost immediately.

“This isn’t any fun. Let’s play truth or dare instead,” he said abruptly, averting his eyes. Unlike when he had kissed Renjun, he didn't wipe his lips, and it took all of your self-control not to read into that.

You made yourself comfortable and reached for another glass but Jisung tapped your hand twice. “I think you’ve had quite enough.”

The thing was, you couldn't help it. If you didn’t have enough alcohol in your system, you would have the sobriety to overthink every single little thing Donghyuck did, and you needed a drink (or several) to remain sane.

Jisung gave you a long, hard look and an accompanying sigh when you brushed him off, but he remained silent when you poured yourself another glass and downed it, the clear liquid burning its way down your throat and lighting you up from within.

“Truth,” you heard Donghyuck say.

“Do you love him? Not just infatuation-wise. Do you see yourself in a relationship with him?” Mark.

“Dare.”

“Answer the question.”

“I-” The hesitation was enough for you to be interested in the conversation again. If Donghyuck had given his usual lighthearted response, you would have thought nothing of it. But for him to stop and actually seriously think about it… whoever he liked must have really made an impact on him.

You reached for the bottle again. This time, it was Jeno who stopped you. “It’s quite enough. Your cheeks are red, and you can barely keep your eyes open. I don't want you to get liver failure from one night out, or we’ll never be allowed to bring you out again.”

You pouted your lips at him, and Donghyuck spoke again. “Yes, I think I do.”

It was a pity that you had forgotten the question by then. It was also a pity that your eyes were barely open, for if they were open you would have seen Donghyuck’s fond look and how his eyes crinkled up when he looked at you.

—

When Mark turned around to get you out of the car, he found both you and Donghyuck asleep.

YOU JUST COULDN'T ESCAPE HIM. It wasn’t until you were consciously avoiding Donghyuck that you realised how often you saw him. Your dance classes never collided, but many of your lectures did. Sometimes, you would see him entering the lecture theatre and would studiously look away so he wouldn’t notice you were there. Not that it worked much, but on some days, he was a little more aware and would walk past you to sit with his other friends.

You were in the library that afternoon, headphones in, Mark and Renjun sitting opposite you. Everyone was quietly doing their own work, and whenever you looked up from your work, it was only to ask Mark a question.

Renjun was actually done with his own work, because unlike Mark, who always volunteered to take on extra tasks, he had a perfectly reasonable workload. And unlike Donghyuck, who signed up for social events even when his pre-reading was piling up, he was disciplined and knew how to prioritise. And unlike you, he actually understood everything that the professor was saying.

So, really he was only there to keep you two accountable and to make sure you didn’t get off track. He was reading a book, and you guessed that the unfamiliar characters on the cover were in Mandarin.

It was peaceful, at least until Donghyuck came.

“I brought you a ham-and-cheese muffin,” he said, setting the paper bag down as he slid into the seat beside you. “I got you boba too, but the librarian didn’t like that, so I left it in my bag outside. I had to convince her that I wouldn’t eat the muffin inside, but I’ll let you know that it’s still warm, so you can make your own decision.”

He winked at you, and your heart fluttered. Be still, my heart.

You bit into the muffin, and the flavours exploded in your mouth as you realised how long it had been since your last meal. You hadn’t had proper lunch that day, just brunch at 10, so 6 hours had passed since you last ate. You had forgotten this whilst studying, but your stomach gladly welcomed the presence of more food.

“You haven’t eaten since brunch, have you?” Donghyuck asked, as he saw you stuffing the rest of the muffin into your mouth. You shook your head guiltily, trying to catch the crumbs falling from your mouth.

“Chew slowly, don't choke. I’ve still got boba for you later, remember.”

And your heart warmed despite your vow not to let Donghyuck charm his way into your heart anymore. “Thanks,” you mumbled, voice muffled by the food in your mouth. You swallowed it quickly, but by then he had already turned away from you.

—

“Wait, don't you have a class in five minutes?”

It took you a couple of seconds to process that Mark was talking to you. You looked down at your watch and found that he was indeed correct. “Shit, yeah. Hyuck, isn’t that the class we both take?”

Donghyuck’s neck jerked up so quickly you feared he might break it. “You're right! We’ve gotta run for it. See you later, Mark, Renjun.”

He was out of his chair before you could say anything else, pulling you away as you ran outside. Donghyuck slung his bag over his shoulder, and you ran out into the cold with Donghyuck by your side. It was freezing cold and your lips turned numb almost immediately. The snow was heavier than you had realised, and you sorely missed the comfort of the heated library.

You were huddled closely to Donghyuck, pressed up against him as your legs moved in tandem, generating heat that you were grateful for.

“Wait,” you said, grabbing Donghyuck’s hand to stop him just before you entered the building. “Look!”

Like a child, you stuck out your tongue and waited for a snowflake to fall onto your tongue, shivering slightly when it did and melted almost immediately. You looked at Donghyuck, embarrassment warring with the need for attention, and were met with Donghyuck’s chuckle.

“Cute.”

It was one word, but it felt full of fraught emotions and possibilities.

—

You sighed in relief, collapsing in a tired heap on the chair, your cheeks and the tips of your ears still red from the cold atmosphere outside. Donghyuck noticed, of course. He reached out and cupped your ear in his hands, his palms radiating heat that made your ears feel less like frozen popsicles and more like a part of your body again.

“If I kissed you, your cheeks would definitely warm up too,” he said suddenly. You would have protested, but you weren’t fast enough to prevent him from placing a kiss on your cheek, which immediately warmed up in embarrassment.

“See! It worked.” You didn’t admit it aloud, but you agreed.

Donghyuck’s kiss was a reminder of what you had been thinking when you first arrived in Seoul. You had thought then that Seoul was nowhere as romantic as London, because you couldn't share an umbrella with your love interest in the rain and get soaked together.

But when you looked down at your coat, slightly wet with melted snow, and pressed a hand to your cheek where Donghyuck had kissed it, you realised that maybe Seoul was more romantic than you had given it credit for being. You had been too quick to judge and were lucky that you hadn’t said it aloud, or you would be eating your words.

—

You were starting to get bored and your fingers hurt from typing. At least you understood most of what was happening, but you were still starting to tire of the professor’s voice. The next time you would be doing anything interesting was in a month, and you didn’t understand how you were expected to pay attention until then.

You were really only paying attention so that you didn’t fail when you had to write your thesis next week, but even you needed a break.

Donghyuck must have read your mind because he pushed a reusable covered cup over to your table, pointing at the attached note. Through the clear container you could see the boba at the bottom, brown sugar coating the sides. You poked the straw through the hole in the cap and gratefully drank it, happy for the explosive taste of sugar in your mouth that distracted you from the boredom of the class.

A note fluttered onto your table and you picked it up in curiosity. “are you a prince (왕자; wangja)? because i want ya.”

That was when your heart stopped. Donghyuck didn’t speak English well, and you knew that. You had spent enough time with him to see how he struggled to understand you when you spoke with an English accent instead of a Korean one. Yet, he had written you a pickup line in Konglish.

What does that mean? He had to have asked Mark about it. He must have premeditated it because there was no way he had spontaneously come up with that while waiting in line for your drink.

What does that mean? The mixed signals he was sending you were about to drive you crazy. You were overthinking every detail of it, and you hated it. Why had he put in the effort to write something you were familiar with? A line you would understand and be able to laugh at? Was he hinting at something more, or did he just do that to everyone?

What does that mean? The question was running laps in your mind, as it had been since Donghyuck had kissed you at the bar. You had both been flat-out drunk, so you wouldn’t have been surprised, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

Maybe that was the problem; the lack of communication. It was hindering the relationship from progressing and causing your heart extreme emotional pain. Perhaps it was time for you to do something about it.

DONGHYUCK WAS THE WORST TEASE YOU KNEW. He exited the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, hair still dripping wet as he ran a hand absently through it, wiping his hand on the towel.

Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure you would need someone to call an ambulance if you didn’t stop hyperventilating.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) for you, Donghyuck seemed to notice.

He walked up to you in one fluid motion, wrapping one arm around your waist as his other hand tipped your chin up. His cockiness was getting to you, and you simply couldn’t stand him anymore. You threaded your fingers through his hair, bringing his face closer to you as you kissed him.

The hand around your waist slackened in shock, and his eyes were still wide with surprise at your boldness. But you didn’t care, and when you didn’t pull away, he gladly closed his eyes and deepened the kiss.

Your clothes were wet, and so was the floor, but you couldn’t care less because you were kissing the Lee Donghyuck, prettiest boy in the universe. The one who spent a week trying to get your beverage order right and clung tightly to you when he was drunk, the one who took every opportunity to flirt with you but softened when you were scared or tired.

He called you a prince just to rile you up and pecked your cheek when you were within range, and you loved him more than just a little bit.

“You like me?” Donghyuck asked in disbelief when you pulled away.

You traced your hand over his jaw and pressed your forehead to his. “I hate pineapple on pizza, but I’d eat Hawaiian pizza if you asked me to because you’re Donghyuck, and I’d do anything for you. I would eat your olives if you gave them to me, always. I don’t know how you haven’t noticed yet, but yes, I like you, Lee Donghyuck.”

He was rendered speechless, which were two words you would never have thought would be used to describe Donghyuck. The chatty boy had fallen silent, and you found that you missed the sound of his voice.

“I like you too, L/n Y/n. I would run with you in the snow if it meant five more minutes with you. Even if my fingertips were freezing off, I would watch you catch snowflakes on your tongue and wish you loved me back. I would kiss you while drunk a million times if it meant there was the smallest of chances that you would love me back.”

The sound of the door opening didn’t stop you, but it did stop Renjun. He hovered in the corridor as he looked between you and a towel-clad Donghyuck, debating whether to tell him to stop dripping all over the floor or leave you two alone. After a few seconds, he decided to take refuge in Jaemin’s room, leaving you two to your own devices.

Donghyuck would have stayed and held you in his arms forever if you hadn’t tapped his shoulder and asked him to get changed.

“Why feign decency at this point?” He had quipped, and you had grabbed hold of his shoulders, turning him around to face the bathroom and shoving him towards it. He had stumbled, catching himself just in time to flip you off, and you settled on the floor, laughing as he disappeared into the bathroom.

—

When he reappeared, he was so eager to see you again that he slammed into you, causing you to topple onto the bed, Donghyuck’s hands on either side of your head being the only thing preventing him from falling onto you,

You booped him on the nose and burst out into laughter at his confused face. Your laughter rang true and clear in the room, and if Donghyuck had a photographic memory, he would have replayed it in his head a million times. His eyes were filled with delight and love as he watched you slowly lowering himself next to you while you rolled over to face him.

His hand traced lazy circles down your arms, from your biceps down to your elbows, where he began drawing hearts around the scattered scars that covered your elbows.

“Tell me all about your scars.”

You had gotten that one from falling down as a kid, eager legs slipping out from under you when you forgot that you had rollerblades on, landing on your elbows and knees. Sure, you had worn elbow guards, but they had been too loose for you back then, the hand-me-downs slipping downwards as your elbows scraped against the pavement.

You remembered staring at your arms in wonder, the scraped skin stinging but not hurting enough for you to cry. You had winced at the dirt and blood covering the wound, dusting yourself off as you stood up. You had cried when your mother cleaned the wound with saline, wincing sharply and then jerking your arms away while she held tight, cleansing the wound, until you realised she was only trying to help you.

Perhaps that was what love was like. Sometimes, you didn’t realise it was for your benefit until someone else guided you to it, and you ignored what was staring right at you until it waved its hand.

Donghyuck listened. He didn’t speak, and the silence was oddly inviting. The words spilled out of your mouth like a torrent, not a second of hesitation keeping you from being vulnerable with him.

It was the same for Donghyuck.

You heard of the times he felt overshadowed and overlooked, when his older brother knew how to do everything and his younger sister followed in his footsteps. He constantly compared himself to them and others around him, never feeling like he was enough.

You heard of the times with Mark, his first friend, who used to hate him. Donghyuck had reached out multiple times to Mark, and each time he was met with coldness and annoyance. He had only ever heard Mark give monosyllabic responses and had been surprised when he had first heard Mark say a full sentence.

Yet, Donghyuck could grow on anyone. And soon, they graduated high school together, headed to the same university where they would pursue their interests while their friendship only grew stronger.

You heard about Donghyuck’s experience at parties, waking up in somebody else’s bed, hammered with a pounding headache and utterly lost. He told you how he had sorely regretted all the drinks, hurriedly getting out of bed to get as far away from the memories as possible.

Once, he was almost taken advantage of. He had woken up in a bed with a girl by his side, ill-clad with her gangly limbs all over his body. He should have at least known her name, but he didn’t even recognise her face. When he tried to peel her off of him and get dressed, she forced herself on him, and it had taken all of his drunken strength to get away.

He didn’t need to be drunk to tell you stories, because he could consciously decide to be open with you, even while sober. You didn’t either, but you were glad that you no longer needed alcohol to stop you from falling head over heels for Lee Donghyuck.

After all, he was there to stay.

RENJUN'S HUSHED WHISPERS SOUNDED URGENT even to you, causing you to open your eyes even when you wanted to seal them shut and fall back asleep.

“Good morning,” you cooed, placing kisses on each of Donghyuck’s moles. He blinked his eyes open sleepily and stared at you through half-closed eyelids before shutting them again and snuggling in closer to you.

“It’s too fucking early to be awake, go back to sleep.” Donghyuck said as he slid his cold fingers under your shirt, wrapping them around your torso as he hummed to himself. “You’re so warm…”

You shivered at his touch, jerking back in shock. Donghyuck whined softly and continued nuzzling his head against you, and you relented, moving in closer towards him while he smiled against your neck.

You caught snippets of Renjun’s conversation with Mark, hearing words like “half-naked”, “still dripping”, and “couldn’t even come in to sleep”. It didn’t take a genius to guess that they were talking about you, and the unabashed excitement on Mark’s face confirmed it for you.

You pried Donghyuck’s fingers from your skin, pushing his head away while he murmured in protest, flinging the covers off of you.

“Argh!”

“Sorry, Hyuckie.” You quickly grabbed the blanket and tucked Donghyuck back in, and he frowned at the absence of your heat, turning away from you sulkily and curling up into a ball. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair out of his face, gravitating towards Renjun’s conversation as it got clearer and easier to understand.

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, and Renjun almost leapt from his chair in shock. His mouth was comically open, and his eyes were wide in surprise.

“When did you wake up?”

“Just,” you assured him, taking your seat and resting your head in your hands. “So, what about me?”

“We made a bet,” Mark said, a little too quick to throw Renjun under the bus. “We wanted to guess who would make the first move. I said Donghyuck would because of his personality, but Renjun said he was too much of a coward to really do anything about it.”

“Technically, you’re both right. Hyuck did make the first move, but I kissed him first, so I think I deserve some of that credit too.”

Renjun’s head bobbed up and down so quickly you were afraid his neck might break off. “Y/n’s right. Since he kissed Donghyuck first, you owe me. 10,000 won, remember?”

Mark’s mouth opened and closed as he stared at you, flabbergasted, before he finally gave up on trying to form words and reached into his pocket instead.

As Renjun counted the money, Mark fixed you with a hard stare. “If I’m broke, you’re paying for the next meal.”

“Deal."

—

Donghyuck left the house wrapped up in thoughts of your mouth on his. He couldn’t believe that someone like you would like someone like him. It had, quite literally, never occurred to him that you might like him back.

From the first time he had set eyes on you that winter evening, seeing you next to Jaemin and the resemblance in both of your eyes and hearing your English-accented voice for the first time, he had loved you more than he should have.

He grew to like all of you, the parts of you that drank Nesquik (like a little kid) when you were tired, that craved boba but held back from buying it because it was “unhealthy”, the parts of you that hated pineapple on pizza and thought he was an idiot. He loved when you were scared of the most trivial things, only to do risky shit when you thought no one was looking.

Most importantly, he loved the way you smiled with all your heart, your mouth open wide and your lips stretched wider than he thought was physically possible. Joy was written in the crease of your smile and the folds of your skin, and he loved every part of you.

He loved you so much, in fact, that when he reached into his pocket to send you a text to tell you he missed you, he realised that he had forgotten his phone amidst the residual shock he had woken up in that morning.

When he heard his name, he whirled around at the familiar voice and saw his saviour running toward him with a Tupperware in one hand and his phone in the other, hair sticking up in all different directions, still wearing pyjama pants.

“Y/n,” he breathed out. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

You ran your hand through your hair in response, shoving his phone into his hand.

“I… saw that Mark had cut some fruits for Chenle, and I know that you’re bad at taking care of yourself so… I brought it for you. Don’t worry, I’ll cut more for Chenle later, he’ll just have to deal with not having them in his favourite container.” The words came out all in a rush, between pants and wheezes. Running clearly wasn’t your speciality.

“I wasn’t worried,” Donghyuck said. “And thank you.”

“Someone’s got to love you right, even if that means reminding you that your body requires nutrients to survive,” you muttered, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Is that so?” You nodded sagely, and he laughed, and somewhere in your mind, you managed to conjure up the word pretty.

DONGHYUCK WAS SO COCKY. You had always known it, but seeing him leaning languidly against the opening to the small photo booth, curly hair falling into his eyes, peering through his lashes as he watched your every movement, you were reminded of it.

Each of the eight of you were clutching your graduation hats, Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun and Jisung hovering outside the photo booth while they waited for you to browse through the frames.

Everyone was dressed in their graduation gowns, having rushed to take a picture at the nearby mall the second you had all received your diplomas. Chenle had insisted that four-cut photos were a tradition, and you didn’t want to miss out on the chance to take more photos.

After taking the goofiest photos ever (Jaemin had had lots of fun posing, and you had a bruise on your hip from falling into the “door” frame), the gang decided to let you and Chenle pick a frame and print it out.

“Quickly,” Jaemin’s voice called. “Y/n, what exactly are you doing? It doesn’t take that long to click an option!”

Mark left you and Chenle to choose, going outside the photo booth to pacify Jaemin.

Finally, you and Chenle managed to agree on an option that both of you liked, and the machine began whirring as it spat out the eight copies. You snatched them from Chenle, whistling as you exited the photo booth, waving the photos triumphantly at the rest.

“Done!”

All of a sudden, Donghyuck started cooing, “Aww, you want to kiss me so bad.” Before you knew what he was talking about, he tiptoed to reach your lips and gave you a quick peck.

“What?” The realisation dawned on you a moment later, remembering how you had puckered your lips while whistling. Donghyuck, ever the opportunist, had obviously taken the chance to kiss you again. “Hyuck, you kissed me. I don’t think I’m the desperate one here.”

Donghyuck would have responded if Renjun and Chenle’s hands hadn’t appeared out of nowhere, shoving you into the photo booth. The last thing you saw before they drew the curtains shut was Jaemin with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking at you.

“Guess we’re stuck together, then.” Donghyuck didn’t seem thrown off in the least, quietly clicking through the options before he settled on one. The timer beeped, and you followed Donghyuck’s lead to make a heart.

You posed a total of three times before Donghyuck ran out of ideas, and he stared at you as the countdown grew louder. Three, two, one…

“Kiss me back, Hyuckie,” you murmured as you tilted Donghyuck’s chin up to meet yours. The light flashed, and you reluctantly pulled away to check the results. The pictures turned out adorable, and you slipped it into your wallet and grinned at Donghyuck.

“You stole my line!”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Well, you were wrong about the perilla debate, so I think it evens out.”

“What do you mean? We’re together now, aren’t we? Therefore, it must have been because I separated the perilla leaves for you that one time, which makes my stand the correct one.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway because neither of us were in a relationship at the time,” you reminded him. Renjun and Jeno heard only the tail-end of your conversation as you exited the confined space, and they sighed tiredly.

Seeing their reactions, you couldn’t help but laugh. You loved Lee Donghyuck so fucking much.

- fin -

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