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dojunie · 2 years

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ITWD [CH4]; New Bloom

[★]; TWO BOYS. TWO UNIVERSITIES. TWO RIVALING TEAMS. And then there’s you, stuck weightlessly in the middle of it. The time left on the clock is running out— and soon, you’re going to have to pick a side.

[itwd masterlist] [previous part] [next part]

sneak peek; “Seriously, Y/N, there’s not at least one guy? I mean, I totally understand writing off all of those sweaty weirdos—” Guyeon gestures towards the locker room doors, which you assume means she’s referring to Jaemin and the rest of the basketball team, and the mildly disgusted look on her face makes you laugh. “—But I stalked the photos on the GDSC Timberwolves roster last night after we called and there is not a chance you don’t think any of those dudes aren’t stupidly attractive.” “Okay, first of all, creepy,” you respond, grimacing, “And second of all, I never said they weren’t attractive. Just… y’know. I’m not ‘wired for romance’ like you are, Gu— they just look like dudes to me.”

wc; 8.2k

warnings; none!

a/n: so... its been a minute 👀... as compensation for waiting 100 years for the next installment, uh... have 8 thousand words of pre-yonsei x gdsc build up with absolutely no immediate pay-off :-D

taglist; @aedreamzy @grassbutneo @sweetlyocs @bffbangtan @huskyhunny @luvenshitiiti

IT'S ONLY BEEN A WEEK SINCE SCHOOL STARTED; a week since you’d been fully enveloped into the red and black world of the Gamdogja Timberwolves, and in that time Your easy friendship with the DDeumi’s crew has solidified into something surprisingly familiar in the short five days you’ve known one another.

(Practice every day will do that, you suppose, but even if you excluded the hours you were mandatorily tied together—the amount of time you spent with them this past week would still be slightly concerning.) Donghyuck had a way of making you feel like you’d known them for years instead of days, Jisung and Renjun insisted on tugging you along to every hangout and every random outing, and watching them all bicker and make up and crack jokes has quickly become one of your favorite activities. (And that's without even mentioning how addicting the little night time routine you’d fallen into with Lee Jeno was becoming.)

In the grand scheme of things your future at GDSC was looking brighter than it did over the summer, and that's all you could really ask for.

But enough about them. You'd spent every waking hour with the boys over at GD and now you were reminiscing about them too? Oh, the tantrum Chenle would throw if he knew you were focusing on any other team on a day like this; smiling to yourself over some other dudes on arguably the most anticipated night of the YSU’s basketball season until preliminaries.

You pull into the familiar parking lot and blue and white is everywhere the eye can see, Yonsei banners, crested insignias, sky-colored jerseys and t-shirts and school-pride merch, the baby blue you’d grown so fond of over the years.

There are students peppered throughout every grassy inch of the university's main quad, also dressed pretty much head to toe in YSU colors. Most are just hanging with their friends and milling about as students do in the hours before the stadium opens for seating, some are playing little games of soccer and badminton to pass the time, loud laughs carrying in the cool air. You even recognize a few of them when you get out of your car but you don’t stop to talk.

As a matter of fact, you avoid the faces you do know like the plague.

Why are you suddenly acting like a B-Rate Bond spy, sneaking across the pavement and pulling your hood tight around your face in some attempt at obscurity?

The short reason is that tonight you’re going to surprise your best friend.

(And the long reason is that last night you’d had an… idea. A plan, if you will— a prank, if you wanted to get technical with it. The premise had come from a few hours of exhaustion scrolling after practice with the Wolves last night. You were too amped up about the weekend to sleep but still too tired from running after the team (ie; Donghyuck and Yeonjun) to do anything but glue your eyes to your phone screen and aimlessly scroll in bed. But then you saw it.

‘Surprising My Boyfriend On His Birthday! Spoiler: He Totally Cries!’

What a title, right? And it was the first post on the screen. The video itself wasn’t anything revolutionary in the world of birthday pranks as all the girl had done was ignore him all day after canceling their date and then show up in his apartment with all his friends that night, but it was the idea of a surprise that intrigued you, not the specificities.

Especially not the specificities. Because there were actually quite a few differences. Like the fact that Jaemin was your best friend, not your boyfriend. And you weren’t going to sneak into his apartment and pop out of a giant gift box— your original thought was to hide behind a door or something and just leap out at him like some sort of spectre. Maybe you’d make a sign. You weren’t quite sure. What you were sure of was that he’d probably quicker laugh in your face than scream out of fear, but whatever. The vibe was there. And that was all you needed for the wheels to start turning.)

You’d told Chenle of the plan early this morning and handed the reins to him once he bullied you into insisted he help ‘set things up’.

He texted you three context-less instructions thirty minutes later: make up a lie to shill to Jaemin about why you wouldn’t be able to make it to tonight's game, get to YSU half an hour before toss up, and to not let anyone see you when you got here.

Now half a day later here you were. Waddling into the campus athletic building like some sort of baby blue criminal.

[You, 6:37PM] im here!!!!! where u at [You, 6:37PM] eagle 1 is in the nest… or whatever you said this morning :3 [CHENLELE, 6:39PM] Eagle 1 is nesting is what I said [CHENLELE, 6:39PM] Oh wait you’re Here here [CHENLELE, 6:39PM] Go to the practice gym [CHENLELE, 6:39PM] If you still remember where it is [You, 6:39PM] Har Har

Convenient. You’re already outside of the practice gym, having wandered towards the basketball wing subconsciously as you awaited Chenle’s reply, and don’t bother pulling out your phone again when you feel a few more notifications.

Whatever he just sent he could relay you in a few moments when you meet up with him, right?

Or… maybe not. Because when you push through the gym's double doors expecting maybe two or three people, Chenle obviously among them as he’d been the only one you told— you apparently walk into an athletic conference instead.

“Y/N?” you manage to hear. But which one of the thousands of people in here is calling you, you’re not sure. “Y/N!”

You slow to a complete stop as all activity ceases, obviously startled. Maybe you’re exaggerating a little; it’s not thousands. It’s not even a dozen. But there’s much more activity than you’re expecting, Dejun and Guangheng, Seonghwa and Jungwoo, others scattered about in the middle of their own little tasks— all members of the team, you realize, already in their uniforms.

Even as they all rush you, you’re not quite sure what the hell is going on.

“Noona!” someone in the pile-up wails.

That has to be Jongin; he’s the only one young enough to call you that besides Chenle and the last time Chenle used an honorific with you was the day you met him.

Hands pat your head and ruffle your hair, arms wrap around you in spine-crushing like vices, and when Jungwoo finally gets his hands on you he thrashes you around like a puppy with a brand chew toy. “Little Ace!” he coos. “How long has it been? Months? Years? You haven’t misplaced us while fraternizing with those awful GD boys, right?”

He abruptly sets you down and in the same breath squishes your cheeks between his palms, frowning and glancing between you and his grinning teammates. “What do you guys think? You think she forgot us? Doesn’t she look kind of… frazzled?”

“I look frazzled because you all just jumped me,” you attempt, “And as vice captain, aren’t you supposed to be unbiased? They’re not awful. What are you all even doing here?”

(“I reserve my right to judge,” Jungwoo says petulantly.)

“Chenle asked us to help you with your thing,” Sunwoo answers.

“Help me with what thing? All of you? What help could I possibly need with just popping out from behind a door and scaring the shit out of him?”

A few of them look at each other. Jungwoo grins. Sunwoo has the decency to look at least a little apologetic, though you have a sinking feeling whatever he’s about to explain to you is definitely Chenle’s doing.

You sigh. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Getting the cake from the staff fridge upstairs.”

“The cake?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo sighs. “Seems like there’s a lot we need to catch you up on. I’ll fill you in while we finish glittering the poster boards, but… Actually, you wouldn’t happen to be any good with a hot glue gun, would you?”

Up until the actual ‘surprise’ part, things are going pretty well.

By the time Chenle returns, there’s no time to ask him the details of the fifty-part plan he’s trying to pull off. He comes into the gym practically running, heaving something about Mark and Jaemin leaving early, that they’re three minutes out— which sparked chaos among the rest of the team— and in the ensuing shuffle of poster boards and party poppers, you lost him.

You’d ended up in the moth-ball smelling equipment closet somehow. Shoved in by somebody, you barely remember who. Through the gap in the door you lamented your life’s choices and watched as the team scattered and attempted to hide, some rolling under bleachers, some behind ball carts, (and you think you saw Jongin jump into a rolled up gymnastics stunt mat) before the gym descended into the type of charged silence only loud-people-trying-to-be-quiet could incur.

And seemingly not a second too soon. Because the sound of the double doors on the other side of the room swinging open is next; and you cut your commiserating short.

“I’dunno, J, Coach Hyo said she wanted to talk to you in here.”

Mark? Mark!

“I don’t know what about. She’s in the office, I think. You want me to wait for you?”

“Nah,” Jaemin replies. It’s quiet, muffled from all the distance, but at the sound of his voice live in stereo you still grow a little giddy. You must have missed him more than you thought… your heart is thudding. “With my luck today I’m about to get scolded or something, so I’m sure it’ll be quick. If you want to do me a favor you can find me the other half of our team, yeah?”

“They’re at the sauna. You didn’t see the group chat? Chen posted about it like half an hour ago.”

“...Ah.”

Mark laughs at this, but you don’t know why. “Your phone has been glued to your hand for the last week and you’re choosing today to ignore your messages? …You know, you’ve been in a bad mood all day too. It wouldn’t happen to be because of—”

“Like I’m not already aware,” Jaemin interrupts, sighing. “So are you gonna go and get them or what? Call time isn’t getting any father—”

The lights shut off.

You don’t know if Mark is in on it or not but you can only assume from the way he doesn’t respond to Jaemin’s immediate, ‘What the hell— Mark?’ that he must be as complacent as Chenle and the others.

A few seconds pass. There’s shuffling, the obvious sounds of people moving about in the darkness, and, “Mark, please tell me you’ve just grown fifty legs and that's you running around in here,” before the lights flip back on and the sounds of the entire team’s shouts instantly fill the gymnasium.

Typical Jaemin— still joking even in the face of what you would have probably thought was a scene from Freddy Krueger— but there’s no time to snicker at his predictability. That’s your cue.

“Not quite!” you hear someone shout. “Happy birthday, Little J!”

More cheers. There’s a beat of silence and then he laughs, disbelief thick in his voice when he reads aloud a second later, stunned, from the glitter-splattered cardboard each boy is proudly holding to their chests. “...Nana… rocks?”

Then, “This is what you boneheads have been doing for the last half hour? Planning this?”

“Of course not,” Jungwoo sing-songs. “We don’t like you enough for that.”

You wish you could see his face, but from the other side of the gym you’ll just have to settle with seeing his blue backside; hoodie pulled up over his head, little twig legs sticking out of his basketball shorts.

“Yeah, right— No way you came up with this yourselves. Who then? Chen put you up to this?”

Nope! Right behind you, Jaem.

You pick up the speed once again in fear he’ll turn on a whim, face about to split from your smile, and you’re almost there. You can see the finish line. The fraying threads on the hem of his lucky sweatshirt.

All there’s left is to leap and shout, something cheesy and cute and very very loud in an attempt to startle him and complete this overcomplicated plan, then everyone will laugh and cheer and you’ll go beat some Dulim University ass.

(…But of course it doesn’t go that smoothly.)

Your phone rings. Half a blip. Just that. A misdial maybe because it ends as soon as it’s started, but your stupid ringtones are about as recognizable as you are and Jaemin flinches and whips around like a bomb had gone off instead. Fuck.

In the millisecond you have to make a choice, you decide that you’re going to jump on him anyway. You're already right there. Too much has gone into this. And there's no way you’re going to let some damn spam call ruin what you’ve been waiting all week for—

But the force Jaemin spins around with has his hood flying off of his head,

—And, suddenly, going so fast is the worst idea you’ve ever had. The smile slips off your face and you lose the rhythm, the image of an angel suddenly burned into your retinas as you stumble and flail: only it’s not an angel. It’s not an incredibly beautiful disciple beckoning you into heaven with a growing grin that could rival the sun in terms of pure radiance.

It’s… Jaemin.

And the person you’re hurling towards continues to be Jaemin as you smash your face into his stomach at possibly a hundred miles an hour and the two of you crash into the court like a couple of car-accident test dummies.

He doesn’t stop being any less blonde as you come to your senses a moment later. His groaning laughter is physically felt through the hands you’ve got on his chest to leverage yourself out of the pile-up— but the embarrassing position you’re in right now doesn’t even track.

“Way to go, Humpty Dumpty.”

You look up. Chenle is staring at you with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face when you finally tear your eyes from Jaemin’s scalp, arms folded and phone— that you now remember he’s recording with— still trained on you. “Show him how much you love him by knocking his brain loose. I totally get it.”

As a matter of fact all the guys are watching you with various looks of amusement: Jungwoo and Guangheng cackling loudly and openly at your misfortune, Shotoro trying to hide his laugh behind a closed fist, the others just smiling and looking at one another as you clear your throat and scramble off of your temporary cushion like a bullet out of a gun.

“That last part was not supposed to happen.”

“I figured,” Jaemin says breathlessly.

Despite the haphazard entrance he’s still smiling ear to ear when you hoist him to his feet, a little dazed like he’s still not sure if you’re really here.

You get a good look at him again as the rest of the team fills in around you and damn. Damn. The last time you’d seen his eyebrows this clearly had to be from back in middle school when his mom got a little too trigger happy with the scissors the night before picture day. Now they’re here in high definition, all golden brown and perfect to match the new pale blonde, arched as he shakes his head in disbelief at the sight of you.

Good lord. Has he always looked like this?

“Ah, I should’ve known better,” he whines. “Seriously— you? Putting schoolwork over me? On my birthday? The earth would quicker fall into the sun.”

“Way to make me sound like a slacker,” you laugh, but it comes out a little dry. "But, yeah, um. Yeah. You… What’s up with the, uh…?”

He lets you go. He looks confused for quite a few seconds, obviously trying to figure out what you’re so tongue-tied about as he stares down at you— and has he always been this tall, too?— before he follows your gaze up to the white strands drifting over his eyes and it clicks.

“Oh. This?” He runs a hand through it absentmindedly and God, it doesn’t even look damaged. “You know Vivian, right?”

“Ningning,” Chenle supplies from somewhere beside you. You don’t actually know anyone named Vivian or ‘Ningning’, but you’re so preoccupied with Chenle’s sudden involvement that you don’t think to question it. The phone is gone now but he’s still watching your conversation with apt interest, arms folded casually like he’s not just standing there staring at the both of you.

You give him a questioning look and the boy only winks.

“Yeah,” Jaemin confirms. “Ningning. We have the same Econ class this semester and a few days ago she said she was ‘searching for heads’ to do some cosmetology projects on. Like styling and cutting and stuff. And you’re always getting on me about cutting my hair, so…”

He shrugs casually, like he’d only let Vivian borrow a few class notes.

“So you just let this person have a field day on your head?”

“Yep! And I’m not bald, so I think she did a pretty good job.”

Understatement of the century. Vivian did better than a good job; the girl performed magic. With the power of a good pair of scissors and 40 volume developer, she’d managed to turn Jaemin into someone you didn’t immediately recognize. Like… you thought you’d seen an angel. An ethereal being. Not your best friend, but some handsome (and apparently stumble-worthy) guy inhabiting his body.

And the more you think about it the more the feeling confuses you, but before you can fully dive into why that is, someone clears their throat very loudly from the outskirts of the group— and all of you turn to an awkward looking Mark Lee.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, “I don’t mean to interrupt the festivities, but, uh… Call time is seven minutes out, Jaem.”

Oh. Right. Right. And just like that, the atmosphere shifts. The first game of the season. That's what you're here for, isn't it. Temporary captain duties on Jaemin’s end, no less; with the reminder he, along with a few others, suddenly look a little ill.

An entire school’s worth of Yonsei students are probably streaming into the other gym right as you all stand around here and chatter about hair dye.

“Right,” Jaemin exhales slowly.

“Come on, what’s with all the long faces?” you gripe. There’s a few smiles at your blase tone. “You’re not nervous, right? You guys? Seoul’s reigning Central Conference Champions?”

They pretty much all see through your intentions to loosen them up a little bit. Coach habits die hard, you guess. “You’re going to go out there and show me what I drove all the way back here for, right?”

There’s a few cheers. Mostly nods and smiles. But from the back, after the world's longest, fakest cough, Jungwoo doesn’t miss his chance. “Jaemin is already right in front of you,” he stage-whispers.

…You should have seen that coming.

Still, you can’t be upset that everyone is now laughing too hard to focus on being anxious. Jaemin is smiling too, proudly, smugly, like he has no qualms with their joke at all, because of course he doesn’t— so you let Jungwoo’s joke go. Mostly.

“Yeah, laugh it up, Kim. Because God knows if I came to see you make a basket, I’d be here ‘till graduation.”

Jungwoo only puts a hand over his heart, feigning the recoil of an arrow to the chest, before the ever-punctual Mark starts to herd him and then all the others out of the practice gym.

You missed this. With the series of hair ruffles and hugs you receive as they leave, you can only assume they missed you too.

Once the cat is out of the proverbial bag about your arrival, not a second goes by before the game starts that you’re not hugging, waving, or catching up with people you haven’t seen all summer. After your welcome tour (which you say lovingly, but the sheer amount of people who try to flag you down is still astounding; like you’ve been gone for a few weeks, not a hundred years, but you’re not complaining), you finally manage to make it to courtside with a few of your old teammates.

The cheerleaders are doing something fun on the court, the stands are filling up, the atmosphere is electric and Twice’s ‘Ooh-Ah’ is practically deafening; your friend Guyeon has to shout at you to be heard over the music.

“You can’t seriously tell me that out of all those GDSC boys you’re surrounded by, that you’re not interested in any of them. You’re aware that lying is a sin, right?”

“I usually don’t condone her pestering,” your other friend Jihara adds, nudging you with one of her jersey clad shoulders, “But even I have to admit that Cupid has a point this time. That Instagram story you posted yesterday with the brown haired guy; that kid was holding onto you like he’s known you since birth. Even I know that's suspicious.”

This topic again. This topic again. It only took Guyeon ten seconds after you sat down to start the interrogation this time— her new personal record.

If only you could ‘forget’ to respond, like you’ve been doing for the past week every time they tried to interrogate you about the Timberwolves through text.

“Donghyuck is just like that,” you say defensively. “The first day we met he tried to bench press me inside of a BBQ restaurant to prove a point. It seriously doesn’t mean anything. Shouldn’t we be paying attention to the game?”

“The game doesn’t start for at least another five minutes if the cheerleaders are still on court. I know that. You know that.”

Damn. “It was worth a try.”

“Seriously, Y/N, there’s not at least one? I mean, I totally understand writing off all of those sweaty weirdos—” Guyeon gestures towards the locker room doors, which you assume means she’s referring to the men's basketball team, and the mildly disgusted look on her face makes you laugh. “—But I stalked the photos on the GDSC Timberwolves roster last night after we called and there is not a chance you don’t think any of those dudes aren’t stupidly attractive.”

“First of all, creepy,” you respond, grimacing, “And second of all, I never said they weren’t attractive. Just… y’know. I’m not ‘wired for romance’ like you are, Gu— they just look like dudes to me.”

Guyeon opens her mouth quickly, presumably to talk at you some more about repressed feelings and ‘healthy sexual urges’, but a rising chatter from the other Yonsei students filling the stands behind you catches all of your attention. When you look up you realize the cheerleaders are leaving, doing that cute little jog-skip-run thing they do and waving at everyone before they disappear into the home tunnel. The stadium lights fully brighten once they’ve all left and the energy of the stands grows tenfold— the game is about to start.

“This conversation is not over,” Guyeon says quickly.

An echoing shout bursts from the direction of the home team tunnel and you forgo responding to Gu’s threat just in time to see Jaemin’s jog out of the entrance, to the cheers of what sounds like everyone in a five mile radius. The rest of the team is right behind him as well, whooping and jumping and passing their hands along the students close enough to the tunnel to high-five like the excitable, powered up athletes they are— but you have a feeling it wasn’t any of them that the freshman girls behind you just gasped about.

The team finish their introduction and crowd around their bench, which just so happens to be in front of you, Jiara and Guyeon.

‘Oh my God, Chaer, do you see that one,’ one of them whispers. ‘Ow! What? Who? Number 13? Jesus, Okay, I see him! Stop hitting me!’

If you didn’t know any better you’d think that Jaemin heard them, because right as it leaves the girls mouth he perks up like he’s just remembered something.

You watch as his eyes flit around the student section, water bottle forgotten halfway to his mouth, and for a moment you’re seriously thinking he somehow grew superhuman hearing when you weren’t around when he looks right behind you— but then his gaze finds yours.

“Holy shit,” Guyeon whispers.

He winks, like he always does when your eyes meet.

Then he blows you a sleazy kiss when you pretend to gag. When he finally gets a laugh out of you he grins like he’s won the lottery, a wild and unruly thing that stretches across his face in the teasing way it does whenever he’s trying to piss you off and knows he’s succeeding. It absolutely isn’t anything new… but something about it makes your insides squirm this time.

Suddenly feeling off, you can only think to wave; then the whistle is blown for the starters to make their way to half court and he’s gone.

(“Oof,” one of the freshmen from earlier snickers behind you. “Sorry, Lia. You seriously thought a guy like that wouldn’t already be with somebody? Looks like he’s spoken for.”)

“Holy shit,” Guyeon says again, and this time you do look at her, still a little unsettled. “Are you sure you’re not a lesbian, Ace?”

“What?”

“Guyeon,” Jiara hisses.

Gu immediately puts two hands up in surrender but the glint in her eyes is anything but. You can see it written all over face; your later interrogation is going to be severe.

At the very least, Jiara’s scolding finally puts an end to the pregame chatter. The two of them like basketball as much as you do and quickly get absorbed into the game once the referee makes his appearance. They both cheer when Yonsei wins the toss up (though your voice kind of outweighs theirs when the first basket of the night just so happens to be Chenle’s easy three-pointer) and they sigh when the Dulim Rovers manage to get a free throw on a traveling technicality a few minutes later.

Yonsei games are always pretty electric but tonight is something different and by the time the Dulim calls their first time out halfway into the second quarter, you’re already hoarse from cheering.

“I’m going to go and get something from concessions before the half-time crowd hits. Any orders?”

It’s like they barely hear you. Guyeon grunts something that sounds like ‘lemonade’ and Jiara doesn’t say a word, practically glaring holes into the scoreboard as the numbers blink in red cacophony: 14-14.

Not phased by the very common occurrence of their jock brains taking full effect, you just nudge Jiara out of the way to get to the sidelines, jogging towards the exit so as to not block any other students from seeing the game. The score may not be favorable yet, yeah. But you’re not worried. If Jaemin is on the court, you don’t have to be.

You take your time once you get out of the gym.

All hot food at the concessions bar is always made in bulk in the ten minutes before halftime so you’re already aware that you’re going to be waiting for a little while as they prepare, but you didn’t mind. If anything, you enjoyed the quiet of the desolate lobby. It was a welcome change from the ever-present noise of the gym, and your night was going to be long— you might as well stock up on quiet moments now while you have the ability, right? And it’s not like you had anything else to do. So you close your eyes and let your mind wander, leaning against the booth wall.

You think about everything and anything. The art history assignment you have due on Sunday night, is one. Unwelcome of course but present regardless. You wonder how Sunghoon is doing after rolling his ankle during practice this morning and in the same vein, the pulled shoulder Dejun was posting about a few weeks ago. (You’d have to remember to tell him not to push himself too hard when you saw him again later.)

Halfway through pondering about just how many drunk people you’re going to have to babysit tonight, you hear it.

“Where did she go?”

The voice is vaguely familiar but also quite distant, so you don't rouse. They could be talking about anyone, right?

“Damn it, Hyuck! I thought we said we weren't going to—”

“There! Mini!”

This, however, is jarring enough for your eyes to shoot open.

“I told you that was her!” Donghyuck whines.

And lo and behold. Possibly the last people you’d be expecting to see in the lobby of Yonsei University; number 03 and 06 respectively, practically bouncing across the linoleum to get to you faster.

The forward reaches the concessions booth first, easily sliding under the que dividers to reach where you are, and Renjun comes chasing after him with his face already torn into an apologetic grimace.

“Donghyuck?” you say belatedly. “Why— What the hell are you two doing all the way over here?”

“We know a few guys from Dulim,” Renjun explains hastily, elbowing Donghyuck hard when he’s close enough to reach. The taller boy barely even flinches, too busy making smiling-eyes at you.

“I knew you’d be here,” Donghyuck says smugly. “Jun and the others didn’t believe me though, but I knew.”

“Hey! We never said we didn’t…” Seemingly remembering all at once that arguing with Donghyuck is always a losing battle, Renjun sighs and forgoes that train of thought altogether. He turns to you with a ‘Can you believe this guy?’ kind of look and you laugh at their antics.

“We had a feeling you’d be here but this is the first time you’re seeing your friends again in a while, right? We didn’t want you worrying about us so we said we’d leave you alone if we saw you, but this one,” Hyuck smiles sweetly even though Renjun’s tone is anything but pleasant, “Just couldn’t help himself when we saw you come out here. Sorry. I tried to use force, but he’s like an eel.”

“A cute eel,” he butts in. “The cutest eel, and it’s not like you mind, right? You love me. And I missed you. A whole lot.”

“You saw me this morning,” you respond, still a little surprised. “And you didn’t like me then because I was making you do sit-ups. How many of you are here?”

“I forgive easily,” Hyuck says amicably at the same time Renjun actually answers your question, “Just No-Jam and Ji. The Dulim guys are more Jeno’s friends than ours, but it’s not like we were doing anything else tonight.”

You guess it’s not that big of a coincidence…? It wasn’t like you were the only person who could visit other schools. They’re here for Dulim but aren’t dressed head to toe in yellow like the rest of the visiting crowd is, Hyuck in all black besides his gray bomber jacket and Renjun the complete opposite, cream hood of his hoodie pulled up over his head. You wonder how you hadn’t already noticed them in this state.

The concessions worker calls your order while you’re talking with the two, residual shock giving away quickly to amusement as they clamber on about how big Yonsei’s campus is and how ridiculous traffic was on the way, and after you collect your food they even walk you back to the gym entrance. It splits off into two doors, visitors side and home, and you slow in front of your stop.

“Bet you’re probably tired of seeing us at this point,” Renjun says, laughing, but he still sounds apologetic. “Go back with your friends. Maybe we can see you after the game?”

“You say that like we’re not also friends.” You feign a pout and try not to break when Renjun’s eyes go wide.

“Great job, stick in the mud,” Donghyuck chides.

“What? No! I just meant— We’ve kind of been dragging you around lately, I thought—”

Renjun stutters and you laugh, his frown immediately turning into a scowl when he realizes you’re just screwing with him. You’d stay out here and talk more if Guyeon’s lemonade wasn’t freezing your hand, and he had a point. It wasn't like they were going to disappear at the buzzer.

With a promise to meet them out in the lobby after the final whistle, you part ways.

Unlike when you’d left, Guyeon and Jiara’s eyes are all on you when you return. Maybe it’s because the score is much better, 15-24, and they don’t have to have their gaze as sharp on the court. Or maybe it’s because—

“Did you get lost?” Jiara asks. “Gone for a week and already forgetting the hallways, huh? We thought you’d been kidnapped.”

Yep. Or maybe it’s because they want to terrorize you further. You hand Gu her demonic drink and shake the feeling back into your fingers. “Didn’t know I was being timed.”

“Birthday Boy sank a three while you were gone,” Guyeon shrugs. “He looked over all proud before he saw that you weren’t here and then his frown was like, almost comically adorable. I think it even shifted my heart a little. Made me want to stab you for not being here to receive it.”

“Where’d he make it from? And I saw a few friends in the lobby. Got caught up.”

Jiara snatches a nacho from your tray. “A little behind half court I think, and what do you mean friends? What friends do you have besides us and those blockheads on the court? The woman at concessions doesn’t count.”

You scowl at her. Should you even tell them? Guyeon might blow a gasket if she finds out that there are Timberwolves in the building after her earlier tangent, and you’re really not sure you can survive another round of interrogation so soon after the last. Your phone vibrating in your pocket gives you at least a little reprieve in answering… but not for long.

[Hyuck, 7:32PM] we see you ;) [Hyuck, 7:32PM] middle section, third row [Hyuck, 7:32PM] jisungie is waving

Foolishly, you look up.

Park Jisung’s lanky arm swinging around (paired with the puffy cheeks full of popcorn) is pretty easy to pick out now that you know what you’re looking for. Hyuck and Renjun sit to his right and perk up when you meet their eyes, grinning and waving like you didn’t just see them thirty seconds ago, and to Jisung’s left sits Lee Jeno who simply nods when your gaze runs across his.

You’re preparing to wave back when Guyeon grabs your arm.

“No fucking way,” she hisses, and you tear your eyes from them before you can do anything but yelp. She’s looking at you like you’ve just called her a bad word. Shit. “They’re here? You brought them here?”

Gasket, blown. The only thing that saves you is a whistle blaring and when Chenle, wet and sweaty like he’s been dipped into the campus pool, comes crashing down between you and Guyeon not even a second later. You startle and look back to the court and see the rest of the Eagles coming towards the bench in similar disarray, panting and grinning and saying things that you can’t quite make out over the sudden chattering and movement of the crowd behind you.

Half time. Thank God. Guyeon’s eyes focus on Chenle and you know you’re free.

“It's too hot in here,” he says, grabbing for her lemonade, whining, “Let me have this. C’mon, please, you know I’ll pay you back!”

“I— Yeah, whatever, take it,” Guyeon says quickly. “I didn’t want it that much, anyway.”

He grins and tosses half of it back while Guyeon tries not to look like she’s staring, even though she is totally staring, and you turn back to where Donghyuck and the others are but they’re not looking at you anymore. Damn.

“If you’re thirsty you need to hydrate properly,” you tell your younger friend blithely when you spin back to them, squinting, “Sugar isn’t hydration. What if you get a cramp?”

“Then you’d massage it for me like you always do.”

“Watch it,” another voice says for you. “You get a cramp, you go to the infirmary like a big boy, yeah? And she’s right— lose the lemonade.” You don’t have to turn to know who’s just slumped down into the other half of your seat.

Guyeon, more wary of Captain-Mode Jaemin than she is heart-eyes for Chen, quietly takes her drink back. “You always say she’s right,” Chenle mutters.

“Because I am always right.”

“What is it you always say about rice?” you ask aloud, turning to the man of the hour behind you, “Bowls of rice?”

Jaemin laughs. He’s got his arms crossed over his jersey and he looks properly exhausted— sweat rolling down his temples, cheeks pink with exertion, still breathing a little ragged— but when he looks at you, he smiles like he’s not tired at all.

“You’ve eaten more bowls of rice than he has.”

“That’s the one! Exactly. Which means my word is as good as gospel. Go get your water before I pinch you.”

Chenle grumbles, but he goes. Coach Hyo calls Jaemin back to the bench not too soon after this but he makes sure to steal another nacho from you and mess up your hair before he goes. So much for proper game diet, right? Brat.

The minutes of half time tick by until the game begins again, stands refilled with viewers and their concessions raid, and it’s not too surprising to say that Yonsei cleans house.

You knew they would. They played too well, practiced too hard, and simply worked too well together to not send North Dulim scrambling for points in the second half. Jaemin’s effortless two-pointer is what signifies the end of the game, buzzer ringing in tandem with his white sneakers hitting the ground: 37-29. When you relay the score to your dad later he’s definitely going to have some things to say, ‘Not a big enough gap. What, are they slacking now that we’re not there?’ but you can’t really pretend you’re not pleased.

When the game is over you usually just wait in the stands for the rest of the crowd to clear out (because fighting with traffic to get into the lobby is a little dumb when you know you still have to wait for Jaemin and the others to shower anyway) but with Donghyuck and the others waiting outside, it seems like tonight you’re going to have to brave the masses.

But… before that. You’re going to have to deal with the bouncing ball of black-haired energy on your right. “Guyeon,” you sigh.

“What? You don’t even know what I was about to ask!”

“So the holes you’re burning into the side of my head don’t have anything to do with the fact that you want to come with me?”

Silence.

“Come where?” Jiara chimes in. “I want to go. Where are we going?”

“To meet the Timberwolves Y/N tried to sneak in here,” Guyeon whispers. She dodges when you try to jab her and Jiara’s eyes narrow when you don’t immediately shut your other friend down.

“I didn’t sneak anybody anywhere, you little conspirator!"

Your phone vibrates again.

[Hyuck, 8:05PM] we’re by the big eagle statue thing outside, by the main doors!!! come out!!! didn’t i say i missed you????!?!

“If you’re coming you better behave,” you hiss. “Seriously, I coach these guys Gu. None of your matchmaker shit.”

“You don’t coach them officially. So even if…” She shrinks immediately when you stare at her. “Fine! Fine, gosh. Lead the way.”

With your two new shadows, you maneuver through the traffic of moving Yonsei students and parents and staff, both beelining for Lucky Eagle and dragging your feet at the same time as you pass through the gym doors. (And you didn’t even think about it until now, but God, Donghyuck and Guyeon in the same group? At the same time? Maybe it’s not too late to call this off— the thought of dealing with them both at once almost gives you hives.)

You see Jisung’s head of dirty blonde peeping over the smattering of students before you can really mentally prepare and when he sees you his eyes go wide. He says something you can't quite make out to someone beside him, and then, “Mini!”

Your trio rounds upon Lucky Eagle.

“Mini… and friends?” Donghyuck corrects, raising an eyebrow, but grinning all the same.

“And friends,” you confirm, sighing. “Timberwolves, meet… Well, you’ve got tongues. Go ahead, you two.”

You can practically hear Guyeon vibrating with questions, things to say, thoughts flying through her head in the midst of these guys she admitted to cyberstalking not even an hour prior, but thankfully she heeds your earlier threat and actually acts like a normal human being.

“Kwon Guyeon,” she says with a small bow, smiling sweetly. “Third year point guard for the Yonsei Warriors. Nice to meet you!”

“Son Jiara,” Jiara nods. “Power forward I guess, if we’re doing that.”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’ve always said that knowing what position someone plays is almost better than knowing their blood type,” he says. “Donghyuck, also power forward. I’m sure you’ve already heard of me, since I’m Mini’s favorite over at—”

“Okay,” Renjun cuts in. “Anyway. Park Jisung, Lee Jeno,” he points at each respective boy as he names them, completely ignoring Donghyuck’s scandalized noise. “Huang Renjun. All starters at Gamdogja, under Y/N’s watchful eye.”

“Like you need the introduction,” Guyeon laughs. “Any basketball team in the central conference knows GDSC.”

…Okay. This is going pretty smoothly so far, you think. Good. That’s good. Seeing your old friends and your new friends interacting so easily is a little weird, but soon enough they’re talking like old-buddies without your input at all; Guyeon mentions something about Baekhyun when an EXO song comes over the speakers and Donghyuck practically leaps at her, Jisung asks when the first women’s game is being held and both him and Renjun end up wandering behind Jiara as she shows them the season schedule board on the other side of the lobby.

Somehow it’s only Jeno that’s been left converationless, looking around with his hands trenched in his pockets when you come over, lost.

“Why is it always you that gets left behind, Lee?”

“It’s a talent,” Jeno shrugs easily. “Your friends are pretty cool.”

Guyeon is too busy laughing over something on her phone with Donghyuck to feel your eyes on her back, and you only shrug. “Don’t think too much of it. I threatened them before we came out here, so they’re on their best behavior.”

“Big threat or small threat?”

“Huh?”

“Big threat, like when your eyes get big and your mouth gets really small? Or small threat like how you yelled at me this morning during FT drills?”

What? “I didn’t—”

‘Unlock those knees, 01, before I unlock them for you!’

Oh. You hesitate, and this gets him to crack a smile. “If you thought that was intimidating, you’ll cry the next time I have to tell you to stop tensing up when you shoot. Seriously, you’re going to pull something one of these days.”

“It’s been working for me this far.”

“Yeah ‘cause you don’t know any better, rookie. Staying loose is stuff they teach in, like, elementary school.”

Jeno spares you a glance, raising one dark eyebrow like he’s unsure of what he’s just heard. “Rookie?” he echoes. “Have I been playing with a different L/N Y/N? Because from what I remember it was definitely you who airballed twice a few nights ago—”

“I tripped!”

“Twice?”

Yes, twice, and you do not take kindly to being reminded of how hard Jeno laughed at the look on your face the second time you completely missed the basket. You scowl at him while he looks away, obviously attempting not to grin and set you off again, and cross your arms with a huff. There isn’t even anything you can defend with either. Both he and you know you didn’t trip. Ugh.

“You want to talk about threats? Just you wait until the next time I catch you with your knees locked, Lee. I’ll bounce a ball off the back of your head.”

“I’m not worried. You might airball that too.”

He’s only saved from your elbow by Donghyuck who chooses this time to return, flinging a heavy arm around your shoulders. “God. This is the conversation I’m coming back to? Do you guys ever talk about anything besides basketball?”

“Do you ever do anything besides talk?” Jeno barks back.

You hadn’t even noticed him approaching. Guyeon is right behind him, a giant smile on her face. She gives you a look when your eyes meet, an approving glance towards the boy draped across your side when you only squint, and you can only assume this means he’s passed whatever silent vetting process she’d no doubt set upon him.

You’re not surprised. Donghyuck could probably make a pile of rocks fall in love with him.

“Don’t be like that. Why are you cranky? Are you tired? Is it time for bed? A nap, perhaps? Does cranky Baby Jeno need—”

Jeno turns to look at Donghyuck with an intensity you’ve only seen once or twice in the short week you’ve known them, but you know what’s coming and swiftly remove yourself. You’ve only just realized your phone is ringing again anyway, Honne whispering through the recesses of your hoodie pocket.

“I’m going to take this,” you attempt, but the pair are already fighting. Oh well. At least Guyeon hears you.

“Tell him to hurry up, yeah?”

“Will do.”

“Why aren’t you in the gym?” Jaemin whines. You step swiftly away from the others, picking a random direction to wander as you wince and notch the volume down on your phone. “I can’t leave yet because Coach Hyo wants me and Mark to talk to some dude from University Daily. My shoulders hurt. And I’m lonely.”

“Mark and I. And your shoulders always hurt. What dude? And where is Chenle?

“Still showering. You know how he is with that. And a reporter, I think, because Coach said something about scheduling an interview, but I wasn’t really listening because I was looking for you.”

“Why are you so nosy? You know I wouldn’t have left the building.”

You’re chastising him, but still smile a little at the idea of him looking for you. “I’m in the lobby with Gu and Jiara, by Lucky Eagle if you have to know. And listen, I’m only telling you this now because I don’t want you to be weird about it, but a few of the Timberwolves are here. And no, before you ask I did not invite them. ”

A beat of silence. There’s shuffling on the line, and then, “Sounds like something someone who definitely invited them would say. But if you’re telling me that because you’re worried I’m going to like, bark at them or something, then I’m thoroughly hurt.”

“Just this morning you called Yangyang a fedora-hobbit. You said he looks like he bites people.”

“Because he does and until that little troll apologizes to you, I'll stand by that. Tell me he’s not in our lobby.”

“He’s not. It’s the cool ones I told you about, from DDeumi’s.”

“Good! Then there won’t be any problems. Looks like Coach is coming with the guy now, so Lele and I will probably be there in a minute or two. Don’t miss me too much. Later!"

He hangs up before you can get a word out. Annoying.

Either way you heed his timing and head back to the statue, of which your blended group has now returned to mingling around.

Conversation drifts— from how you like GDSC so far, to the boys majors, from their favorite NBA teams to eventually spilling scary injury stories like every athlete pretty much ends up doing in the presence of other athletes.

Donghyuck is in the middle of describing (in terrible detail) the time he tried to juke a rival in middle school and broke both of his wrists (“And sprained an ankle!” he cries, “Like, how unlucky can you get?!”) when you hear it. A soft rising noise. Chatter, and then as more people join it becomes a straight up cheer; you turn just in time to see the first familiar wet head pop out of the basketball wing corridor. Then another. Then all the rest, Dejun and Shotoro and Seonghwa, everyone, grinning from ear to ear as the lobby shout their congratulations. When you finally see Chenle emerge, floating out of the hallway like a man who’s just won the lottery with his arm around Jaemin’s neck… you sigh.

“Incoming,” Jiara snickers.

Incoming indeed, because it seems like your night is about to get a lot— “Ace!”

...Louder.

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