Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Hyung, I need to tell you something.”

The words make Yeonjun snap to attention from where he was lounging casually on Soobin’s sofa, head on his boyfriend’s lap. 

“Oh my god, are you breaking up with me?” he panics. Every single moment of their relationship flashes before his eyes, from the good to the bad to the really bad. They were never the couple to fight all that much, but maybe Soobin has finally figured out that Yeonjun is kind of weird and embarrassing and would probably end up being a financial burden with how much he ate. 

“What?” Soobin blinks, catching Yeonjun’s flustered hands with his own. “No, of course not. Why would you even think that?”

He sags his shoulders in relief. Reassured in the knowledge that Soobin was not gearing up to dump his ass, Yeonjun straddles Soobin’s thighs and burying his face in the other’s neck. “Do not ever start a conversation like that again,” he mumbles petulantly against the other’s skin. Soobin laughs softly and brings up his hands to rub small circles against Yeonjun’s back, soothing the anxiety his sudden statement had brought. 

There’s a moment of companionable silence before Yeonjun pops his head back to look Soobin in the face. “Well, what is it?”

The other absentmindedly moves his fingers up to his shoulders. “I have a friend from high school coming here to work with a professor. I’m pretty much the only person he knows at this university, so I’m going to help him out.” He shoots him an apologetic glance. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to eat up a lot of my time, so I just wanted to let you know in advance.”

Yeonjun fights the disappointment from showing on his face. With their busy schedules and age difference, it was hard enough to find time to spend together. He thought they had finally gotten their lucky break when the dance team announced their two-month long break and Soobin had dropped tutoring for the semester, but now there was this guy. 

Still, he knows he can’t blame his boyfriend. It’s not like he had any control over what had happened, and Yeonjun would be the last person to fault him for his hospitality. 

“How long is he staying?” he asks, hoping the saddened edge of his voice doesn’t give his feelings away. 

“Only a month,” Soobin responds hastily. 

“Oh,” Yeonjun says. “That’s not that bad.” It really isn’t -- he remembers final season last year, when he had done nothing but study for weeks at a time. At least with this, he still gets to see Soobin occasionally. 

A thought strikes him. “Wait, you should introduce me! I want to see what kind of friends you had in high school.” Yeonjun smiles mischievously. “I’ll get him to spill everything , like what kind of student you were, what you wore, who you dated…”

Red crawls onto Soobin’s cheeks. “Hyung, you’re definitely not allowed to meet him. I’ll probably die from embarrassment with how much you both will tease me.” Then he stops, considering. “Actually, now that I think about it, you guys are pretty similar. You two would probably get along well, but--” he glances at Yeonjun’s grin, which only gets wider “-- I’m not going to let that happen.”

Yeonjun smirks and leans forward until their breaths mingle. “I’m sure I can manage to convince you otherwise,” he purrs, relishing how Soobin’s eyes flicker down to his lips. 

He takes the sudden invasion of his space with stride. “Really?” the other whispers, gripping his waist. “Prove it.” 

It almost makes Yeonjun laugh, the way Soobin is competitive over the silliest things. Still, he has a challenge to settle and a friend to meet. 

He places his hands on the back of Soobin’s neck and bridges the gap between their mouths.

(Yeonjun does, in fact, manage to convince him otherwise.)

Unfortunately, the next week plays out exactly as his boyfriend had predicted.

His friend (whose name he later finds out is Dongyul) arrives the day after Soobin had broke the news, and five days later Yeonjun still hasn’t caught sight of either of them. They text frequently, but it isn’t quite the same, and Yeonjun misses being able to touch Soobin’s soft earlobes. And his cheeks. And just him, in general.  

“Can you stop sighing? I’m trying to get my work done.”

Unimpressed, Yeonjun turns to level Beomgyu a glare. “Listen, brat, I didn’t buy you coffee so you could just sit there and ignore me. Let me miss my boyfriend in peace.”

“It’s eleven o’clock and my essay is due at midnight, hyung. My grade is literally so much more important than your emotional state of being,” Beomgyu responds, typing away at his laptop furiously. 

He can’t argue with that. Yeonjun sinks back into the armchair and observes the other students in the library, noting that most are in the same state of panic as the boy in front of him. He suppresses a smirk at the vindication that swells within him, having miraculously finished his homework early instead of the night before it was due.

Then he realizes that the only reason he could get stuff done was because he was spending all the time he would normally use with Soobin on studying, and the elation bursts like a bubble.

After ten minutes pass, Beomgyu hits one final key and slams his laptop shut. “I made it,” he says happily, reaching for his cup and draining every last drop. When Yeonjun doesn’t respond, he rolls his eyes.

“This is literally so pathetic, hyung. It’s only been like five days,” he says, blunt.

Yeonjun pouts. “You’re pathetic,” he counters, if weakly. “Does making fun of your heartbroken hyung make you feel better about being single?”

Beomgyu stretches his neck, filling the air with concerning, bone-cracking noises. “Wow, never heard that one before,” he says sarcastically, but there’s a good-natured twitch to his lips anyway. After stowing away his laptop in his bag, he settles more comfortably in his chair and gives Yeonjun a thoughtful look. “Actually, if I didn’t despise you two from the bottom of my heart, this would kind of be cute. Soobin really misses you too, you know. When I’m at the dorm he’s always complaining about not being able to see you as much as he wants.”

Yeonjun gasps, bringing his hand to his heart. “You’re right, that is adorable.” He falters. “And kind of sad. I can’t believe the one time I thought we’d finally have time for just each other his stupid friend from high school had to come.”

It’s gone in a split second, but a shadow of disdain flashes across Beomgyu’s face. “Right, Dongyul.”

Yeonjun nods absentmindedly, but when the thought finally clicks he sits up straighter. “Wait,” he starts abruptly, ignoring the way Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at his theatrics. “Have you met him?”

There’s hesitation in the other’s expression as he nods. Yeonjun pounces on the opportunity.

“Is he nice? What does he look like? Do we have any common interests? Does he dance? How old is he?” he asks, questions rolling off the tip of his tongue. He stares excitedly at his friend, hoping for the answers he’s too impatient to wait for, but Beomgyu seems reluctant to give them to him. He looks uncomfortable when he responds. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, hyung, I’ve only met him the couple of times he visited our dorm, and I never really got the chance to talk to him. He looks okay, I guess. Same height as Soobin, which was weird to see, and I think around the same age too.” He pauses and shifts his eyes to the floor. “Is Soobin going to introduce you to him?”

In the back of his mind, Yeonjun files away the sudden change of Beomgyu’s mood. “Yeah,” he says warily, scrutinizing the other’s uneasy expression. “He says he’s going to try to fit in an outing with the three of us sometime this week. What’s wrong?”

Beomgyu drums his hands on the arm of his chair and doesn’t answer for a few moments. The worst comes to Yeonjun’s mind -- maybe it was Dongyul who pieced together that Yeonjun is kind of weird and embarrassing and would probably end up being a financial burden with how much he ate -- and his nerves flare up. “Does he hate me already? Oh god, I haven’t even met him yet. What do I do? How can I fix it?”

“Relax,” Beomgyu cuts him off. “It’s not that.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking conflicted as to what to say next. “Well, take this with a grain of salt. As I said, I’ve only seen him a few times, so I’m not sure this is a hundred percent accurate. I just… I just want to warn you, I guess.”

“Okay…” Yeonjun says, a little bit scared now.

“Dongyul is really close with Soobin,” Beomgyu finally spits out, grimacing as the words leave his mouth. He braces himself, like he expects him to blow up and start throwing chairs at him. Instead, Yeonjun cocks his head to the side in disbelief.

“That’s it?” he says, incredulous. “Christ, Beomgyu, I thought it was something serious. Soobin already told me they were close friends, and it’s not like I’m not going to be mad about that.”

Beomgyu groans. “No, not like that. I mean that Dongyul is like, physically close to Soobin. Every time I’ve met him Dongyul was either hugging him or pressed up against his side, which is kind of concerning, considering that he knows Soobin is in a relationship.”

“So?” Yeonjun shrugs. “That’s not a big deal. I touch other people all the time, and Soobin doesn’t mind. Dude, we were literally cuddling the other day, remember?”

“That’s different,” the other protests. “You’re like a brother to me.” When Yeonjun opens his mouth, he rushes to continue. “And yeah, I know you’re going to say Dongyul is just like a brother to Soobin too. It just… it just feels different with him. The vibe is off when you see the two of them in person, I guess.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yeonjun spots the clock steadily ticking toward midnight. He nudges Beomgyu with his foot and motions to their baggage, signaling him to get his stuff.

“I really do appreciate your concern,” he says as the two of them walk toward the exit, “but I feel like you’re reading too much into this. If there was anything going on between them I trust Soobin to have told me already. Besides, even if Dongyul had a thing for Soobin in high school, they’ve spent two years apart in different universities. Those feelings are probably dead by now.”

He doesn’t see the worried expression linger on Beomgyu’s face.

“Whatever you say, hyung.”

When Soobin and Yeonjun’s schedules finally work out, they decide to meet Dongyul at a local cafe near their campus. 

For the first time in what seems like forever, Soobin drops by Yeonjun’s dorm so they can go there together. A flood of warmth besieges Yeonjun’s heart, and he can’t pinching his boyfriend’s cheeks in happiness.

“What should I wear?” he frets, turning his closet inside out for the perfect outfit. Soobin lies casually on the bed, already dressed in a brown cardigan over a white shirt, and he looks over with an exasperated expression on his face. 

“Hyung, it’s not like you’re meeting my parents or anything. What you have on right now would be fine,” he says, gaze sweeping down the length of his body. Yeonjun heaves a sigh at that; while he loves his boyfriend to bits, Soobin is the last person to ever understand fashion the way he did. That fact that he is encouraging Yeonjun to go out in public with bright blue sweats and an unwashed hoodie is almost offensive. 

His only response is to throw the shirt he has in his hand at the other and keeps digging. It’s not like Soobin’s wrong -- Dongyul probably didn’t give a damn about what he wore. But meeting his boyfriend’s childhood friend feels like a step to something bigger, something more serious, and he’d rather die than leave a bad first impression. 

Eventually, he pieces together an outfit that makes his waist look snatched and his legs even longer. A seedling of pride blossoms in his heart when he sees Soobin swallow dryly at where his oversized shirt tucks into his black jeans, but they don’t have time to mess around. Smirking mischievously, Yeonjun just winks and pushes the other out the door.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up,” he sings, grabbing the keys on the kitchen table. Strictly speaking, they’re not his, and Taehyun would probably have an aneurysm if he knew Yeonjun regularly took his baby out on rides. On the other hand, Yeonjun has been doing this for over two years, and if his roommate still couldn’t figure out why his car suddenly had less gas (or more -- Yeonjun may tease but he’s not a complete ass) when he hadn’t used it all day, the blame should be on him too.

The thought eases the sliver of guilt in his heart. He’s well aware of the flaws in his logic, but he hasn’t crashed the car yet, so he’ll leave figuring that out to another day. 

“It’ll be your fault,” Soobin grumbles, but he picks up the pace and slips into the passenger's seat of Taehyun’s car. “Why are we even driving? We could walk there in ten minutes.”

Yeonjun shushes him. “Listen, I’m trying to get Dongyul to think I’m rich. If my charming personality and beauty doesn’t work, he’ll be forced to like me because of my money.”

“That,” Soobin grimaces, “is so wrong in so many different ways. Hyung, you literally need to stop worrying. It’s impossible for anyone to not like you.”

“There’s always a first for everything,” he hums, slotting the keys into the car. The other shakes his head but doesn’t protest further, choosing to stare out the window instead. After they park, Soobin takes him by the hand and they walk into the cafe together. Yeonjun looks around, mildly impressed by how much the owner made of such a little space. There’s an odd but somehow fitting mismatch of sofas and chairs spread across the floor, as well as a flickering fireplace in the middle of everything. On the far wall, a giant chalkboard is filled with doodles and inspirational quotes.

“Dongyul isn’t here yet,” Soobin says, checking his phone. “Find us a table, hyung, I’ll order.” Then he makes a face, like his next few words are going to be a pain to get out. “Mint chocolate frappe, right?”

“You know me so well,” Yeonjun swoons, blowing kisses to his exasperated boyfriend. He chooses a table near a window and waits for the other to finish purchasing their food. 

Just as Soobin’s about to sit next to him, the cafe door opens again and a tall student walks through. Remembering Beomgyu’s description, Yeonjun connects the dots and surmises this is Dongyul, who walks toward them when Soobin waves him over.

He supposes Beomgyu wasn’t wrong in saying Dongyul was ok looking, but it’s leaning toward more of an understatement than anything. Dongyul has dyed blond hair and a killer jawline, narrow eyes and all sharp edges to match. He’s not Yeonjun’s type, but still attractive, and a flicker of nervousness makes his heart skip a beat. 

“Soobin,” the other greets, pulling his boyfriend into a hug. “Sorry I’m late, I got lost.”

Yeonjun’s eyes catch the way his hands linger on Soobin’s back. An incoherent thought floats up in his mind, a remnant of the conversation he had with Beomgyu, but it disappears as fast as it arose.  

“No problem,” Soobin says, brushing it off easily. “I get it, this campus is a total maze.” He gestures to the table and asks him to take a seat. 

Dongyul slips into the chair elegantly, somehow managing to not look Yeonjun fully in the face throughout the entire process. It throws him off a little that the other isn’t acknowledging his presence, but before he can say anything Soobin slips an arm around his shoulders.

“Also, this is Yeonjun, my boyfriend,” he says, introducing him. He shoots the other smile and extends his hand for Dongyul to take, which he does, if a bit reluctantly.

“So you’re the one Soobin keeps talking about,” Dongyul says, finally addressing him. There’s an edge to his voice that’s a little strange, almost like he’s upset at the fact Yeonjun actually exists, but he chalks it up to friendly protectiveness. 

“Yup,” Yeonjun grins. “Aw, Soobin talks about me a lot?” He can feel rather than see the blush blooming across his boyfriend’s face, and he leans up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Just in case there were any doubts as to whether they were actually dating, of course, not because he thinks Soobin is adorable when he’s embarrassed.

After cooing at how Soobin has turned tomato red for a moment, he turns to ask Dongyul a question and start a conversation. To his surprise, the other shoots him a dirty look.

“Um,” he starts, forehead creasing slightly. “I know I just met you and I don’t want to be rude, but you know Soobin hates being affectionate in public, right?”

He blinks in surprise. First because it seriously sounds like Dongyul is scolding him, which is problematic not only because Yeonjun is goddamn older than him but also because he’s making it sound like it’s a scandal to kiss his boyfriend, and second because did he not just hug Soobin five minutes ago? 

“I’m sorry?” he says, incredulous. He feels his hackles raise imperceptibly even though he’s trying his best not to get angry. 

“Dongyul, it’s fine. I grew out of that a long time ago,” Soobin interrupts. When Yeonjun sends him a questioning gaze, he gets even more flustered. “In high school I really hated skinship. I was a hundred times shyer then than I am now,” he explains. Then he laughs. “Hyung, if you weren’t here to get me to open up, I think I would have been a total social hermit.”

At this, Yeonjun relaxes. His irritation disappears, because Dongyul was just trying to be a good friend, right? His words were just concern over Soobin’s wellbeing, and Yeonjun was the one being sensitive over nothing. 

“My bad,” Dongyul apologizes, bowing his head. He looks genuinely remorseful when he says, “It’s just, I know Soobin is really sensitive over stuff like this so I just assumed the worst. No offense, Yeonjun-sshi.”

“It’s no big deal,” he says airily. He sends him another bright smile. “And feel free to call me hyung, okay?”

The other gives him a tentative smile back, and Yeonjun counts it as a win. Despite their rough beginning, conversation steadily begins to flow between the three of them as they talk about Soobin’s past and all their accumulated stories. A bit of hope to salvage a new friendship begins to bud in Yeonjun’s chest.

When a server delivers them their drinks and snacks, however, it dies just as fast as it came.

“Ew, who ordered mint choco?” Dongyul says, disgust written on every feature. Taking it as a joke, Yeonjun laughs and hugs the cup closer to himself. 

“Hey, don't knock it till you try it,” he says. He sips the drink and watches as the other two cringe, grinning when they look absolutely horrified at the fact he is actually enjoying the taste. 

Dongyul shakes his head. “Hyung, that’s revolting.” Then he turns to Soobin. “You need to find better taste in men.”

It’s not said in a particularly malicious way, but it stings all the same. Yeonjun’s not socially inept -- he knows what Dongyul said is not to be taken seriously and that it is, for all intents and purposes, just some banter. If Beomgyu had said the exact same thing, he wouldn’t have cared the slightest bit.

The problem is, Dongyul is very much not Beomgyu, and Yeonjun just doesn’t know if the other is close enough to him to be able to say that. 

Especially since he quickly realizes that Dongyul does not, in fact, like him. No, scratch that, it’s more like the other absolutely loathes him.

For the first time, Yeonjun’s beauty, personality, and car all fail him (because lo and behold, turns out Dongyul has a car too).  Snide remarks like the mint chocolate one quickly follow every sentence that leaves his mouth, and sometimes they edge on the wrong side of hurtful. The other doesn’t laugh at any of Yeonjun’s humorous anecdotes, and he leaves his questions hanging more often than not. Dongyul doesn’t bother hiding that he had known Soobin longer and thus knows him better either.

It becomes hard not to compare the decade of their friendship to the meager year of Yeonjun’s relationship with Soobin. He has never been the one to be jealous, and like he’s mentioned earlier, he’s curious to know more about his boyfriend’s childhood. Somehow, though, the way Dongyul phrases their stories makes Yeonjun feel like an outsider. He doesn’t get the inside jokes, doesn’t understand who their middle school advisory teacher was and why she was such a bitch, and while Soobin tries his best to catch him up, Dongyul doesn’t leave enough time for him to fully explain. 

It’s also in the way Dongyul seems to not care for any of their experiences. Yeonjun may not have spent the entirety of elementary, middle, and high school with Soobin, but he has all of Soobin’s college stories to share. When Yeonjun tries to relay that one time his boyfriend drank too much and threw up all over his couch Dongyul cuts him off and steers the conversation back to anything that isn’t Yeonjun related. He tries his best not to take it to heart, but slowly, he starts to speak less and less. 

The next two hours move like molasses, sluggishly oozing by. At this point Yeonjun has permanently planted his straw in his mouth, trying to make his drink last the duration of this outing. Soobin, to his credit, has noticed his lack of participation and is trying his best to bring him back into the loop, but Yeonjun just feels like shit. The social butterfly in him as deflated and now he wants to go home.

The table buzzes briefly as Dongyul’s phone lights up. He checks it and then frowns, sending Soobin an apologetic look. “Sorry, looks like the prof has something she needs to discuss with me.”

“It’s fine, we needed to get going anyway.” Soobin stands up and gathers their trash, throwing it away in the bin not too far from their table. When he returns,  Dongyul clasps him in another hug and smiles broadly. 

“This was fun,” he says, “just sitting around and reminiscing. We should do this again.” It’s like Yeonjun isn’t even there, but at this point, he’s too used to it to care. He just stands awkwardly behind them, waiting for the embrace that lasts seconds longer than it should to break apart. 

“Bye Soobin,” Dongyul calls cheerfully, after he finally lets go of his boyfriend and walks away. A few steps later, he follows with a dismissive “bye Yeonjun-hyung” that sounds far too much like an afterthought to be genuine. 

He halfheartedly waves instead of giving a verbal response like Soobin, who repeats the farewell. The two leave the cafe through the other exit that leads to the parking lot, but before they get to the car, Soobin tugs on his shirt anxiously.

“Hyung?” he asks, hesitant. When Yeonjun stops walking but doesn’t look at him, he continues. “Are you alright? You seemed kind of quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” Yeonjun says, his voice raspy from disuse. The response is automatic and pretty much a lie, because he’s honestly the furthest thing from okay. All the excitement from the dorm has dissipated, along with any of the hope he had of leaving a good impression on Soobin’s friend. He feels embarrassed that he tried so hard, that he wore nice clothes only to be snubbed by someone younger than him. 

“I’m sorry if Dongyul talked too much,” he offers, probably noticing Yeonjun’s lie. “Or if he was rude. I don’t think he realizes that some of the things he says are offensive, and I guarantee you he’s not trying to be mean.”

The fact that Soobin is now making excuses for Dongyul just makes him feel worse. Summoning all the acting experience he has (which is literally just the one time he was cast as a tree back in his middle school play), Yeonjun pastes a fake smile on his face and shakes his head. “No, really, it was fine. I’m glad I got to meet him, he seems nice.”

Soobin chews his lower lip doubtfully, but Yeonjun doesn’t give him the time to keep talking. He’s already in the car, desperate to go home and maybe sleep the shame away.

“You were right,” Yeonjun says, slumping into the sofa. 

“I often am,” Beomgyu replies, not unsympathetically. He scoops out a spoonful of ice cream from the carton and shoves it into Yeonjun’s mouth, ignoring the choking noises he makes. “I did try to warn you, you know.”

He stares sullenly at the younger. A couple of days had passed since the outing and the memory of it still stung. The fact that he hadn’t been able to see Soobin since that day only made matters worse, and if he’s being honest, Yeonjun isn’t quite sure why he called Beomgyu over for support. The other clearly didn’t know how to take care of himself, much less others, if he thought severe disappointment and social failure could be solved with calories and dairy.

“What?” Beomgyu says, when he finds himself on the receiving end of a glare. He raises an eyebrow. “Did I or did I not tell you that Dongyul was interested in Soobin? Huh?”

“I never said I thought Dongyul was interested in Soobin,” Yeonjun counters immediately. Blood rushes to his face at the mere thought of it being true, though it isn’t as if he hadn’t secretly conjured the theory up by himself. Jealousy is out of character for Yeonjun; it’s a feeling that he’s never really experienced in a relationship before, mostly because he’s never dated someone he’s cared for as much as Soobin, and now he doesn’t know how to deal with the ugly emotion raging in his heart. 

As if Beomgyu can read his thoughts, he rolls his eyes and shoves another mouthful of ice cream into his mouth. “You suck at lying, hyung. I can see right through you. And just so we’re clear, there’s no other reason for Dongyul to hate you as much as he does if he didn’t have a crush on Soobin-hyung. Unless he’s just a total bastard in general, but I think that’s unlikely because he’s nice to pretty much everyone but you.”

Yeonjun groans into the cushions. “I hate this,” he says miserably, a lump forming in his throat. He tries to ignore Beomgyu’s heavy gaze, but eventually, he gives in. “What?”

“I think you should talk to Soobin about it,” the other responds, careful. 

Yeonjun shakes his head. “No, I’m not going to. I only have to endure a few more weeks of this shit, and I don’t want to ruin his time together with a childhood friend. That would be selfish.”

“Would it, though? As Soobin-hyung’s significant other, I’m pretty sure you have the right to tell him if you think someone else fancies him, especially if that person is his childhood best friend. Any relationship needs communication, and Soobin-hyung is probably going to be too dense to figure it out for himself.” Beomgyu tilts his head. “No offense to him, of course.”

Yeonjun shakes his head. A part of him agrees, but he’s still reluctant to do anything about it. While Soobin isn’t socially incompetent, the other is shy and slow to open up. He has friends but few in which he actually confides in or trusts, and if Dongyul is one of those people, Yeonjun would feel terrible taking that away. 

Also, Dongyul’s feelings, in essence, were harmless. As far as Yeonjun could tell, all his romantic endeavors were returned in an entirely platonic way, and he could handle a few lingering touches here and there. It didn’t matter that Dongyul hated him anyway, because Yeonjun wasn’t obligated to play nice with him or even see him for the duration of his stay, and he more than trusts Soobin not to do anything while they’re apart.

Above all, Yeonjun just wants Soobin to be happy. Even if it makes him unhappy -- because that’s what love is, right? It’s all about sacrifice and doing what’s best for the other party, and Yeonjun’s instincts are telling him that this is the right choice. 

Beomgyu sighs. “Hyung, we literally went over how I’m always right. Why do you never listen to me?”

Instead of responding, Yeonjun laughs and nudges the other with his foot. “Come on, put that ice cream away before it melts completely. You said you wanted to rewatch Train to Busan, right? I’ll search it up on Netflix.”

It’s not the most subtle means of changing the subject, but Beomgyu begrudgingly allows it. He settles one frustrated gaze on the elder before stomping away to do as he was told.

Three more weeks.  

Yeonjun ignores the sinking feeling in his heart and flips his laptop open.  

The following days are slightly less painful than what he had imagined, though admittedly, that didn’t mean much.

He misses his boyfriend, of course. When he walks past a familiar restaurant or sees another couple on campus holding hands, a tug of gloom pulls at his heart. But with classes and homework and his other activities, life finds a way to keep him from lingering on his thoughts. Even though they might not be able to see each other in person, Soobin always finds the time to text or facetime him, and the effort in which the other takes to keep in touch reminds Yeonjun that he’s not the only one suffering. 

The new pictures on Soobin’s social media with Dongyul’s face crowding the image instead of Yeonjun stings. So does the few times he has caught sight of Soobin across the campus only to find Dongyul pressed against his side. But he’s already expected the hurt. He told Beomgyu he could deal with it -- all he has to do now is prove it.

When Wooyoung’s birthday finally rolls around, Yeonjun feels like he can finally breathe.

For once since Dongyul’s appearance, the world sits right around him. He’s holding Soobin’s hand with his own and carrying their gift in the other, and it’s just the two of them walking to Wooyoung’s crappy apartment. There’s no third hand snaking along his boyfriend’s waist, no passive-aggressive remarks following his every word, and it’s almost shocking how much their normal lifestyle resembles heaven after Dongyul had arrived. 

A giddy smile spreads across his face.

“What?” Soobin asks, eyeing his goofy expression. When Yeonjun only hums in response, he tugs his hand lightly as if he wants a proper reply. 

“I’m just…” he pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m just excited to see Wooyoung,” he says, somewhat truthfully. It’s not a complete lie -- Yeonjun hadn’t seen his close friend for so long due to their different schedules, and he’s looking forward to catching up with how the other is doing. If he’s being truthful, though, just spending time with Soobin by his side and Dongyul nowhere in sight makes him the tiniest bit happier.  

“Oh.” Soobin turns his head and stares blankly forward, sounding almost indifferent now that he has his answer. It dampens Yeonjun’s spirits, ever so slightly, but he brushes it off.

“What was that?” he teases, swinging their enjoined hands back and forth. “Aren’t you excited to see Wooyoung too?”

He watches the way his boyfriend bites his bottom lip with his teeth and avoids his gaze, which Soobin always does when he’s bothered by something and trying to hide it. Unconvincingly, the other responds, “Of course I am.” His steps speed up just enough so that Yeonjun can’t see his face clearly, gently pulling him forward. “I just haven’t seen you this happy in a while, that’s all.”

The last bit is grumbled under Soobin’s breath, and Yeonjun is convinced he is mishearing the petulant tone in his voice. Choosing to ignore the remark, he slips the handle of the bag he had put their gift in down to his elbows and points at a building with his now free hand. “That’s his apartment.”

He almost skips up the stairs to reach the door, dragging his suddenly subdued boyfriend in tow. Just as he’s about to knock, the door flings open and Wooyoung’s beaming face comes into view.

“Yeonjun!” he cries in delight. “You made it.” Then, looking behind him, he adds “Soobin, I’m happy to see you too.”

Yeonjun takes his offered hand and uses it to pull the other into a hug, excitement bleeding into his every movement. When Wooyoung squirms in his embrace and whines about being squished, Yeonjun giggles and smacks their foreheads together. “Happy birthday, loser! About time you called me over.”

Wooyoung pushes him away, ignoring Yeonjun’s squawks of being mistreated. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this,” he says to Soobin, faux sympathy in his tone. 

Soobin shrugs woodenly instead of answering. Yeonjun notices the way his eyes stray to the ground and stay there, like he’s uncomfortable, and he walks over to take his hand. “Are you okay?” he whispers, soft enough so only they can hear. Someone had called for Wooyoung so he had left to rejoin the heart of the party in the living room, and Yeonjun takes the moment they’re alone to survey the other’s face. 

“I’m fine,” Soobin says. His lips pull up in a small but familiar smile, and he motions to the doorway with his head. “Let’s go in.”

Yeonjun nods, thinking about Soobin’s shyness. His boyfriend probably felt out of his comfort zone surrounded by all these people, but that was usually subject to change after he got used to the environment. He just needed to loosen up, that’s all. A devious smile spreads across his face at the thought of getting his boyfriend drunk, which had always led to something hilarious and somewhat embarrassing in the past, and he tugs his boyfriend into the center of the crowd.

An hour later they find themselves situated on the couch next to Wooyoung, chatting in a small group of six about life. Yeonjun is a bit disappointed to find Soobin refusing every drink he passes his way, but he isn’t going to force the other to do what he doesn’t want to and ends up downing the alcohol himself instead. It’s probably way too much in such a short amount of time, but the buzz is a welcome release from all the stress that has happened recently. His inhibitions start to lower, and slowly, his brain-to-mouth filter begins to loosen.   

Sometime after he tells a joke that leaves everyone roaring in laughter, Yeonjun hears Soobin murmur in his ear that he’s going to use the bathroom. He nods, not paying the action much attention, but concern gnaws at the back of his mind when the other doesn’t return. The conversation continues without him, and Yeonjun keeps turning his head around as he waits to catch sight of his boyfriend.

When he finally does come back, there’s a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Yeonjun asks worriedly, seeing the downturn of Soobin’s lips. The other shifts nervously behind him, and he doesn’t meet Yeonjun’s eyes when he replies.

“Sorry hyung, I have to go. Dongyul says he’s sick and needs someone to buy him some medicine,” he says.

The bottom of Yeonjun’s stomach drops.

He’s not going to lie — it stings a little that Soobin is ditching their time together for Dongyul. Today was supposed to be just about them and their mutual friends, a day where Yeonjun could talk and drink and party with his boyfriend and not get interrupted by some person from Soobin’s past who liked him way too much. He tries to push down his hurt but it leaks through the barricade around his heart anyway, and Yeonjun just prays it doesn’t show on his face. 

“Wait,” he says, getting up from the sofa. Wooyoung’s eyes flicker towards him when he realizes Yeonjun is leaving his side, but after the other sees Yeonjun walking up to his boyfriend, he relaxes and resumes the conversation he was having with his roommate.

Yeonjun pulls Soobin from behind the sofa to a more secluded corner, where the music is quieter and no one can overhear their conversation. “I don’t understand. Why can’t Dongyul just ask someone else?”

The other frowns. “Hyung, he probably doesn’t know anyone other than me well enough to feel comfortable asking.”

It’s a logical explanation, but Yeonjun’s too busy feeling heartbroken to use his brain. 

“You can’t just ditch Wooyoung’s birthday, ” he snaps, latching on to any excuse that might get Soobin to stay. His boyfriend’s expression shutters blank, any apologetic features he might have had now schooled into subdued irritation, but he goes on. “He’s literally been planning this for months , you know, because it’s so hard to get all of us together with our busy schedules. It sucks that Dongyul’s sick, but he’s not dying is he?”

“What the hell are you even saying, hyung?” Soobin asks, clenching his fists. “Who the hell just leaves a friend who's sick by themselves? You’re being childish.”

The rebuke grates on Yeonjun’s nerves. A thought he shouldn’t speak aloud races through his mind, but with alcohol flowing in his blood, it comes out anyway. “You sure he’s just a friend?”

Soobin looks visibly thrown. “W-what?”

He crowds the other closer to the wall, something mean and spiteful worming into his voice. “These past two weeks it’s always Dongyul this or Dongyul that. God, it’s like you love him or something.”

His boyfriend’s eyes bug open, shock flashing across his face. The fully functioning part of Yeonjun’s brain that currently isn’t intoxicated notes that there isn’t an ounce of guilt on his expression, implying that what he’s saying is not, in fact, actually true. That maybe he should shut up and let Soobin defend himself, and then apologize for being an asshole. As it is, however, all the things Yeonjun has been repressing comes spilling forward. 

“Come on, don’t act like you haven’t noticed. He fawns over every single thing you say, and he’s always touching you, hugging you, whatever. And he hates me. You said it yourself, there’s no one who doesn’t like me, right? So why would someone who doesn’t even know who I am hate me…” He slips on an expression of mock surprise. “Oh, I know! Maybe it’s because I’m fucking dating the one he likes, and he can’t stand the fact that I exist.”

Soobin opens his mouth to respond, but Yeonjun cuts him off. “And if he’s being so obvious about it, how could you not realize it? It’s literally impossible, unless you actually do know and just don’t care, or…” He lets the sentence trail off, the rest of the words not needing to be said.

“Hyung, I would never… why are you even saying this?” The dim lights of Wooyoung’s apartment can’t quite hide the glint of tears in Soobin’s eyes. “Do you honestly think I would cheat on you?”

A pit drops in Yeonjun’s stomach as the full weight of his tirade hits him, but by then it’s too late. Soobin doesn’t even wait for his response, pushing past his body and disappearing into the throng of people before he can even blink. By the time that he registers what has happened and chases after his boyfriend, Soobin is gone.

Trying to convince himself he said nothing wrong can only work for so long.

Yeonjun stares listlessly at his phone, ignoring all the notifications other than Soobin’s did you get home safe? text. He had replied hours ago that he was, along with an added hey can we talk? but the other gave no indication of having read the response at all.

He doesn’t know what to do. On one hand, he definitely could have phrased everything he said the previous night in a better way. Maybe in a sequence of words that were gentle instead of accusing, and the venom in his voice probably hadn’t helped either. 

On the other, he felt like his rant wasn’t entirely unjustified. His phrasing might have been off but the intent behind them wasn’t, and it annoys him that Soobin had just written everything off as a drunken rant. He had valid points, and the other didn’t even bother addressing them. 

Glaring at his screen isn’t going to magically make his boyfriend reply to him, but Yeonjun does it anyway. He considers calling the other, but if Soobin really insisted on ignoring him, it would be easy enough just to decline instead of answering. 

The only way to force him into a conversation was to see him in person, and that wasn’t happening any time soon.

Unless.

Yeonjun taps on the phone and brings it up to his ear, praying that the recipient will actually pick up. Luckily, he only has to wait a few seconds before an irritated voice comes through the speakers. 

“When I said to talk to Soobin,” Beomgyu starts, voice clipped. “I didn’t mean that you should make him cry, asshole.”

“Where is he?” Yeonjun deflects, already heading to his room to get changed. 

“Not in the dorm, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’m going to tell you where he went off to either.”

“Beomgyu,” he huffs, wrangling a shirt over his head. “I’m going to apologize and finally talk to him about Dongyul like you told me to. Just spit out the address, will you?”

“You already had your shot yesterday and blew it,” Beomgyu replies. Somehow, even his tinny, compressed voice through a phone call can hold all the judgment that comes from seeing him in person. “What makes today any different?”

“Last night I was drunk and emotionally unstable,” Yeonjun argues. “Let’s just say I was not having a good time.” Then he rolls his eyes. “Can you just tell me where he went? I’ll take you shopping next week and buy you something if you do.”

There’s a pregnant pause in which Yeonjun assumes the other is thinking the offer over. After a while, Beomgyu says, “He’s at the barbeque place near Kai’s dorm with Dongyul and his other friends. Hyung, if you fuck this up, I’m going to break your legs.”

“Thanks,” Yeonjun sighs, pocketing his wallet and ending the call. He debates over whether he should walk or take a taxi, and eventually personal comfort wins out against the cry of his bank account. 

When he arrives at the restaurant, he stops in front of the door. The tinted glass looms above him, and for a moment, he wonders if he’s doing the right thing. Barging in on dinner seems awfully rude, and it more likely than not to be the wrong move if Soobin is already mad at him. At the same time, it’s not like there’s any occasion that’s fit for confrontation, and now was as good as any. Yeonjun uses that to steel his nerves and grabs onto the handle of the door. 

A whisper of conversation stops him from opening it.

The muddle of voices coming from the side of the restaurant exterior finally drifts into his ear, and after listening for a moment, Yeonjun realizes it’s Soobin who is speaking. The fact that his boyfriend isn’t alone slips his mind, and the only thing he can think is wow, what great timing -- I don’t even have to do the whole awkward ‘can I speak to you alone’ in front of his friends. His feet carry him into the next alleyway instinctively, and just as he’s about to call Soobin’s name, the sight he comes onto freezes him dead in his tracks.

There’s no mistaking the press of Dongyul’s lips on his boyfriend’s. It’s impossible; he has burned their faces into his brain and memories. Almost masochistically, his eyes scrutinize the scene for every last detail -- from the way Dongyul has his slender fingers hitched on Soobin’s collar down to their intertwined legs.

He knows he must have made some sort of sound because not even a second later, they break apart and stare back at him. Dongyul says nothing while Soobin makes some sort of vague “it’s not what it looks like!” comment, but Yeonjun can’t seem to comprehend anything other than the fact that his suspicions have been right. A strange buzzing noise fills his ears, and his heart slows until he can feel every single beat. 

He wonders why his palm hurts all of the sudden. When a drop of something warm streams down his knuckle, Yeonjun realizes his hands are clenched into fists and that his nails have broken past his skin.

Huh.

Still, he has enough of his wits that when Soobin gets within a foot of him, he backs away immediately from his extended hand. “Don’t touch me,” he snaps. The pained expression the other makes is the exact same as last night, only this time, Yeonjun finds he doesn’t give a flying fuck. This time, Dongyul’s right behind them, an upset but innocent expression on his face, like he’s not aware that he did anything wrong, and Yeonjun can’t dredge up the sympathy needed to feel any sort of guilt. This time, he’s the one to stare Soobin right in the face and cut through whatever bullshit he’s spouting (because Yeonjun still can’t hear him, still can’t comprehend the excuses Soobin is telling him) and say, “We’re done, yeah?” and then leave.

Soobin gives chase but eventually, Yeonjun finds himself alone, holed up in a convenience store bathroom. He grips his phone hard enough that he’s surprised it doesn’t break and waits.

“Yeonjun-hyung?” Taehyun’s voice comes through, clearly audible. “What’s up?”

“Can you pick me up?” he says, much more calmly than he feels. “I can text you the address.”

“Sure,” the other responds, puzzled. There’s a loud smack that reverbs through the call and a pained you could have just asked for the phone, idiot before Yeonjun hears Beomgyu speak. 

“Stop using your roommate as a free ride and take the bus home with Soobin-hyung,” he chastises, unaware of how Yeonjun flinches at the name. “You guys are older than us, for heaven’s sake-”

“We broke up.”

The call falls silent, nothing but static echoing off the bathroom tile. 

“I’ll be there in ten,” Taehyun says.  

It hurts a lot more than Yeonjun expected, which means a lot considering he expected a shit load of pain. 

Fuck whoever said ‘time heals all wounds’. A week has passed since the incident and Yeonjun still feels the gaping hole where Soobin ripped his heart out of his chest. 

He didn’t think life without the other was possible, and now that he’s suddenly forced to live that reality, everything just seems off. There’s no one waiting outside his dorm room to walk him to class, no one to hold his hand and take him out on little lunch dates he probably doesn’t have the time for. It wasn’t like they were doing any of these things in the past month anyway, but it’s different now that it’s their personal decision not to, unlike before when it was because of circumstance.

Loneliness starts to dog at his heels, but Yeonjun acknowledges that a fair share of the blame mostly lies on him -- he had pretty much been ignoring all of his friends other than Taehyun throughout the entire week. 

In his defense, he’s just trying to be considerate. Out of their friend group, Beomgyu and Kai are closer to Soobin than they are to him, and with the breakup, he doesn’t want them to be forced to pick a side. 

Avoiding them is actually pretty easy. With their classes being on opposite ends of the campus, all Yeonjun has to do is come straight to his room after the lectures are over and make excuses when any of his junior peers ask him to hang out. None of them so far have actively sought him out in person, but Yeonjun is only minimally offended. After ignoring the notifications blowing up on his phone for a couple of days, he had texted each of them a single line of please just give me some space and had then deleted all his social media apps.   

The only person he hadn’t contacted at all since the breakup is Soobin, but he figures someone would have passed along the message by now.

Listless, Yeonjun wraps the couch blanket a little tighter around his body and stares dimly at his computer screen. A grainy, pirated version of Cinderella is playing on it, just barely distracting him from the grief that plagues his mind. He knows he should be working on homework instead, but the thought of actually doing something productive makes him physically nauseous. 

It’s not a particularly sad movie, but in the end, he finds tears leaking out of his eyes anyway. 

Yeonjun knows something is up the moment Taehyun tries to cajole him into actually going outside. 

“You need to actually get some fresh air hyung,” he says, throwing some clothes on top of the comforter that covers Yeonjun’s prone body. “It’s not healthy to stay in your room all the time.”

Annoyed at the sudden weight on him, Yeonjun wriggles around until he hears fabric hit the floor and squirms his way up so his head peeks out from under the blanket. The other boy has his two favorite shirts in his hands, as if deliberating which one looks better with the pants that are currently on the ground. 

“I do go out,” he protests, feeling a little pathetic that his younger roommate feels the need to stage an intervention. The fact that he’s wrapped in a blanket burrito at eleven in the morning on a Tuesday isn’t really helping, but still. 

Taehyun tosses the oversized black shirt in his direction and puts the other top back into his closet, evidently satisfied with a monochrome outfit for whatever outing he has planned. When he walks over to forcibly remove Yeonjun from the bed, he has an unimpressed expression on his face.

“Going to class doesn’t count as going out,” he says bluntly. A frustrated sigh escapes him as Yeonjun resists his ministrations and nestles closer to the mattress. “Seriously, hyung, I’m worried about you. I’m pretty sure you haven’t spoken to anyone but me these past few weeks, and I hate seeing you sad all the time.”

Now that makes Yeonjun sit up. 

“I am not sad,” he protests vehemently, fighting the thick layer of blanket so he can face his roommate. “I’m fine , Taehyun. I don’t even know why you would say that. Just because I’m choosing to focus on myself doesn’t mean I’m sad -- like, you do know I’m a fully functioning adult who doesn’t need a boyfriend, right? I’m actually doing great without Soobin around, fuck him.” 

Taehyun raises a brow at his sudden word vomit, but Yeonjun isn’t done. “Honestly, I don’t even care about him anymore. I’m so over that asshole.” He struggles to pull out his arm from under the comforter that is wrapped around him. Once it’s free, he snaps his fingers violently. “You see that? That’s how much the past year of our relationship means to me now. Nothing. ”

“Hyung,” the other starts slowly, “I literally saw you crying into your cereal an hour ago while you were eating breakfast.”

A red flush blooms on Yeonjun’s cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he deflects, feeling his body gradually heat up from embarrassment. He wriggles around until the blanket only hangs loosely off his shoulders. “And even if I was crying, it would be so rude of you to point it out to me. Like who does that? You don’t go up to a person and remind them of all the times they’ve cried. Actually, who even says those were tears of sadness? Maybe I was crying because I was so happy, you know, because my life is so great without Soobin in it.” 

Instead of responding, Taehyun leans forward and snatches the comforter away from his body. Yeonjun tries to grab for it but the fabric just slips under his fingers, and he ends up falling on the floor next to his discarded clothes. 

“Okay hyung,” his roommate responds, only a little bit condescending. “I believe you. You’re perfectly fine, and you don’t miss Soobin at all. How about you prove it by going outside with me? I want some coffee from the cafe nearby.” Taehyun bundles up the blanket in his arms and tosses it back on the bed, much to Yeonjun’s displeasure. 

He considers the offer. It’s not like the idea of leaving his dorm is unappealing, and he is rather sick of eating nothing but cup noodles and cereal. Regardless of how much he wanted to doze off again, sleep has pretty much fled him the moment Taehyun pulled him off his bed. The only downside, however…

“Why do we have to go to a cafe?” Yeonjun whines, accepting his fate. He pulls on the black sweatpants Taehyun had chosen for him and slips the similarly colored shirt over the top of his head. “Can’t we just go to, I don’t know, McDonald’s instead? They have good coffee too.”

Taehyun watches him with thinly veiled disgust. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, okay? Now hurry up, I want to get there before the lunchtime crowd hits.”

“But that’s the place where I first met Dongyul,” Yeonjun grumbles under his breath. Still, when he takes a second to think about it, he figures that the best way to really get over his ex is to stop associating him with memories of the past. If he could last the entire meal without thinking too much about either of them it should be a pretty clear indicator that he didn’t care anymore, right?

Once he hunts down his phone and wallet, the two of them decide to walk toward the cafe so Yeonjun can stretch his legs. He doesn’t realize how much staying inside has taken a toll on him until he starts physically feeling better in the few minutes he’s been outside, the fog hanging over his head clearing a bit and adding an extra spring in his step. When he begrudgingly relays this to Taehyun, the other smirks knowingly back. 

“Hyung, what did I tell you? I’m always right,” he says. Yeonjun shoves him for that, but he has a tentative smile on his face and they resume the walk in companionable silence. Soon enough the cozy little cafe comes into view. Yeonjun, feeling a little grateful to his roommate, holds open the door for the other and breaths in the smell of warm pastries and tea. Yeah, he definitely needed this.  

“What do you want to order?” he asks, staring at the menu written above the cashier. He’s so focused on trying to decipher the tiny writing that he doesn’t notice when Taehyun steadily pulls him to a nearby table and pushes him down so he takes a seat. After hearing no response, he frowns a little and repeats the question: “Hey, I said what do you - ”

“ Hyung. ”

Yeonjun freezes. He slowly turns away from the menu and stares at the boy seated across from him.

If he’s being honest, Soobin sort of looks like shit. His black hair is ruffled and uncombed, and the bags under his eyes are darker than Yeonjun has ever seen them before. As if he had confined himself indoors as Yeonjun has, his skin looks pale and waxy under the poor cafe lighting. 

It should be telling how Yeonjun drinks in the sight of him anyway. The other still looks disgustingly beautiful, and he hates how his heart suddenly beats into overdrive. 

“Taehyun,” he says calmly, because Yeonjun has remarkable self-control. “What the fuck is going on?”

The other tenses from behind his chair, but he responds in a casual manner. “Oh, what a coincidence! Soobin-hyung just happened to be here too.” He casts a wary glance at Yeonjun’s face. Evidently not liking what he saw, Taehyun slowly edges away from the two of them. “Haha, this is so crazy. You know what -- why don’t you guys catch up? I’ll just go order something for you both and then… you know... dip.”

And he does just that. Soobin and Yeonjun are left alone at their table with nobody but each other and the awkward tension that has sprung up between them. He stares resolutely at the floor, determined not to start up a conversation, and the other just watches him. 

God, he hates Taehyun. He should have known his roommate was being too nice to him this morning -- he just would have never expected this kind of betrayal from him. 

After a few minutes of silence, Yeonjun feels agitation itch at his heart. His thoughts start to drown out the general murmur of the customers around them, and he hates how the other just looks at him. It’s impossible to ignore his heavy gaze, and because he is weak and pathetic, Yeonjun is the first to break. “What do you want?” he asks, voice monotone. 

Soobin swallows dryly. “I-I just,” he starts, so quiet he’s almost mumbling, “I just wanted to talk to you, hyung. About what happened that night.”

“There’s not much to explain,” Yeonjun says bitterly, angry that Soobin is making him relive the experience. He crosses his arms and glares at the coffee stain on the table. “I get it, you and Dongyul had a thing that never died out from high school, and I was just some guy who got involved.”

“That’s not true! Hyung, I swear on my life I’ve never thought of Dongyul as anyone other than my best friend,” Soobin protests, hands clenching into fists at whatever Yeonjun is implying. “I was never once even remotely attracted to him, and I still don’t think of him that way. Whatever you think is going on between the two of us, just know that it’s purely one-sided on his end.”

“So?” Yeonjun interrupts. “What, do you just go around kissing people you don’t like? That makes me feel so much better about our relationship, doesn’t it?” The sarcastic edge to his voice makes Soobin flinch, hurt glinting off the curve of his eyes, but Yeonjun is too keyed up to care. It infuriates him that all the time he spent locking away his hurt deep in his heart has crumbled to nothing with the mere sight of the other boy, and the last thing he wants to hear is excuses for what happened. The betrayal from that night comes flooding back to his mind, making his fingers tremble with the weight of the emotion. “Hurry up and tell me what you need to say while I’m still giving you my time.”

Soobin swallows again, fingers tapping nervously on the table surface. “Okay, okay. Um, so you know how Dongyul and I were just eating out with some of our mutual friends, right? Well, after I was finished with my first plate, Dongyul asked me if he could talk with me in private. I just assumed that an emergency came up and he wanted to leave without making a scene, so I followed him out the exit and waited for him to tell me what he was going to say.”

“It came out of nowhere. One minute I’m asking him what’s wrong, and the next he’s suddenly kissing me. Hyung, I was so shocked. I couldn’t move, and when I tried to push him off he kept clinging on to my shirt. And then… and then you saw us.”

Yeonjun stews on that for a bit. To some extent he thinks Soobin is being truthful -- maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he doesn’t really want to believe the other was cheating on him the entire time Dongyul was here. And when he looks back at his memories, Soobin did look rather shocked even before he caught eye of Yeonjun’s presence.  

But.

“Okay, so let’s say I believe you,” he starts, catching the way the other boy relaxes the slightest bit. “Dongyul kissed you, you don’t like him, and I just have shitty timing, whatever. That’s still not my only issue with what’s happened this month. What about the time I told you he thinks of you as more than a friend, and you just didn’t listen to me?” 

Soobin frowns. “I’ll admit that I should have thought more about what you said, hyung, but it was really difficult for me to even consider that my best friend since childhood could see me that way. It’s like if I said Taehyun had feelings for you -- you wouldn’t be able to believe that either, right?”

“There’s a difference between Taehyun and Dongyul,” he responds, irritation humming under his skin. “Taehyun don’t stick to my side 24/7, he doesn’t cling onto my arm, and he certainly doesn’t wrap an arm around my waist every single fucking time he sees me. You’re crazy if you think the two are remotely comparable.”

Bright red splotches begin to color Soobin’s cheek, and Yeonjun can sense the other growing frustrated as well. “Well,” he says curtly, before pausing. He seems to deliberate with himself whether or not he should continue, but then he goes on anyway. “What Dongyul does with me isn’t all that different than what you do with other people, right?”

What . 

Yeonjun wants to explode, but thankfully, at this exact moment, a server comes up to them with all their food. She flashes them a quick smile and places two drinks and a platter of assorted bread on the table. 

“Would you two like anything else?” she asks, polite. Yeonjun shakes his head, and once she leaves, he makes a grab for the milk tea so he doesn’t do anything stupid, like throw the entire basket of pastries at Soobin’s head.

“So you’re basically telling me that my words meaning jackshit to you is my fault?” he snaps, after taking a sip of his drink. It was supposed to calm him, but his words come out ten times harsher than he means them to. “Because I’m apparently on the same level of some douche who goes around kissing guys who are already in a relationship?”

“No, fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Soobin drags a tired hand over his face, ignoring whatever was put on the table. “Just. God, why is this so hard for you to understand?” He looks directly into Yeonjun’s eyes. “Remember Wooyoung’s birthday party?”

He nods. 

The other continues. “When we got there, the first thing you did was hug Wooyoung, but it wasn’t --” Soobin’s face creases, like the scene is a struggle to describe, “-- just a normal hug. Hyung, you had your hands on the back of his neck and pressed his forehead to yours, and then you spent the rest of the night by his side because apparently you didn’t want the birthday boy to be lonely, even though he had about twenty other guests.”

The subtle jab rankles him.  “Fuck you,” Yeonjun says, hands clenching the cup in his hand so hard that the plastic gives way under the pressure. The urge to throw his drink in Soobin’s face and walk away dramatically is strong, but Yeonjun refuses to turn the situation into more of a k-drama parody than it already is. “What’s your point in telling me this? You know  Wooyoung and I are close friends, just because I’m touchy with him doesn’t mean--”

Oh. 

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

Soobin watches him as Yeonjun pieces together what the other is trying to say. He gives him a moment to process everything, and when he speaks again, his shoulders slump inward. 

“I’m not trying to say this is your fault,” he says, “and it was wrong of me to dismiss your concerns. But please believe me when I say that I truly couldn’t believe Dongyul would see me as anything other than a friend, and that I never wanted to kiss him.” When he looks up, his eyes are wide and desperate. “The only thing I want right now is my boyfriend back.” 

The wave of guilt washes over him, followed by relief and then by guilt again.

Yeonjun doesn’t know what to feel. He gets it now, gets why Soobin was so reluctant to take his words for what they were. It probably sounded hypocritical for him to complain about Dongyul when he himself clung on to others, but there’s still a sliver unhappiness in his heart. 

He stands up abruptly and grabs Soobin’s hand, pulling him out of his seat and through the cafe door. Ignoring the confused noise the other makes, he drags Soobin to a secluded wall on the side of the building. 

“What are you--”

Yeonjun cups Soobin’s cheeks and pulls him down for a kiss.

For a second, despite his attempts to coax the other to kiss back, Soobin’s lips remain frozen against his. Panic wells up within him, because oh shit what if this wasn’t what Soobin wanted after all, but then the other hugs him tighter against his body and world realigns itself to what is right. 

He pulls away a few moments later, Soobin’s face cradled in his hands. “We’re not doing this again,” Yeonjun says. “No more ignoring each other, no more arguing. I think I’ll die of stress if it does. Understood? ”

Soobin leans forward until their foreheads touch, eyes crinkling in a brilliant smile. 

“Understood.”

“Do you think they’ve made up yet?”

Kai taps nervously on his desk, eyes flickering from Taehyun lying casually on his bed with his phone and Beomgyu curled up next to him. He has no idea how they can be this calm when the fate of their hyungs’ relationship is literally being decided at this very moment. 

“Probably,” Beomgyu responds, eyes not leaving his book. “Soobin-hyung’s usually back by this time, so judging from the way he isn’t physically here, he’s probably at Yeonjun-hyung’s dorm.”

He heaves a sigh of relief, feeling the nervousness that was thrumming in his veins finally subside. When news broke that his hyungs had broken up, he had been torn over how this could have happened. They had just seemed so perfect for each other that them not dating had seemed impossible, and for the weeks they had split, Kai had questioned the existence of true love. The notion hadn’t been helped by Beomgyu’s condescending this has literally been going on for weeks, Kai; either keep up with the drama or stop being nosy either.

In his defense, he had a lot going on the past month-- trying not to fail two of his classes took up a lot of time and energy, okay?

A buzz emits in the quiet room. Taehyun swipes up on his phone and sits up, turning the screen to face the rest of them. It’s a picture of Yeonjun cuddling with Soobin on the sofa, and the text below it reads 'we’re good now! <3 <3'. 

“It’s literally been an hour and they’re already being disgusting,” Taehyun says, grimacing. He gently pushes Beomgyu off his side and stands.

“You’re literally doing the same thing with Beomgyu-hyung,” Kai points out, but the other ignores him and pads over to the innocent baseball bat leaning against the dresser. He grabs it and tests the weight in his hands, which is slightly concerning because Kai does not trust anything particularly dangerous in Taehyun’s palms. Not that the other needs a weapon to be scary. The memory of when Taehyun learned boxing flashes across his mind, and he subconsciously suppresses a shiver.

“Hey, you don’t care if I use this, do you?” the older asks.

Beomgyu tilts his head, confused. “No? I mean, I don’t play anymore so it’s pretty much useless to me. I just keep it around so I can threaten Soobin-hyung into doing the things I want.”

“Good,” Taehyun responds. With the bat in hand, he walks over to the door. His expression is terrifyingly blank, and Kai has a foreboding feeling rise from within him.

“Taehyun?” he calls, worried. “What are you going to do with that?”

The other pauses with his hand on the doorknob. He turns to give him a bright smile, which does nothing except make Kai more concerned. “Nothing much. I’m just going to fucking wreck Dongyul’s car. You know, break all his windows and slash his tires.”

“Taehyun no .”