Chapter Text
If Doyoung thought he had already reached his peak of stupid, he’s proven wrong exactly one month later.
Because no, it’s not enough to just keep this entire shitshow under wraps and confined to the secrecy of him, Yuta, and Jaehyun. He just had to be a functioning human being again, socialize with the friends he hasn't seen properly in forever, and spill all the tea to them in a total ‘head-empty-no-thoughts’ bout of smooth-braining.
“No fucking way.” Ten rocks back in his chair and throws his head back to let out the loudest, most ear-shattering cackle Doyoung’s ever had the displeasure of hearing. “You glued the lever of his toilet to the ceiling ?”
It’s a small blessing they went out for lunch at an odd hour with barely any people around, because something like that would’ve gotten them booted out faster than Yuta can change his piercings. And Doyoung has timed it before. The speed at which Yuta can remove and replace the metal embedded in his body is truly impressive.
“Technically, I did it,” Yuta says, reaching across the table to dump his broccoli onto Ten’s plate. Ten doesn’t even retaliate, with how hard he’s laughing. “Doie just held me up while I did the dirty work.”
“Bullshit, you did the dirty work,” Doyoung grumbles, picking idly at his spaghetti. “I was the one who had to make sure neither of us died in the process. And you’re not exactly light.”
“Aw, don’t do that to yourself, Doie,” Yuta says with mock pity, patting the back of Doyoung’s hand. “No need to lament how you can’t lift your own body weight. We’re not looking for beefcakes around here.”
Heat floods Doyoung’s face as Ten’s obnoxious laughter grows in intensity, and his embarrassment is compounded tenfold when even Johnny cracks a small smile, giggling into his hand. Doyoung needs to find himself a new group of friends. The one he has now all have their sympathy cards expired.
Sicheng reaches over and pats him gently on the arm. “I mean, it could’ve been much worse, right?”
Doyoung almost wants to cry. Thank heavens there’s still one decent person in his friend group. That’s all he needs. Just one person who won’t clown him over his shitty life decisions when all’s said and done.
“Don’t pity him, Chengie,” Yuta scoffs, biting down on an ice cube. The crunch it makes reminds Doyoung of broken bones. “He’s a dumbass. It’s okay, you can say it.”
“Please don’t.”
“We all know it’s true, c’mon, join us, say it. Here, I’ll start.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Doyoung growls.
Yuta ignores him, setting aside his glass of ice and gesturing at Doyoung with exaggerated rolls of his wrists. “Okay, repeat after me, Doyoung...is...a...dumb...ass...mother...fucker.”
“Sicheng—”
“Doyoung is a dumbass motherfucker,” Sicheng chirps with a serene smile.
Doyoung wants to wring Yuta’s fucking neck. And he would too, if Yuta isn’t sitting on the opposite end of the table. Somehow that seating arrangement makes an awful lot of sense now. Ten is wheezing in his chair, one hand clutching at his fork, the other slapping furiously at Johnny, who’s leaning back in his seat with his head thrown so far back all that’s visible is his chin.
“I hate all of you.” Doyoung stabs at a meatball much harder than necessary and hides his wince when the fork screeches against the plate. It doesn’t help much, though. Ten and Johnny are cracking up and Sicheng is having a ball learning the rest of Doyoung’s tragically stupid breakup story from Yuta, who looks all too amused and eager to spill the dirt.
This is when Doyoung has to force himself to take a deep breath and remember that at the end of the day, they’re just a bunch of god-awful people sitting together, being god-awful. Well, except for maybe Sicheng, but Doyoung’s sure it’s nothing a couple more days of hanging out with them can’t fix. Not weeks, because Sicheng is already friends with Yuta and Ten. It’ll only take a couple days until he’s fully comfortable around everyone else to be able to poke fun at Doyoung like the rest of them.
Cruel, heartless bastards.
“But wait, wait, you gotta clear this up for me,” Johnny half-wheezes when he’s recovered enough to talk again. “What happened to the toilet afterwards?”
Doyoung groans. “Goddamnit, Johnny, of the entire fucking story of my breakup and that’s the thing you’re fixated on?”
“What happened to the toilet, Doie?”
“Taeyong got a new one, since he and Taeil couldn’t figure out how to reassemble the old one,” Yuta interjects before Doyoung can find time to flip Johnny off. “Sucks that nobody else here’s into mechanics.”
“You mean plumbing?”
“Do I look like a plumber to you, Johnny?” Yuta deadpans.
Johnny doesn’t have a comeback for that, and Doyoung’s glad he doesn’t, because the toilet topic is dropped, and he doesn’t have to humiliate himself further. It doesn’t last long, though, because Ten is still here, and anywhere there’s Ten, there’s bound to be a slow-growing urge for Doyoung to dig a hole and bury himself in it, phone and all.
“So,” Ten says, in that sweet, airy way that makes Doyoung’s skin crawl. “What’s up with you and Jaehyun now? Are you two dating? Fucking? What?”
“Ten!” Doyoung hisses at the same time Johnny reaches over and claps Ten over the head.
“Don’t be insensitive.”
“I’m just curious!” Ten pouts, rubbing his hair. “And don’t act like you aren’t, Johnny. Everyone wants to know. It’s been what, three, four months now? You’ve gotta fucked at least once.”
“We haven’t done shit,” Doyoung snaps, then clamps his lips shut when he realizes how loud he spoke. He slides down a little in his seat and glares at Ten and his shit-eating grin. “We haven’t done anything. We’re not dating. I don’t want to.”
“I thought you liked Jaehyun.”
“I do.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“He is.”
“Is he treating you well?”
“He always has.”
“Then what—” Ten gestures at Doyoung with a couple flurls of his wrist. “What are you doing?”
What is he doing? That’s a good question that Doyoung thought over way too often and gave up on answering just as many times.
“I dunno, waiting, I guess.”
“For what?”
Doyoung shrugs. What is he waiting for? To fall in love? To know Jaehyun more? Just spending more time with him as friends first? See if they’re even compatible? Hell, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if he even wants to know, because to know exactly what he wants would provide him with a goal, and should he fail to achieve it, Doyoung wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
And Jaehyun doesn’t deserve to be treated like a goal. He’s a person. A person who genuinely cares about Doyoung, and he’ll be damned if things get all technical and he ends up fucking up whatever relationship they have now.
Ten must’ve realized this also, because his expression softens into understanding, and he relaxes back into his seat, one knee drawn up and poking idly at his salad with his fork.
“I see.”
“Of course you do.” It’s a harmless jab, and they all know it. Ten makes a face and Doyoung isn't mature enough to resist the urge to make one back at him. Johnny and Yuta have begun talking about something travel-related, and Sicheng has his nose buried in the dessert menu.
“Oh!” Doyoung pulls out his phone and checks the date. Curses under his breath. “Shit, that just reminded me.”
Yuta turns from his conversation with Johnny. “What just reminded you?”
“Dessert.” Doyoung catches Sicheng’s confused glance over the menu. “Jae invited me out for ice cream today.”
“Ooh, an ice cream date!” Ten squeals. “That’s so cute!”
“It’s not a date.”
“Sure it isn’t.” Ten holds up a hand and begins counting off his fingers. "First, he takes you out to the movies last month, then ice skating, then to a night market, and two weeks ago he just—"
“Aw, let him live.” Johnny shoves Ten playfully in the shoulder and smiles at Doyoung. “Do you need to leave now? Want me to ask for a box to pack up your food?”
Doyoung shakes his head. His plate is about empty, anyways—nothing a couple more bites won’t help polish off. “I’m good. But I’ll have to dip in about fifteen minutes, if that’s cool.”
“Bitch, you can dip now and nobody’s gonna say a damn thing.” Ten bites a tomato off his fork and waves it at Doyoung. “Shoo. Go on your date. Get laid.”
“Leave me alone, Ten.”
“Real talk, though,” Johnny says before Ten could open his mouth again. “How are you feeling, Doyoung? Are you better?”
“I wouldn’t use the word ‘better’,” Doyoung admits, staring down at the last couple strands of spaghetti on his plate. “How low I fell kind of ruined the standard for that.”
“But how are you feeling?”
“Over it.” The spaghetti is cold when it touches Doyoung’s tongue. It still tastes good, though, and he’s not about to be a picky eater. “I’m just kind of over the whole thing. I don’t wanna think about it anymore. And I know you’re all going to clown me for god knows how long, but I’m done with it. Whatever happened, happened.”
Yuta nods slowly, taking a long sip of his martini. “You’re damn right about that.”
Ten smirks and turns to Yuta. “I’m surprised that you of all people didn’t send Taeyong to the hospital.”
“Trust me, I would if I could, but Doie’s too soft to let me do that.”
Doyoung rolls his eyes. "I also don't have the money to bail you out of jail, Yuta. Have you ever considered that?"
“Well, if I were you, I definitely would've at least smashed him with a guitar.” Ten cracks his knuckles. The sound grates the inside of Doyoung’s ears. “Yongie and I are good now, but when I first found out, you have no idea how much I wanted to kill him.”
“Sweet of you to say, Ten.”
“Anything for you, sugar bunny.”
‘Anything, indeed,’ Doyoung thinks as he finishes lunch and takes his time to think about all the people around him.
Johnny’s hair is cropped shorter than before and dyed a pitch black, but his eggplant lasagna recipe is now in Doyoung’s kitchen folder, and they’ve made a date for a gathering at Johnny’s place the following weekend. He still slings his arm around Doyoung’s shoulder when they walk, and still laughs with his entire body.
Ten got a couple new tattoos, all of which are visible from the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing. He bought a new pair of sunglasses, and there’s a bruise on his left elbow that Doyoung just knows came from a stumble in a dance routine. He still calls Doyoung the sweetest names, and has zero respect for his private life.
Sicheng is still sweet (loosely speaking), and recently fixed Doyoung with a ring for his labret when he got tired of the barbell. When Doyoung ended his social purge, Sicheng was one of the top people on his list of contacts, and now he’s almost everywhere Doyoung and his other friends are.
And Yuta is, well, Yuta. Nothing much has changed at all. He still coddles Doyoung and they still argue over petty shit around the apartment, but Yuta no longer watches him with those careful, tired eyes, and all the household objects are back where they belong. His nails aren’t bleeding anymore, and he sleeps a lot better at night. They both do.
It’s been a season and a half. More months than he cared to keep track of, but Doyoung thinks if he took any less time, things wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable as they are now.
So in the end, time did him good.
Time, and the right company.
Jaehyun is waiting at the edge of campus, just like he said he’d be, and for the first time in what feels like years, he’s not wearing a scarf outdoors. The ink covering his neck is clearly visible, the black lines and shading blending into and disappearing under his dark collared shirt. He doesn’t have a gift, nor does he have his sketchbook, but he does smile when Doyoung waves at him, and he waves back.
They walk to a classic-looking diner a block away from campus that Doyoung has frequented before, with the retro 50’s decorations and even a jukebox at the far end. The booth they sit at is a little sticky and has small crumbs in the crack between the back and seat cushions, and the table has menus pinned under the glass.
It’s familiar and lovely, and Doyoung doesn’t realize how much he’s missed it until his order is placed before him and he takes the first bite of sweet, creamy vanilla. Across from him, Jaehyun winks over a mountain of whipped cream, because apparently the man has no consideration of how hard his pancreas has to work.
“So,” Doyoung begins, “How’ve you been, Jae?”
“Alright. Busy here and there, and finals are coming, so not sleeping as much as I should.” Jaehyun scoops a massive amount of whipped cream and toppings into his spoon and shoves it into his mouth. The way his jaw unhinges to accommodate the spoonful makes Doyoung’s face hurt. “How about you, though?”
“I just got clowned over lunch by the heathens I call my close friends, so.” Doyoung shrugs and digs his spoon back into his ice cream.
“You changed your lip ring.”
“Oh. Yeah, Sicheng hooked me up.”
“Looks nice.”
“Thanks.”
Jaehyun licks a dollop of cream on the edge of his lips and plucks a cherry off the top of his sundae. “I think you’re looking a lot better, Doyoung. The ring suits you. Recovery suits you.”
“Well, I had to get here one way or another, right? I can’t just barricade myself in my apartment and rot.”
“I mean, even if you do get all shriveled and moldy, I’d still visit you.”
It’s almost embarrassing how fast Doyoung’s face warms at the backhanded reassurance. He almost forgot how easy it is to get angry at Jaehyun, sometimes. In a weak attempt to save the remainder of his dignity, he scrapes off the most chocolatey bit of his sundae and avoids Jaehyun’s eyes as he eats it.
“How the hell are you real, Jae? Who the fuck even says something like that?”
Jaehyun smiles, teeth stained red from the maraschino cherries. “I’m not perfect, Doyoung. But I’m me, talking like me, and you’re still here.” He pauses. Sucks his teeth a little. “So, what does that say about you?”
Doyoung thinks it over, ice cream melting on his tongue and sugar fizzling in his bloodstream. His entire mouth tastes sweet, so saccharine and sugary over the lump of dark chocolate still dissolving on the roof of his mouth. It’s still a little bitter when he swallows down his mouthful and takes a lick of the chocolate. Jaehyun watches him patiently, cutting into his own sundae and mixing some of the half-melted ice cream into the consistency of soft-serve.
“I think I want to see where this goes,” Doyoung says finally, when all the chocolate has melted down and all that’s left is a pleasant bittersweet. He needs some more ice cream. “You’re a good person, Jae. I like that.”
“I’m glad you do.” Jaehyun takes another bite of his melting sundae. “And you’re very complex, Doyoung. I’m intrigued.”
Doyoung arches a brow. “Am I just some sort of puzzle to you, Jae?”
Jaehyun doesn’t bite. Doyoung never expected him to. “Isn’t everyone?”
“Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours.”
“Too many things,” Jaehyun says, “But also, enough to keep me occupied. Probably more than you’d care to find out, though.”
Doyoung leans in, bolder than he has ever attempted to be with Jaehyun. He stops right when he can see his own reflection in Jaehyun’s eyes.
“Try me, Jae. Try and see what happens.”
“That’s a very polite way of saying ‘fuck around and find out’,” Jaehyun observes, and laughs when Doyoung immediately scowls. “I don’t think we have nearly enough time today, Doyoung. Not for everything, at least.”
It’s an open invitation, and Doyoung isn't nearly blind enough to ignore it. He’s got his contacts in and Yuta at the top of his messaging list. The sun is shining outside and it’s just barely warm by his standards. There will be many more days like this, he thinks. Many more opportunities. Many more chances.
“Then let’s make time, Jae. Whenever you’re free.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Not a date?”
“I dunno, are you comfortable considering it a date yet?”
Doyoung pauses, scooting just a little bit back, until he can look Jaehyun properly in the face again. His expression is nonchalant, but with none of that deliberate blankness. Jaehyun’s eyes are gentle, his lips barely lifted to one side. It’s still a hard expression to read, but Doyoung thinks he’s getting the hang of it.
“No,” he answers, and feels oddly relieved when that fond expression doesn’t change. “But maybe the next one. Or the one after that.”
Maybe.
Jaehyun nods. “Take your time.”
Doyoung smiles, and he feels deep inside him, where his heart beats something warm that pulses throughout his entire body, that for this moment, this is enough.
Him and Jaehyun, right here, right where they’re at. Closer friends than they were before, but not quite close enough to get anywhere else.
One day, Doyoung might have the urge to look at Jaehyun smear whipped cream all over his lips and kiss it away. One day, they might be sharing the same dessert and sit side-by side instead of across from each other. One day, Doyoung might find it in himself again to entrust his heart to someone he can call his .
But for now, as he watches Jaehyun take too big a bite of his sundae and get chocolate sauce all over his chin, Doyoung laughs at the mess and hands him a napkin.