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Donghyuck loves playing beer pong. It feeds right into his competitive spirit and his need to socialise at parties while ensuring he has a steady stream of alcohol at hand. Donghyuck is terrible at beer pong. Alcohol fucks up with his depth perception and he’s usually too preoccupied with making fun of his beer pong partner and/or the other team to care about where the ball goes in.

These are two facts that coexist and that he has learned to accept throughout his college experience. One would think that being part of the university’s football team, known for throwing parties whether they win or lose a match, would have honed his beer pong skills but evidence shows the contrary.

This is his third match of the evening and Donghyuck is still losing. Mark, his current beer pong partner, is completely unbothered by this development, laughing with his whole body whenever Yangyang fails a trick shot that just showcases his flexibility. Donghyuck is just glad that Yangyang’s partner, whose name he can’t remember, is taking the game seriously. If he has to witness Mark and Yangyang’s poor attempts at flirting outside the football field, he deserves alcohol as compensation.

“Fuck!” The ball Donghyuck throws hits the rim of a cup and bounces off the table. He groans as he tracks the movement. Yangyang’s friend giggles at him and Donghyuck is momentarily distracted from his misery by the pretty sound coming out of the prettier man’s mouth.

Donghyuck is usually surrounded by beautiful people but Yangyang’s friend is something else entirely. He has delicate features; sparkly big eyes, a perfect round nose and plush pink lips that glisten under the shitty fluorescent lights of the athletes’ residence.

Swallowing down the instinct to stand next to him and annoy him into getting his attention is perhaps the biggest challenge Donghyuck has had to face tonight, football match included. He redirects his attention to Mark, moving to stand behind him and massaging his shoulders like he’s a boxing coach.

“It’s all on you Mark. You need to get this one so we can throw them off their game and revert the situation,” Donghyuck says in a dramatic voice, rubbing circles on Mark’s shoulders.

“We’re missing five cups and they’re missing just one. I don’t think I can make much of a difference,” Mark responds, shrugging Donghyuck off him. He begins calculating the trajectory of the ping pong ball.

Just as he’s about to throw it, Yangyang speaks up. “Come on, pretty boy. Have some faith in yourself.”

Mark gets so flustered he releases the ball straight into Yangyang’s open hand. His reaction would have been funny if Yangyang hadn’t said it specifically to get them to waste a shot.

“Shame,” Yangyang comments, smiling in a way that showcases all of his teeth, proving he doesn’t actually mean it. “It’s all on you, Renjun-ah. Let’s end it.”

Renjun. Even his name is pretty. It’s so unfair.

Renjun takes a couple of deep breaths and nods at Yangyang, eyebrows set in a determined line. It would be a little intimidating considering he’s the one who put the ball in all the cups, but he’s like barely over 160 centimetres and Donghyuck is already planning their summer wedding in his mind, so the effect is lost.

Yangyang pats Renjun on the back in a comforting gesture though his reaction makes it seem otherwise. He twists his whole body, effectively dislodging Yangyang’s hand and glares at him. His reaction is so much like a disgruntled kitten, Donghyuck suppresses the urge to coo at him or worse, touch him so he can get the same response.

Apparently, Yangyang feels the same, biting down a smile as he holds up his arms. “I forgot. Just throw it.”

Renjun rolls his eyes and takes aim. He shoots. It lands perfectly on the cup with a small splash.

The pair screams in excitement, ending their celebratory ritual in a complex high five.

“Drink up boys,” Yangyang exclaims with a satisfied smirk on his face. Donghyuck groans, annoyed by yet another loss. Mark pats him on the back sympathetically.

“Your turn to drink, Hyuckie.”

He groans even louder, flinging himself into Mark’s shoulders for dramatic effect. “This is horrible! I feel like you guys definitely cheated,” he complains, making sure he’s heard above the music.

“Hey!” Renjun is all burning indignance, eyes wide and glaring daggers at Donghyuck from across the table. It sends a tingling sensation rushing through his body, leaving a burning trace behind. Maybe it’s just the beer making itself known. “Don’t be a sore loser, Donghyuck.”

Hearing Renjun say his name makes Donghyuck realise that feeling was not the alcohol. He quickly realises he will do almost everything in his power to get Renjun to say his name again.

The pair leaves the beer pong table soon afterwards, moving through the house to find Yangyang something to drink. Donghyuck watches them leave. “I’m gonna go get a drink,” he informs Mark once he loses Yangyang and Renjun from his field of vision.

“Um, dude. I don’t wanna like, impose but. Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough?” Mark asks, sounding genuinely concerned even though his eyes are glued to the corner Yangyang and Renjun just vacated.

“You’ll be the best man at our wedding,” Donghyuck says, patting Mark’s shoulder.

He ignores the confused “What are you talking about?” from his best friend, opting to navigate through the party in order to chase after Renjun and Yangyang.

Finding the kitchen is easy enough. Donghyuck may no longer live in the athlete’s residence but his body hasn’t forgotten the space yet, perfectly attuned to the potted plants Ten used to water everyday and the odd pieces of decor Yuta used to bring from his art studio. Finding Renjun and Yangyang among the sea of people is a different story.

Donghyuck is so distracted looking for someone with two-toned hair among the throng of people he doesn’t notice the presence beside him until he feels someone tap his arm.

“Looking for someone?” It’s Renjun, who stares at him with raised eyebrows and an amused smile on his face. Donghyuck feels the way his heart skips a beat before starting again at a faster rhythm than it has been all night. Having a face like that is really unfair, he thinks.

Renjun should know exactly how much emotional damage he causes the universe, walking around with his perfect tiny waist, with his perfect pink lips, his perfect nose and even pulling off a mesh shirt with a yellow tank top underneath, looking like a 90s pop star teenagers would have pasted on their walls. It’s so unfair. Donghyuck has to let him know just how unfair it is.

“You’re a cheater,” he responds after a far too long silence. He’s a little surprised by the wording of his thoughts, but he has probably drunk a whole six pack of beer by himself so he supposes his brain-to-mouth filter could be worse.

Renjun does not spare him the same consideration. “A what? I may have just met you Lee Donghyuck but I will not hesitate to fight you.” He holds his fists up to emphasise his threat but Donghyuck just notices how small his hands are.

“Does it bother you that I called you a cheater, Renjunnie?” Donghyuck asks in a childish tone that he knows will only infuriate the other more, leaning close into his personal space. “I can call you anything you want,” he whispers, making sure he’s still being heard above the music.

The answering scoff only makes Donghyuck grin, moving backwards so he can give Renjun space. Taking advantage of this, Renjun downs the contents of his cup and walks away. He stops once he realises Donghyuck has been following him.

“What, are you my puppy?” Renjun asks, voice mocking.

Donghyuck refuses to examine what the combination of the words and tone make him feel. “If you want me to be,” he responds instead, lips curling into a cocky smile.

Renjun’s eyes grow bigger, clearly caught off guard. The silent surprise satisfies something deep inside Donghyuck and feeds straight into his competitive spirit. Too caught up in his own joy, Donghyuck almost misses the way Renjun walks away, moving towards the more illuminated balcony.

Once again, Donghyuck follows. Moth, meet flame.

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” Donghyuck asks once he gets to see Renjun under the bright light of the streetlamp.

“What, the fact that you’re terrible at beer pong?”

“No, not that,” Donghyuck exclaims, shaking his head. He steps closer into Renjun’s personal space, so close the tips of their shoes almost touch. “Your face.” He lets his fingers graze along Renjun’s jawline. Donghyuck makes sure his touch is feather light, so Renjun can step away at any moment.

He doesn’t.

Renjun holds his breath for the duration of the contact and, from this close, Donghyuck can see the blush flooding his cheeks. It’s hypnotising. It feels better than winning beer pong ever could. Donghyuck wants to find out what else he can do to turn Renjun’s cheeks that exact shade of pink.

A phone call breaks the moment. Donghyuck would dare to say Renjun looks apologetic as he explains he has to go, citing something about his roommate activating the fire alarm while trying to cook ramen. Donghyuck watches him leave, making the mental calculations of what he can do to see him again.

God, Donghyuck is going to make Yangyang suffer so much for not introducing him to Renjun sooner. He will start his evil vengeance plan by breaking into his room at the residence and sleeping for the remainder of the party. If he’s feeling evil enough, he will even steal his fancy Colombian coffee tomorrow morning.

Moving out of the athlete’s residence was the easiest decision Donghyuck has ever made in his life. There are only so many spaces he can share with sweaty college boys before completely losing his sense of smell. Sharing an apartment with Mark and his childhood neighbour, Jungwoo, has reduced his exposure to the horrible mixture of Axe deodorant and football boots that plagued the residence. In return, Donghyuck had to sacrifice something precious: unlimited access to Yangyang’s PS5.

When Donghyuck comes to visit the residence during his free time in an attempt to unwind playing games, Yangyang forces him to beat him at a FIFA match before letting him touch the game’s CD. The first time it had happened, Donghyuck walked out on principle but his unfinished playthrough of Persona got him to yield soon enough.

Now, he’s gotten kind of used to it. Donghyuck refuses to enjoy FIFA out of spite but he does enjoy beating Yangyang’s ass.

“Fuck you and fuck Lewandowski how did you even beat me? I had Messi!” Yangyang screams.

“Doesn’t matter, now go and let me have my alone time with the baby,” Donghyuck answers with a smug smile, cradling the CD box like an actual newborn. Yangyang gives him a look of disgust and stands up in resignation.

Before he climbs the stairs into his room, the door flies open.

“Yang, why didn’t you answer your phone? The boiler in my floor exploded and I refuse to shower in cold water, where is your bathroom?”

It’s Renjun. He looks cuter in the daylight despite his nonstop rant and the annoyed look on his face. Donghyuck thanks whichever higher power made him wear sweatpants before leaving his house instead of the tiny basketball shorts he usually favours on days he doesn’t have class.

Renjun hasn’t noticed Donghyuck sitting on the couch yet, so he indulges in some time to observe him. His drunk mind was not paying him tricks three days ago, Renjun actually is ridiculously beautiful. This fact is only confirmed with how he manages to keep looking good under the horrendous fluorescent lights of the residence, nicknamed by the football team ‘uglifying beams’.

“Oh. Hi. I didn’t know you had company, Yang,” Renjun says once he concludes his rant, eyes landing on Donghyuck. He waves at him in response and is delighted to see the shy smile it elicits from Renjun.

“Who? Donghyuck? Don’t mind him, he’s here to leech off my Playstation,” Yangyang comments, moving towards the kitchen. “The bathrooms are at the end of the hallway on the second floor. You can shower and stay for dinner.”

“You’re cooking?” Donghyuck and Renjun ask at the same time, in a matching tone of bewilderment. Yangyang looks at the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face. Donghyuck tries not to squirm at the scrutiny and refuses to make eye contact with Renjun.

After a stretch of silence that feels eternal to Donghyuck, Yangyang explains: “I’m heating up the food Kun-ge sent us.”

That’s another of the reasons Donghyuck tries to come over to the athlete’s residence as often as he can. Kun’s cooking should be considered a national treasure. Even though neither him or his boyfriend, Ten, attend the university anymore, their self-proclaimed adopted children from the International Students’ Union and football team are almost all concentrated in the athlete’s residence, so Kun keeps sending food over.

“In that case, I’m totally staying. Kun-ge never sends me food because he claims I’m self-sufficient enough,” Renjun complains. “I’ll just go shower, see you at dinner, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck makes a truly embarrassing noise in reaction to the nickname comin from Renjun’s mouth. He exits the game, there is no way he will be focused enough to make any significant progress before Renjun comes back from his shower.

Instead, he moves towards the kitchen, helping Yangyang place all the food in microwave resistant bowls and setting the table. The smell of warm food attracts people from their rooms. Jeno and Chenle come down together even though Donghyuck knows for a fact that the latter doesn’t live in the residence despite being part of the basketball team. Sungchan shows up as well but leaves as fast as he appeared, mumbling something about a date with an exchange student. Jaemin materialises out of thin air. Donghyuck isn’t sure if he has a room in the residence or in the dorms, having seen him in both buildings at odd hours. Renjun shows up last, looking incredibly cosy in an oversized shirt and glasses.

Dinner is an uneventful event. The food is so delicious it has Donghyuck considering ditching his housemates just so he can get to experience the taste of Kun’s home cooked meals more often than once every three weeks. Conversation is fun as well; nobody attacks Renjun with questions like Donghyuck expected, his presence being an occurrence as mundane as his own. They spend the whole time gossiping about professors and making fun of Yangyang for his crush on Mark. It’s wonderful until someone with an inclination for chaos—Chenle, he’s sure—suggests they play UNO.

They move toward the living room, settling down on the floor around the weirdly long coffee table. Donghyuck pretends to check something on his phone so he can make sure to sit next to Renjun, who’s kneeling next to Jaemin.

Renjun looks so surprised to see Donghyuck sitting down next to him, he finds himself scrambling for an excuse. “So I can check you’re not cheating.”

It’s the right thing to say. Renjun rolls his eyes at him and holds up one of his fists, so Donghyuck pretends to cower away. The giggle he gets in return for his antics makes something bloom in him.

For the first time in a long while, Donghyuck plays without any intention to win. He refocuses his competitive drive to a singular objective, as childish as it is: getting a reaction out of Renjun. Thankfully, the UNO gods are in his favour, the majority of the cards in his deck are either to skip a turn or to draw two cards.

Renjun wears every single change of his emotions on his face, he’s so responsive Donghyuck has no trouble focusing solely on him while the game develops. After three rounds, he has collected a plethora of expressions; little huffs of annoyance when Donghyuck blocks Renjun’s next turn, the pursing of his lips whenever he has to draw cards, the sharp glare Renjun shoots him after Donghyuck blocks his turn for the second time in a row.

The intensity of his observation allows Donghyuck to notice something else. Renjun is not a fan of physical touch. He wears his emotions on his face but, in exchange, he keeps himself carefully bubbled from every possible intrusion. When Jaemin attempts to hide his cards, his elbows spread out, grazing the sides of Renjun’s arms. The movement causes him to startle in his seat and shift, almost imperceptibly, away from Jaemin. When Jaemin changes the position of his legs his knee brushes Renjun’s thigh. This time, he doesn’t react to the touch, but he moves further away from an unaware Jaemin.

By the time Chenle demands a rematch for a fourth time, already shuffling everyone’s cards, Renjun’s position on the floor has changed considerably. He’s sitting right next to Donghyuck, so close he can feel the body heat emanating from him. What’s worse, their legs are touching. Usually, this wouldn’t bother Donghyuck who needs physical touch as much as he needs attention, but he has just witnessed Renjun move at the barest hint of contact with someone else for the greater part of an hour.

Donghyuck doesn’t know what would be worse: that Renjun doesn’t realise how close to him he’s sitting or that he doesn’t mind all the points of contact between their legs. Either way, Donghyuck notices, feeling little trails of fire along his thighs, burning everywhere Renjun touches. No matter how much it stings, Donghyuck won’t be the first one to move away.

With his interest in the game already gone, Donghyuck is filled with the sudden desire to test out his theories, see which one of the two options is true.

Renjun is wearing ripped jeans, with holes all over the leg and loose threads hanging off, which facilitates Donghyuck’s task. He doesn’t want to actually make Renjun uncomfortable so he figures playing with one of the threads in his jeans is enough of a compromise.

It’s too casual to be anything but intentional but Renjun is too focused on the game to pay him much mind. Jeno is losing spectacularly and he finally has a window of opportunity. Donghyuck lets his left arm fall to the floor and slowly inches his fingers towards Renjun’s thigh. He curls his fingers in the thread and pulls a little, just so Renjun can feel the tightening of fabric on his skin.

Nothing happens. Renjun keeps his focus on the game, giving no sign of acknowledging the subtle touch. Donghyuck keeps his fingers tangled around the artful mess of thread, pulling and letting go without any constant rhythm. After Donghyuck places a card on the table, he lets his hand fall on top of Renjun’s thigh, making sure to keep the touch light.

This time he does get a reaction. Renjun shifts in his seat, moving imperceptibly closer to Donghyuck’s spot on the floor. Sitting like this, the points of contact between them are more than the spaces where they’re not touching.

Is this the same person who spent the whole night practically flinching whenever Jaemin’s limbs grazed him? Maybe Jaemin hasn’t showered today, Donghyuck reasons. Maybe he also saw Jaemin lugging a huge garbage bag across campus on a Wednesday at 3:33 A.M. while giggling into thin air. Jaemin denied this from ever happening, so Donghyuck was forced to blame it on the lack of sleep from working until late on his Criminal Psychology paper. Maybe Renjun was also in the Humanities Library that day.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts he almost misses the quick look Renjun shoots at him. His head is tilted in curiosity and the tips of his ears are red, burning brighter as he returns his gaze to the deck in his hands. Donghyuck wonders what made Renjun react like this until he becomes aware of his own body. While lost in thought, his fingers have been tracing delicate circles on an exposed patch of Renjun’s thigh.

Donghyuck stops the movement, embarrassed to be caught off guard. As soon as he stops, Renjun pushes his thigh into Donghyuck’s limp hand, a clear, unspoken demand.

Oh. All this time, there had been a third option. Renjun wants Donghyuck to touch him. The realisation feels heady, intoxicating. Donghyuck spends the rest of the night tracing intricate patterns onto the soft skin of Renjun’s thigh, a language only for them to know.

After that night at the athlete’s residence, Donghyuck sees Renjun everywhere. At the convenience store near campus, laughing next to a ridiculously tall man while waiting in line. Sketching something under the shade of the large tree that’s right in front of Donghyuck’s Psychology and Health class. Dozing off in the row in front of him while a guest lecturer explains in detail the benefits of microfinance for an auditorium filled with tired students.

Frequency illusion, Donghyuck thinks when he shows up to the Humanities Library and finds Renjun typing furiously on the spot by the window he claimed as his own during first year. They’re studying in the same faculty and have overlapping friend groups, meeting one another was an inevitability. Donghyuck just wonders why it hasn’t happened sooner.

It doesn’t matter. They’re here now.

“Can I sit with you?”

Renjun startles a little but his demeanour softens once he notices who’s asking the question. “Sure,” he responds, moving his bag so Donghyuck can have space for his stuff.

“Sorry if I broke your focus, you looked very in the zone.” He settles his bag at the end of the table and pulls out his laptop, determined to finish his essay that’s due tomorrow.

“Don’t worry about it, I really needed a break. I can’t analyse traditional Chinese poetry for too long, it makes my brain melt out of my ears,” Renjun answers, waving him off.

“Is that your major?” Donghyuck asks, suddenly reminded of how little they know of one another. Secret touches under a table only tell him the exact shade of pink Renjun’s cheeks turn when he’s pleased, but there’s still so much of him left to discover.

“Actually, I’m majoring in Linguistics. My minor is Chinese Language and Literature.”

“Oh, so you’re pretty and smart.”

Renjun lets out a shocked laugh in response, shaking his head. “And you’re horrible.”

Donghyuck smiles, satisfied and starts on his essay. After scrolling through his phone for a while, Renjun does the same. They work in comfortable silence for what feels like hours, fully focused on their respective assignments. The quiet atmosphere of the library and the warmth emanating from Renjun’s body lull Donghyuck into a state of concentration he can never achieve by himself.

Two hours later, Donghyuck finds himself getting distracted. Be it Renjun’s sunkissed profile, the way his fingers card through his silky hair or the little noises of frustration he makes while reading through a complicated text, all of them seem to demand his attention more than the Google Docs in front of him. When Donghyuck finds himself rereading the same line for the third time, he decides they need a break.

“Hey,” he starts, voice rough from disuse. “I need a break. Want to grab coffee? If not, I can bring you something back as well.”

“A change of air would be great, actually.” Renjun begins to put his stuff away at lightning speed, leaving Donghyuck with limited time to decide where they’re going.

In the end, he decides to go to his favourite coffee shop, just outside campus but at a reasonable distance from the Humanities Library. The weather is perfect for a walk, with a clear sky and a slight breeze. Autumn paints their university orange and Renjun looks delighted by all the colours.

“In a different life, I would’ve studied art,” he confesses, eyes drawn to an old, gnarly tree.

“It suits you.” Donghyuck looks at him, bathed in filtering sunlight among the changing leaves. “Paint covered fingers and tortured eyes, you’d rock it.”

Renjun laughs with his whole body—eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, hands over stomach. He turns a simple action into an experience, Donghyuck can’t look away. Moth, don’t burn.

They get to the coffee shop, a cosy little store filled with plants and quiet chatter and sit down at a table to order. They talk about everything and nothing at all, getting to know each other in between sips of americano and shared bites of a croissant. They never make it back to the library, too caught up in their conversation to notice time passing by outside of their bubble. In the end, Renjun has to run out of the shop to get to a meeting for the nonprofit he’s volunteering at, but before he leaves, he makes sure to insert his number onto Donghyuck’s phone.

As he hears the little bell of the door sign out Renjun’s exit, Donghyuck swears the smell of smoke lingers around him, following him like a brand.

Studying together becomes a regular occurrence after that first time. They carve out spaces for themselves in the library, the coffee shop and even underneath a tree near the computer science labs. They get to know each other between assignments and rushing for deadlines together.

Sharing sleepless nights and what is probably an unhealthy amount of coffee is great, but Donghyuck’s favourite part of their blossoming friendship is when they meet each other just for the sake of enjoying each other’s company. They walk each other to their respective classes, explore the coffee shops near Donghyuck’s apartment and even visit a cat shelter together once.

Renjun has integrated himself into their friend group like he has always been part of it. Technically, he knew all of Donghyuck’s friends before officially meeting Donghyuck himself. He’s been friends with Yangyang since highschool which, by default, means he has met Mark before. He knows Chenle from the International Student’s Union—and, by default, also half the football team—which means he has at leastheard a lot about Jeno. He doesn’t know how Jaemin fits in the equation, when he asked them in a rare moment the three of them were at the residence, Renjun claimed to not know him while Jaemin insisted they were ‘intimately acquainted’.

Details aside, seeing Renjun get along with so many important people in Donghyuck’s life makes him happy. He’s a regular fixture at their bar hopping Saturdays and occasionally joins their bi-weekly board game competitions.

They’re friends. It’s great. It doesn’t stop Donghyuck from feeling his heart race whenever Renjun texts him.

renjunnie
hyuck
wanna go together to yangyang’s bday lunch?
i have errands to run near ur apartment lol

Donghyuck texts an affirmative back after what he hopes is an amount of time that doesn’t reek of desperation. Yangyang’s birthday has unfortunately landed on a weekday and no amount of begging has convinced their coach to skip practice for the day. In the end, Yangyang decided to invite his closest friends to his favourite hot pot place and celebrate at a club on the weekend with the whole team.

Donghyuck only has time to pack his practice gear in a tote bag before Renjun is knocking at his door.

“Why aren’t you dressed up?” Is the first thing he hears when he opens the door.

“Hi Renjunnie, so nice to see you,” he says in a fake bright tone, moving backwards so Renjun can step into his apartment. “And I’m dressed up, I’m wearing jeans and a sweater. It’s just that the team jacket doesn’t fit in my bag and I don’t want to freeze after practice so I have to put it on,” he explains, letting the jacket fall from his shoulders.

He really did try his best to look dressed for the occasion, it’s not Donghyuck’s fault that his closet consists exclusively of sweatpants and loose tees or slutty club outfits. He’s pretty sure the sweater he’s wearing belongs to Mark. Besides, comparing his half-assed attempts to look dressed up with Renjun’s outfits, who always looks like he could be part of a season-appropriate magazine shoot, is a lost cause.

Renjun makes an appreciative noise, giving Donghyuck’s outfit an appraising look.“Well, I just hope the rest of the team doesn’t think the same, I’d hate for us to look like a cult.”

“If you want to join the football club so bad you should’ve just said it, I’m sure Mark can talk to the coach to squeeze you in,” Donghyuck teases. Renjun gives him an unimpressed stare that makes his heart beat faster than usual.

“I’d rather sit through a three hour physics lecture than step near the football field,” he declares. “I think the sweat and axe mix would make me break into hives. Besides, why would I willingly run after a ball for ninety minutes, like an idiot—” Renjun launches into a passionate rant insulting sports, athletes and going on tangents about how there are better ways to promote team spirit. Donghyuck thinks he’s a little fucked up for finding it hot.

“You’re right,” Donghyuck says, cutting him off before he has a further chance to examine this particular train of thought. “You can also be right at the restaurant, if we don’t leave now we’re gonna be late.”

“Isn’t Mark coming as well?”

“He left early in the morning to surprise Yangyang with breakfast before classes.” Renjun makes a sour face at the newfound information. “I know. He does everything but ask Yangyang to be his boyfriend. He’s pathetic.” Donghyuck has repeated this speech multiple times, almost all of them to Mark’s own face.

He grabs his bag and moves towards the door, Renjun in tow. One of the many perks of Donghyuck’s apartment is the proximity to a bus stop. They walk in comfortable silence enjoying the quiet atmosphere right before lunch hour. The bus is a couple minutes late so they stand right next to the sign to wait. It’s a chilly morning, foggy—or, more likely, smoggy, considering it’s Seoul—and grey in a way that’s characteristic of late October. Renjun shivers next to him, nose turning a delightful shade of pink.

“Not that the Steve-Jobs-if-he-slayed look doesn’t suit you, but you could’ve asked me to borrow a coat.” Donghyuck thinks the knitted black turtleneck and black slacks suit Renjun to an almost ridiculous degree, it’s just not the most weather appropriate outfit.

“I don’t trust the fashion sense of someone who willingly wears their football jacket for someone’s birthday celebration, I’m good,” Renjun responds.

Donghyuck wouldn’t use the word good to describe Renjun’s current state. His hands are shoved deep in the pocket of his pants, his lips are chapped and the tips of his ears are bright red. Cold would be a better adjective. Cute might be the most precise option.

The arrival of their bus saves Donghyuck from making a vocabulary decision. They spend the duration of the ride holding onto the rails, standing so close together Donghyuck can smell the floral scent radiating from him.

Every once in a while Renjun leans closer to him, tilting his head upwards to whisper in his ear a critique of other people’s outfits. Every time it catches him off guard. The hot breath against his ear, the accentuated height difference (Donghyuck has just found the motivation to fix his posture problems, seeing Renjun on his tiptoes does the trick faster than any chiropractor ever could), the unconscious smile Renjun shows whenever he steps backwards again.

It’s too much.

Donghyuck just hopes Renjun interprets the speed at which he exits the bus as him worrying about being late, not him being a flustered mess over their close proximity. They’re the last ones to arrive but only because the rest of their friends are ridiculously punctual.

Greetings are exchanged and Donghyuck is introduced to Dejun and Guanheng, two friends of Yangyang who he has only seen through Instagram stories. The hostess assures them their table is about to be ready so they remain filling up the reception area.

“I know I already said this over text and that Mark already gave you the present on behalf of the football team but, again, happy twenty two, Yangie.” Donghyuck hugs his friend, squeezing tightly before letting go. “I also want you to know that the only reason why I didn’t walk in belting Taylor Swift is because Renjun would’ve killed me before I got the chance to try the hot pot.”

Yangyang laughs and thanks him, turning his body so he can greet Renjun properly. Actually, get greeted by Renjun is a more accurate description considering the bone-crushing hug he gives the taller man.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbles.

“My yearly Huang Renjun hug,” Yangyang says, smiling all gummy and delighted. “I feel stronger already.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Renjun replies, glaring at Yangyang. “I give hugs.”

The whole group erupts in laughter, which causes Renjun to pout. “Junnie, you only give hugs when you’re wasted,” Dejun comments.

“You’re a little clingy when drunk but actively reject touch when sober,” Guanheng adds, with the air of someone who knows exactly what they’re talking about. The idea of him being an expert in all things Renjun makes something twist in Donghyuck’s stomach.

“That’s such an exaggeration!” Renjun exclaims. He’s cut off from starting a fruitless defence by the hostess coming back and guiding them to their table.

Lunch is a loud affair. They end up in a large, circular table that is definitely too small for a party their size but they make it work. Donghyuck ends up sitting in front of Renjun, which is always a welcome distraction from the boisterous conversation happening at the table. Dejun and Guanheng make the noisy group even noisier, bringing even more stories to publicly embarrass Yangyang.

Overall, it’s a wonderful afternoon with good food and even better company. Donghyuck loves moments like this, where his belly is full and his heart is content. Moments where he’s surrounded by people he trusts celebrating someone important to him. What he likes most is being able to lift his gaze to the front and find Renjun, making himself smaller while eating to avoid bumping elbows with the others, reflecting the same joy he’s sure is evident on his own face. It magnifies the blooming feeling in him, the one that’s been growing painfully since the morning.

Lunch is only over after their server, who had made a deal with Chenle while Yangyang was in the bathroom, brings out a tiny cake with a thin candle stuck in the middle and all the waiting staff to sing Yangyang happy birthday in Mandarin. The whole table sings like they’re competing over who has the loudest volume and Mark, Jeno, Jaemin and him forget the thirty minute lesson where Chenle taught them the correct pronunciation of the song on his birthday last year. Donghyuck thinks the turned heads of the other customers are worth the embarrassment, if only to see Renjun struggling to keep a straight face while finishing the song.

After the exercise in public humiliation, Yangyang demands to walk around the park to feed the local ducks and digest the food before practice. Sadly, Dejun, Guanheng, Jaemin and Chenle have to leave for classes so, in the end, it’s just five of them bracing the sudden cold weather and the changing leaves.

“Look! I see your ducks!” Jeno yells excitedly.

Mark rushes to one of the vendors nearby to buy duck-appropriate food that he then hands out to everyone. They spend some time luring out the animals with food so Renjun can get an Instagram worthy shot of them. It works; Yangyang holds a piece of lettuce above one duck’s head and Renjun manages to capture the pretty angle of the animal’s head on his phone. The second after the picture is taken, the duck gets pissed off and starts flapping its wings aggressively, chasing Yangyang around the park. Donghyuck laughs so hard at the scene he tears up and Renjun captures it all on video, Jeno’s muted laughter and Mark’s concerned yells of advice included in the footage.

All in all, they have a wonderful time but as the afternoon turns colder, they realise they have to leave for football practice. They walk throughout the park side by side in order to get to the bus stop while Yangyang recounts a story about his German class that only Mark finds funny. Jeno is kind enough to pretend to listen but Donghyuck takes the opportunity to chance a glance at Renjun, only to find him trying to shove his hands as deep into his pants pockets as they can go while he grits his teeth to keep them from chattering.

The scene makes Donghyuck frown. “I told you you’d be cold,” he reproaches. “You should’ve just borrowed a coat from me.”

“And I told you, don’t trust your fashion sense. Besides, I’m fine,” Renjun retorts, taking his hands out of his pockets as if to prove his point. Donghyuck makes a face at him.

“That’s Renjun speak for ‘I’m fucking freezing’,” Yangyang adds, stopping his story and halting his step altogether. He takes one step towards Renjun and opens his arms as wide as possible. “Come on, babe, I’ll keep you warm.”

Donghyuck doesn’t know who looks more offended by his choice of words, Renjun or Mark. At least the latter tries to hide it. “I don’t care if it’s your birthday, touch me and I’ll throw you to the lake.”

“You don’t have the arm strength,” Donghyuck points out matter-of-factly. When Renjun turns around to glare at him, he opens his mouth in fake shock, holding his fist to his teeth. It elicits a giggle out of him so Donghyuck smiles, satisfied.

“Don’t worry, we're almost at the bus stop. I’ll suffer when I have to walk from my 7 p.m. seminar to my dorm but that’s a problem for future-Renjun to handle.”

Donghyuck tries to let it go, he really does, but Renjun’s words keep rattling around his brain while they ride the bus to their university. It’s a chilly October day and it seems like the day will only get colder. He can’t imagine how cold it will be by the time Renjun is done with his two hour seminar.

They arrive at their stop shortly after and the change in temperature when they exit the bus makes Renjun give a full body shiver. He shoots off Jeno’s concerned look with a quiet “I’m fine” and leads the walk to their university’s entrance.

Once they reach a large tree they begin to exchange their goodbyes; Renjun intends to wait for his class to start at the Humanities Library, which is on the other side of campus from the football field. While Renjun is making dinner plans with Yangyang, Donghyuck takes off his jacket. He doesn’t feel much difference, his body temperature always runs a couple degrees above average and the wool sweater he’s wearing ensures he preserves that warmth.

“Renjun!” he calls out, stopping him from leaving. Once Renjun is standing in front of him, Donghyuck drapes his football jacket over his shoulders. He steps closer into the other man’s space and begins to zip it up properly, refusing to meet Renjun’s eyes. Renjun puts his arms into the sleeves, a silent acceptance that shouldn’t cause Donghyuck’s heart to speed up like this.

The jacket is big on Donghyuck but Renjun looks like he’s drowning in the fabric. His shoulders completely disappear, the sleeves so long only the tips of his fingers can be seen. Donghyuck fixes nonexistent wrinkles near the collar, just so he has an excuse to keep touching Renjun. He takes a look at Renjun’s face, the faint pink dusting his cheeks while he averts his gaze, staring at a fixed point in the distance. Donghyuck wants his eyes on him, at all times. He takes a step back before he does something stupid to recover his attention.

The distance doesn’t help the flames burning Donghyuck up from the inside. It’s like the air between them just fans the fire further. Donghyuck never thought he was a possessive person but seeing Renjun drowning in his team’s colours, with his number and name emblazoned on the back does something to him.

“Thanks, now I’m doomed to look like a loser for the rest of the day while you’re condemned to freeze to death.” Renjun’s words don’t match his actions, he examines the fit of the jacket and makes small adjustments so it looks better on him.

“I have my team jacket in my bag, I can lend Hyuck my coat,” Mark answers, not once looking away from a silent conversation with Yangyang that involves dramatic eye movements.

“So you’re saying I look like a loser?”

Renjun’s question makes Mark break eye contact as he stutters to come up with an explanation. In the end, Jeno comes to his aid. “You look… branded,” he replies carefully.

The choice of words makes Donghyuck choke on air. At least Renjun looks equally flustered, he widens his eyes and balls his hands into fists, scrunching up the sleeves in the process. “Ha. Well. It beats being part of a sports club,” he retorts and winces, like he’s dissatisfied with the words coming out of his mouth. “Um… I have to go, I need to finish reading something before my seminar, bye!” he adds, without giving anyone the space to respond.

They watch him go in stunned silence, nobody willing to make the first move to break the stilled atmosphere. Mark is the first one to give in. “Dude—”

“Not. A. Word.” Donghyuck warns, jabbing his finger into each one of his friends’ chest after each word. He lets the silence sit for a while before he clasps his hands together, making a sound louder than he had intended. “Let’s go, we’ll be late to practice.”

Donghyuck is distracted during the entirety of practice but, as promised, his friends don’t comment on it. His thoughts are plagued with unrestrained laughter and silky, long hair glistening in the afternoon sun. Whenever he runs past the midfield line, ball at his feet, he catches a distinct floral scent mixed with the smell of smoke that’s been lingering around him for weeks.

When he takes his shirt off after practice, he swears he sees in the mirror the six from his uniform inked into the skin of his back. Branded, his brain supplies. He suppresses a shiver and steps into the shower. Once he’s done and the steam from the locker room dispels, he checks the mirror and finds his back looking the same as usual, tan skin littered with delicate moles. Donghyuck swallows down a sensation too close to disappointment for his liking and heads home.

Football playoff season is coming to an end and, with it, the end of the year. It’s the weekend before Reading Week at their university or student’s last window of freedom before they’re drowned in exams. Usually the barren trees and the grey sky that promises snow but never delivers add a layer of desperation to the end of the semester, but this year feels different.

Donghyuck can’t help it; he sees space waiting to be filled in the empty branches and a mixture of different colours so bright they paint the sky white. He’s a summer baby through and through but this time Donghyuck feels like he’s carrying a piece of the sun with him, tainting everything golden around him. Maybe it’s the intensity from practice or becoming one with his team to execute a complicated goal or the cheers from the crowd. If he’s being honest with himself, it’s something else entirely.

It’s filling his free time with walks around town just to take pretty pictures of the sky with someone by his side. It’s having a pair of eyes watching him while he practices, just so they can enjoy a couple of shared minutes on the way to the university’s dorms. It’s marathoning ninetys rom-coms on Friday nights, squeezed together on a single bed that gives Donghyuck enough room to express his affection through wandering fingers.

Unfortunately, Donghyuck has no time to be honest. They’re playing their last game of the qualifiers against the team that is right above them in the standings, which means that whoever wins the match secures a spot in the national university-level tournament. No big deal. He wishes he could shut off the Renjun-sized portion of his brain so he could focus solely on the game, but he’s also grateful that it gives him the opportunity to ignore the mounting pressure of today’s match.

Instead of thinking about how the other team’s right midfielder—the guy Donghyuck has to mark for the entirety of the game—is always mentioned when articles discuss the best player of the playoff season, he can wonder why Renjun hasn’t given him his team jacket back. Instead of fixating on the fact that this will be Mark’s last tournament with the team, Donghyuck can worry about why he can’t see Renjun and his roommate in the bleachers next to Chenle and the rest of their friends. Instead of focusing on the rival university’s block of students booing them from the bleachers when they enter the field to warm up, Donghyuck can stare intensely at his cellphone to try and force Renjun’s “I’m here” text to arrive faster.

It’s a peculiar tradeoff but it works. Donghyuck barely registers his coach’s overly emotional pregame speech, next thing he knows the referee’s whistle is blowing and Jeno is kicking the ball towards him to start the game. After that it’s all a blur of motion: the ball at his feet; running across the entirety of the field just so he can secure a pass; anticipating his team’s intentions, something that comes to him as naturally as breathing, and the other team’s attack, which requires all of his brain’s capacity.

They end the first half in a draw, scoreboard lit in a painful 1-1. Donghyuck tries not to take it personally, but as a defending midfielder it’s difficult to stop focusing on the places he should’ve covered to avoid the ball from crossing the halfway line. He makes the mistake of looking into the crowd for the comfort of familiar faces, finding instead a one-man void that hurts more than it should. It’s not like Renjun has any obligation to see the football match but his absence, considering he’s a person who values the act of making time for someone else and a friend who understands how important this match is for Donghyuck, stings.

“He’ll show,” Mark says, appearing from somewhere behind him. “Come on, I need you to tell me everything that went wrong with our defence.”

Donghyuck follows, no longer caring about the transparency of his emotions. He’ll get wasted with his team today to celebrate their win in the second half and tomorrow he’ll force Mark to watch Love, Rosie again while they nurse their hangovers.

The team discusses their weak points and their strengths in the first half, coming up with a renewed strategy and potential changes in the lineup. They decide on switching Yangyang for Sungchan, trusting the striker’s ability and chemistry with Mark to create opportunities for scoring.

They head back into the field with newfound confidence, striding as one into their positions. Donghyuck doesn’t look once towards the audience, giving his undivided focus to the ball in front of him. The other team starts the second half but Donghyuck is able to steal the ball from them, changing the play’s trajectory.

The game is neck and neck. For every ball midfielders manage to steal, the rivals block the play with their defensive lines. The first forty minutes of the second half are a test of endurance, seeing which team can hold on the longest before cracking. When the clock indicates 86, Jeno passes the ball to Donghyuck. He doesn’t think, he just runs.

The speed and element of surprise help him shake off the guy in charge of marking him. The wind is whizzing in his ears, the ball acting like an extension of his body, everything moves with a single minded direction: forward. When the right-wing defence heads his way, Donghyuck changes direction abruptly, kicking the ball further away and trusting his body will be close enough to follow. As he gets closer to the penalty box, the left-wing defence stops following Mark and heads his way. It takes Donghyuck every footwork trick he knows to remain in control of the ball with three people marking him. There’s only one thing left to do.

Donghyuck angles the ball carefully, hitting it with the inside of his foot so it can curve upwards, away from the rival players. The ball descends in a perfect arc, a couple of metres away from the goal but directly into Mark’s hitting range. He headbutts it gently, angling it towards the left goal post. He scores.

The cheers are deafening, both inside and around the field. The team gathers around Mark, patting him aggressively on the back and hugging him in congratulations. Donghyuck gets his own share of praise and over-excited touches. He feels electricity buzzing all around him, adrenaline and relief shared with ten other bodies.

“Now, we just hold on,” Yangyang commands, smiling with a predatory glint.

“We got it.” Jeno exchanges a fist bump with Jaemin, who smiles even wider, showcasing all his perfect teeth.

“Let’s go!” Jaemin yells, which gets the team moving again, towards their positions. The referee gives three additional minutes, which means they only need to keep their 2-1 score for four minutes in order to win. No big deal.

The other team goes all out for the remaining minutes of the game. They play solely on their own side of the field, eleven players serving as defence for the ten attackers. Despite the full defensive tactic, there are some shots that get dangerously close to the goal. If it wasn’t for Yuto, their goalkeeper, the match would have been over for them fifteen seconds after the ball left the halfway line.

Somehow, against all odds, they hold on. The referee blows the whistle and it’s over, they officially make it into the tournament.

Loud cheering, celebratory hugs and tackles to the ground are exchanged. Everyone gathers around Mark, their top scorer, who finalised the two goals of the night. Yangyang hugs him as well, a weirdly charged gesture that lasts longer than a congratulatory hug should. Jaemin makes retching noises until they break apart, both beet red and pretending like nothing happened.

They begin to move towards the locker rooms, chatting among them about the game, eleven people who become one under the stadium’s lights. Donghyuck feels weirdly emotional. As they get closer to the bleachers, the cheers of the crowd get louder. People—presumably friends of the players—are standing around the field, waiting to extend their congratulations. Amongst them, Sungchan and the other benched players are standing ready to hand them their team jackets so they can brave the cold once the adrenaline leaves their body.

Donghyuck is acutely aware of the absence of his own jacket. He wants to go to the locker rooms and change as fast as possible, unwilling to be sober for a second longer than he needs to.

Unfortunately, Mark Lee has other intentions. “Yo, Hyuck, come here! The guys want to congratulate you!” He treads over to where they are standing in a small circle, all of them wearing the team’s green colour. Renjun was right, we really do look like a cult.

“That’s not the face someone who practically built this match’s winning goal should be making.” Renjun is standing in the middle of the circle, wearing his team jacket and staring at him with a shy smile on his lips.

“You— I thought you didn’t make it,” Donghyuck explains in wonder, moving his hands to touch Renjun, to make sure he’s real, before stopping halfway. Renjun doesn’t flinch away from his touches but he never initiates them either, getting particularly prickly in public settings. In the end Donghyuck decides to softly wrap his fingers around Renjun’s wrist, pulling him away from their friends’ curious eyes and catcalls.

Once they’re an adequate distance away, Donghyuck lets go. Almost immediately he regrets it, craving the comfort of physical touch again. He chooses to be a little bit selfish and wraps their pinkies together, softly enough that Renjun can easily pull away if he wants to.

The sleeves of the jacket are so long they graze Donghyuck’s hand. He feels dizzy. Renjun twines their fingers tighter. He continues their conversation. “Of course I wouldn’t have missed this game, I know how important it was for you. I was only late because nothing I owned matched the horrendous green of your jacket. And I left the seats before halftime to buy food without suffering the lines, I lost rock paper scissors.”

It’s so unfair. Renjun can’t say things like that while wearing Donghyuck’s uniform, a loud statement without actually saying anything. He looks extra small, drowning in clothes that aren’t his own while still looking ethereal. “Ha. You care about me? Loser.”

Donghyuck’s voice shakes a little at the last word but he manages to look Renjun in the eyes. The affection in them is a tangible thing, burning so bright it makes Donghyuck blush. He blinks and Renjun’s lips are on his, creating a different type of heat that burns him from within. He has soft lips and is a demanding kisser, another contradiction to be added to the list of dichotomies that make up Renjun. Donghyuck is more than happy to have him lead the kiss, letting him explore his mouth with insistent swipes of his tongue that make him weak at the knees.

A loud note from a vuvuzela startles them into breaking apart but they remain close enough to touch, unwilling to put distance between them. Donghyuck feels like there’s too much happiness contained inside his body. “Oh, you kiss boys? Loser,” Donghyuck says between giggles, tracing patterns into the back of Renjun’s hand.

Renjun hits him for his comment but he uses the hand that is not being held by Donghyuck, so he considers it a win. “Go shower, you stink.” The words barely finish leaving Renjun’s mouth before Donghyuck is kissing him again. The taste of his lips against his own is sweet, the cherry on top of the victory they scored today. He thinks he may have found a new motivation to win the tournament, one that he’s unwilling to share with the rest of the team.

The celebratory party is a loud mess, as usual. The athlete’s residence is packed to the brim with people, loud bass making the walls thump to the beat. Donghyuck is, once again, playing beer pong with Mark, Renjun and Yangyang.

He wasn’t planning to join the game, content to spend the entire night staring at Renjun with gooey eyes until it was socially acceptable to take him back to his apartment. Yangyang had taken one look at the self-satisfied smirk on his lips when Renjun had to lean his head upwards to press a quick peck into his mouth before they entered the residence and declared: “You need to be humbled.”

Thus, beer pong.

Thankfully, Renjun is in his team, which means the point difference isn’t that large and that Donghyuck gets to pass his complete lack of skill as a way to make him laugh. They’re playing against Mark and Yangyang who are an unsurprisingly good mix. Who would’ve thought Mark’s a decent player when there’s someone he wants to impress.

“We’re never teaming up, ever again,” Renjun mutters as he downs yet another cup of cheap beer. There are two cups left on Mark and Yangyang’s side of the table while they have only one left but it’s their turn, which means that, if the two of them score, they win. “Let’s make a bet, Hyuckie.”

Renjun is looking at him with a twinkle in his eyes that means trouble. He’s still holding the cup, pushing the rim against his lower lip. Donghyuck can’t do anything but follow. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay!” Renjun puts down the cup and claps excitedly. Donghyuck regrets agreeing, just a little. He beckons Donghyuck to come closer, making him bend down a little so Renjun can whisper in his ear. “If you get the ball in I’ll let you fuck me in your jacket. Deal?”

Donghyuck’s brain short circuits. His thoughts are pulled in multiple directions, mainly Am I really that obvious? and Would it be in bad taste to drop to my knees right now?

“Deal,” he answers, blushing at the breathy quality of his voice. Renjun smiles, satisfied and pushes him away, so he can take his position in front of the table.

Donghyuck breathes in and out in an attempt to relax, gripping the ping-pong ball in his hand so tight it’s a miracle it doesn’t dent. He begins angling his wrist in a poor attempt to calculate the trajectory of the ball. It should be easy. It’s like football except the ball is lighter and you use your hands and the ball can’t touch the ground. Easy.

“C’mon Hyuck, just throw it, let’s get it over with,” Yangyang complains, shifting in place. Donghyuck closes his eyes for a second and prays to whatever horny deity is out there. Sorry I scratched Jaemin’s sweetener vinyl, if I score I promise I’ll stop leaving only the strawberry flavour candy in his secret snack stash.

He aims, mindful of his elbow and lets go. He watches the perfect arc the ball makes over the table and sees it fall. It bounces on the cup’s rim and falls inwards, landing on the beer with a satisfied splash.

Renjun cheers from beside him, a brilliant smile adorning his face. He grabs Donghyuck by the sleeve of his sweater and wraps him in a tight hug. “Oh no, I lost the bet,” he whispers in a tone that shows no ounce of regret. He unwraps his arms once he’s done talking, grabbing the ball from a flustered Donghyuck’s hand and throwing a perfect shot.

From across the table Mark lets out a dramatic groan. “So not fair. Since when does getting a boyfriend make you automatically good at beer pong?”

“Is that why you guys lost?” Renjun asks, moving towards them to give them the remaining cup.

Donghyuck notices how he didn’t deny Mark’s title of ‘boyfriend’, causing sparks to travel through his spine. That’s a conversation for future-Donghyuck to handle. For now, he will abuse the conclusions his best friend has arrived at.

“Oh my god, Mark,” Donghyuck exclaims, making his eyes go dramatically round. “Do you realise what this means? Mark, I got a boyfriend before you.”

This is a constant point of conversation whenever they have a roommate movie night with Jungwoo. Whenever they begin to pressure Mark into confessing his feelings to Yangyang and make fun of him for wasting time he always responds with:

“I’ll do it when I’m ready, I’m gonna have a boyfriend before Hyuck, that’s for sure.”

His certainty was never unfounded; Donghyuck’s last serious boyfriend was with a pretty boy from dance club during his first year of university, Kang Hyunggu. They lasted two whole months before realising they were better off as friends who hooked up occasionally. Considering Donghyuck wasn’t actively looking for a relationship, Mark treated his potential boyfriend as an ultimatum for his confession that he believed would never come.

Seeing Mark understand what Donghyuck means by his words is a hilarious succession of events. Eyes widening into impossible circles. Jaw falling slack. Head turning to look at Yangyang with something akin to determination. Head turning to look at Donghyuck with something close to fear.

“Go,” he mouths. Mark nods and whispers something, meant only for Yangang to hear. They disappear to the second floor, towards the room area.

“Finally,” Renjun comments. “How did you know that would make Mark spur into action? Nothing I said to Yangyang ever worked.”

“It was a promise he made with himself.” He pauses, letting the words float into the air. “And, coincidentally, something I knew would at least get him out of my apartment for the night.”

Renjun rolls his eyes but leans closer into his space, wrapping his fingers around Donghyuck’s sleeve. “So… should we go?” He lets his head rest against Donghyuck’s back, making no move to exit the party.

“Wow, Injunnie, you really get clingy when drunk.” He doesn’t mind at all, welcoming the warmth of another body. Like this, it feels like they will burn together, twin fire flames.

“It’s not that, I didn’t even drink that much. I know you like… touch. It’s how you show you care.” Renjun inhales sharply, like it’s difficult for him to get the words out. “I just— I want to give that back to you.”

Donghyuck can’t help it, he kisses him. He appreciates Renjun trying to speak a language that isn’t familiar to him just because he knows it’s important to Donghyuck more than words could ever express. Donghyuck doesn’t even try, opting to show him instead, through a timeline of actions that move them across the night.

Rubbing circles into his hand while they walk towards the bus stop. Hooking their ankles together when they’re sitting in the bus, leaning his body in a way that would make his chiropractor furious just so he can rest his head on Renjun’s shoulder. Kissing him breathless in the elevator, relishing in the way the confined space maximises every needy moan Renjun exhales against his mouth.

Tracing Renjun’s body with his fingertips, reverent. Searing the paths he discovered with his mouth, licking and sucking, creating a spit and bruise map only for him to follow. Working him open with a patience Donghyuck never shows in his everyday life, used only to elicit breathy pleas from Renjun and demands to Get on with it, c’mon baby, I’m ready. Folding the jacket so the zipper doesn’t hit Renjun’s thighs with every thrust. Flipping Renjun over once he’s close just so he can see his face while he comes undone under him.

All these discordant touches and actions coming together into a singular melody singing out the same thing:

I like you. I want to try for you as well.