Chapter Text
It’s a fitful night. The bed is soft and warm and he’s tired to the bone but Donghyuck’s brain goes around and around. It jumbles up and spreads around like colors in a kaleidoscope while Donghyuck tries desperately to twist the image into something he understands.
Johnny stays on his side of the bed and Donghyuck is aware of every twitch, every minor adjustment. At one point Johnny’s hand is treading the careful line of half-way and Donghyuck stares at it in the grainy darkness before turning his back and shoving it out of his mind. Too preoccupied to sleep well, he’s running in circles like a bad idea. Time passes too slow.
Would you…?"
Donghyuck really doesn’t know.
When he does close his eyes, his dreams are pointed. Soft whispers and warm hands in his hair, faces he recognizes, large smiles, a too-big camera, ink on a hip bone. By the end of the dream there’s a garden on Donghyuck’s back and a kiss on his shoulder.
Johnny wakes up too early. The slightest movement wakes Donghyuck up from his worrying, and he resolutely pretends to be asleep until Johnny shimmies out of the bed and leaves. It’s a long process. Johnny isn’t in a rush to get anywhere. He sits up and checks his phone and sighs. He pauses. He runs a hand through Donghyuck’s hair —
If Donghyuck were any less tired he’d react too big. As it is, he just sighs and nuzzles further into the pillow. It’s another long moment before Johnny finally walks into the bathroom. By the time he walks out again, Donghyuck is already asleep.
Someone is cooking eggs. Donghyuck knows this because he is usually the one cooking eggs — he knows that smell and sounds and sizzle. He pries open one crusty eye and sees an unfamiliar bedroom. The sheets are tangled around his legs and his mouth tastes like a bad decision. There’s the slight smell of whisky, and when he groans and sits up he realizes it’s emanating from Johnny’s clothes stuck in a pile on the floor.
Donghyuck is in their apartment, he thinks suddenly. Him and Johnny shared a bed. Him and Johnny almost kissed. And then he pried his ribcage open and said hey man, you don’t really like me and I’m delicate. So embarrassing.
Someone is singing something sweet in the kitchen, and Donghyuck scrambles to untangle himself. His bare feet are too cold on the floor and the shirt hangs too loose around his shoulders. There are goose bumps on his legs — they keep it way too cold here, for the winter — and he pulls the shirt lower over his thighs as he pushes open the door.
It’s Taeil singing. Donghyuck knew that it would be. He could recognize Taeil anywhere. He sounds like an angel. His voice is thick and tired, a little scratchy, it’s so early in the morning. It’s perfect. Donghyuck thinks he might still be dreaming.
Johnny is standing in the kitchen with his back to the bedroom. There are pants slung low on his hips and a hoodie tossed over his shoulders, unzipped. His sleeve is too long and it dips in the butter as he flips the eggs over with a pair of chopsticks. He looks tired and smells like aftershave, but when he looks at Donghyuck he just smiles tightly and says a small, “Good morning.”
Taeil twists in his seat, smile wide. “Hyuck-ah. About time you woke up, huh? All the old people have been up for hours.”
“Age before beauty,” Donghyuck murmurs, confused. He shuffles into the room and throws his arms over Taeil’s shoulders, burying his face in the warmth of Taeil’s nape. His lips brush skin. He feels Taeil melt, just a little. A sway, just enough, to let Donghyuck do what he wants. “Why are you here?” he mutters into the wild tufts of Taeil’s hair.
Taeil plays with Donghyuck’s pinkie finger, idle. “I was worried about you,” he says. “My booty call didn’t go the way I intended.”
Donghyuck huffs out a laugh. “I’m a lady.” He tucks his chin on Taeil’s shoulder. “I need a big, strong man to worry about me, every once in a while.”
Johnny smiles too big, cracking an egg into the skillet. His hair is a tangled mess pulled atop his head. Donghyuck rakes his eyes down the curve of Johnny’s body and tries to discern whether he feels any differently in the morning, whether something has shifted. He’s not sure, but looking back he isn’t sure how he felt beforehand.
“Taeil burst in at 8 o’ clock asking if you were okay,” he says, before popping his thumb in his mouth and licking off salt. The twist of his mouth is measured. Donghyuck remembers all the times he’s thought Johnny’s gaze felt like the weight of the world but it’s different this morning. Maybe Johnny doesn’t trusts him with the whole world until after he’s had coffee. Smart move.
“I didn’t,” Taeil says, still smiling. “I came in very respectably.” Donghyuck’s busy hands snake under the hem of Taeil’s shirt, or try too. Taeil absently bats them away.
“Did you…did you drive all night?” Donghyuck asks slowly, his thumb digging into the curve of Taeil’s hip until it’s ticklish. “Did you seriously drive home because Johnny was drunk?”
Johnny laughs. “I’ve been drunk before, you know.”
“I got that vibe.” He grins through the tangle of Taeil’s hair.
“And I didn’t drive that far.” Taeil’s hand lands atop Donghyuck’s and their fingers thread together. Taeil’s other hand comes up onto the table and he rests his chin in his palm. “I was only a few hours away.”
Donghyuck coos. “The biggest, strongest man.” His arms go around Taeil’s center and he squeezes like a teddy bear.
Taeil is laughing, half-hearted tugging for freedom. “I have to protect you from the octopus in our bed.”
Donghyuck tenses, just a bit, and Johnny makes eye contact coolly. It’s just a moment. He drops a fried egg on a pie of toast and slides the plate towards Taeil. “This octopus says ‘order up.’”
There’s a charm to Johnny, certainly. Donghyuck had noticed that first day in the library — he’s attractive in an intimidating way, like he’ll crush you with a look. He’s got a lopsided smile and a weight to his words. He makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room when he looks at you. His anger is a low boil and it hits like the backend of a spoon. He’s hot, objectively. He’s something special, at least to Taeil.
He doesn’t find kissing Donghyuck an abhorrent thought, but that’s such a low bar.
Taeil hands Donghyuck a piece of toast. “You’re so far away. It’s too early to be thinking so hard.”
Donghyuck laughs with a dry throat, placing a gentle kiss at the dark circles under Taeil’s eyes. “Early? It’s still yesterday for you. Did you sleep at all?’
“It’s fine,” Taeil slurs through a bite of egg toast.
“You should sleep,” Donghyuck tells him, face pressed against a chipmunk cheek.
Taeil struggles to swallow and Johnny pushes a cup of water in his direction. “I want to hang out with you,” Taeil says, after a half-sip. “I’ve missed you both.”
Donghyuck looks back at Johnny, who’s taking a slow drink of his coffee. He’s not wearing a shirt under his hoodie despite the general chill of the apartment and he looks like a douchey Abercrombie model. There’s that awful heaviness, a pressure, like he’s waiting for Donghyuck to make a decision.
It’s whatever. Johnny is whatever. He doesn’t like Donghyuck enough to give him the benefit of the doubt but a kiss or two doesn’t matter to everyone. To Donghyuck, it’s a lot. He squeezes Taeil’s middle again. “We can take a nap together.”
“You just woke up, man.”
“I didn’t sleep very well,” he admits, and Johnny sighs.
Slowly, Johnny cracks another egg in the skillet and pops some bread in the toaster. The light shines through the window into the living room and sets a glare on all the photographs. There’s a little cactus dying on the window sill. Donghyuck’s bones are tired and Taeil smells like his dirty car.
“Any particular reason?” Johnny asks.
Donghyuck is far away. “Hmm?”
“Why didn’t you sleep well?” Taeil tries.
“Oh.” Donghyuck clears his throat. “Just couldn’t…” settle down isn’t right. “My brain wouldn’t turn off.” He smiles crookedly. “It’s so difficult to turn on, feels like a waste to stop when it starts.”
“You’re a thoughtful person,” Johnny disagrees plainly.
Donghyuck picks at the crust of his toast. “Don’t lie to me.”
Johnny doesn’t reply. He just looks and keeps looking.
Taeil kisses his temple. “I’m good with a nap. My back is killing me. I need to be deboned like a fish.”
“My biggest, strongest, oldest man.” Donghyuck tugs Taeil off his stool and ushers him back towards his bedroom. “Eat your mush and then get in bed.”
“I have the hottest in-home nurses,” Taeil chirps good-naturedly, barely stumbling as Donghyuck puts him down.
When Donghyuck turns back to Johnny, he finds him too close, his elbows leanings against the table. He’s smiling fondly as Taeil walks away. Their faces are close together. Donghyuck doesn’t think about last night at all.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Johnny says eventually. He turns towards Donghyuck, his chin on his palm and his cheek squished against his fingers.
“I’ll romance our boyfriend if I have to,” Donghyuck huffs, all camp. A lazy morning curled around his favorite person in the world sounds like a gift fallen from heaven after his night of pins and needles. The bed is big enough for three, and Taeil would probably like to be surrounded by the both of them, but Donghyuck won’t pretend he’s unhappy Johnny is stepping aside.
You don’t even like me.
Johnny pulls away, bringing his mug up to his mouth. “Sleep well,” he says, heading over to sit at the kitchen table alone.
“You, too,” Donghyuck says, like a nervous idiot.
Taeil can tell that something is wrong. He isn’t a very verbal person. Unlike Donghyuck, and even Johnny, Taeil doesn’t feel like everything needs to be said. He knows that Donghyuck needs that, and when Donghyuck curls under the covers he tries his best to pry Donghyuck open like a clam shell. When Donghyuck resists good-naturedly, Taeil curls around Donghyuck, all octopus-limbs, and lets Donghyuck manhandle them both into something comforting.
Donghyuck is still thinking, thinking, thinking, but Taeil’s soft breath against his collarbone makes it easier to slip away and rest.
He wakes up a short while later to the feeling of fingers in his hair. The sun is high in the sky, peeking out over the ugly roof of the apartment complex outside. Taeil is sitting with his back against the headboard, Donghyuck’s head tucked in his lap. Gentle nails scratch his scalp and smooth down the mess, rinse, repeat. Donghyuck takes a deep, sweet breath and the movement stops for a moment, until Donghyuck whines like a child and burrows his cheek into Taeil’s thigh.
“Good afternoon,” Taeil says with a laugh, all breath. His scratch makes its way down behind Donghyuck’s ear, like he’s a dog instead of a boyfriend, and Donghyuck has always liked it so he only complains a little. He’s too comfortable to even pretend now, just allows Taeil to have his way, as it should be. “You were sleep talking.”
“Hmm?” Donghyuck pries his eyes open. Taeil has a double chin from this angle. Donghyuck grins and runs a finger along the stubble on Taeil’s jawline. “Was it funny?”
They both know Donghyuck doesn’t usually sleep talk unless he’s stressed.
“I got a video,” Taeil assures him, and that’s that. “I’ll show you over lunch.
Donghyuck rubs his eyes and tries to ascertain what time it is based on the sun, like the gods of old. It doesn’t work. He opens his phone, which tells him he has work in approximately three hours and he smells like whatever Johnny was drinking last night.
Something makes a sound in the apartment, the shifting of floorboard, and Donghyuck looks to the bedroom door as though it might open at any moment, a dog in a storm.
Taeil hums, his fingers skating across the skin of Donghyuck’s collarbone. Johnny’s shirt is way too big, twisted up around his torso. Taeil’s clothes probably would have fit better. “It’s just the washing machine,” he says softly. A pause. “Johnny left for work already.”
“Okay.” Donghyuck yawns and flops back down on the bed. He throws an arm over his eyes. He really doesn’t want to go to work but a distraction never hurt anyone.
There’s a long moment. “Nothing happened?” Taeil asks.
Donghyuck holds him a little closer. “No,” he answers honestly. “Nothing happened.”
Taeil hums. “You’d tell me.”
“I would.”
“Because we’re both adults and you don’t have to protect me from anything, even worrying about you.”
Donghyuck laughs and squints up at Taeil’s double chin. “My oldest, most adult man.”
Taeil flicks him on the throat and Donghyuck curls into a ball, threatened, only to have Taeil chuckle and swing his legs off the bed and onto the floor. He stretches, slapping Donghyuck’s wrist when Donghyuck reaches for revealed skin. “What do you want to do today?'“
“Anything,” Donghyuck says before admitting, “I’d rather be your booty call than go to work.”
“Chenle is an unholy terror.” Taeil smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll stop by?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Donghyuck sits up. “You should rest more.” He wonders if Johnny would follow Taeil to the cafe like he normally does. He wonders if he could operate normally after last night. He thinks so. Nothing’s changed, really. His stomach disagrees but realistically, he hasn’t learned anything new about either of them.
“My old bones,” Taeil says with a groan. “Thank god I have a hot young thing at home to reinvigorate me.”
“This hot young thing needs a shower and some fresh underpants.” Donghyuck sits up and looks toward the bathroom. “Do you think Johnny would mind if I use his shower stuff?”
Something flits across Taeil’s face. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Okay.” He likes the way Johnny smells. Which is weird to think about, after everything last night. Donghyuck has never struggled with not being weird, as the kids say, but he’s also never been involved in a polycule so there’s a bit of a learning curve. “I’ll be right back.”
Taeil hums. “I’ll be waiting.”
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Chenle asks, four hours later.
Donghyuck has lavender syrup dripping down his forearm because he’d thoughtlessly missed the cup. He isn’t sure how to answer. Sure, he could tell Chenle he’s been thinking about the way that Johnny started the laundry machine for him so he wouldn’t have to go all the way back home in his dirty clothes, but that would be silly. So he just says, “nothing, like usual,” and washes his hands for a very long time.
Johnny takes a measured step back and Donghyuck wavers between being grateful and pulling his hair out. The texts stop coming so regularly but they don’t stop. When they do come, it’s clear that Johnny is doing so very thoughtfully. Things like this picture reminded me of you or Taeil snores like a horse or this barista isn’t as good as you are with a little photo attached. Donghyuck saves them all. It seems like Johnny has an entire folder full of photographs of Taeil sleeping.
Usually, Donghyuck just replies with a half-hearted lol and moves on with his life.
It gets closer and closer to Donghyuck’s certification and he is drowning out his problems with more problems. Problems like watching too much television and sleeping on Jaemin’s couch and bothering Renjun. He sees Taeil and Johnny both less and less.
“I thought we were done with the avoiding thing,” Jeno asks, tossing a basketball to Mark who shoots from too far away and misses completely. “It’s not like you.”
Mark snorts, running after the wayward ball. “Avoiding his problems? That’s very like Hyuck.”
“I was your first kiss,” Donghyuck reminds Mark haughtily. “I’ve got all those mirror selfies of you from middle school. I have your mother on speed dial.”
“Donghyuck has never avoided anything in his life,” Mark tells Jeno somberly.
Renjun starts booing from the bleachers.
“I’m really not,” Donghyuck says. “I’m just overwhelmed. I need a break.”
Renjun snorts. “Next time your boyfriend’s hotter boyfriend tries to fuck you just do the rest of us a favor and let it happen. Your unresolved sexual energy has been stinking up the family dinners for months.”
“It happened last week!” Donghyuck gripes, around the same time Mark says, “sorry, what?”
“No tension is so sexual that Mark will notice unless told,” Chenle calls out from beside Renjun. About ten minutes ago he’s hit his boom box with the basketball and has spent the time since then hitting it in different places to see if it will work again. “Meanwhile, I get paid to watch Donghyuck cower in the stock room anytime a customer walks in who is over 6 foot.”
Donghyuck snatches the ball out of Mark’s hands and chucks it at Chenle’s head.
Mark doesn’t even react. “Wait. Who tried to fuck Donghyuck?”
“That isn’t even what we were talking about,” Jeno tries. “Donghyuck is about to get his teaching license.”
“That’s less fun.” Mark goes over and sits beside Renjun. “Who was it?”
“Johnny didn’t try to fuck me.” He probably would if Donghyuck had let him. Johnny has had a lot of sex with a lot of people. Every time Donghyuck realizes they have a mutual acquaintance they all seem to have an opinion on how well Johnny kisses or how big his dick is or whatever. And that’s fine except it’s not fine for reasons that Donghyuck can’t place. “He tried to kiss me in a drunken haze.”
“And then made you breakfast and did your laundry,” Renjun adds airily.
Donghyuck swallows, thick. “Yeah.”
“Well, that’s good news, right?” Mark hooks his chin over Renjun’s shoulder, watching Chenle brutalize the boom box. “Didn’t you say it’d be easier if he wanted to fuck you?”
“I’ve been wrong before.” It’s a low grumble. Donghyuck would do almost anything to going back to their previous conversation over whether a hot dog was a sandwich.
“And he’ll be wrong again!” Renjun cheers, just as weak rap music starts playing out of Chenle’s stupid electronic.
Donghyuck has been wrong so many times that he’s starting to wonder how anyone ever puts up with him. He knows that it’s his roguish looks and charming personality, but when he’s been failing miserably at almost everything for the past several months it’s hard to remember he’s ever put forth something of value.
Taeil texted him a few days after being back in town.
Donghyuck has been thinking about it for a long time. He feels like he’s taken one step forward and two steps back but he doesn’t have time to bang out the kinks in the iron because he’s busy and anxious and stupid. So gay and so stupid. “This would be easier if Johnny was not hot,” he tells the library chair across from him.
The library chair does not answer. Donghyuck continues with his work.
It’s been a little over a week now since Donghyuck smoothed a hand over Johnny’s hip and looked him in the eye and said nothing much at all. Donghyuck rubs the memory out of the back of his eyelids and checks his phone. It’s too early in the morning to be up but he wanted to study before his shift. Chenle has been sending him stupid text messages all morning.
Taeil sent him another one about twenty minutes ago, asking if he was at working yet, and Donghyuck texts him back — — and tries not to fall asleep while he flips through his textbook.
When he gets to work Taeil is already settled into his usual spot by the window, his sheet music spread out along the table. There's a coffee in ring along the top of one, and Chenle has deigned to put on his apron and chat despite never touching coffee beans if he can help it.
“Good morning!” Taeil chirps when Donghyuck walks through the door, and Chenle leans his hip on the table and gives Donghyuck a horrendous elevator look.
“All-nighter?” he asks.
“Fuck you,” Donghyuck snips, before going and grabbing his apron from the hook. It smells like hazelnut and whatever was dripping out of the trashcan the other day. He should really take it home and wash it. “Why are you working? You hate work.”
“Maybe I’m trying to steal your boyfriend,” Chenle says simply, making his way back to the bar. There’s a new kid here this morning, pretty with a blond mullet and freckles, and he smiles politely at Donghyuck before ignoring him completely.
“Despite what you think, I don’t have a surplus for you to steal.” Donghyuck makes his own coffee and helps the new guy catch up at the bar while watching Taeil going over compositions. The sun filters in through the mess of his hair. He looks like an angel.
“I just heard annoying younger men were his type and thought I’d shoot my shot.”
Taeil snorts from across the room.
Chenle has his pick of hot, older men and also Mark for some reason, so Donghyuck just makes Taeil a drink and heads over without giving Chenle the satisfaction of a response. “Hey there, sailor.”
“Lo!” Taeil greets, moving his work so there’s space for the new cup. Donghyuck laughs at the crumbs of pastry making spots on the papers. “Young siren, here to seduce me?”
“With caffeine, certainly.” There’s such a warm feeling in his chest when Taeil smiles like that. It hurts a little, like looking at the sun. Donghyuck clears his throat, trying to get rid of the butterfly wings. “What was Chenle talking about?”
“How much he loves and appreciates you as a person.”
“Sounds feasible.” In the background, the new kid — Donghyuck really needs to figure out his name — is cleaning up beans Chenle has spilled all over the floor while Chenle laughs about it. “He’s a very compassionate, genuine person.” Donghyuck looks over the papers. “Need any help?”
“No, he doesn’t!” Chenle yells from the bar.
“Maybe this evening,” Taeil compromises with a soft smile. “If my very productive cafe time is not as productive as usual, you can come help me finish it.”
Donghyuck huffs. “I thought we talked about this already.”
“I know, I know.” He tidies up his things. “Can’t blame a guy for hoping. But I can come over, if you want?”
“I want,” Donghyuck admits. Jaehyun is home this week, but he’s a cryptid. He might not even notice someone is there, which will be helpful in case he’s disappointed that Johnny and Donghyuck still have not kissed. “If you don’t have plans, that’d be nice.”
Taeil is just sitting there, smiling up at him, and something is tight in his eyes. He knows Donghyuck notices, too, because after a moment he sighs and rubs the tension out of them. “I’m stressed out a little,” he admits. He pats the top of Donghyuck’s hand. “You help.”
Butterflies, rainbows, sparkles, cupcakes. Donghyuck can’t stop himself from cooing, overly cute. “My Taeilie is the best thing in the whole world.” He’s wiggling like an idiot, and Taeil laughs and the tension in his eyes dissipates completely.
“I’ll see you after your shift,” is the soft, fond reply to Donghyuck’s foolishness, and it’s the best thing Donghyuck could ever ask for.
“I just don’t understand how you got two hot, older men to want to kiss you.”
Donghyuck is appropriately offended. “Excuse me? I’m a catch?”
Jaemin looks at Donghyuck expressionlessly from where he’s sprawled out on the couch.
“I’m just saying, man, like,” Mark rambles, his head resting on Jaemin’s knees. He’s playing a game on his phone and by the sound of it it’s going terribly. “You’re cool and all but I’ve seen Taeil in the flesh and I just can’t believe it.”
“You can’t relate to being extremely cute and charming, I get it.” Donghyuck flips through his notebook with indignant flair. “Some of us have to bear the cross of animal magnetism.”
“Please don’t talk about the cross in a sexual manner,” Mark says.
“You’re more of a demon than an animal, anyway,” Jaemin points out matter-of-factly.
“You’re all terrible.” Donghyuck doesn’t point out that he’s really only managed to convince one hot, older man to kiss him. The jury is still out on whether Johnny actually wants to kiss him. Or…Johnny probably does want to kiss him but Donghyuck isn’t sure if it’s any different from how Johnny wants to kiss everyone else. Which is fine! If Johnny wants to kiss ten different people a week, that’s fine. That’s not Donghyuck — it can’t be Donghyuck.
The idea of putting himself into Johnny’s waiting hands when it doesn’t mean the same thing makes Donghyuck’s stomach churn. Donghyuck has had enough of putting himself out there first, thank you. Taeil has apologizes for the whole sex fiasco but…it says enough that they haven’t had it since. Donghyuck doesn’t mind but knowing how Taeil and Johnny usually work makes it clear Taeil’s libido is a little higher than Donghyuck’s own.
Donghyuck wants to hax sex. He just wants it to be important. And if it’s not important, he doesn’t mind not having it. He knows he’s in the minority.
Of course, sex isn’t necessarily what Johnny was offering, although Donghyuck thinks his hand flat on Johnny’s naked hip was implication enough. Johnny just wanted a kiss or two. What’s a kiss between sister wives? Or whatever?
Donghyuck thinks about kissing Johnny and short-circuits.
Jaemin kicks Donghyuck in the shin. “What’s up, space cadet?”
“Nothing.” Donghyuck rubs his leg with a scowl. “Thinking about all my hot, older men.”
That’s the problem with Donghyuck, really. It’s not his libido, or his charm, or his animal magnetism. It’s that he doesn’t think until he does, and once he starts he can’t stop. Thinking is paralyzing. He wonders what Taeil and Johnny’s relationship was like, back when they still had to put things out in the open to understand each other. He wonders if he’ll ever get to the point where he doesn’t have to work through all his thoughts out loud for someone to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him it’s fine.
Familiarity comes first, he guesses, followed by the horrifying ideal of being known. Still…Donghyuck thinks he’d let a person or two crawl into his ribcage if it meant thinking was a safer place to get stuck.
It’s almost the end of the year now and it couldn’t come fast enough. His classes have heavy-loaded the end of the year with work because they hate him specifically, and although he wishes he could keep working from home there are too many potential distractions. Jaehyun, in particular, has been making a nuisance of himself ever since he mentioned Johnny to Taeil and incited roaring laughter.
“I just don’t get it,” he kept muttering to himself while he folded slightly pink whites. “It’d be perfect.”
“If you could stop match-making that would be nice,” Donghyuck had told him, pulling the laundry basket over to his side of the couch. Jaehyun had spent a full two minutes trying to get hospital corners on his t-shirt.
“You know what would be nice?” Jaehyun asked, desperately trying to match socks. Donghyuck thinks he might be a little colorblind. “If you got more kisses.”
Donghyuck had looked to Taeil, curled up on the couch with his feet pressed into Donghyuck’s thigh. “He’s right,” had been the calm reply, which spurred an indignant noise and some very aggressive laundry folding.
Now, Donghyuck is avoiding Jaehyun and trying to steal as many kisses as he can from his beautiful boyfriend who is extremely annoying about it. Considering that Donghyuck is almost done with school forever, he thinks that Taeil should give him as many kisses as he wants. He’s a cuddler. He deserves it.
“I would love to but,” Taeil starts, but every time he never finishes. Admittedly he did make out with Donghyuck for several hours earlier that day, but still.
Right now Donghyuck has been holed up in the library for nearly five hours. He hasn’t even been studying the entire time. He went on a walk to the vending machine and came back an hour later with a bag of chips and no memory of the passage of time after he’s started chatting with the library. About an hour ago he saw a very cute dog outside of the window. He’s so distracted he can barely string three thoughts together, which is an issue when he has two essays to finish and a quiz to take.
Donghyuck is only kind of a student. He should only have to kind of work hard this week.
He digs his fingers into his temples with a huff, pencil clattering down against the library table. There’s too much going on lately — he doesn’t have the bandwidth to think about school. It was hard to make himself go back for his certification requirements. If he doesn’t get pass this year it’ll be an entire new year of quasi-hell.
Donghyuck has found his grit for approximately five seconds when he lifts his head and sees Johnny through the window, staring at him from the stairwell.
There are a few heartbeats before Donghyuck waves awkwardly, mouth a half-quirked smile, and Johnny holds up a plastic bag in acknowledgement. Donghyuck almost thinks that’ll be it, and Johnny will move on to another room, but Johnny comes in and closes the door quietly behind him.
He looks nice today, Donghyuck thinks. In little unsure, his hair pulled high and messy on his head and a long coat thrown over his shoulders. He’s wearing a sweater and slacks with a coffee spot on the knee. Donghyuck doesn’t notice he’s giving Johnny the elevator eyes until he notices that tiny stain, and by the time he snaps his gaze into appropriate territory Johnny is already settling in the seat across from him. Donghyuck assumes Johnny will look smug, but as he puts down the plastic bag and pushes it across the table he looks almost contrite.
Johnny doesn’t say anything.
“Uh.” Donghyuck clears his throat. “Sorry I stole your table.”
Johnny shrugs. “This room has the biggest window.”
Donghyuck hums in agreement. “There was a really cute dog outside earlier.”
Normally, mention of a dog (usually via text, the only place they casually communicate in any way) sends Johnny into fits, so Donghyuck is a little unsettled when Johnny just chews on the inside of his lip and stares out the window.
“Are you, uh…” Donghyuck swallows through a dry throat. He’s given Johnny enough time to start talking and found the answering silence a little…awkward. Very awkward. Donghyuck even wrote another paragraph on an essay in an attempt to abate it. “Are you just going to sit there?”
Johnny purses his mouth. “I’m trying to think of what to say.”
Donghyuck snorts. “That’s not like you.” Not with Donghyuck, anyway. Or with Taeil. Donghyuck supposes he doesn’t have enough information to make a broad guess about how Johnny interacts with people he doesn’t have baggage with. Donghyuck writes another paragraph and pauses to rub the tension from behind his eyes.
When Johnny still doesn’t say anything, Donghyuck figures he’ll save him from his thinking. “What’s the bag for?” he asks, taking a long sip of his coffee. It was hot once. After a while Donghyuck scavenged some ice cubes so it was something other than room temperature. He figures Johnny would find that sacreligious, but Donghyuck is the barista so he knows best.
Johnny starts, like he’s forgotten it was there. “Oh.” He clears his throat and starts untying the knots with nimble fingers. “Taeil and I went to visit my mom this morning,” he says, like that explains everything. Donghyuck just raises an eyebrow until Johnny continues, “I brought leftovers.”
Donghyuck smells kimchi and side dishes, beef, and when he peers in he sees some sort of broth in a TupperWare. It smells like his mom used to make, when he was younger and had someone else to cook for him. “For…me?” He isn’t sure why he’s so surprised.
“Thought it would be good since, you know, you always cook for Taeil and I.”
“I cook for everyone,” Donghyuck dismisses, but his fingers curl around the bag and pull it a little closer to get a better look inside. There’s a lot of food there, enough for nearly a week if Jaehyun is actually telling the truth about not stealing Donghyuck’s food. He looks up at Johnny with a genuine smile, however small. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
“You’re welcome,” Johnny replies succinctly. “I’m glad you accepted it.”
Donghyuck’s smile tightens. “So formal,” he teases. “We shared a bed. You don’t have to think so hard.” It’s certainly a pot and a kettle at this table, but sometimes Donghyuck needs to hear it said out loud which means Johnny probably does, too.
There is a measured moment. So much about Johnny — this specific Johnny, the one at the library table — feels measured. “I feel like I have to think so much when I’m around you,” Johnny admits. He slumps in his seat, curling over to put his elbows on the table.
A part of Donghyuck wants to laugh. “I’ve noticed.” He only realizes he’s fidgeting when he hears the plastic bag rustling between his fingers. “I’m not so complicated.” Donghyuck knows he’s not complicated; if anything, he makes things more complicated, but as a person he’s got two layers, tops.
Johnny rolls his eyes. “Give yourself some credit. You’ve surprised me plenty of times.”
That’s not difficult, Donghyuck thinks, when Johnny thought he was the scum of the earth. When the expectations are so low it’s not hard to be surprising. “We’ve both been getting better about it,” he assures him.
“I thought so.” Johnny huffs and Donghyuck grimaces.
He doesn’t really want to talk about the other night beyond making a disarming joke or two. What good is an existential crisis if not for a laugh and something to avoid thinking about entirely? “You really don’t have to worry about it.”
“I’m sorry I judged things wrong,” Johnny starts, and Donghyuck waves away the apology.
“You were drunk and comfortable and I was…” Donghyuck doesn’t really have an excuse for touching Johnny like that other than being swept up in a rhythm he wasn’t fully prepared for. Johnny is hot and they’re boyfriend neighbors or whatever the term might actually be. Things can be confusing when the night switches over to a new day.
Johnny is patiently waiting for Donghyuck to finish his sentence.
“I don’t know,” Donghyuck finishes lamely.
“I wasn’t that drunk,” Johnny tells him.
Donghyuck swallows. “I know. But…” He scratches his head. There aren’t any words he can find to articulate a feeling he doesn’t understand. “It’s fine if you just like kissing. That’s okay.”
Johnny’s mouth quirks, wry. “You’re just not like the other girls.”
Donghyuck scoffs in indignation, but when he thinks about it that’s essentially what he said. “Fuck off,” he says lightly, because he can’t disagree.
“I will if you want me to,” Johnny says genuinely. It’s so genuinely and vulnerable that Donghyuck blinks, thrown off-kilter. “I know Taeil wants us to get along but if I’ve made you uncomfortable, he’ll understand.”
“It’s fine.” Donghyuck’s voice comes out a little robotic, throat dry. “You don’t have to.”
“I said that in the morning we could see, you know...” That’s true. Johnny did say that. Johnny must be fidgeting too — Donghyuck hears the chair creaking a little as he shifts, but Johnny’s face is perfectly impassive. “That we could see.”
“Uh.” Donghyuck’s brain is fried from his studying that he definitely hasn’t been doing. “See what?” He hadn’t understood when Johnny said it the first time, either.
“You said you didn’t want to because I was drunk and so I said we could see in the morning.”
Donghyuck stares at Johnny. “See…if you still wanted to kiss me?”
Johnny’s response is plain. “Yeah.” He shrugs.
The shrug sets off something a little acidic in Donghyuck’s stomach. His hands are in his lap and he plays with his fingers, eyes falling on the empty page of his essay. He bites his lip. He isn’t sure he wants to know the answer to that question. Regardless of whether or not Johnny still wanted to kiss him in the light of day — “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“I know that now,” Johnny admits. He’s frowning at Donghyuck now. “Taeil…mentioned something to me.”
Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. He waits.
“You think I don’t like you?”
It’s not what Donghyuck was expecting. He laughs, surprised. “I mean…” He smiles again, confusion pulling at the corners of his mouth. You don’t, goes unsaid, because Donghyuck can’t quite get the words out, so he just holds out his hands and gestures to the space between them.
Johnny makes a pained expression. He isn’t wounded — it’s not so vulnerable — but regretful at the least. “I do like you.”
Donghyuck scoffs. “You don’t have to sugarcoat anything, dude. I get it.”
With a huff, Johnny flops back in his chair. His head hangs over the edge. “Why are we so bad at talking to each other?”
Donghyuck thinks he’s pretty good at talking to people. He has great conversational skills and he loves showing them off. He can be articulate, or quiet, or rowdy, and he can fill in the gaps of a room. He thinks Johnny might be like that too, when he’s not so busy getting pissed off that both he and Donghyuck are trying to manipulate a conversation in their favor. “Maybe we’re just trying too hard.”
Johnny rubs his forehead with a sigh. He lifts his head and looks at Donghyuck like he’s not sure what to do with him. “I do like you. You’re not so bad.”
“A glowing review.” Donghyuck reaches up and starts typing again. He doesn’t actually know if the words make sense but he needs something to do and he can’t just sit here staring at Johnny. His finger catches on a thought and he tap, tap, taps the spacebar. “I’m glad I managed to change your mind.”
“You did.” Johnny readjusts as quickly as he can — he’s big and it takes him twice as long to move his stupid torso upright. “You really…I thought you were really selfish.”
“I can be,” Donghyuck admits.
“So can a lot of people in their early twenties.”
Donghyuck looks at Johnny suspiciously over the screen of his laptop. “Are you confessing your love to me?”
Johnny’s face contorts with disgust. “No.”
Donghyuck breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay, good.” A small laugh. “I wouldn’t believe you.”
Johnny runs a hand through his hair and it ruins his bun but he doesn’t seem to notice. It’s funny. He looks like he has horns. “Would you believe me if I told you I liked you?”
Donghyuck is still snickering behind his hand and the words catch on his brain at the last minute. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I like you.”
The gears that were turning halt to a stop. “Okay.” Donghyuck squints at him. “Like…romantically?”
Johnny shrugs again. “I don’t know.”
“Okay.” Donghyuck’s tongue feels too big for his mouth. This is not really what he expected to come from his half-hearted wave out the library window. “That’s…fun.”
After a moment of waiting, Johnny clears his throat. “I didn’t think about that being a reason why you said no, like, because you didn’t understand my opinion has changed. I get that sex is different from than it is for me.” Johnny crosses his hands atop the table. He doesn’t fidget, doesn’t pull at his fingers or pick at the table, but his mouth is a tight line and his hair is pulled out of his bun and Donghyuck knows Johnny has probably been thinking about this all week. “I don’t just expect everyone to want to have sex with me.”
“Dude, I would if I looked like you,” Donghyuck says with a snicker.
Johnny whines like a child. It’s cute and unlike him. “I’m trying to be serious here.” He scratches his cheek.
“Don’t let me stop you.” Donghyuck pushes his laptop aside — not going to get anything done anyway — and leans forward on his elbows, coquettish. “Tell me more about how you’re in love with me.”
“Donghyuck,” Johnny says, like a warning. A request that Donghyuck is serious for two minutes so Johnny can express his single, surprising fond feeling.
Donghyuck sighs, forehead thunking on the table. “It’s just a lot, okay?” He looks up at Johnny over his forearms. “I don’t…really believe you. I don’t think that’s what you want to hear, though.”
“Don’t you think you’re likable?” Johnny asks.
“I’m exquisite!” Donghyuck argues, fists slamming into the table dramatically. “Let’s not psychoanalyze me too much here, okay? You’re allowed to not like me. You’ve never…” Well, Donghyuck can’t say that Johnny never expressed interest when Donghyuck has seen bedroom-eyed Johnny and man, what a Johnny it is. “You wouldn’t have even looked at me twice if it weren’t for Taeil.”
It’s a strange way to put things — it doesn’t seem to have the right nuance, when Donghyuck rolls it around in his mouth, but he can’t think of any other way to say it and he’s so tired of thinking. His two brain cells have been trying to start a fire for so long they feel raw.
Johnny purses his mouth, flattening his palms on the table. “Maybe,” he admits.
Somehow, that makes Donghyuck feel better.
“But we do have Taeil,” Johnny continues, and leaves it at that.
Donghyuck groans, kneading his temples with tired fingers. He’s exhausted from this conversation alone. “Why is this so complicated?”
“Dealing with two people is hard enough,” Johnny tells him. “Three feels impossible.”
“You’re telling me.” Donghyuck swallows thickly. His phone lights up on the table. It’s Jeno calling. Terrible timing. He flips it over, face-down. Jeno gets mopey if Donghyuck doesn’t answer him, but Donghyuck doesn’t think he has the brain capacity to be casual right now. “I just…” He’s just not sure it’s worth it. He looks at Johnny and all he sees is a little bit of disregard, a little bit of guilt, and a little bit of duty. He sees how hard this is going to be. Harder than the Donghyuck of however many months ago realized when he sat down next to Taeil at the bar and started flirting. Harder than the Donghyuck in that cafe thought it would be when he was begging Taeil to stay. Harder than anyone told him it would.
Johnny leans back in his seat and looks at Donghyuck like he’s a puzzle. “How can I convince you?”
Donghyuck laughs a little. It was meant to be a little bitter, but he’s surprised by how good-natured it is. “What? That you really like me? Convince me to lay in your bed and keep you warm, hmm?”
“Just…” Johnny’s cheeks color. “Just to try.”
Donghyuck does Johnny the service of letting that sink in. His heart is a funny, stupid thing — it sits oddly in his stomach, jumping around like it’s lost. “I…” It comes out thick.
His phone lights up again.
“Sorry,” Donghyuck mutters, eager to stall for time. “Let me just—” He turns his phone face up and sees that Jeno has called again, followed shortly by a text asking Donghyuck to call him back as soon as he can. He shoots a guilty look at Johnny before calling his friend back. “Hello?”
“Hey! I’m so sorry to bother you,” Jeno says, huffing. It sounds like he’s at the gym, or running somewhere in a hurry. “I know you’re studying.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” I’m not doing anything. It’s not exactly true, but Donghyuck stares at the gross green carpet and not at Johnny waiting patiently on the other side of the table. “What’s up?”
“It’s Renjun. He just called me.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. He’s having a Bad Time.” Jeno sounds a little panicked, unlike himself. “Normally I’m around but the team is out of town for an intensive and I don’t have my car—”
“It’s fine, man.” Donghyuck clears his throat and shuts his computer. “I’ll head over. It’ll be fine.” He pretends like he doesn’t see the slow, defeated slump of Johnny’s shoulders.
“Thanks. I’ll text you everything you need to know—”
“I’ve been there for Bad Time,” Donghyuck reminds Jeno gently. He’s known Renjun far longer than Jeno has, long before they were fucking or whatever it is that they’re doing. “I’ll take care of it.”
Jeno sounds a little teary. “Thanks. Just…let me know how it goes. And when you get there, just shoot me a text.”
“I will. Don’t check your phone until practice is over.” Jeno worries too much. Donghyuck knows it when he sees it. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” He hangs up, knowing Jeno will just keep apologizing over the phone. When he looks up from shoving his phone in his pocket Johnny has already accepted that the conversation is over.
“Sorry to take up your time,” he says, pushing the chair back with his heels and standing up.
“I’m not trying to get out of this conversation, I promise,” Donghyuck tells him delicately.
Johnny smiles then, his hands in his pockets. “It’s okay if you are.”
“I’m not. I just…” Donghyuck clears his throat.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Johnny says, deciding for both of them. “Enjoy the side dishes.”
Donghyuck had almost forgotten about the bags beyond crumpling them up beyond recognition in his hands. “Thanks.” His smile is small, as genuine as he can make it while his heart burns with stomach acid. “See you.”
Johnny leaves first, and it’s only when Donghyuck reminds himself he has places to be that he slowly starts packing away his things.
Truly, Renjun has gotten much better. The Bad Times are fewer, far between, but they’re also a little harder to anticipate. Renjun is better at knowing when they’re going to hit. It’s different than before, when everyone else knew what was going on before Renjun knew what was about to hit him over the head. It’s better now because Renjun can mitigate it before things get too bad. It’s also worse, because when it does get bad, Renjun has a very hard time asking for help.
Donghyuck knocks gently on the door. “Hey, it’s me.” His ear is close to the wood, listening for scuttling. He hears soft sockfeet against vinyl flooring. He shakes the bags in his hands, plastic rustling enticingly. “I brought food.”
The footsteps get closer, and when Renjun pulls open the door he’s a pathetic figure. His eyes are red and puffy, but beyond that he looks tired and empty. Not miserable, just exhausted. There’s a blanket over his head, skin pale and eyes dark, like Nobody wandering the bathhouse. He looks at the bags in Donghyuck’s hands. “Not reusable.”
Donghyuck tries not to laugh. “Not mine.”
Renjun sniffs once, extremely distastefully, but he steps aside quietly and lets Donghyuck take the offensive materials into the clutter of the kitchen.
By the time Renjun reaches out to someone else, the Bad Times tend to be quiet. Back in the day they were loud and terrible, and angry, and Donghyuck was the only person there for a very long time. It used to sting that Renjun didn’t reach out as easily anymore, and it still stings sometimes that Donghyuck isn’t the first person he calls, but Renjun doesn’t have that kind of malicious bone in his body. He’s sharp edges until he shatters and then he’s soft and ruined until someone helps him quietly piece things back together.
Today, that involves letting Renjun curl up on the floor under a pile of weighted blankets and watch Bob Ross videos while making sure he eats.
The trash can is always a good indication of how Renjun’s doing. The food in the bottom is old and rotten, but the bag is mostly empty. Donghyuck closes the lid and starts pulling out the things that Johnny gave him. There’s vegetables and rice and kimchi, marinated beef, some kind of stew that smells sweet and spicy, and a few other things Donghyuck recognizes from when he visits home. He smiles, takes a picture of it all as proof that it happened. “Are you hungry?” he asks Renjun. He knows what the answer will be.
The burrito on the floor wiggles and makes a non-committal noise.
“I’m not as exciting as Titanium White,” Donghyuck chirps, and laughs when he gets another grunt in return. The food is semi-fresh, so Donghyuck stores them in Renjun’s refrigerator and tosses some select things into a pot carelessly. If he gives Renjun a plate, Renjun will eat. He stows the meat away for later when Renjun isn’t feeling poorly. He’ll appreciate it more then.
Donghyuck only feels a little bad about shuffling Johnny’s goodwill down the line. Sometimes, other people need it more than you do. Donghyuck will take the kindness for what it is and force rice down Renjun’s throat because that’s what needs to be done.
When the room smells like gochujang Renjun slithers over to one of the barstools, all curved spine and quilt. “Did Jeno call you?” he asks. His hands reach for a napkin he can twist to shreds.
“Yeah.” Donghyuck grabs one and hands it over, watching Renjun hide the soon-to-be disaster in his lap. He goes back to cooking, humming a little under his breath.
He likes cooking. His mother taught him when he was young so he could help with his siblings when she was away, and now he cooks best when it’s for other people. He’d rather boil noodles in a cup than cook a meal for one, but cooking for two is meditative. He sinks into something smooth and wonders whether Johnny feels like he’s been rejected. He wonders if that’s what Donghyuck was going to do or not. He never really got to figure it out.
“Where you busy?”
“Hmm?” Donghyuck barely hears the question.
“Where you busy?” Renjun asks again. It’s been almost a whole minute. The napkin is whittles to nothing by now. “I know…you were studying.”
“I’ve written three sentences all day,” Donghyuck assures him with a laugh. “I’d rather be watching Bob Ross.”
Renjun doesn’t say anything but tightens his blanket around his shoulders. He looks at the dirty, empty plasticware on the table, blending in with his art supplies and his dirty dishes and his garbage. The garbage disposal smells funny, but Donghyuck doesn’t care enough to take care of it before he makes sure Renjun has eaten something. “Where’d you get the food?”
“Hmm? It was actually kind of lucky,” Donghyuck mutters, tapping his chopsticks on the side of the pot and sticking them in his mouth to taste. “Someone gave me a bunch of leftovers right before Jeno got ahold of me.”
“Why?”
“Uh.” Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t know? He was just being nice.”
“Ah.” Renjun is quiet.
“What?” Donghyuck snips, because Renjun looks like a cat with cream.
“It was Taeil, wasn’t it?”
“No!” Donghyuck argues, nose in the air and he stirs the dinner he is lovingly making for someone who doesn’t appreciate him. “It was Johnny. So there.” He sticks out his tongue.
Renjun’s face twists — the most expression he’s had beyond tired — and he watches Donghyuck serve him a bowl and scoot it across the kitchen bar. His fingers beat against chipped ceramic. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Renjun only has one clean bowl, so Donghyuck reaches into the cabinet for a mug and serves himself. He stabs at Renjun’s bowl with his chopsticks. “Eat.”
“Why did your boyfriend’s hotter boyfriend bring you food?”
Donghyuck notices that Renjun is, in fact, not eating. He comes around and sits on the other barstool. “I guess he just felt bad.” He sighs. If Renjun wants to gossip, he’ll be more focused on that than anything else. He physically puts the chopsticks in Renjun’s hand. “We had…a bit of a tiff.”
He’s sure that Renjun already has the full story. Just because he’s been wholed up in his bed for a week doesn’t mean he doesn’t hear all the good details. Despite that, Donghyuck tells Renjun from beginning to end — Taeil’s phone call, Johnny’s friends, the apartment, the bed, the tattoo. The morning.
“You fondled this guy’s ass and then acted surprised when he got clingy?” Renjun asks, incredulous.
“I’m sorry, what?” Donghyuck throws the tatters of Renjun’s napkin at his head. “Firstly, it was a tasteful hip grope. And secondly, what the fuck?” He feels his face flush red which means Renjun won and even if Donghyuck is here to make sure Renjun’s not dead that doesn’t mean he can just let him win. “He didn’t ‘get clingy.’”
Renjun raises his eyebrows and takes a thoughtless bite of rice. Score for Donghyuck. “Okay.”
“He just, like…I don’t know.” Donghyuck puts his chin on his hand and taps his lip with his chopsticks. “Like, I can believe he doesn’t hate me, but like me?”
Renjun hums.
“Right, who would like me.” He pushes Renjun’s shoulder for the teasing, rolling his eyes. “I have a lot of good qualities! I can cook!” He shakes his bowl as proof and a green onion flops out onto the counter. “I can clean! I am very good company — don’t say anything.” He points an accusing finger at Renjun.
“Okay,” Renjun says again, taking another quiet bite.
“There are plenty of reasons why Johnny would like me. But none of them have worked so far, so like…” Donghyuck huffs. “Suddenly Taeil is entertaining the idea of bringing me into the polycule or whatever and he’s like yeah, let’s go? I don’t believe it.”
Renjun’s mouth forms around the word polycule.
“Like, if he wants to kiss me that’s whatever. He should want to kiss me, right? Like, he kisses a lot of people and I’m kissable! But I’m not like that and…there’s Taeil. If Taeil wasn’t around Johnny probably wouldn’t even…” Donghyuck scowls and shoves the green onion in his mouth viciously.
“I…” Renjun clears his throat. “Okay.”
“Sorry.” Donghyuck rubs his forehead. “Just a lot going on. Eat your vegetables.”
Once Renjun realizes he’s already been tricked into eating his stomach reminds him that he probably hasn’t eaten in several day. Donghyuck is able to ply him with a second serving before they slip into their regularly Bad Time activities. Donghyuck sits curled up on the fat chair and Renjun stays on the floor. Sometimes Donghyuck can convince Renjun to color with him but it’s still early. They’re halfway through their third Bob Ross episode when Renjun pokes his head out of the blanket mound on the floor, voice thick from disuse. “What’s the problem?”
Donghyuck, startled, looks down on his shirt for stains, makes sure his voice is turned on silent, and looks at Renjun having confirmed Renjun’s usual pet peeves are not the issue. “Huh?”
“Are you sad Johnny only wants you because of Taeil or do you not want to kiss Johnny?” It’s the longest sentence Donghyuck has heard from him all night, and his eyebrows are drawn in a way that implies he’s been thinking about it for some time.
Bob Ross is talking to his squirrels in the background and Donghyuck doesn’t think it’s wrong of him to have trouble processing the question. “...both?”
Renjun grunts. “You’re a pussy.” He slides back under his blanket.
Donghyuck throws the remote at him.
Donghyuck doesn’t even bother turning on the lights to the apartment. He takes off his shoes and groans. He’s exhausted. He should have just slept over at Renjun’s but he hates Renjun. “Jaehyun, are you home?”
His roommate’s door is closed, and Jaehyun opens it a second later wearing a nightshirt that goes down to his knees, hair pushed up in a headband. “Are any of us home?”
“Let’s put a pin in that.” Donghyuck tosses his bag on the couch. He’d kept the kimchi and the pan fried zucchini because fuck Renjun. “Am I a pussy?”
Jaehyun blinks at Donghyuck in the darkness. “Yes.”
“Cool, thanks. Goodnight.”
“You’re welcome,” Jaehyun says politely, and once he shuts his door the apartment is cast back in darkness and Donghyuck is alone with his thoughts.
His thoughts suck, so Donghyuck turns on his desk lamp and studies instead.
Donghyuck decides to go visit his parents for the week. Nothing helps him study like his mother breathing down his neck taunting him with dessert if he meets his revision goals. It was harder when his siblings were home, but most schools are in their finals weeks still and Donghyuck is alone with his parents.
“You’ve been too distracted,” his mother chides, sliding more beef his way. “Can’t even call your mother. Boys are terrible; don’t forget.”
Donghyuck’s cheeks are full of dumpling and he still grins. “Yes, mom.”
She doesn’t know the full extent of anything — Donghyuck doesn’t think he’ll ever be confident enough to tell her everything — but the time away is nice to clear his head. He sends memes to Renjun and bullies Mark over the phone. He calls Taeil every night and whispers over the phone so his parents can’t hear how much he misses someone that isn’t quite family.
“You left without even telling me,” Taeil says. It’s quiet on the other side of the line, not even the mumble of television in the background or the rustling of graded papers. Taeil had answered the phone announcing he had his slippers on, which probably means there’s a luke-warm cup of tea forgotten on the side table and he has nothing to do in the morning. “A whole week.”
“Just a week.” It feels like a very long time. His heart is very full. His stomach is also fuller than it’s been in recent memory. “Maybe…” He bites his lip. “If I get all my studying done maybe I’ll come back early.”
Taeil makes a pleased sound. “I’d like that.”
Donghyuck smiles from his stomach, up his throat, from his fingers and the tips of his toes. “I’d like that, too.”
There’s muttering then, a shuffle, and Taeil puts a hand over the receiver and says a soft, “It’s Donghyuck.” Donghyuck is still smiling when Taeil tells him, “Johnny says hello.”
A hiccup, or a flutter, or whatever. Donghyuck clears his throat. “Tell him hi, back.”
Taeil has a quick conversation — Johnny is a morning person and is probably going to bed soon. If Donghyuck remembers correctly he has meeting about summer session in the morning, absurdly early. He isn’t sure how he knows that. “Goodnight,” Taeil tells Johnny, and Donghyuck says, “Goodnight,” because what else is he supposed to say.
“I’m glad you guys are getting along better now,” Taeil tells Donghyuck after Johnny closes the bedroom door. “I know…um…I know it’s complicated.”
“It’s okay.” Donghyuck tugs on the stray threads of his comforter. It’s dark blue. There’s a stain from where he spilled an entire bottle of hot sauce and frantically tried to remove it at two in the morning in the bathroom sink. “It’s my fault.”
Taeil snorts. “You can’t believe that.”
“It’s mostly my fault,” Donghyuck amends.
“I’ll accept it but I don’t think you’re blaming us enough.” Taeil laughs. “Blame me more.”
“If it will make you feel better.” Donghyuck wishes he was there. He stares at his popcorn ceiling. “We can both just blame Johnny for being hot and intimidating.”
Taeil hums. “He’s trying, you know.”
Donghyuck could be snippy, or cute, but he’s tired and his brain hurts. He keeps thinking of Renjun poking his head out of that stupid blanket and asking what Donghyuck’s problem is. And he keeps thinking about how he didn’t really know the answer to what should have been an easy question.
Would you?
So Donghyuck isn’t snippy or cute. “I know he is.”
“Good.” Taeil sighs in relief. Donghyuck wonders if that’s on Johnny’s behalf or Taeil’s own. “If you know, that’s good.”
It’s just a week. Donghyuck swallows, throat dry. “I should go before my mom stops pretending she can’t hear me.”
Taeil laughs again. “Okay. Goodnight, boyfriend. Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight, Moon.”
Donghyuck doesn’t finish his studying early but he still goes home early, loaded heavy with leftovers and promises to return his mother’s plasticware. Half of it he’d helped make, but there’s something sweet about cooking with his mother again. THey’d tried baking but neither of them are very good at it and the squished cookies were eaten shortly after they’d laughed their fill.
His head doesn’t feel much clearer but he’s happy. That’s important to know. He can try. He has the room to try.
Although not very much thought is put into it, Donghyuck isn’t surprised to find himself going to Taeil and Johnny’s apartment first. His bag is still hung over his shoulder and his phone died about fifteen minutes ago. He fumbles with the keys and is mid laugh when someone finally pities him and opens the door.
It’s Johnny, looking a little winded. He’s pulling a t-shirt on over his head, still smoothing out the hem and his hair is a little in his eyes. He’s frowning. “Donghyuck? Is something wrong?”
Donghyuck feels like the air is gone but he’s still laughing. He holds up the woven bag digging into the meat of his arm. “I brought you something.”
Johnny steps aside without another word, and he even takes both bags out of Donghyuck’s grasp while Donghyuck struggles with his shoes by the front door. He nearly trips over them, making his way to the kitchen. “Did you guys already eat?”
“Taeil isn’t here,” Johnny tells him. His computer is open on the couch. It looks like he was reviewing lesson plans, but the crease on his cheek implies he fell asleep in the middle.
“Oh, okay.” Donghyuck starts sorting through the food. Some of it he’s keeping; he’s not a saint. The rest he holds up towards Johnny. “Did you already eat?”
Johnny blinks at him, bleary. It’s kind of cute. Donghyuck chokes on his own spit and hides it by rummaging through more containers. “I already ate,” Johnny says eventually.
“Okay. I’ll just…” He gestures towards the refrigerator. He busies himself while Johnny fully wakes up. “Do you want coffee?”
“Kill me,” Johnny says in the affirmative, and Donghyuck grins maliciously at the French Press.
It’s a small moment. Johnny goes back and organizes his papers while Donghyuck ignores measurements and by the time the apartment smells warm they’ve realized they’re alone together.
“Sorry about last time,” Donghyuck says.
Johnny stretches his arms over his head. The hint of The Tattoo peeks out from the waistband of his sweatpants. “It’s okay.” He hides a yawn behind his hand. “I shouldn’t have forced the conversation. I just wanted to clear things up.”
“Good for you.” Donghyuck toasts him with a mug and pours coffee for the both of them. “Someone around here has to.” He’s not on the clock so he hands it to Johnny black and pours his own creamer. When he’s done Johnny is looking at him curiously, both hands curled around his mug. “What?”
“You seem better.”
“Was I bad?” Donghyuck teases. He knows he’s terrible. He saves Johnny the effort of forming a reply. “I visited family.”
Johnny nods slowly. “That’s always good to, you know…”
“...be better?” Donghyuck offers. Creamer back in the fridge, nestled by the broth his mother forced him to make at knifepoint. Donghyuck shuffles over and flops down on the couch, feet tucked beneath him. “I agree.”
There’s clicking as Johnny taps his blunt nails against his cup thoughtfully.
“I didn’t run away last time,” Donghyuck promises. “A friend needed help so I went to help because I am a good person, that’s all.”
Johnny smiles, wry. “What? You want to talk about it again?”
Donghyuck grimaces.
Johnny takes a long sip.
“I mean, you can tell me more about how you’re hopelessly in like with me if you think I’ll believe you.” Donghyuck purses his lips.
“We both know that’s not—”
“I’m kidding.” Donghyuck taps his toes on the carpet. His coffee is warm on his stomach where he sets it. “I don’t…” Clears his throat. “I’ve thought about it…a lot. You know? I think a lot sometimes when I shouldn’t and I don’t think at all when I should.”
Johnny doesn’t say anything, doesn’t disagree or agree or do anything.
“Everyone tells me you’re really charming,” Donghyuck says after a moment. “Very friendly. Now you’re just staring at me like a cryptid.”
“I’m not like that all the time,” Johnny says, but he doesn’t deny that he’s charming or friendly, or that he’s never been like that for Donghyuck. “We skipped that part.”
“Skipped a lot of parts, huh.”
After a moment Johnny admits, “I’d be happy if we’re just not awkward anymore.”
“For Taeil?” Donghyuck asks.
Johnny smiles. “That’s part of it. It bothers him.”
“His favorite boys not smooching?”
“His favorite boys not getting along.”
Donghyuck runs a finger around the rim of his mug and wishes he had a napkin to tear to shreds. “I know.” Donghyuck takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to be awkward, either.” He frowns, mostly to himself. “You thought I was selfish and I thought you were better than I am.” He holds up a hand when Johnny opens his mouth to argue. “I’m being frank. We both know things are different now…right?”
If Johnny sees the insecurity, he has the good grace to ignore it. “Right,” he confirms. “I’m sorry I tried to put moves on you when you were just helping me out.”
“Sorry I tried to seduce you when you were minding your own business.” Donghyuck takes a long, regretful drink of his coffee. He put too much creamer in it but he drinks it anyway.
Johnny laughs at him. “I knew you would. Taeil told me you wouldn’t but I knew you would.”
“To be fair, I never got that far.” Donghyuck scratches his forehead. It’s greasy from travel. He smells like the train and the little bag of pretzels he’s gotten from the vending machine. “My seduction skills are very good, despite your experience. I’ve got great reviews on Yelp.”
“Noted.” Johnny sets his cup down on the counter and turns to look at Donghyuck fully. He rolls his lower lip between his teeth. “That’s actually kind of…” He grimaces. “Ten asked me something that night you picked me up.”
Donghyuck hums, looking at Johnny thoughtfully. “If I was trying to fuck you?”
Johnny has the sense to look guilty.
“I figured.” Donghyuck laughs at his own expense. He wipes his face with a warm hand. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You already told me about the whole sex thing,” Johnny says. Donghyuck doesn’t know how he feels about Johnny calling it the Sex Thing but that’s probably another conversation. “I should have known you weren’t…but I thought that with Taeil…I thought we could try.”
Donghyuck smells like the train and the cookies he sucked at making this morning. He smells like home. He has been thinking about only school work and how much he misses the city. Sometimes he does his best thinking on the train, when there’s nothing else to worry about.
“We can,” Donghyuck says.
Johnny freezes.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “If you want to, we can.”
Johnny blinks slowly like a terrified animal. “The Sex Thing?”
“No! No, no, no. Also please stop calling it that.” Donghyuck curls up in a tighter ball on the couch. “I just meant…you asked me if I would.” First his heart was in his stomach, now it’s in his throat. Terrible. “I would.”
With little ceremony, Johnny stands up and makes his way over to the couch. He sits down a godly distance away, but he has that look on his face that makes Donghyuck feel like Atlas. “I thought I was your arch-nemesis,” he says, after running through the list of responses he could use and settling on something teasing.
If Johnny were Taeil, Donghyuck would nudge him gently with his foot. If Johnny were Mark or Renjun, Donghyuck would throw the pillow at him. If Johnny were Jaemin, he’d just get up and leave because he deserves better.
But Johnny is Johnny, so Donghyuck just stays. “I still kind of think you hate me,” he admits in a small voice. “But I think you’re beautiful, and I’m jealous everyone has seen the charming, friendly Johnny and I keep fucking up and talking to someone else.” His mug is burning a hole through his shirt. Everything feels hot and close. “But I feel like I know you better because of that. I don’t…mind the other person I talk to, whichever Johnny that is.”
Johnny looks at Donghyuck like he’s never seen him before. “There’s only one of me.”
“Thank god,” Donghyuck burbles. “I’d die.”
Johnny leans over and takes the mug carefully out of Donghyuck’s hands. Once Donghyuck lets go he realizes he’s spilt coffee on his shirt and his fingers are clenched, white at the knuckle. “I don’t hate you,” Johnny says slowly, setting the cup aside. He’s close now, almost sitting on Donghyuck’s feet, but he doesn’t move that final inch. “I thought I did. I thought I could, because I saw Taeil worry over you so much…but you’re right. I expected something out of you I wouldn’t expect out of anyone else and you told me so. I’m grateful for that.”
Donghyuck wipes fruitlessly at the growing stain on his shirt and doesn’t say anything.
“I think you’re not selfish at all, actually,” Johnny says, like he needs Donghyuck to know. “I think you’d do anything for a lot of people, and I think you’re smart and funny and you try hard to make the room better and I admire that in people. I admire that in you.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” Donghyuck coughs slightly and puts a hand to his cheek, cherry hot. “Communication is really embarrassing.”
Johnny laughs, and Donghyuck feels the air move. They sit like that, just close and quiet, until the coffee is cool and Donghyuck’s fingers unclench and they’ve both rolled around in their thoughts a bit.
“I’m not in love with you,” Johnny says.
“Good.” Donghyuck nods.
“I’m not…in like with you.”
Donghyuck rubs at his nose. “Reasonable, not accounting for taste.”
Johnny flicks him on the leg. It’s stupid, just a stupid little nothing gesture. Donghyuck stomach flips like a pancake. “I think I could, though.”
“You could?” Donghyuck thought he was confident enough to have this conversation but he’s not. He’s not and now he’s stuck here.
“I could.” Johnny is serious and certain. At some point, Donghyuck will just have to trust him.
Donghyuck takes a deep breath and says the root of it all. “Even if it’s just because of Taeil…I think we could.” I want to. I would.
There’s a slow smile that blooms on Johnny’s face. It takes over everything, like it does when Donghyuck calls Taeil late at night. Like when the sun first rises. Like the first rain of Spring. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck says with a surprised laugh. “I really think we could.”
Johnny shuffles closer, closer. His hands press gently on Donghyuck’s knee. There’s still that stupid crease in cheek from the couch pillow, and they both smell like coffee, and Donghyuck is shaking, just a little. “Can I?”
Donghyuck can barely think anymore. Maybe that’s for the best. He nods, jerky, and feels fingertips at his jaw.
It’s not like Taeil. It’s a different hand, a different feeling, but it’s not like the other people Donghyuck has kissed before either. It’s something different altogether, new, and Donghyuck doesn’t know anything about it.
Johnny pauses, an inch too far, and Donghyuck feels the slight tremor in his hand. Johnny hangs his head. It fits perfectly in the curl of Donghyuck’s shoulder, and it’s felt more right than anything else this entire day, even if Johnny gives out a small, “Are you sure about this?”
Donghyuck runs his hand over the soft hairs at the nape of Johnny’s neck and feels the tension bleed. No? Yes? Maybe? “I think it’s worth it,” Donghyuck whispers, “just to try.” He lifts Johnny’s face to his and kisses him sweetly on the mouth.
It’s awkward at first — stiff, heavy, then light, then curious, almost searching. Johnny leans in but Donghyuck’s knees are in the way, and it takes some manhandling to make things work. Johnny makes a surprised sound, pleased, and Donghyuck lets it happen because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows he’s kissing, and being kissed, and he knows it’s not a bad as he was worried it would be.
It’s just different.
“How was it?” Johnny asks. If Donghyuck didn’t know better, he’d say Johnny was nervous.
“It was weird, right?”
“A little. Clunky.”
“Yeah.”
“We should try again.”
Donghyuck chokes on a laugh and kisses Johnny again.
They fall asleep on the couch. Neither of them drank much of their coffee, and when Donghyuck opens bleary eyes he sees the mugs have been put away and Taeil is crouched by the couch, taking pictures. He puts a finger to his lips and points at Johnny, still sleeping on Donghyuck’s chest. Taeil turns his phone around and shows Donghyuck his entire album of Johnny Sleeping Pictures.
Donghyuck is full of butterflies. He reaches out a hand for Taeil to hold. “He asked me on a date,” he whispers. Johnny had pulled back from the second kiss and decided that was enough to decide but not enough to know.
“Good,” Taeil says in kind. “I made him look at first date ideas for an hour.”
It’s good to be home.
Donghyuck’s foot taps nervously against the wood floor. It’s a nice day outside, finally warming up enough for a trip to the shore. He’s got jitters for no reason; he certainly shouldn’t be drinking coffee when he’s on edge this way, but he waits patiently in line and puts in his order.
He hasn’t been to a cafe in a while. He quit his job shortly after he got the results of his certification, once he’d managed to get an engineering internship that didn’t make him want to gargle nails. No one seems to have told Chenle’s father, who still asks him questions about working there. Chenle just thinks it’s funny.
Besides, Donghyuck is sick of their coffee. There are other places to go, places with better pastries, so he’s waiting at one of his old favorites. It’s been so long that Donghyuck doesn’t even recognize the people working. There’s the guy with the undercut and the girl with the blue hair, but they’re both too busy for much more than a wave.
The girl at the register takes his order with a forced smile, softened by the plink of Donghyuck’s change in the tip jar, and he shuffles down the line towards a table to wait on his order. He only checks his watch twice, toe tap tap tapping. He considers that a win.
“Donghyuck?” They call his name from the bar, and Donghyuck startles before hurrying over. It’s the girl with the blue hair, and she grins at him, all teeth. “I thought it was you. Long time, no see.”
“I’ll come by more often,” he promises, a little ashamed. He hasn’t been here since Taeil looked him in the eye and said, inexplicably, I have a boyfriend. “Things just went sideways for a while.”
She passes him his drinks and two pastries, one more than he ordered, and says, “Did everything turn out alright?” It’s vague enough that Donghyuck could answer about anything, but he knows she’s asking about him getting dumped.
He laughs. “It did, I think.” Donghyuck grins, flushed and full. “Somehow.” He looks back down at his order. “Uh, can I have a carrier? I can’t carry three by myself.”
A moment later he’s walking out the door, laden with sugar and caffeine, and Johnny sticks his head out of the driver’s side window. He looks like a dog, his hair loose and blowing in the wind. “We’ve been waiting!”
“The cafe has windows, you know,” Donghyuck scoffs, kicking the back door until Taeil leans over and opens it for him from the passenger’s seat. “Be nice, I bring gifts.”
Johnny pouts and doesn’t say the obvious when Donghyuck hands him back his card and sets the drinks in the cupholders. Donghyuck leans over and kisses Taeil, again on the nose, and then settles into the backseat.
“Where’s mine?” Johnny asks.
Donghyuck hands him his iced coffee.
“Dude.”
Donghyuck kisses Johnny’s cheek with a laugh. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”
There are beers in the cooler digging into Donghyuck’s thigh and Johnny’s music plays over the radio, Taeil humming quietly along as Johnny pulls out onto the highway. Donghyuck’s graduation tassel hangs on the rearview mirror and Johnny refuses to roll the window up until a bug almost flies into Donghyuck’s mouth. It’s Johnny’s care but it’s their vacation.
“Congratulations,” Taeil says warmly over the music and the road.
“Donghyuck employed era.” Johnny wolf-whistles. “They’ve made a terrible mistake.”
“So true.” Donghyuck grins out the window.
Despite everything being complicated, despite not being sure, despite thinking too much — somehow, it’s worth it.