Doom Selfie

by tianxinglin (besthonestliar)

Summary:

Doyoung experiences a severe lapse in his judgment and sets his lockscreen as a selfie he and Yuta took together. He then endures teasing from Yuta, who keeps sing-songingly insisting Doyoung must be harboring a crush on him. Doyoung's primary issue? Yuta is right.

Notes:

hiya! this is my first fic fest ever and i had lots of fun doing this! to the prompter, hope you enjoy this and the craziness that ensues. i have never written doyu before and hope i do them justice

thank you to the mods for organising this and hope you enjoy <3

Doyoung’s having a bad day, okay? That’s his excuse. He’d overslept and been late to his appointment with his dissertation supervisor, who was notorious for being ruthless about punctuality. The grilling had lasted five minutes before Doyoung managed to shift the subject to his actual work.

Then the absolute worst part of it was that Doyoung somehow managed to accidentally delete said dissertation. After multiple heart attacks, he managed to screw his head back on and called Taeyong, who was a computer whizz to restore it.

So yes, he’s been through the wringer and exhausted to the bone and not on enough caffeine to maintain a normal attention span. Then there were about a dozen other things to do and sort out as well.

He’d collapsed onto his bed after flinging his backpack to the ground, put on a sad ballad then found himself tearing up randomly, much to his horror.

How had he become this weak? Doyoung spends the rest of the evening huddled in his blanket, bleakly binge-watching trashy TV. It feels like an all-time low.

It’s in this moment of total despondency that Doyoung cracks and lets some vulnerable emotion leak out. What makes him happiest these days? Nakamoto Yuta.

Doyoung’s currently doing his PhD and saving on rent by sharing a large apartment with a bunch of guys, who happened to be Yuta, Taeyong, Jungwoo and Johnny. Him and Taeyong go way back to school and already had their whole enemies-to-best-friends-arc, though they still snipe at each other constantly. “Like a married couple,” Johnny had said. Jungwoo and Johnny are both great, both chill and funny. They’d quickly all become close-knit friends. And then the landlord informed them that another person would be moving in to take the last bedroom.

That was when stupid Nakamoto Yuta moved in, with his stupid radiant smile full of way too many teeth and his stupid penchant for telling lies for no reason. He has an equally stupid belly button piercing and two tattoos low across his hipbones, a butterfly and something else that Doyoung absolutely has not been trying to figure out for ages. Yuta also loves to invade people’s personal space and flirt and tease for no reason, which is insanely bad for Doyoung’s already fragile mental health. That, and his love for wearing low-hanging vests that show half his chest.

He'd fit in immediately and slotted into their friend group without so much as a bump. Yuta is nice and sweet and witty and at times like a giant kitten.

Doyoung never stood a chance.

And that’s why at midnight, while deeply engrossed and self-projecting onto the protagonist of an angsty romance drama, he changes his lock screen to an old selfie of him and Yuta. It’s well worth the rush of serotonin he gets every time he checks his notifications after, to see Yuta’s beaming smile.

The selfie was taken the day the five of them had gone to a theme park together. Doyoung, despite protesting his motion sickness, had finally been peer-pressured onto a rollercoaster. Feeling distinctly nauseous, Doyoung had staggered out the exit and buried his face in Yuta’s shoulder, muttering ‘never again’ under his breath. Yuta had sneakily snapped a pic, resulting in a slightly blurred shot of Yuta laughing up, one arm holding his phone and other arm around Doyoung.

The memories of that day never fail to cheer Doyoung up. Surprisingly, it’s also the only selfie they have together.

When Doyoung finishes the drama after crying a river of tears, he smiles fondly at his lock screen before plugging his phone in to charge and drifts off to sleep.

The next morning, everyone is in the kitchen sitting at the table with the exception of Johnny, who spends his morning in the gym with his buddy Sehun. Taeyong, bless his heart, serves up breakfast for everyone in the form of leftover kimchi stew and rice. They’re a real domestic group and try to have at least one meal together a week.

Doyoung’s wolfing down spicy broth and rice when his phone pings with a message from his mum. His phone screen lights up and Doyoung suddenly realises that he may have made a mistake.

“Oh, is that my face?” Yuta asks, snatching Doyoung’s phone before he can raise a finger. Jungwoo raises a brow but says nothing and keeps eating. Taeyong, the only knower of Doyoung’s hopelessly massive crush on Yuta, sends him a meaningful glance that Doyoung ignores.

Yuta giggles, a glorious sound that Doyoung wishes he could wake up to every day. Stop it, he tells himself. It’s not even eight o’clock.

“That was such a good day,” Yuta says to the table. “Doie was so cute all nauseous and jittery.”

It’s such an absurd statement because Taeyong lets out a snort.

Cute. Doyoung resists the urge to scream and takes a sip of coffee instead. That’s exactly why a crush on Yuta is so horrid. He says things like that casually all the time to just about anyone. You can’t trust a word that rolls off Yuta’s honey tongue. It’s how he manages to maintain a steady stream of one-night stands.

Doyoung shrugs.

“I was getting tired of using the default lock screen,” he says. Johnny walks in, back from the gym, swiftly ending the conversation.

Doyoung thinks that’s the end of it. He is so, so wrong.

While doing his PhD, Doyoung also works part-time at the firm he interned at during university. Luckily for him (or maybe not), Yuta also works at one of the tall skyscrapers in the industrial area of the city, in finance. For someone who looks like a rockstar, Yuta cleans up well in office attire.

They take the train together every day and walk five minutes together and then Doyoung reaches his building and waves goodbye to Yuta. They try to go home together but Yuta’s schedule is based around the stock market and thus unpredictable at times.

It’s while they’re packed like sardines on the rumbling train that Yuta brings it up again. It’s Doyoung’s fault. He foolishly checks the time on his phone.

“Don’t you think we look a bit like a couple in this photo?” Yuta says, “I bet if I posted it, everyone would think so.”

“It depends how you look at it,” Doyoung replies stuffily, but he’s panicking.

“If I didn’t know any better…” Yuta says, eyes glinting. “Why else would you put a photo of us as your lock screen?”

“It’s a nice photo,” Doyoung argues but his heart is sinking. Is the jig up?

“Doie has a crush on me!” Yuta sings and bursts out laughing. “You want to look at my face all day long!”

None of this is untrue but these words are coming from Yuta’s mouth so Doyoung stiffens like a board.

How mortifying is it that Yuta is clearly joking. The idea of Doyoung having a crush on him is hilarious to Yuta, laughable even. It’s not anything serious. Doyoung is a mixture of heartbroken, irritated, and relieved.

Play it off, play it cool.

Doyoung wishes he could play along but 1. It would hurt too much 2. Jungwoo and Mark (their other friends) are the type to entertain Yuta like that. It would be distinctly out of character for him to do so.

“No I don’t!” Doyoung huffs instead, crossing his arms. “It’s a nice memory and you just happen to be there.”

“I know you want to kiss me so bad!” Yuta retorts, prompting a few bug-eyed looks from passengers around them.

“Right in front of my salad?” says the person next to them, rolling their eyes.

Doyoung laughs nervously and drags Yuta to a different place on the carriage where they haven’t embarrassed themselves.

“Got anything planned for tonight?” Doyoung says. His usual plan is stay in and attempt to make progress with his research. Very boring, but then again, he is twenty-seven. This line of reasoning is redundant as Yuta is twenty-eight and not boring at all.

“Got a hot date actually,” Yuta replies, ever so seriously. It’s totally unreadable. He combs a hand through his hair and ties it up into a small ponytail.

“At theirs or taking them home?” Doyoung clarifies. It’s not against the house rules to bring people home but Yuta tends to be the most prolific offender in their flat. If Doyoung didn’t have noise-cancelling headphones, he would’ve complained far more. It’s bad enough to hear other people moan but often the one moaning is Yuta himself.

The walls aren’t that thick and Doyoung is ashamed to admit that maybe one time he has just guiltily listened in, hand beneath his underwear. It had been a rather masochistic experience.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Yuta says jovially. “It can be a surprise!”

“Ya, hyung!” Doyoung whines but it’s too late, they’ve reached their stop, effectively ending the conversation.

What does Yuta even mean by that? Is he implying that Doyoung keeps tabs on when Yuta is hooking up with people? Which he does, but to have it noticed is another thing entirely.

Yuta pats Doyoung on the head when they reach his building first, carefully so he doesn’t mess up his gelled office hairdo.

Then he winks at Doyoung and taps his cheek.

“Goodbye kiss?” Yuta pouts. Doyoung stands there helpless as his blood pressure rises. Doyoung’s a hypocrite. One minute he said he wouldn’t play Yuta’s game and here he is swallowing it, hook, line, and sinker.

Well, whatever. He’s feeling feisty today and steps boldly towards Yuta, whose eyes widen in surprise. Light as a fairy, Doyoung ghosts his lips over Yuta’s cheek and steps back, satisfied. Whatever game this was, one point to him.

Doyoung crosses his arms and smirks at Yuta, oblivious to the stares of any passers-by. Yuta’s mouth is hanging open and he doesn’t respond for a few seconds.

When he does, it’s to stumble over a goodbye before rushing through the lobby door.

Doyoung sighs. What is he even doing, playing at gay chicken with Yuta? Yuta clearly sees the idea of Doyoung’s crush on him as a joke. It’s just going to come back and bite him on the ass in the end.

He maintains a steady pace towards his own building when the delayed reaction of kissing Yuta on the cheek hits him.

“Hyung, did you run to work or something?” says his favourite co-worker, Jeno. “You look flushed.”

“It was just crowded on the train,” Doyoung replies, wanting to melt into the walls of the elevator in humiliation. They shuffle into the packed elevator and Jeno taps the button for their floor. “How are you?”

“In a bit of a pickle,” Jeno answers with a grimace. They get off and head to the department. “Chenle is avoiding me right now. Just because we had a deep talk and he had to be vulnerable for two seconds so now he’s all embarrassed.”

Doyoung doesn’t say a thing and listens to Jeno vent all the way to their desks. Chenle is one of Jeno’s friends, who Doyoung suspects Jeno likes (but hasn’t realised yet). He’s never met Chenle but sometimes Jeno brings in leftovers for lunch, Chinese food cooked by him.

The day flies past and at five o’clock on the dot, Doyoung clocks out. He’s not here to grind overtime for promotions, he just needs the money and to finish his dissertation.

Automatically, he dials Yuta’s number to see when he’ll be done. It’s normal for Yuta to finish an hour or two later than Doyoung and when that happens, Doyoung usually goes to the company lounge and works on his PhD there and they go home together.

“Hi babe,” Yuta says. There’s some background noise around him and someone talking. “Oh it’s nothing. My wife just called.”

Doyoung chokes loudly on his saliva. Jeno shoots him a concerned glance from his cubicle.

“What do you mean, ‘wife’?” He hisses into the speaker.

Yuta just laughs, silvery and tinkly like bells.

“I’ll be done at seven,” Yuta says apologetically. “Do you want to go out for dinner with hyung?”

“Didn’t you say it was your wife?” pipes up a background voice.

“Wife isn’t gender-specific,” Yuta counters. “Anyone can be a wife.”

“Well, I’m absolutely not yours!” Doyoung barks into the speaker. “And yes to dinner, but only if you’re paying.”

“Teeheehee,” Yuta replies, because only men like Yuta actually say ‘teeheehee’ in daily life. “See you, darling.”

Doyoung sags into the sofa in the lounge area. Wife…how dare Yuta, how dare he…

If he wanted Doyoung to be his wife, oh Doyoung would fucking show him. It’s time to bring Nakamoto Yuta to his knees with one simple strategy.

Around seven, Doyoung packs up and unceremoniously stuffs his laptop and charger into his bag. Yuta had texted that he was outside waiting.

Doyoung makes a quick stop at the bathroom and rakes a hand through his hair, messing it up into the perfect ‘tastefully tousled’ look. Then he loosens his tie slightly and proceeds to undo the top three buttons of his shirt, exposing his collarbones.

Yes, that’s Doyoung’s revenge. He’s well-aware of the power his neck and collarbones hold. As long as they’re not going to a fancy restaurant to eat, it would be fine.

The elevator travels downwards and Doyoung pretends he isn’t fighting a losing battle by trying to flirt back with Yuta. But it definitely works.

“Hi husband,” Doyoung greets for good measure. He cheers inside when Yuta’s gaze travels downwards and rests itself on his collarbones. Yeah, take that. “Where are you thinking of going?”

“Huh?” Yuta blinks. “You choose. I’ll pay for whatever you want. You’re my wife, after all.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes.

“Then can you carry my bag for me, husband dearest? I’m feeling terribly tired,” he swoons, shrugging his rucksack into Yuta’s arms. “And how about Mexican?”

Yuta good-naturedly takes his bag and pats Doyoung on the bottom cheekily.

“Anything you want, dear.”

 

---

 

Something is decidedly off about Yuta. His day at work must have been terribly boring because the flirting is off the charts. The husband/wife skit had continued all the way into the restaurant, to Yuta pulling out Doyoung’s chair for him.

Doyoung ordered for them both, knowing Yuta didn’t particularly care and got himself a glass of wine and Japanese draft beer for Yuta.

“You’ve got wine on your chin,” Yuta says, jabbing at some spot on Doyoung’s face. Doyoung picks up his napkin and wipes the right side of his face.

“Here?”

“No, let me,” Yuta says and like a rom-com protagonist, uses his thumb to wipe the corner of Doyoung’s lips. He even sucks his thumb after with a wink.

Doyoung sits there, trying to act as if he’s unfazed. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Yuta’s become a wild animal. He’s on a rampage. There’s only so much he can take. Inside him, his own wild animal is roaring with raging lust. Lustful rage. Whatever it is, Doyoung is going crazy.

Make no mistake, he’s a lazy guy on all fronts. He prefers to call it efficient. Why waste time on something you can shortcut? But Doyoung’s also easy to provoke. It’s his worst trait and he’s well aware of it. A few pokes and he’ll puff up indignantly, pride abandoned to rise to the challenge of whoever dared besmirch his pride.

Doyoung’s also a wimp too. But make one jab at him and Doyoung will rise to the occasion. This applies to Yuta. There’s a certain threshold on his Yuta-meter where ‘Incessant flirting’ sits. Yuta likes his little jokes and the moment this threshold is crossed, Doyoung breaks and gets the pathological need to dish back what’s being given to him. Which is right now.

The food comes while Doyoung is shaking off Yuta’s psychological attacks.

“Now don’t be naughty, Doyoung-ah,” Yuta is saying. He’s infuriatingly mischievous, eyes smiling at him.

“Or what?” Doyoung replies coyly. “You’ll punish me?” He tilts his gaze at Yuta and bites down on the corner of his bottom lip for good measure.

Yuta splutters, flushing red. Doyoung:1 Yuta: 58. It’s a start.

“What-I-no-” Doyoung has the pleasure of hearing before the waitress comes to put Yuta out of his misery, tray piled with food.

Doyoung tries the burrito.

“Grande? No large,” Yuta mocks, throwing back to that one time Doyoung embarrassed himself in a Mexican restaurant. “I almost peed myself.”

“Shut it,” Doyoung says. The burrito isn’t bad but it’s not the best he’s ever had. “Eat up, hubby.” He’s raising the fork to Yuta’s mouth before he knows it and Yuta clamps his jaws over the forkful of burrito.

“It tastes OK,” Yuta says, eyes fixed on Doyoung. “Oh! Indirect kiss.”

Doyoung puckers his lips in response, heart thudding.

“Direct is right here,” he returns, praising himself for that one.

Oh, come on. Surely Yuta gets the hint. The cringe level of his own words is making him blush. Doyoung might as well be holding a neon sign with his confession on it. Or is he going to categorise it as a joke because it’s not serious to Yuta?

Yuta chooses to take a great interest in the wine menu on the side of the table.

“Oh, they’ve got some pretty pricey items on here,” he mumbles. “You could’ve gotten a better one.”

“Hyung, the menu is upside down.”

“Huh?” Yuta almost looks caught but recovers with a whimsical grin. “Oopsy-daisy!”

Why does Doyoung want to fuck his brains out so badly?

Yuta flashes that killer-watt smile, eyes crinkled as he pays the bill. On the way out, he wraps an arm around Doyoung’s shoulder and squeezes twice, firmly.

“Let’s go home, Doie.”

That’s why, goddamnit.

 

---

 

Doyoung is trying his best to get into the Christmas spirit. Johnny absolutely adores the festive season and Doyoung keeps his tongue in check before he makes a jab about the how commercialised and consumerism-focused the whole thing is. It’s only just turned December 1^st and the kitchen radio has already been set to Christmas carols after Doyoung and Yuta get home from work.

“We have to do this though!” Johnny whines, reverting into his man-child state. “Everyone’s gonna go home for Christmas so we have to celebrate Christmas together early!”

It is a fair point, Doyoung admits. And it’s not like he really minds. The best part of Christmas is watching other people be cute and enthusiastic about it. Taeyong is a sucker for big occasions and gatherings, so he’ll be decorating the corridors with paper chains in no time.

“Of course,” Taeyong is already pulling out the plastic Christmas tree they keep stuffed in the storage cupboard and canvas shopping bags full of baubles and tinsel. “Let’s put the tree up now!” Despite Johnny’s best protest they needed to buy a fresh six foot pine tree every year, he had been shut down eventually. Taeyong refuses to be cleaning pine needles off the floor all month, Jungwoo doesn’t want to carry it up the elevator into their flat or back down. Doyoung had been reluctant too, except his main problem was the irrational fear of the Christmas tree suddenly falling on top of him and crushing him to death. Yuta had sneered at him for that one.

 

Yuta’s already over there helping Taeyong, having grabbed one of the hairbands from the Christmas stuff. It reads ‘hoe hoe hoe’. Johnny had bought it especially for Yuta last year.

Jungwoo is the one who ends up getting roped into various things and is like their Christmas mascot, appearing around the flat in Christmassy outfits like an advent calendar. For now, he’s got antlers on his head. But in the days coming, he appears in a Santa hat, with elf ears and increasingly ugly Christmas jumpers. It’s funny because Jungwoo isn’t dressing himself and he just stands there, adorably bemused by whatever Yuta forces onto him.

Doyoung writes enough on his PhD that he doesn’t need to be scrambling to meet January deadlines and can actually relax for the holidays. His lock screen remains the same, except Taeyong had gone onto his phone to add a Santa hat sticker to both his and Yuta’s heads. And a moustache.

"I did Movember once,” Yuta says, when he catches sight of it the next time.

“Movember?” Taeyong repeats.

“Moustache November,” Johnny clarifies. “I’ve done it too. You just try to grow a moustache out that month.”

“I’ve tried it too,” Jungwoo confesses. All eyes swivel to Doyoung.

“Me too,” he admits. “It was the ugliest wispy thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Bet you looked like those ancient emperors with long wispy beards,” Taeyong says. Doyoung scowls at him as everyone else smirks. “But how come I’ve never heard of this?”

“Because you’re uncultured,” Johnny delivers, quick as lightning. “I think facial hair would suit you. And Jungwoo too. I look quite dapper with a handlebar, if I do say so myself.”

“I look sexy with stubble,” Yuta joins in. “Maybe I should try a goatee or something.”

“No!” Doyoung exclaims, horrified at the idea. He’s surprised by his own passionate outburst too. Yuta stares. They all do.

“I didn’t realise the idea of Yuta with a beard offended you that much,” Jungwoo chuckles. “I think he could pull it off.”

“Mm, I have to do what the missus says,” Yuta says flippantly. “The Yeard is now banned.”

“It never existed,” Taeyong says. “How can you ban something that never happened?"

"It’s banned from coming into existence, are you stupid”? Doyoung fires back.

“No, but you are!”

“You!”

“No, you!”

They begin catfighting, trading ineffective blows at each other.

“Ouch!”

Arms close around Doyoung from behind, wrapping around his chest and he’s pulled away from slapping Taeyong. Similarly, Johnny has Taeyong by the scruff of his neck.

“Don’t make me restrain you more,” Yuta says, breath tickling the back of Doyoung’s neck. Doyoung gulps.

“I thought you listened to the missus,” Doyoung replies, not really feeling the urge to fight his way out of Yuta’s arms. “Release me at once.”

“Say ‘I love Yuta-senpai’!” Yuta says that part in Japanese. Doyoung knows this trick. Before Yuta came here, he lived with this Chinese guy named Sicheng. Sicheng was adorable and Yuta liked to harass him by forcing him to say lines of the female protagonist in shoujo anime to him.

“I love Yuta-oppa!” Doyoung shrieks instead, like a tween fangirl. Yuta’s arms slacken momentarily before they tighten up.

“That wasn’t what I said,” he insists, holding Doyoung even tighter. Doyoung can feel Yuta’s chin dig into his shoulder and his crotch dig into his ass. What the fuck. It’s all because of that damn lock screen. It’s making them unhinged.

So Doyoung is no longer afraid. He is free and unfettered. Doyoung grinds himself back into Yuta. It’s not a big motion by any means but Yuta freezes. Doyoung freezes too, partly at his own audacity.

He realises that Taeyong, Jungwoo and Johnny are all gaping at them. Well, Taeyong probably is. His hand are covering his mouth. And Jungwoo’s hands are covering his eyes. Johnny’s just leering at them.

“Yuta-senpai, I love you!” Doyoung squeaks and breaks free of Yuta’s slack hold. He’s going to dig a deep hole and bury himself inside it.

There’s absolute ground-shaking silence for about five seconds.

“T-there we go!” Yuta cries, his smile too wide to be natural. “All you had to do was obey me!”

“Gays,” Jungwoo mutters under his breath. Doyoung overhears this but chooses to let it slide.

All this kerfuffle only stops when Johnny screeches, bringing everyone to a standstill.

“Why is there a bug?” he yells. “Isn’t this meant to be a fake Christmas tree?” He moves towards the small spider on the ground, foot raised threateningly.

“Stop, STOP!” Taeyong shoves Johnny aside with surprising ease and cradles his hands around the spider. “Don’t kill it, you big oaf!”

“It’s a fucking insect!” Johnny cries. “It’s not even sentient!”

“You clearly don’t know the definition of ‘sentient’,” Doyoung says, just to be contrary. “It means the ability to perceive. I’m very sure that insect can perceive the weight of your foot crushing the life out of it.”

“But not for long!” Johnny says, with a shrug. “I don’t care about Mr. Spider here, sorry not sorry.”

“I have to agree with Johnny here,” Jungwoo says. “It’s not going to suffer much. It’s a quick death. It’s not as if Johnny’s slowly going to pick all its legs off and watch it squirm in agony until it takes its last breath.”

Everyone looks at him, slightly disturbed. There had been a bit too much detail and raw emotion in that sentence.

By now, Taeyong’s scooped the little spider into his hands and is glaring at Johnny.

“You’re safe, don’t worry,” he whispers into his hands. “I’m going to let it out the window and it’s going to be fine.”

“Yuta,” Doyoung announces. “What’s your opinion? Kill or release?”

Yuta blinks at him. It’s currently a tie. Doyoung also hates insects, but he can never bring himself to kill them. Technically spiders are arachnids but that’s beside the point. Of course, he’s not going to touch them. Taeyong can take care of that.

But Doyoung wants to win the flat debate. No more insect deaths will happen here ever again. Their flat will not become a graveyard haunted by the souls of every ant that Johnny has mercilessly stepped on. Doyoung knows Yuta hates insects as well. He just wants Yuta to take his side.

“Whatever you think is right,” Yuta shrugs so nonchalantly Doyoung doesn’t register it.

“Wha-hey! That’s not an opinion!” Doyoung exclaims but Yuta has already run away with a cackle to Taeyong.

“We live on the tenth floor, are you sure the spider’s gonna survive the fall?”

 

---

 

The spider gets put into a box and taken down with Taeyong and released into the street.

“It probably scuttled off then got run over by a bus,” Yuta whispers to Doyoung after Taeyong gets into the lift. Doyoung slaps him from where they’re sprawled on the sofa. Johnny is decorating the tree with Jungwoo but neither of them can be bothered to help. It doesn’t seem like they’re needed either.

“Don’t ruin hyung’s fantasy.” Doyoung clears his throat and shifts around on the sofa. “Anyway, the plan for the holidays is still the same as usual, right?”

Yuta inhales beside him. Last year, Doyoung invited Yuta to stay with his family for Christmas and New Year, given Yuta hadn’t been able to get enough time off work to fly back to Osaka.

“Like last year?” he says cautiously, squeezing Doyoung’s arm.

“Yes,” Doyoung snaps without heat. “What else would I be talking about?”

“Thank you for offering,” says Yuta quietly. “But it’s alright. I’m going home for Christmas this year.”

He wraps an arm around Doyoung’s shoulder to bring them closer together and rests his head there.

“But if you want…” Yuta sounds sheepish. “You could come too?”

Doyoung twists his neck to look at Yuta directly, lips parted in surprise.

"What?"

"I mean, I took advantage of your hospitality so I figured it would be fair if you wanted to,” Yuta says. “Only if you wanted to though.”

Doyoung already knows he’s going to turn Yuta down; he has his own family plans in place but it’s the thought that counts. Yuta was willing to bring Doyoung to meet his family.

“Ha,” breathes out Doyoung, a tongue of flame licking its way up his chest. “It sounds fun but you know how my parents would complain. Gongmyung spent last Christmas at his in-laws. That’s why they were so happy to have you there.”

It had been a dream to have Yuta there with him and meet Doyoung’s extended family. They’d driven together to his house, singing along to the radio and Yuta had marvelled at Doyoung’s bedroom, plastered with his school photos and trophies, his old posters. His parents purposely kept it frozen in time for the memories.

Doyoung watched Yuta charm his parents and capture the hearts of all the aunties and uncles. He watched all his female cousins blush and stutter around Yuta and how he played with the children. And sometimes, with the familial scent of winter holidays, he pretended Yuta was his.

His parents didn’t go all out for Christmas, New Year was more their thing, but for Yuta they made extra effort.

Doyoung thinks back to walks round the neighbourhood, brushing the snow out of Yuta’s hair, arguing over board games and Yuta dying his hair in the bathroom. They shared Doyoung’s room, with a futon for Yuta but sometimes they stayed up late binging on trashy TV and would both fall asleep side by side.

“It would be so cool if you came to Japan with me,” Yuta had said. “We can sit around the kotatsu and peel oranges and talk about life.” Doyoung thought it was a joke.

“Maybe one day,” Doyoung decides and gets up before he does something impulsive.

 

---

 

The holidays pass and Doyoung misses Yuta a bit more than normal. For safety’s sake and to prevent even more teasing from his family, the photo of him and Yuta becomes his phone background rather than lock screen, but Doyoung still looks at it fondly.

This holiday is different though because even though they’re apart, they video call often. Yuta shows Doyoung his kotatsu, his dog and makes Doyoung greet his parents in Japanese. Taeyong joins for one of the calls too, being Doyoung’s hometown friend and everything (somehow Doyoung managed to erase Taeyong from his holiday memories last year, being so focused on Yuta).

“When are you going to confess, Doie?” Taeyong laments to him. “At this point, I think it’s more than a crush you’ve got here.”

Taeyong is right but Doyoung doesn’t want to admit it out loud. Even if he sometimes flirts back at Yuta and it seems like Yuta is reciprocating, Doyoung just can’t. He’s still a coward in that aspect.

“If Yuta really likes me, it’ll happen naturally,” Doyoung insists. “Why don’t we talk about how you and Johnny have been getting closer recently?”

“I know you’re changing the topic on purpose,” Taeyong says, ears red but he takes the bait anyway.

Yuta arrives back at the flat a few days after them, bearing gifts and souvenirs for everyone. He looks all fresh, revitalised from being in his hometown after quite some time.

“I may have forgotten all my Korean,” he warns jovially, pulling snacks out his bag like Santa. Everyone gets a little snow globe and Yuta slaps a Tokyo Tower magnet onto the fridge. “Merry New Year.”

Everyone had come out to greet him and Yuta takes turns hugging them all in turn. He smacks Jungwoo on the ass, pinches Johnny’s and picks Taeyong up, twirling him in a circle while laughing. Then he gets to Doyoung, face neutral.

Suddenly, Doyoung’s stomach twists. He’s got his arms out ready for his hug too when Yuta circumvents him with a head pat.

Eh?

“Where’s my hug, you bitch?” Doyoung says and grabs Yuta by the neck from behind. “I missed you a lot,” he says quieter into Yuta’s ear so no one else hears.

Yuta giggles and turns around to give Doyoung a proper hug.

“Same.”

Yuta’s presence is so imposing (and he’s always in boots) so Doyoung sometimes forgets Yuta is the tiniest bit shorter. He sniffs Yuta’s hair and squeezes Yuta tightly to his chest. Yuta hugs him just as tightly back, like they’re trying to break each other in half.

“In public?” Johnny cuts through, looking supremely unimpressed. They separate, Doyoung’s neck feeling hotter than before. Taeyong smirks at him.

“Gays,” Jungwoo mutters under his breath again, except this time everyone hears him loud and clear. Taeyong chokes on his spit.

Yuta raises an eyebrow at him questioningly. Jungwoo’s expression could be framed on a wall.

"Indeed we are,” Yuta says coolly and warm fingers close around Doyoung’s wrist. “And now the gays are leaving.”

He pulls Doyoung into his room just as Jungwoo begins stammering in apology, looking bewildered.

As soon as the door closes, Yuta bursts out laughing and muffles it with his pillow.

“I knew you wouldn’t actually be mad,” Doyoung says, disgruntled. “You’ve probably got Jungwoo scared for your life right now.”

Yuta’s suitcase is unzipped and half unpacked by the bed. Doyoung’s face flames when he sees the neon green butt plug poking out through the clothes.

They are all grown men. They all have sex. Yuta in particular makes his sex everyone’s business. Doyoung exhales heavily and Yuta mistakes it for irritation, rather than Doyoung calming his erection.

“Jungwoo isn’t really upset, is he?” Yuta says, looking apologetic. “Maybe I took it too far.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Doyoung says, in control again. “Johnny is probably pissing his pants laughing at him right now.”

He hasn’t been in Yuta’s room as often though. Usually if they congregate into someone’s room (read: invade), it’s Jungwoo or Taeyong's. Taeyong keeps his room spick and span and he doesn’t mind people chilling on his bed, whereas Johnny is a bit messier. Doyoung hasn’t stopped people coming in, but he likes to give himself a private space besides the bathroom so he doesn’t go crazy.

Yuta is always having sex in his bedroom so for that reason, everyone subconsciously avoids it. Piling themselves onto Yuta’s bed, knowing how many people have been on it seems a bit strange.

Doyoung proceeds to sit on the bed and lays down among the jackets and hoodies strewn over it.

“Your bed is pretty comfy,” he tells Yuta. Maybe his shirt rides up a bit.

Yuta glances around twitchily at the walls. Doyoung just wants to force Yuta to look at him.

“Uh yeah, I have a mattress topper under the sheets,” he says, still averting his gaze. “Maybe you should get one too.”

“Am I like one of your hook-ups right now?” His traitorous mouth ignores Yuta and heads towards another topic entirely. God! Why does his filter always disappear like this? But no way was Doyoung going to lie on Yuta’s bed and discuss mattresses with him. “Or do they push you down onto the bed?”

Yuta finally looks at him, a little out of it. He approaches the bed.

“It depends,” he says dryly and slams both hands either side of Doyoung’s face, crouched on all fours over him, “if I’m feeling like being in control or not.”

Doyoung can feel himself getting hard. Is this happening? For real?

“How are you feeling?” he whispers, eyes boring into Yuta’s. Yuta’s eyes are like black onyx.

“Like we should go and check on Jungwoo.” Yuta climbs off him and opens the bedroom door.

It’s an instant whiplash moment again. Yuta and his hot-and-cold tactics again. Surely Yuta had dragged Doyoung into his bedroom, his scared domain, for a reason other than to prank Jungwoo?

Or not? He’s confused again. This is why he can’t be sure if Yuta really likes him. Yuta could be joking. The whole thing could be a joke that he laughs about behind Doyoung’s back.

“Doyoung?” Yuta startles Doyoung out his rant.

“Let’s go,” Doyoung says brusquely, pushing past Yuta a bit harder than necessary, very much feeling like a jilted bride left at the altar.

Doyoung spends the rest of the afternoon in his room, ruminating.

He’s trying to analyse his data and make some pretty graphs (diverging stacked bar charts for the win) but Yuta’s face, inches from his keeps replaying. It had been all the more intense because they’d been horizontal.

Stupid Yuta and this goddamn selfie. It’s his lock screen again after he left his family’s but right now he wants to throw his phone out the window.

Or you could just change the lock screen…

But for some reason that feels like losing. Doyoung just puts his phone on silent and turns his phone over. He shuts the data analysis software he was using down and pulls up a drama instead.

It’s driving him crazy. Yuta is driving him crazy like this. He rubs his eyes. Fuck. His stomach is growling but Doyoung can’t be bothered to go the kitchen and make dinner like an adult. He can’t be bothered to order food and wait for it to come.

What he wants is ice cream. But the freezer is empty.

The drama distracts him for a while as he gets absorbed into the plot. He’s lying in bed, laptop on his knees as he watches. It’s one of those thrillers, full of suspense.

Doyoung is okay now. Maybe he will go and make dinner soon after all.

And then he hears it. The creak of a bed, repetitive noises that can only mean one thing. And it’s from Yuta’s side. He can hear Yuta moaning now.

His appetite dries up immediately. Even though Doyoung hasn’t eaten dinner, he feels sick. Turning up the volume on his headphones he tries to distract himself with the drama but it’s no use, his focus has already broken.

He wants to cry, but he refuses to cry in his room to the sound of Yuta fucking someone else. It would make him both horny and depressed which is one of the worst combinations possible.

Why is he so upset anyway? It isn’t as if Yuta hasn’t done this the entire time. It’s just routine, by now.

Doyoung swallows hard and goes to the kitchen instead, trying to block out the horrible, horrible sounds of Yuta boning someone that is not him. After everything that had happened today! Doyoung had almost thought…Well, more fool him.

Jungwoo’s in the kitchen, heating something up in the microwave.

“Hey Doyoung-hyung,” he says, not looking up from his phone. Doyoung composes himself and clears his throat.

“Hey,” he greets in return and opens the fridge. A bunch of meet and vegetables greet him. It’s too much. Oh, fuck it. He’s just going to do ramen today and maybe add an egg…and some spam. He’s got green onion too. Chuck in some frozen vegetables and he’ll call it a day.

The kettle is boiling and Jungwoo is still hovering, frying an additional egg when a particularly loud moan echoes down the hallway.

Doyoung shatters the egg gripped in his hand. Burst yolk and gloopy egg white drips onto the counter.

Wordlessly, Jungwoo passes Doyoung a paper towel. His fried egg is done and he takes the pan off heat. Neither of them say a word as Doyoung cooks his ramen, adding in all the ingredients and pours it into a bowl.

Then Jungwoo gives him a big hug. And Doyoung had been trying so hard to hold it in! But Jungwoo’s hugs are different. They’re soft and compassionate and full of understanding. Jungwoo doesn’t always comfort you with words, his hugs alone are enough to soothe. The tears nearly flow out but Doyoung looks upwards and blinks hard enough to prevent it.

“Jungwoo, the ramen will get soggy,” Doyoung whines when he’s the one who has Jungwoo in a chokehold and won’t let him go.

“Let’s eat in front of the TV together,” suggests Jungwoo slowly. “I feel like we haven’t had some ‘us’ time in a while.”

Like that, Doyoung forgets about it all and relaxes with Jungwoo. They find a quiz show that has them yelling answers at the screen with increasing rage.

“The pigs eat fucking ACORNS!” Doyoung hollers. “Iberico ham only comes from pigs who eat acorns!”

“Shout that a bit louder, will you?” Jungwoo says but he’s laughing too. “How do you even know that?”

Doyoung is asking him the same questions when Jungwoo somehow knows Minsk is the capital of Belarus. Johnny and Taeyong pop in at various times, both make food then take it back to their rooms, today is evidently a day everyone wants some alone time. No one mentions Yuta.

The man himself comes in when the food has long been finished and now Single’s Inferno is playing on Netflix. His hair is damp, and a mark peeks out his t-shirt collar.

“How’s it going?” Yuta says and sits down with them, next to Doyoung. Doyoung stiffens like a board. “They’ve left, sorry if there was any noise.”

“I hope you get into BDSM and buy a ball-gag,” Jungwoo says mildly. “It would really help the noise issues.”

Yuta bursts out laughing. Doyoung’s face remains stony.

“The only man that can tell me to shut up is Doie,” he comments, squeezing Doyoung’s knee. “Were you jealous, babe?”

“Yes,” Doyoung says quietly, ignoring the screaming in his brain. Jungwoo turns deathly pale. “I was.”

“Hahaha-you what?” Yuta’s jaw drops and stays hanging open for a good ten seconds before he remembers to close it.

“I really need to take a shit,” Jungwoo proclaims and stands up, dumps his dishes in the sink (which is against the flat rules) and speed-walks out the kitchen.

“I was jealous!” Doyoung repeats, facing Yuta. He’s so angry he’s about to explode. He is exploding. Ever since that doomed selfie, the back-and-forth from Yuta, Doyoung wants it over. He is so done with losing his mind and freaking out while Yuta flirts with then hooks up with other people!

“Doie?” Yuta says cautiously but there’s no stopping Doyoung once he’s put his mind to it.

“Yes, hyung,” Doyoung acidly. “I like you. I really fucking like you. I’ve liked you for ages. I’ve probably liked you ever since you moved in, to be honest.”

Oh my god. He’s said it. Finally.

But Yuta looks like a deer in headlights, totally flabbergasted.

“Oh fuck, I didn’t know you were seriously flirting back,” he says apologetically. “Oh my god, I’m so stupid. I would have never had if I knew-”

“If you knew I really liked you?” Doyoung bites out. All he can think is it was joke to Yuta, it was a joke to him. “Because it’s not funny if only one side is joking?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Yuta says desperately. “Listen to me, Doyoung!”

“No, you listen!” Doyoung cuts him off harshly, unable to think straight. Everything coming out of him is raw unfiltered emotion. It’s that horrible wet anger where he knows his voice is going to crack and tears will fall and snot will drip as he keeps talks. “I’ve been going crazy for months not knowing if you’re just fucking around with me or not and I always think we’re getting somewhere but then you go and fuck somebody else! You’re breaking my heart!” The tears are already dribbling down his cheeks.

Yuta looks utterly horrified. Of course, he does, Doyoung’s just embarrassed himself and probably ruined their friendship forever. Maybe it is all his fault. Yuta flirts with everyone, he was the only idiot who took it seriously. God, look at how Yuta is with Sicheng, with Mark, with Jungwoo. It’s all his fault.

“Doyoung, that’s not it! You have to listen, I did have someone over today but-” Yuta never manages to finish his sentence because Doyoung is already walking out, face like a thunderstorm.

He makes a beeline for Taeyong’s room and knocks, praying Taeyong opens the door quickly. Yuta is already coming out the kitchen, eyes frantic.

“Doyoung! Come back!” he pleads.

Taeyong opens his door and looks down the hallway. His eyes dart from Doyoung’s to Yuta’s and understanding dawns.

“Come in,” he says and whisks Doyoung in, sharpish, leaving Yuta outside like a lost dog.

Yuta knocks, knuckles rapping sharply on the wood.

"I don’t want to talk to him,” Doyoung snivels. “Make him go away.”

“Now’s not really a good time, Yuta,” Taeyong calls apologetically. “Doie, what the fuck happened?”

Doyoung explains everything. How they’d shared another moment, only Yuta to bring someone home again.

“That idiot,” Taeyong curses, fingers pressed to his temples. “Really, Doyoung. Maybe not today, but when you feel better but you need to talk to Yuta and sort things out.”

“Yeah yeah,” Doyoung grumbles, hugging Taeyong’s plushies so hard they’re being asphyxiated. He’s never going to talk Yuta ever again if it’s possible. All he feels is anger! Resentment! Shame! He’s gone and made a fool of himself, rightfully yelled at Yuta (he’s definitely right) and is feeling very crazy.

He cries for a bit in Taeyong’s room but starts to feel bad for Taeyong, whose Netflix show is now displaying ‘Still watching?’ and wants to let him get back to his show.

“Don’t be silly, stay as long as you need,” Taeyong insists but Doyoung shakes his head. He wants to be alone.

He doesn’t want to turn his room into a depression chamber so instead he puts his coat on and heads out, even though it’s half eight. The night is young and Doyoung’s risk awareness is currently zero. He doesn’t tell anyone where he’s going and that’s very irresponsible but Doyoung is tired. He is going to do whatever the fuck he wants, just like Yuta.

He walks until he isn’t angry anymore and begins shivering from the cold as the temperature has dropped dramatically an hour later. His breath mists in front of him and the streetlights are bathing him in with their warm glow.

There’s a crowded street full of bars and restaurant with neon signs and Doyoung enters the first respectable-looking establishment he sees. The temperature change is dramatic and Doyoung’s soon warm enough that he takes his coat off.

He gets a coffee and dumps a glass of whisky into it, creating his own Irish coffee. It warms him up and gives him a kick. God, he hates Yuta. He wants to throttle him.

Doyoung keeps ordering, vaguely annoyed at how his high tolerance is costing him when someone slides into the seat beside him.

“Are you okay?” they say. “You’ve had a lot of drink.”

Oh. His eyes focus on Jeno, in casual clothes. Of course he’d be, he’s not at work. He’s in a leather jacket and jeans. Beside him are the friends he always talks about to Doyoung. Chenle is there too, in a denim jacket, peeking curiously at him over Jeno’s shoulder.

“I’m absolutely fine,” Doyoung says and he really is, he’s had a lot to drink but is only buzzed. “I’m just enjoying a little solitude.”

“This is your co-worker?” says another guy, grinning mischievously at him. “He’s pretty hot.”

“Jaemin!” Jeno hisses. “Shut up!”

“I don’t mind,” Doyoung sighs. Maybe his lips are looser than usual. “What use is it being hot when it isn’t getting me the person I want?”

“Yuta?” Jeno guesses. “Oh, hyung, I’m so sorry.”

Someone else snickers besides him.

“I bet I could pull this Yuta guy.”

“Who asked, Donghyuck? No one.” Someone else replies, elbowing him. “Can’t you tell Doyoung-ssi is…obviously not okay?”

“A little humour always helps, Renjun.” Renjun elbows him again.

“I’m okay,” Doyoung interjects. “I’m only a little bit sad.”

“Sad and handsome,” Jaemin says brilliantly. He turfs Jeno out of his bar stool and sits down next to Doyoung instead. “I don’t mind keeping you company.”

“Yeah, I’m out of here,” Renjun says and drags Donghyuck away with him.

“Jaemin,” Jeno says warningly but he doesn’t intervene. Doyoung also doesn’t want him to intervene. Jaemin looks about Jeno’s age, so four years his junior and has a wicked set of chompers. Very bright and dazzling.

Much like Yuta’s annoying smile. Ugh. He doesn’t want to think about him.

“Jaemin will be fine. So will Doyoung,” Chenle decides on behalf of the group, who is torn between looking after a clearly inebriated and heartbroken man or leaving said man in the clutches of their devilish friend. “They’re both adults.”

“But-“ Jeno still looks worried. Doyoung waves him off.

“Don’t worry. This won’t affect anything at work.” He’s talking as if he’s actually going to do something with Jaemin.

“That’s not it,” Jeno says. “I like you a lot, hyung.”

Jaemin wolf-whistles.

“Oh, is that a confession?”

“Yeah, is it?” Chenle says, frowning.

“Guys!” Jeno says, flushing. “I mean, I see you as more than a co-worker. You’re my friend too.” Chenle relaxes again and continues to nuzzle into Jeno’s side.

“And I’m sure Doyoung and I will get along famously,” Jaemin says with a shrug. “Now, will you leave and let me work my game?”T

To no one’s surprise, they end up fucking. Jaemin is aware of the situation and can tell it’s purely a physical transaction. Doyoung finds himself having a very good time.

Doyoung spends the night over at Jaemin, snoozes in his bed and feels infinitely better. It had been almost therapeutic. His stomach turns at the thought of seeing Yuta again, however.

Jaemin makes himself an alarmingly large amount of espresso, Doyoung takes a double and they sit down to breakfast in Jaemin’s stunning penthouse apartment. Turns out Jaemin is a promising lawyer whose salary is probably more than his and Jeno’s combined.

“Do you still want that Yuta guy?” Jaemin asks. “Because now you’re not sexually frustrated, I think you’d have better judgement.”

Doyoung nods miserably.

“It’s not even a question I need to ask. I’ve known it’s been more than physical for months. I just wanted to fuck around and see if it helps me feel better.”

“And does it?” Jaemin asks curiously. “I’d rather not have you go home and see this as a regret-fuck.”

“I’d probably feel bad if I unpacked this but I’m not going to. I feel quite happy for now,” Doyoung responds, breaking apart one of the pastries Jaemin had set out on the table.

“Understandable.”

“I should go to work,” Doyoung says with a sigh. “I’m sure you have to head off too.” He’s also just switched on his phone after charging it on Jaemin’s nightstand and it’s blowing up with missed calls and notifications from Taeyong, Jungwoo and Johnny. Nothing from Yuta.

“Yup, there’s nothing like negotiating finances between divorcing couples.” Jaemin agrees. “This was a nice one-time thing.”

“It was,” Doyoung says. “Maybe I’ll see you again with Jeno another time.”

They part amicably and Doyoung gets on the ttain to work. It’s not like he’s over Yuta, but he’s just occupied his mind with something else. Work passes quickly and Doyoung gets off the lift, only to see Yuta waiting in the lobby, looking pissed as hell.

Yuta might be a sweetheart but his resting bitchface is no joke.

“Where have you been?” he says, first thing. “We were all so worried when you didn’t answer your phone”?

“You were?” Doyoung replies haughtily, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t remember getting anything from you.”

“Taeyong was upset,” Yuta retorts, like that wins the argument. It kind of does because everyone hates seeing Taeyong upset but Doyoung is still mad and doesn’t want to talk to Yuta.

“I’m an adult, I can do what I want,” Doyoung seethes, pushing past him. Yuta follows behind, jogging slightly to keep up. “And I replied when I woke up. My phone ran out of battery.”

“And it’s not like you can say anything,” he says pointedly to Yuta. “Your body count is triple mine.”

“You went out to-?” Yuta stops in his tracks. “Look, we really must talk. About what you said.”

“You can pretend I never said it,” Doyoung keeps walking and Yuta has to run again to keep up. God, he can’t keep going for much longer. Yuta is fitter than him and if Doyoung keeps speed-walking, he’s going to get a stitch. “I must have lost my mind.”

“Doyoung, please.” Yuta says beseechingly. They move through the ticket barriers and down to the platform in stony silence. “You surprised me and what I meant to say ended up coming out wrong. There’s a lot more to it.”

“I don’t think so,” Doyoung insists and just to be contrary, when they get on the train, he moves down the carriage through the thicket of bodies so Yuta can’t even follow him.

Part of him wants to hear what Yuta has to say and there’s a seed of hope still in his heart but the louder more malicious part of him is enjoying seeing Yuta flounder at his expense. Maybe he’s being toxic but seeing Yuta confused feels like giving him a taste of his own medicine, even if there’s the chance Yuta wasn’t intentionally messing with Doyoung.

Is that possible? Can one person be so oblivious? But Yuta was sleeping with other people.

Doyoung is confronted with he fact he literally hooked up with Jaemin while liking Yuta. It’s not impossible to have sex without feelings. He just proved it to himself.

Maybe Doyoung is being a little unreasonable. But he just isn’t ready to face Yuta and possibly being shot down. So he keeps avoiding Yuta.

A couple days of avoidance later, Yuta’s apologetic attitude and patience wears thin. Doyong keeps brushing him off, making short comments and not giving him a chance to talk.

The entire flat gets caught up in their fight. No one is happy about it. Any time Doyoung sees Yuta, they either maintain an icy politeness or one of them makes an excuse to leave.

“It’s not a fight,” Yuta says angrily. “Doyoung just won’t let me talk to him.”

Doyoung is skulking in the corner and crosses his arms, nose up. Humph. He absolutely isn’t.

“Whatever it is,” Johnny snaps, looking incredibly fed-up, “I don’t want to be part of your weird hook-up competition.”

Both of them glare at Johnny furiously. It’s not a competition! Except over the past week, Doyoung has hooked up with two more people, some guy called Jaehyun who seemed like a nerdy loser but possessed the body of a Greek god. Then there’d been this very odd encounter with a guy named Hoshi(Doyoung is certain it wasn’t his real name) who ended up having a huge cat/tiger fetish. Doyoung had refused to explain why there had been roaring coming from his room. He hasn’t been paying attention to Yuta, not at all but he has the full ID and address of every person Yuta has slept with and he’s not planning on doing anything with that information but…he still hasn’t deleted it. Just in case, you know.

“For the love of God, stop being so stubborn!” Taeyong begs Doyoung later that week, actually on his knees. “I don’t want to intervene too much, it’s not my place but I’m so tired.”

Doyoung hesitates. Taeyong is someone he’s known for a long time after all but...but he’s scared.

“I’ll try, Yong.” He placates Taeyong, starting to feel bad. Maybe he’s being kind of selfish.

But every single time, just as he’s getting close to talking to Yuta properly, Yuta brings someone new home. Doyoung is once again horny, heartbroken, and angry and loses the ability to think rationally. In a primal rage, he ventures out and finds his own hook-up, resulting in this pointless one-upping competition.

Taeyong loses it with Doyoung after the fifth or sixth hook-up and stalks into Doyoung’s room, not even caring that there’s a man still naked under the covers with him, Shohei. Him being Japanese too was just a coincidence. Seriously.

“For fuck’s sake!” Taeyong bellows, “Grow the fuck up, Doyoung!” Shohei looks terrified, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Why don’t you go shout at Yuta too?” Doyoung retaliates, crossing his arms. He can’t even bask in post-nut bliss for a few minutes before being brought back to reality, goddamn.

“I am! You’re just not there to hear me!” Taeyong yells. “I’m tired of this! Can you just stop your slut era and stop running from your problems?”

“I did not sign up for this,” Shohei says, voice gravelly and tries to get out of bed.

“Not yet!” Taeyong hollers at him. He’s got his scary glare on, one that rarely comes out. Shohei sighs and pulls the covers over his head.

“Tell me when it’s over,” he tells Doyoung and disappears into the duvet.

“What’s happening here now?” There’s a knock on the door and Jungwoo pokes his head in. “I hear raised voices.”

“All of you get out!” Doyoung screams and throws his pillows at them. “I’m literally butt-naked!”

“Well, you might as well walk around naked, you walnut-brained nincompoop, because all you’re doing is fucking anything that moves!” Taeyong spits and  hasJungwoo to physically restrain him to stop Taeyong from launching himself onto the bed at him (and the unfortunate Shohei).

“Are you slut-shaming me right now?” Doyoung can’t believe it. Yuta has been sleeping around for the past year. Why all the flack when he decides to use his allure to do the same? Ignoring the fact he’s only doing it because of Yuta, he feels very attacked.

“There’s no point even talking to you right now,” Taeyong sighs. “Come back to me when you pull your head out your ass.” Jungwoo sighs too and follows Taeyong out the room.

“Can I go now?” Shohei rumbles from under the covers. Doyoung grunts in response and Shohei emerges, face red and hair sticking up.

“I hope you sort your drama out,” Shohei says gravely, pulling on his socks before his trousers (definitely a red flag, Doyoung thinks). “Yuta’s a nice guy.”

“You know him?” Doyoung’s eyes bug out his head. “You’re joking.”

“We go way back,” Shohei chuckles. “We’re not that close but we have a mutual friend. Oh and we hooked up a few years ago.”

So Doyoung’s basically fucked Yuta by proxy. Yuta’s fucked Shohei and he has too…so they’ve indirectly fucked. What the hell. His life is really reaching new lows.

Yuta’s sloppy seconds? Doyoung thinks, scandalised. Despite it being some years ago, Doyoung still feels slighted by Yuta in some way. Maybe Yuta did this on purpose, planted Shohei on him. Maybe him and Shohei are cackling together at Doyoung’s expense. OK, probably not, he’s just being dramatic.

Anyway, now even Taeyong is ignoring Doyoung (and probably Yuta too). Johnny is mad, Jungwoo is tired and also reaching his breaking point. They’ve even gone out for a flat dinner without Doyoung and Yuta, who have been ‘sexiled’ because they’d only pollute the atmosphere with their bad vibes.

Like all things, it reaches a climax.

Doyoung heads out, on the prowl. He’s been doing this so often his get-ready routine is pristine. The tight black turtleneck and skinny jeans is easy and makes him look impossibly sexy. Some dark eyeshadow and he’s basically the hotter version of Edward Cullen.

He goes to his usual haunt, a reputable bar which is always reliably filed with hot people to pick up. Doyoung’s aware while he hits up the bars, Yuta goes with the club so they’ve never had a run-in. God, how awkward that would’ve been.

In no time, Doyoung zeroes in on one of the hottest men he’s seen so far, sexy yet looking impossibly soft in a knitted cardigan and wire-framed glasses. He seems like a refined gentleman, morosely swirling his whiskey on the rocks.

“Can I get you a drink?” Doyoung says, sliding next to him. It’s cliché but Doyoung’s hot and confident enough for it to work.

“Sure,” the man says, dimples appearing. “I’m Qian Kun.”

“Kim Doyoung.”

They begin talking and Doyoung loses himself in the small talk. Kun is an assistant professor who also enjoys producing music, doing magic tricks, cooking, sky-diving and adopting teenagers by accident. He is also single and had gently slid a hand onto Doyoung’s knee and squeezed it on and off for the last ten minutes.

Doyoung looks Kun in the eye as he places his hand over Kun’s and slides their hands up his thigh.

“You want to get out of here?” he suggests and Kun nods, with a slight smirk. They’re not crass enough to make-out in the taxi (only Yuta would do that, Doyoung thinks) but Doyoung lies his head down onto Kun’s lap and they exchange heavy stares, loaded with the promise of what’s to come.  

By the time they’ve gone up the elevator to the flat, Doyoung is very excited and ready to fuck Kun’s brains out or vice versa, he’s not fussed.

However, as Doyoung is unlocking the door, he hears giggling and a horrible slurping noise that turns out to be Yuta coming out the elevator, being necked by some other guy, short with tattoos all over him. Yuta looks amazing as always. His earrings are in, nails freshly painted black and he’s got eyeliner on. He looks like a rockstar with his crop top and exposed butterfly tattoo.

Kun also turns to see the source of the noise and his face turns ghostly pale.

“Ten?” he says incredulously. The tattooed guy’s head snaps towards them at the mention of his apparent name.

“Kun?” ‘Ten’ gasps. Doyoung stares at them both. They stare at each other. Yuta stares at all three of them.

“What are you doing?” Kun says, astonished.

“I,” proclaims Ten snippily, “found myself this lovely man named Yuta and we’re about to go shag each other’s brains out.”

“You-!” Kun sighs. Ten wrinkles his nose in annoyance.

“It’s not like you’re doing anything different. Aren’t you doing the exact same thing as me?” Ten says. He glances disparagingly at Doyoung. “4/10.” Kun chokes on his spit and so does Doyoung.

“Excuse me?!” Doyoung cries. Four? Four!? He’s never been so offended in his entire life! At worst he’s a six! “If I’m a 4/10 then you’re below zero, which is funny considering your name is Ten!”

“As if anyone I pick up is less than a ten,” Yuta says, speaking up for the first time. He glares menacingly at Doyoung and puts an arm around Ten’s waist. Doyoung feels a red mist settling over him. Ten is his mortal enemy, sent by God to torment him.

He grabs Kun’s hand instead of falling for Yuta’s provocation.

“Ignore them,” he declares, “Follow me,” He watches Yuta’s grip tighten on Ten’s waist and takes exceptional pleasure in the way Ten winces. They maintain fiery eye contact the entire time.

Kun doesn’t follow him and remains rooted to the spot. His eyes are narrowed and it seems like he’s connecting the dots.

“I think we’ve found a mirror of ourselves, Ten.” Kun says calmly. Ten twists his head like an owl and blinks. His mouth makes an ‘O’.

Can someone catch Doyoung up on why his and Yuta’s hook-ups seem to have a very intricate and complex relationship?

“What’s Kun talking about, Ten?” Yuta asks, arms folded. Doyoung snorts. Yuta walks towards him, grabbing his wrist, eyebrows slanted in a frown.

“Laugh again, why don’t you?” he says. It’s meant to be scary but it’s also the most skin contact they’ve had for weeks. Doyoung’s knees goes weak at the blast of proximity.

“Oh, I see it now,” Ten says, nodding to Kun thoughtfully. “How about we call a truce for tonight?”

“That sounds wise,” Kun agrees. They sound like they’re at a seminar, instead of analysing their hook-ups. “I’m absolutely not becoming part of this. This is also making me realise…we probably look just as stupid as they do.”

“Hey!” Yuta and Doyoung protest simultaneously. They glare at each other. “We don’t look stupid!”

Ten laughs and walks right over to Kun till they’re chest-to-chest. Kun steps backwards but he’s already against the wall. Yuta and Doyoung watch it play out with morbid fascination.  

“You know what? Why don’t we just hook up with each other?” Ten says breathily, cupping Kun’s chin. “I’ve missed you, Kun.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kun breathes fondly and leans in, kissing Ten on the lips lightly. “I’ve always missed you too, Ten.”

Doyoung and Yuta watch aghast as Ten and Kun entwine their fingers and begin to walk towards the elevator. Are they being…abandoned by their hook-ups?

“Sort your shit out, guys!” Ten says, waving goodbye. “Sorry about that, Yuta and 4/10! But it’s for the greater good.”

Kun waves too, smiling sheepishly.

“Ignore Ten, Doyoung. You’re very hot. Also thank you, you’ve helped us without even knowing.” The elevator pings and the doors slide open. Kun and Ten step in and immediately forget about anyone else’s existence. Ten pounces on Kun just as the doors are sliding shut. Doyoung hopes they’re not going to try and fuck in the elevator. It’s official. Their hook-ups just left them to hook-up with each other. You can’t write jokes funnier than this.

“Well,” Yuta says, at a loss.

“Well,” agrees Doyoung, speechless.

They both burst out laughing. Doyoung’s laughing so hard he can’t breathe, stomach cramping till it’s painful. Yuta is in a similar state, bent over and clutching at the wall for support.

The ridiculousness of the situation is getting to their heads. Doyoung straightens up, still gasping for breath and thinks how much he’s missed laughing with Yuta like this.

“If this isn’t a sign from the universe for us to talk, I don’t know what is,” Yuta says. “Will you listen to me now?”

Doyoung nods and his heart immediately begins racing like he’s about to have the toughest job interview of his life. He follows Yuta into the flat to his room.

The suitcase is gone, no butt plug out on display (thank God) and everything is tidied up.

Doyoung sits on the bed again, very much feeling déjà vu and dread forming a pit in his stomach. Yuta crosses his legs and sits on the floor in front of him. Doyoung wants to tell him to sit on the bed next to him because he’s beginning to feel incredibly shitty with how he handled everything, and it seems more polite.But Yuta’s already gotten started so he can only listen.

“So I royally fucked up how I phrased everything back then,” Yuta begins. “But you were also wrong for not letting me explain.”

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung admits with incredible effort. Apologising always sucks. Yuta sucks in a breath. Doyoung appreciates the fact Yuta is breathing shallowly and looks just as nervous as Doyoung feels.

“When I said I would never have flirted with you if I knew you’d liked me, if you still do…” Yuta trails off for a moment then clears his throat. “I just felt bad I’d probably been hurting with you. I really didn’t mean to mess with you. I know I flirt with everyone as a joke but I didn’t do it to mess with you. I promise.”

Yuta sighs and covers his face with his hands.

“This is going to be embarrassing,” His voice comes out muffled. “OK.”

Yuta makes direct eye contact with Doyoung. Doyoung feels a thrill up his neck. His palms are sweaty.

“I feel like I went too far with joking around. I’d cross some invisible line then I’d get scared when…when you reciprocated.”

“Why would you be scared?” Doyoung says, puzzled. “Of me?”

“Because you’re you!” Yuta blurts out. “You’re so cool! You’re amazing. You’re a year younger than me but you’re more mature than me in so many ways. You can cook, you’re a natural leader, you even took care of me during the holidays last year. You’re balancing a full-time job with a PhD, for crying out loud!”

Doyoung is utterly gobsmacked.

“You’re too good for me,” Yuta concludes, very pink now. “If you haven’t got the message, I really like you too, Doyoung. Have for a while now. I might seem like this cool confident guy but well…I have my own insecurities too.”

Not to be rude but Doyoung doesn’t process the rest of what Yuta says because his brain stops at ‘I really like you too, Doyoung’.

“I’m not trying to make excuses, but I do hook-up with people as a coping mechanism. I couldn’t ever see you liking me back so I just relieved my emotions that way. To try and get over you, I suppose. That’s why I was so shocked when” you suddenly confessed!” Yuta throws his hands to the ceiling. “I could barely speak! So of course I messed it all up.”

“You like me?” Doyoung asks cautiously. “You…have romantic feelings for me? You do?”

“Absolutely,” Yuta answers. “I-if you still want me, of course.”

“Why are you being so apologetic?” Doyoung groans. “I feel like the bad guy now. If I’d just been less emotional and just listened to you...oh my god. Taeyong was right all along. He’s going to kill me. I’m going to kill me. I’ve been a dick too. I’m sorry, Yuta.”

“Not gonna deny it,” Yuta says with a slight smile. That gets a snort out of Doyoung. But Yuta still looks uncertain.

“And I still like you, you idiot,” Doyoung says and climbs off the bed so he can sit facing Yuta on the floor. Yuta shifts backwards to make space for him. “You think I could confess like that then lose my feelings so fast?”

“I mean, you did go and sleep with half the city recently,” Yuta points out but he’s looking a lot happier now.

“As did you.”

“Can we just agree we could’ve both handled things better?” Yuta says. “The important thing is…we both like each other.”

It hits Doyoung then too. His hopeless crush is reciprocated. And he’s missed Yuta so much the past few weeks. Not taking the train together to work, picking each other up, no smiles and hugs. They’ve got so much to catch up on.

Doyoung reaches his arms out for a hug and Yuta complies a bit too enthusiastically, crashing into his chest with an ‘oomph’.

Yuta’s leaning into him and Doyoung is about to close his eyes for a kiss when they both pause. It feels a bit too much, strangely.

“Is it just me or-?” They look at each other in understanding.

“We’ve basically kissed eighty different people in the past few weeks," Yuta says. “I feel like we need a cool-off period. Reboot the system and all that.”

“It’s quite impressive we’re still here after sleeping with all those people.” Doyoung thinks. “Definitely very weird and not conventional though.”

“Well, we can be weird,” Yuta dismisses, smiling warmly at Doyoung. Affection blooms in Doyoung’s chest and he snuggles further into Yuta. Yuta’s a little sweaty, probably from dancing at the club but the scent of his aftershave still clings to him and Doyoung breathes it in.

“I missed you so much,” Doyoung whispers. “I’m so happy right now.” He yawns.

“And also very tired.”

They’re both so emotionally drained from the conversation they both climb into bed. It’s very much against Doyoung’s principles, they’re unwashed, in outdoor clothes and he hasn’t taken his make-up off but he’s too happy to snuggle with Yuta again to care.

“We should tell the others we’ve made up,” Doyoung says suddenly, sitting up.

“Wait till tomorrow,” Yuta groans, trying to tug Doyoung back down to the bed. “It’s 2am now.”

“They could be awake,” Doyoung says urgently, beginning to feel stressed about how much damage they’ve collectively caused to the sanctimony of the flat.

“They’re either asleep,” Yuta says firmly. “Or have been listening in and are waiting to see if we begin banging.”

“Ew!” Doyoung prods Yuta in the chest. “First thing tomorrow morning then. I need to say sorry to Taeyong.”

“Mmm.” Yuta agrees sleepily.

Yuta falls asleep first, snoring lightly. Doyoung feels impossibly fond. He drifts off too, lulled by the rhythm of Yuta’s snores.

 

---

 

The two of them amble out of Yuta’ room next morning which is coincidentally a Sunday, feeling very gross and sticky. The horny lizard creature in Doyoung wants to shower with Yuta but he holds his tongue. Instead they brush their teeth together. Doyoung takes a dump while Yuta has a shower. They’re already like an old couple, sharing the bathroom.

“This is us dating, right?” Yuta’s voice echoes out from behind the shower curtain.

“Yes,” Doyoung says. “It’s disgusting, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

There’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Who’s in here?” Johnny asks through the door. “I need to pee, so hurry the fuck up.”

“Do-Yuta.” Their replies get mixed together.

“Well, Doyuta should hurry the fuck up,” Johnny calls and kicks the door lightly in warning. “Wait what?”

Doyoung flushes the toilet and washes his hands. Just as he’s done, Yuta comes out the shower, naked and dripping wet, completely bold and unashamed.

“So how long is this cool-off period going to be?” Doyoung squeaks in a pitch he’s never reached before. He clears his throat. “I’m think I’m only heating up.”

“Maybe till tomorrow at least?” Yuta suggests, unfazed and wraps a towel around his lower half. Well duh. Watching Doyoung taking a dump is far less sexy than seeing him naked in the shower. “You can shower now, babe.”

He unlocks the door to see Johnny, Taeyong and Jungwoo congregated outside, ears pressed to the wall.

“You guys made up?” Jungwoo probes cautiously.

“Obviously,” Taeyong insists. “Why else would they be in there together?”

“Y’all better be dating now,” Johnny threatens. “Or I’ll kill you both." He cracks his knuckles.

“Whoa, everyone chill,” Yuta says in alarm and holds up both hands in surrender. “Me and Doyoung are indeed boyfriend and boyfriend now.”

There’s a collective groan of relief. Taeyong snorts derisively at Doyoung, clad one of Yuta’s big t-shirts and shorts. He couldn’t sleep in jeans, okay?

“And a big fuck you to Kim Doyoung,” he says, arms crossed. For once, Doyoung doesn’t bite back. He deserved that one.

When Doyoung doesn’t retaliate, Taeyong’s bottom lip wobbles.

“You guys are both so stupid!” he cries, stamping his feet. Yuta looks like he wants to hug him but one hand is holding the towel around his waist together so he settles for an awkward shoulder pat.

“Hear, hear,” Johnny says. Taeyong’s eyes are getting increasingly red and shiny.

“I hate you!” he shrieks at Doyoung, tears finally rolling out. “You’re so annoying! Ugh! You better be happy with Yuta forever!”

“Oh definitely,” Yuta says, batting his eyelashes. “I will never let Doie frown again.” To which Doyoung immediately frowns.

“Gays,” drawls Jungwoo loudly and for once, everyone actually laughs.

Sunday is spent in domestic bliss, the atmosphere in the flat adjusted to its sickeningly sweet again. Everyone hangs out after weeks of forced separation and catches Yuta and Doyoung up on everything they’ve missed. It’s very soft and tender.

Honeymoon phase has only just begun and this time Doyoung drags Yuta to his room to sleep and they cuddle up again for the night. He jokes about them moving into a room together and letting another person join to cut the rent. He doesn’t expect Yuta to actually consider it.

“Why not?” Yuta says. “We might as well.”

“What if we need our own space sometimes?” Doyoung says. “I was joking.”

“I honestly don’t mind,” Yuta rolls over and makes himself the big spoon. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Doyoung wants to kiss him so bad, if not for Yuta’s imposed cool-off period still being on. It’s like Yuta is torturing him.

The next day, they go to work. But this time, they’re holding hands. They hold hands on the walk to the train station, only letting go to get through the ticket barrier. They hold hands on the train and are pressed flush together with rush hour, except this time Doyoung is allowed to rest his head on Yuta’s chest.

They walk to Yuta’s building hand in hand. For a moment they just stand there like fools, neither one of them wanting to let go of the other’s hand.

“Goodbye kiss?” Yuta jokes, in a parody of their old flirting, tapping his cheek. Doyoung is going insane.

He steps in this time and instead of the cheek, goes directly for Yuta’s lips. Yuta gasps in surprise but kisses Doyoung back for a second then pulls away. His whole face is flushed. Doyoung ascends to heaven momentarily.

“Doyoung, you-“ he mutters. “You can’t do that in the morning!”

“But I just did?” Doyoung says, not caring he may be ruining his and Yuta’s professional reputations forever. “And I’ll do it again.”

Yuta backs away from him.

“Begone, devil!”  he hisses, “I’m going to lose any self-control I’m holding onto if you do that. I am not making out with you at eight thirty in the business district of Seoul!”

With a theatrical flair, Yuta dashes into his building, sticking his tongue out at Doyoung.

“Wait till we get home!” he calls finally and waves.

Doyoung is understandably unable to focus on anything else for the rest of the day. He muddles through work and keeps messing up, stuttering and repeating himself in meetings. All he can think is Yuta, Yuta, Yuta and counting down the hours, minutes and seconds till he can leave, they can go home and kiss each other silly.

“Are you feeling ill, hyung?” Jeno asks with genuine concern. It’s valid from what he’s seeing, Doyoung’s been fluffing up things even the newest recruits do with ease.

“Me and Yuta got together over the weekend,” he informs Jeno, unable to stop the automatic grin that stretches across his face. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit distracted all day.”

“Wow, I’m so happy for you!” Jeno beams, even giving a small clap. “I’m sure Jaemin would be happy to know too! Is it alright if I tell him?”

“If you want,” Doyoung chuckles. To be honest, he’d really completely forgotten about Jaemin’s existence, with the last few days and all. “Tell him I say hi.”

The normal Doyoung works fastidiously and meticulously and never mooches around or takes sneaky breaks but today he’s a different person. For his lunch break, he goes out to the café and buys a sandwich and Yuta joins him. There’s an electric shock every time they touch and a thread of tension that winds tighter and tighter.

Doyoung wants to eat Yuta whole. He spends an extra fifteen minutes on break, not wanting to leave and then takes two extra breaks in the afternoon. The time seems to drag like a snail pulling a heavy load.

Worse of all, when Doyoung’s finally off the clock, Yuta apologetically calls to say he can only get off three hours later.

“Just go home without me, Doie,” Yuta says over the phone. “I don’t want you to wait too long.”

Of course, Doyoung ignores him and waits in Yuta’s lobby, typing away. He gives up quite quickly and heads on to Netflix. But even Single’s Inferno isn’t giving him the distraction he needs.

The way home is torturously long. The train feels slower than usual and Doyoung wants to snap at people in front of him for walking too slow.

When they get home, Doyoung is buzzing like a live wire. Yuta’s room is nearest to the front door and he pulls Yuta inside, slamming his back to the wall.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Doyoung growls and slams his lips onto Yuta’s. Evidently he’s not the only one as Yuta immediately reciprocates, kissing Doyoung back just as intensely. Heat rises up Doyoung’s neck as Yuta grabs Doyoung by the waist, pulling him in even closer. In response, Doyoung fists his hands in Yuta’s hair, tugging hard enough to earn a whine from him.

When they pull apart, both are panting like they’ve ran a marathon. Doyoung can’t get enough. He’s untucked Yuta’s shirt so he can slip his hands under to feel the warmth of Yuta’s skin. Now he just wants more. To touch more, feel more. All of it.

“I want to fuck you,” he begs Yuta, aware of how whiny he sounds. “Or blow you. Or anything.”

Yuta’s pupils are blown out. He slowly unbuttons his shirt, letting it drop behind in him to the ground. His hands lower to his belt.

“Oh, you can do anything you want with me, Doyoung.”

Doyoung takes this as a sign to indulge. He takes his sweet time with Yuta, paying attention to everywhere he’s dreamed about. He sucks bruises into Yuta’s neck, breathes hot air over Yuta’s stiffening nipple and Yuta’s resulting sigh of pleasure is like music to his ears.

“I want you,” Yuta repeats over and over. “I want you, Doyoung.”

He clearly wants Doyoung to speed up but Doyoung keeps his pace, sinking his teeth into the flesh of Yuta’s thighs, swallowing him down while prepping him. He’s never been so hard in his life. It almost hurts.

Yuta just lays there obediently, taking everything Doyoung gives him, knowing full well Doyoung will let him take as much as he wants later.

“Condom for now, but if we’re both clean after the results come back, I want to feel you cum inside me,” Yuta says as Doyoung finally undoes the fly of his own trousers.

Yuta’s been pretty vocal the whole time, totally ignoring their poor flatmates. He’s always been like that though, utterly shameless. Doyoung loves that about him.

“I used to jerk off to you when I could hear you with someone,” he confesses, slicking himself up.

Yuta laughs breathlessly.

“Is it bad I’d sometimes hope you were listening when I had someone over?” Doyoung pushes in slowly and Yuta whines from deep within his throat. “Wanted to put on a show for you.”

“Yeah?” Doyoung can barely muster words at how Yuta feels around him. “You can put on a show right now, baby.”

Yuta puts on the best show of Doyoung’s life. Doyoung’s trying his damnedest to keep going but Yuta milks him dry. They go for another round until both of them have squeezed two orgasms from each other. Doyoung thinks his dick might get sore at this rate.

They’re both worn out, lying on the bed, exhausted and sweaty.

Yuta picks up Doyoung’s phone to check the time.

“Wait,” he scoffs. “You still have this picture as your lock screen?”

“Shut up,” Doyoung says, ears heating up. “It makes me happy. And it’s the only selfie of us two that I have.”

“You make me happy,” Yuta sings, planting a kiss on Doyoung’s cheek. “But let’s go take more.” He navigates to the camera and takes a selfie of them, Doyoung resting his head on Yuta’s chest. “Here’s another one.”

“I look awful,” Doyoung groans. His fringe is completely skew-whiff. Yuta snorts dismissively.

“Let’s break up when we manage to take our millionth couple selfie,” Yuta says.

“So we have to stay together till we reach a million?” Oh, his silly boyfriend Yuta. Doyoung loves him so much.

Doyoung loves him so much.

“Was the message not obvious enough?” Yuta rolls his eyes. “Yes, you idiot.”

“I’m the idiot that’s too good for you?” Doyoung reminds him smugly. Yuta makes his displeasure known by pinching Doyoung’s arm hard.

“Don’t use my vulnerable moments against me!”

They go on a walk the next day because Doyoung protests against setting a post-sex selfie as his lock screen. He wants a new lock screen immediately – he thinks he has trauma associated with that selfie now. The doom selfie, as he’s begun calling it.

“It’s just so unseemly,” he says, arms linked with Yuta. Taeyong, Johnny and Jungwoo are trudging behind them, accepting their fate as third wheels while Doyoung and Yuta are honeymooning. “Uncouth.”

“Yes, keep regurgitating the thesaurus, babe,” Yuta drawls. “So sexy of you.” The winter sun makes a rare appearance so they stop by a tree for some photos.

They take some group photos, solo photos and then Doyoung snaps one of him and Yuta, looking very sickening and in love. It’s not perfect, a little shaky but it's perfect. Doyoung sets it as his new lock screen.

That’s selfie no.3. Still 999,997 left to go till they allegedly break-up.

“I love you,” Doyoung mouths at Yuta.

“I can’t lipread!” Yuta replies, looking unimpressed. “Say it out loud.”

“No,” Doyoung says at once, heard pounding. “Never mind.”

Yuta links their hands again with a sigh.

“Love you too, babe.”

 

Notes:

If you liked it, comments of any length are much appreciated! even a keyboard smash haha

i had so much fun writing doyoung as well as the chaos of yuta and all the neos. i hope doyu gets more love as a ship. i adore kunten if you couldn't tell and i very much enjoyed giving everyone a cameo as doyu's hook-ups.

i feel like i ran away with the plot and diverged from the prompt a bit but i rounded things back up towards the end. thanks for reading!