(an: this story was originally supposed to be a threeshot - step one:getting to know you, step two:falling in love, step three:making you mine - but the secret santa event stated that all entries be oneshots, so ... shortening it was a hastle, as i wasn't quite sure how to do it. and it ended up becoming this choppy mess.

i'm not all too great at writing fluff or stories with happy endings. but i hope you enjoyed nonetheless. i ended up rushing a little because i got busy during the duration of the past month after signing up, but didn't want to give up on the story or the event.

anyways. sorry this was so late. i hope you enjoy this ... this mess of a what's supposed to be fluff.)

It was quite the surprise for the boys of his class when Jung Daehyun - on the first day returning back to school from the vacation, no less - had come out with a proclamation of his soon-to-be-coming marriage. He had always been the weird one out of his grade, the only one of the pubescent bunch that wanted to settle down with just one person and grow old together. His weird, however, didn’t seem to keep the increasing amount of girls from piling in his range of sights, hoping to become the one that the boy continuously spoke about.

(Every day began with a box of sweets sitting at his desk with a handwritten note of admiration.)

(The other boys of his class claimed not to be jealous - because being so would no sooner mean losing to the boy - but it was only too obvious they were green with envy. What did Jung Daehyun have, that they didn’t?)

He never did accept any of the confessions that lined after him though. Daehyun would always just smile and shyly shake his head, “Thank you, but I’m still waiting for my … special someone.” Nobody really got what was going on in the boy’s head - if he had a function brain in there in the first place.

So for once, it wasn’t a surprise to find that their little school’s-most-wanted remained dateless to their third and final year of high school, despite the too many offers that came flying his way. With the way he continuously turned down anyone who asked, most had simply given up, watching on from afar with blushed cheeks and small giggles in queer idolization. (And it was seriously getting old.)

“I’m going to get married.”

When Daehyun blurted out those too familiar words again, everyone proceeded to roll their eyes. They’d heard that one before one too many times to take the comment seriously. “Are you?” He was too much of a romantic; one that simply couldn’t seem to find his quoted, “other half of the puzzle.”

The supposed to-be-groom nodded brightly, leaning halfway onto the window frame with a goofy grin on his lips. The smile looked a little odd on his lips, shy almost. It was an unfitting look on the usually confident boy. If they didn’t know any better, they might have mistaken it for actual love this time around. But that wasn’t possible - was it? It was too likely just too likely that Jung Daehyun was being silly again; like he always was.

“Yep, next month.”

Or at least that’s what they’d all thought, before Daehyun disappeared from their vision, running out of the classroom with a grin ridiculously too wide spreading across his face. He had seen someone down in the fields. It seemed to matter little to him that lunch break had nearly completely been spent and that an English spelling test next period was calling for him.

“Hi.”

He was completely out of breath by the time he’d managed to stumble past the last steps of the building and to his supposed to-be-wed. Lucky for him, whoever it was, hadn’t left just yet.

He; that’s perhaps what surprised Daehyun’s classmates the most as they watched their friend hobble across the grass to the boy laying out, sprawled, in the middle of the otherwise empty soccer field. Who would have known that their dearest Jung Daehyun was gay?

The boy on the grass blinked, peeling his eyes open and squinting against the bright midday sun’s rays. He seemed to take a moment to glance about, not lifting from the artificial grass. He looked about, glancing left and right before resting back on Daehyun’s face, realizing there wasn’t anyone else out on the fields at the time but the two.

Begrudgingly pushing up from the grass, the boy pointed back at himself, a raise twitching his left brow. “Are up talking to me?”

Daehyun nodded back, his smile inching up further in the corners.

“Can I … uh, help you?”

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by one more time?”

His name was Yoo Youngjae of class 3-1 in the mathematics department. He was smarter than the rest of his grade and had entered their school at the top of class, continuing to defend his position to the jealous glares of his classmates. Quite befitting for someone wearing the title of Jung Daehyun’s future bride (or was it a husband, and Daehyun the bride?).

Yoo Youngjae’s hair was dark and floppy and often fell over his eyes. He often forgot to get his bangs up and this resulted into much trouble in the morning, when the teachers stood guard at the front gates for failure to follow the school dress and uniform code. Daehyun thought it was cute.

Youngjae had a single older brother years older and in the last years of his college. He had once used to showed up often in front of school gates to pick up the younger Yoo during their freshman days. Daehyun had seen him during an award ceremony a year back.

He was a slight chubby, packing a little weight against his cheeks, and often lay outside during lunch on the fields, resting on the field under the sun.

Which was exactly when and where Daehyun had found the boy.

Daehyun smiled down at his grumpy boy, his cheeks near hurting from smiling quite so hard. And when Youngjae gave no reply to his cheeky pick-up, he parted to repeat the words again, just in case he hadn’t heard.

“I heard you the first time,” were the words that rang out, (“like bells!”) “I was just hoping I’d heard wrong.”

To most, the harsh words might have knocked them down a step, discouraging. But Daehyun had never been much like the rest; they weren’t near enough to shoo him away. He’d expected only just as much, coming from something of Youngjae’s caliber.

“It’s hot out today.”

Youngjae rolled his eyes, dropping back down onto the grass with a loud huff. He didn’t seem to move, so Daehyun sat down with the spread body, bringing a single knee in close to hug against his chest.

“Do you have a sunburn, or are you always this hot?”

Daehyun watched as Youngjae sputtered, choking on his spit.

It was probably because Youngjae thought he was hot too.

Youngjae had first met Daehyun a several long years back in second grade.

He’d been shorter back then and a little more to the tan side with his front teeth still missing, but slowly growing back. Youngjae remembered him walking into the classroom, his fists tight around the straps of his backpack as he stiffly bowed to the class. He’d just been so awkward.

“Hi, Daehyun, I’m nice to meet you.”

Youngjae had thought he was an idiot.

(A country-speaking idiot.)

He was told to watch out for the new student, who was assigned to sit next to him.

Daehyun turned out to have a big mouth. The shy facade didn’t last for long and it was just the week after his arrival that he was talking Youngjae’s ear off. When Youngjae wanted to sleep during the breaks, Daehyun wouldn’t let him, turning to face him before even the teacher left the classroom with an god-awful wide grin and another story to tell - did he ever run out of stories?

Daehyun had been the talk of the year, half the class fascinated by the queer slur in the boy’s words, and the other half annoyed. Youngjae had been the one in the split, uncaring; he had his own life, his own worries. So when he saw Daehyun bullied by the king of their grade, he turned the other way, pretending not to see. Daehyun could get himself out of his troubles.

And it turned out that perhaps it was for the better that Youngjae didn’t step in.

The bully and the bullied learned to get along perhaps better than the old stories of the case went. Daehyun blabbed his sweet tongue and it wasn’t long until he was a part of the in crowd.

(Youngjae, the next partner, was too quickly forgotten when the next seating assignment tore them apart.)

(And it seemed that he was the only one that could remember the once shy Daehyun who smiled graciously at Youngjae’s help.)

“I believe you owe me a drink?”

Class 3-1 was a whole floor away from Daehyun’s class on the fourth floor. That meant that Daehyun had to run as soon as the fourth period bell rang to catch Youngjae before he dropped asleep on his desk.

He was (only slightly, he defended) out of breath by the time he reached the room, a sly grin drawing whiskers form his cheeks. Taking long strides across the room, he sat himself on top of Youngjae’s desk, nudging away Youngjae’s arm to keep him from falling asleep.

“Excuse me?” Youngjae’s face scrunched up - and oh, dear, how cute it was when he did that. “Are you talking to me?”

“Of course!”

It was beyond just adorable the way Youngjae looked up at him like that.

“And why the hell would I owe you a drink?”

By now, their bickering had gathered the attention of the class, all questioning eyes falling now on the two. What in the world was Jung Daehyun doing in their class, never mind talking to Youngjae? Did they know each other?

Youngjae’s face flushed a (cute) pink shade.

“Get the hell off my desk, you idiot.”

(But he’d mumbled those words, weakly stabbing at Daehyun’s side. He totally didn’t mean it - or so Daehyun swore. He was just playing a game of push and pull. Right now, Youngjae was pushing.)

“Because,” he dragged out the word, tasting it on his tongue just for the effect, “when I looked at you, I dropped mine.”

The stares only got worse.

“Excuse me?”

“I dropped mine, when I looked at you.” Daehyun grinned. “You know, cause you’re so beautiful and stuff.”

Youngjae coughed, leaning over to the side holding onto his chest like if it were in pain. Daehyun helped him, clicking his tongue and lightly patting him on the back. He stayed bent over like so until the next bell rang, announcing the beginning of next class.

Daehyun sighed, shaking his head and pushed off the desk albeit with a slight hesitance. It was a pity that between-class breaks only lasted the shorter ten minutes.

“You don’t even have a drink!”

He turned back around, just at the door, flashing the flushed boy a wide smile. “You’re so cute.”

(Youngjae started coughing again. Daehyun made a note to buy some cough drops for him tomorrow.)

(He didn’t run nearly as fast back to his own class as he did on the way to Youngjae’s.)

(He ended up being late and had to stand at the back of the class with his arms up during the first quarter of the lesson.)

Every day during lunch period that week, Daehyun was present at the field, little packets of bread loaded into both of his pockets to share with his (single-sided) date. Youngjae never openly accepted it, but couldn’t bring himself to protest too much when Daehyun brought the snack to his lips, urging him just a small bite with that kitten-like grin of his.

If nothing else, Youngjae had to give him that: he was persistent.

By the end of the week, Youngjae had grown accustomed to the constant bother that was Jung Daehyun, once even letting the idiot drag him into the cafeteria to eat instead skipping out.

(He’d even given Youngjae a portion of his meat side dishes with a goofy smile that had Daehyun’s friends gag.)

Maybe, if he was willing to admit, it wasn’t quite so bad having Daehyun glue himself to his side quite so much. It got annoying, suffocating, at times, but surely it wasn’t as bad as Youngjae made it out to be quite all the time.

“So, can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead” He was nice company to have; something to fill the time.

“How was heaven when you left it?”

But not always.

The fourth day of his one-sided push and pull, Daehyun had decided to follow Youngjae home - which, might have been a slight more creepier, had Daehyun not been the idiot Youngjae knew from school who couldn’t hurt a fly if he tried to -, standing just a little way behind him, as Youngjae boarded and exited his bus.

“Alright, I know you don’t normally ride this bus.” Youngjae was skeptical, if nothing else. Why would Daehyun be quite so interested in him, of all people? “What’s the meaning of this.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a demand for answer.

Daehyun had stopped short when Youngjae turned around to question him, the goofy grin still curling the corners of his lips. It had Youngjae scowl; no one ever smiled that much - there was surely something wrong with Jung Daehyun.

“My mom told me to chase my dreams.”

Youngjae sputtered, leaning over the side to pound at his chest. “Wh, what did you say?”

“Mom told me to chase after my dreams.” The way Daehyun said it made it sound so obvious; as if Youngjae was the dumb one for not knowing exactly why. (But that couldn’t be it.)

He’d known just what the boy had said but had somehow hoped he had heard wrong. This didn’t seem to be the case.

When Youngjae didn’t speak, opening and closing his lips to a number of soundless huffs, Daehyun filled in, taking step forward as Youngjae look one backwards. “When I was young, my mom always told me to chase after my dreams.” Another step forward and a matching one back, “You’re a dream, Youngjae.”

By the second week, Youngjae seemed to have grown fond of Daehyun’s presence, his table already cleared by the time Daehyun came huffing into his classroom from the other floor. On the days that his classes let out late and Daehyun showed up with a longer delay, Youngjae would huff loudly, making poor complaints unsuitable to the reason.

“You’re late.”

Daehyun gave a sleek grin as he lazily dropped himself in Youngjae’s desk, feeling the other’s chin rest against his upper thigh as he settled. “Classes changed and we had history last period.”

Youngjae lifted - Daehyun did not whine - off from Daehyun’s lap to twist his brows to a grimace. “Mr Hong?” Daehyun nodded. “God, that man is so sour.”

And Daehyun doesn’t know exactly when or how their conversations had turned out to become so casual - but he’s surely not complaining. It was nice, having Youngjae pay attention to what he was saying and give feedback in return that didn’t consist mostly of a coughing fit that had Daehyun worry for his groom-to-be’s health.

“So, what do you have for me today?”

Daehyun blinked. Was he supposed to have prepared something today?

His expression must have been dumb - because that’s often what Youngjae said, when he burst out laughing as he was now - because the wide pull of cheeks returned, pinching his eyes to slits. “You know, pick up lines.”

He gave a thoughtful look. “Will you hit me again if I said yes?” Because yesterday, Youngjae had got into a fit of laughs and proceeded to mark red all over Daehyun’s back with his palms; Yoo Youngjae was a violent laugher.

“You make it sound as if I abuse you.” Daehyun’s brows rose high in question. “Oh - fine,” cheeks puffed in disagreement, but Youngjae shifted to sit his hands under his lap.

Daehyun hummed, pressing his lips together. He sat like so in suspense for a moment longer, leaning closer into Youngjae’s face with a mischievous grin. He didn’t say anything, however, like Youngjae might have thought he would. Instead, Daehyun shifted over, pressing a slight kiss on Youngjae’s cheek before slipping off, chasing across the classroom before Youngjae could get at him.

“God damnit, Jung Daehyun!”

He grinned.

(Wide and bright, like the cat from the story of Alice, speaking only in riddles and tricks.)

UNKNOWN NUMBER
14:20:25  hey ;)

YOO YOUNGJAE
14:30:27  who is this?

14:31:43  how did u get my number

UNKNOWN NUMBER
14:32:33  a lonely traveler into ur hrt

YOO YOUNGJAE
14:35:24  daehyun?

DAEP
14:36:20  baby <3

YOO YOUNGJAE
14:43:29  who told u my #

14:43:50  ill kill him

DAEP
14:44:20  jaebum

YOO YOUNGJAE
14:45:10  hes dead

14:45:40  wht do u want?

DAEP
14:46:10  wntd to say ilu

14:50:36  youngjae?

14:51:20  are you still there?

14:53:03  youngjae?

14:53:20  baby?

14:53:30  youngjaeeeeee

14:53:40  baby

14:53:50  im sry

14:54:06  tlk to me

14:54:20  ilu youngjae

14:55:48  my love for you is like diarrhea

14:56:10  i just can’t hold it in

YOO YOUNGJAE
14:56:30  ok tht’s jst gross

DAE

14:56:40  < 3

“Is he still following you?”

Youngjae blinked, shifting his bag to the other shoulder with a lazy yawn. “I don’t know, is he? I haven’t noticed.” Having Daehyun on his tail had become something like having his shadow chasing him in the day; it would have rathered been more odd without him.

He grunted as his friend knocked him on the head, dropping his bag hazardously onto Youngjae’s lap. “At least pay attention to him, I almost feel bad for the guy. Doesn’t he live on the other side of the river? Why’s he even on this bus?”

“I didn’t ask him to follow me, alright?”

Jaebum scoffed, rolling his eyes and nudging Youngjae’s toe with his foot. “Yeah, but you didn’t do anything to make him stop either. That makes it at least thirty-four percent your fault as well.”

There was a second of pause before Jaebum started again with another kick at his foot. “Alright, so what’s the deal. I’ve known you since you were five, you don’t usually leave people just hanging like this. You like him too, don’t you?” A scoff and another kick. “Why don’t you just say yes and get it over with?”

“If I say yes, he won’t have a reason to do this anymore. I like this, this is cute.”

Daehyun had given himself two months to have Youngjae more comfortable with the idea of marrying him. The weeks had slid past like water between his fingers, and still yet Youngjae never failed to break off into an outrageous fit of coughs whenever a painted house with dogs and family was mentioned.

(It wasn’t as if he were being all that too ridiculous.)

(For Youngjae, he had even reduced his count for children, shortening from a soccer team to just a handful.)

And now that the two months of time limit were over, it was growing time he ought to give up his chase - it seemed an aimless one anyways, where Youngjae seemed more interested in keeping Daehyun as a friend than anything else.

(Perhaps this was what the girls had felt when he had rejected them.)

(It wasn’t at all a good feeling.)

Today, he determined, would be the last day on Youngjae’s bus ride home.

On the correct stop, Youngjae rose, but Daehyun didn’t, remaining seated where he was, picking at his nails. Jung Daehyun believed in shaping his own future with his hands, but he knew also when too much was simply too much.

As the car drew to a stop, Daehyun’s head lifted, surprisingly catching Youngjae’s. Had he been looking over at him the whole time? He lifted a hand to weakly wave. He would get off at the next stop and ride the bus going the opposite way and return back to school to restart his real journey home.

Youngjae’s lips tightened, brows wrinkling curiously. “What are you doing?”

“I’m … sitting?”

“You know that’s not that I mean.” His cheeks filled slightly with air, the way it always would when he was in thought. “You’re not getting off?”

Daehyun shook his head.

Youngjae looked surprised - jarred even, perhaps.

“Really?”

He confirmed this, again shaking his head a ‘no’.

For a second, Youngjae’s jaws dropped, as if preparing to say something, but again closed as the bus’s sound system cried out in alarm of the coming stop - Youngjae’s. He waited for the silence before clearing his throat, shifting his weight to his left. “I thought you wanted to meet your in-laws?” Daehyun shifted, a question lighting his eyes.

“My mom’s really looking to meet her new son-in-law, are you really going to make her wait?”

Daehyun jumped up.

(The answer was obvious.)