Year 3 (Actually)

They’re two days late to the first semester of their junior year, and it’s on purpose.

“We got lost on the way to the train station,” Luhan tells Sehun, who then tells Jongdae, who knows better. He and Minseok grew up in the same town, after all.

“Like hell they did,” is Jongdae’s response. Sehun shrugs; those two can do what they want, for all he cares. If they want to miss the first few days of classes just because they can, he’s certainly not going to worry about their academic futures.

Minseok holds up three fingers like a conscientious Boy Scout and says, “I swear to God we did!” when Jongdae teases him about it. But he’s smirking and, still, Jongdae knows better.

“Don’t worry, Min,” he assures his childhood friend moments after Luhan bursts out of his and Minseok’s dorm room door, whirls around the kitchen to fill his portable coffee mug, and rushes out to his first class of the day. “I won’t say a word.” This promise Jongdae seals with a wink that has Minseok curling his fingers and cringing dramatically.

Minseok tells Sehun in their shared Visual Media course that afternoon that Sehun’s boyfriend is a total slime ball. Sehun’s expression says that he’s well aware of Jongdae’s disposition, but his words are retaliatory, nevertheless.

“At least I’m not dating a fairy princess,” he counters, sounding extremely grumpy for someone who bragged just that morning about all the sleep he’d gotten the night before.

Minseok smiles and pretends he has no idea what Sehun’s talking about. He says as much, too, but ends up eating his own words come Halloween when Luhan, who’s taking Language and Composition as his 301 Lit requirement, decides his costume absolutely must be ironic.

Luhan spends a weekend watching makeup tutorials on Youtube; he’s surprised to see that his former Classics 101 professor has quite the following for his vids on how to apply impeccable eyeliner. Minseok then leaves the dorm that Halloweekend dressed quite fashionably as Hello Kitty, a fairy princess Luhan on his arm. Sehun decides to be lame and throws a beanie over his badly bleached blonde hair; he calls himself a stoner and Jongdae jokes that Sehun must have been spending far too much time with Professor Zhang, Jongdae’s instructor for Psychoanalytics.

“Oh, we had him as a sub for Professor Park’s class once,” Luhan remembers.

“Dimples?” Minseok clarifies, squinting as he tries to recall the man’s face.

“Dude was high as a kite,” Sehun laughs and later wins third at the party they go to by claiming that his costume is actually Professor Zhang Yixing instead of just an ordinary druggie.

He gloats insufferably at least until the second wave of midterms in early November when his grades again fail to reflect well on his intelligence. He’s alone in all his classes this semester and is forced to rely on an actual tutoring service rather than the goodwill of his friends.

“Some tall guy with scary eyebrows named Kris?” Sehun whines in answer to Minseok’s curiosity about his friend’s new tutor. They all have dinner together, or try to, once every week or so, and today they’ve decided to try out a new Chinese place around the corner from Jongdae’s internship.

The ring of a greeting bell above the restaurant door signals new customers who, coincidentally, are actually Jongdae’s Professor Zhang and Sehun’s tutor Kris. Sehun’s complaints increase in petulance and volume; as the four students finish their food and prepare to leave, Luhan takes the time to stop by the other two men’s table and apologize on behalf of their poorly mannered maknae.

“He didn’t really mean it,” Luhan tells his fellow Chinese citizens, directing most of his apology toward Yixing since he’s not quite sure about Kris’ ethnicity.

“He did,” Minseok mouths, also in Mandarin, to Yixing and Kris over Luhan’s shoulder.

Yixing laughs and tells them it’s no problem. Kris furrows his eyebrows like he’s angry but when the tutor then waves hello to where Sehun and Jongdae are trying to hide on the other side of the room, Luhan and Minseok realize that the taller man is actually just laughing. It’s a fairly terrifying sight and the two juniors make their goodbyes as soon as they can without offending anyone.

“You think they’re dating?” Luhan asks Minseok, hand clasped tightly around the other’s as they thread their way through dining customers and back toward their friends.

Minseok shrugs, as does Kris when Yixing asks the same question about Minseok and Luhan.

“It’s possible,” Kris concedes. “But does it really matter?”

Yixing’s not sure that it does matter, not really anyway, but he can vaguely remember Minseok, Luhan, and Sehun from when he once subbed that one class of freshmen for Chanyeol, and he at least thinks their run-in is worth mentioning the next time he sees his friend.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun throw a “Hooray, Finals are Over!” party for all of their couple friends at the university. This event just happens to be when Yixing sees Chanyeol again and the Chinese professor is pleasantly surprised to learn that Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Jongin, and even Kyungsoo, are already fully aware of Minseok and Luhan’s chemistry.

Kris leans over to Kim Junmyeon, the sole academic advisor for the Literature department, and whispers, “Don’t you think it’s kind of weird that they’re so invested in a relationship between their students?”

Frankly, Junmyeon’s seen Minseok and Luhan together and he’s surprised there aren’t more faculty members betting on their dating status. He doesn’t tell Kris this, though, since Junmyeon’s boyfriend, Tao, is nodding quite strongly in agreement to Kris’ question.

“People weren’t this invested before me and Jun got together,” Tao pouts. “Besides,” he adds thoughtfully to Kris, “that tall, lanky kid you tutor? He’s got much better chemistry with the baozi.”

Junmyeon balks at referring to one of their university students as a food item, but it’s the content of Tao’s comment that gets the entire room abuzz.

“He and the deer, though!” Kyungsoo remarks.

“But XiuHan!” Is all Chanyeol can say in response. Baekhyun comforts his boyfriend as best he can but he’s also had a little bit too much wine by that point and he’s kind of ready to start a fight over this if he has too.

They all wake up the next morning feeling rather ridiculous for their juvenile behavior, but that doesn’t keep Junmyeon from starting a conversation thread among the Lit faculty on Google Plus.

The debate over ships and student OTPs lasts a good couple of weeks into the start of the spring semester, at least until the professors involved realize that Minseok is suddenly totally absent from campus. The worst part is that Luhan didn’t really know about Minseok’s absence much earlier than anyone else did.

He only finds out after coming back to campus after break to an empty bed on Minseok’s side of the room. All of Minseok’s stuff is gone, too, and Luhan doesn’t understand when Jongdae tells him Minseok’s in Shanghai, studying abroad.

“You didn’t know?” Jongdae asks, his tone unbearably gentle and his words almost like pity. Luhan hates it.

He claims to hate Minseok for a while too, and refuses to speak to or about the Korean boy until sometime in mid-March when his parents call to say that Minseok’s come to stay with them for his Spring Break.

“He’s very sweet,” Luhan’s mother tells him.

“And so polite and driven,” his dad agrees. “Did you know he’s already got a job lined up for after graduation?”

His mom pipes up again. “You should be more like him, Lu, dear.”

Luhan rolls his eyes as dramatically as he can, simply because he knows they can’t see to discipline him for it. They don’t have to tell him about how great Minseok is or sing the other’s praises because Luhan already knows. Minseok is amazing, no amount of anger or hurt that Luhan’s currently feeling can make him forget this fact.

“You’re much more forgiving than I would be,” Sehun compliments, though anyone who’s even barely listening can tell that he only half means it. Jongdae, at least, is pretty confident that Sehun would forgive him if they were the ones in Minseok and Luhan’s situation.

“He did it for me, apparently.” Luhan doesn’t sound entirely convinced though he does admit that Minseok told him that himself. “Said it was important for my parents to understand that he and I need each other, that we’re better together than we are apart.”

Luhan’s professors can definitely attest to this, as Luhan’s grade point average drops quite unexpectedly over the three months of Minseok’s time in China. It’s nothing that some extra studying and a summer course can’t fix, and it’s certainly nothing too damaging to Luhan’s future, but it’s enough to convince Luhan’s parents that Minseok is actually a more positive influence on their son than he is a negative one.

The year ends with the study abroad students finishing a couple of weeks after those studying at home in Korea. Luhan takes the first flight home after his last final and Minseok meets him at the airport with tears in his eyes and an apology on his lips. Luhan’s parents are there too and they pretend not to see when Luhan throws himself into Minseok’s embrace, sobbing hard into the other’s shoulder.

Minseok has to go back to Korea for a summer internship once his classes end two weeks later but he and Luhan spend that time rememorizing each other’s presence and swearing desperately to never go through such a long separation again. Luhan decides at the very last minute to do his make-up summer course in person instead of online and joins Minseok in saying goodbye to China five days into June.

Year 4

Jongdae tells Sehun that he thinks there’s still some latent negativity as far as Luhan’s feelings toward Minseok. Sehun thinks back to the night before classes started when he barged into Minseok and Luhan’s room to look for his lucky socks and caught the two asleep and snuggling, possibly , on Luhan’s bed.

“I think they’re fine,” he tells Jongdae confidently. It’s the first time in a while that Sehun’s actually sounded sincerely invested in Minseok and Luhan’s relationship so Jongdae believes him immediately, no further questions asked.

Chanyeol, who’s somehow gained tenure while Minseok was off finding himself in China, ends up teaching both Sehun and Luhan in a seminar for seniors who choose to write an honors thesis. To say that the entire faculty population of the Literature department is surprised would be an understatement, but it turns out that Chanyeol spends more time worrying about Luhan’s emotional health than Sehun’s academic success. Unlike Jongdae, Chanyeol doesn’t have an inside source to tell him that Luhan and Minseok are actually doing fine, so when it’s time to submit thesis topics at the beginning of October and Luhan decides he’s going to investigate homoual heartbreak in literature, Chanyeol’s fairly concerned.

Baekhyun, who, strangley enough, Sehun’s requested as his second thesis reader, is sure there’s nothing for Chanyeol to worry about, but Jongin, who Luhan’s requested as second reader—also strangely enough—isn’t as convinced.

“He seems pretty dour during our meetings,” Jongin comments over his cappuccino to the rest of the XiuHan Appreciation club. They meet once a month at the campus café where Chanyeol and Baekhyun first creeped on Minseok and Luhan back when they were freshmen, and the subject for this month’s meeting is the same which plagued Jongdae at the start of the semester.

Chanyeol’s momentarily offended that he, as Luhan’s first reader, actually has less meetings with the student than Jongin seems to. He gets over this quickly when Tao blows into the café, interrupting their meeting to share that “Those students, the two you’re all obsessed with, they’re making out in the quad!”

This news is almost too good to be true; actually it’s the first confirmation of an actual relationship that any of the interested faculty have ever gotten. Chanyeol, as the first professor to be truly invested in Minseok and Luhan, is especially ecstatic. As such he is also equally devastated when he finally makes it to the quad to see the kissing for himself and the two students in question are nowhere to be found.

“It was them,” Tao swears as his bottom lip begins to tremble. “I’m sure of it.” Junmyeon wraps a conciliatory arm around Tao’s shoulders and uses his shorter body to shield the younger from Chanyeol’s glare.

“Children,” Kyungsoo accuses, “All of you.” He doesn’t even know why he comes to these meetings; it’s probably because Jongin’s pouts are impossible to resist.

Luhan feels the same way about Minseok’s, which is partly why he forgave Minseok in the first place. He nibbles away at one right now as he and Minseok remain entwined in the shadows of a building awning and watch as their professors search for them in vain.

Minseok sighs into Luhan’s mouth. “For being incredibly intelligent,” he whispers against Luhan’s mouth, “the profs here are incredibly dumb.”

“Takes one to know one.” Luhan a stripe under Minseok’s ear and giggles when Minseok releases a muffled moan into Luhan’s hair.

Minseok pulls back then and smiles at the man in his arms. “False,” he counters smugly. “Think of Sehun.”

Luhan giggles but smacks Minseok nevertheless. “Rude,” he says. “I’m telling Jongdae.”

He doesn’t tell Jongdae anything, of course, but Luhan has a hard time for a while and can’t manage to look at Sehun without feeling the urge to laugh.

“You seem in better spirits lately,” Chanyeol remarks to Luhan in November after everyone gets back from Fall Break and thesis crunch time begins. He’s held his Chinese student back after their group seminar and Luhan, who’s just watched Sehun absentmindedly bruise his forehead against a doorpost, is having a hard time holding back his smile.

Luhan shrugs. “Life’s good right now,” he tells Professor Park. “It feels like everything is starting to fall into place, you know?”

By everything, Luhan means more than just his grades or interpersonal relationships. He finds out that same afternoon that his application for graduate school was accepted; he’ll be attending their same university in the fall for two years of Applied Literature under the direct tutelage of the newly appointed Assistant Head of the Lit department, one Huang Zitao. Jongdae feels particular invested in this news since he’s decided to take his nearly-completed degree in psychology and work as Junmyeon’s assistant.

The Literature department is growing steadily and it’s really only Sehun and Minseok who aren’t finding their futures there.

Sehun comes back from an alternative break trip over Christmas holidays with a new zeal for learning. He reveals to Jongdae, and eventually to the other two, that he’s going to go back to the village where he served over his break to teach dance and other education classes to underprivileged teens. It’s a noble pursuit and makes complete sense considering the topic of his honors thesis: Grassroot Alternatives to MicroFinancing in Impoverished Countries. Sehun writes about his own service experiences in the Preface of his thesis, and Baekhyun spends an entire evening in tears just reading about it. Chanyeol knows exactly what emotions Baekhyun’s experiencing because he went through all of them himself, and he prides himself on the maturity Sehun’s developed since his first class with Chanyeol as a freshman.

“I’m sure it’s got very little to do with you, Yeollie,” Baekhyun snorts through his sniffles. Chanyeol pouts and tells Baekhyun to go back to reading Sehun’s thesis. Baekhyun grabs the box of tissues of the nightstand on his side of the bed and throws it, hitting Chanyeol square in the shoulder.

Minseok doesn’t write a thesis, but Luhan’s parents weren’t lying when they said he already had a job post-graduation, so it’s not really a big deal. It’s pretty low level, but he’s got an opportunity working as a creative copy writer for a boutique video production firm and there’s definite room for promotion. He’s bashful and embarrassed telling Luhan about it, but the Chinese boy reminds him that the job combines everything Minseok loves; better yet, it keeps Minseok in Seoul instead of heading back home after graduation. That alone is enough to make Luhan happy.

Graduation sneaks up on them all, like it does to every class of seniors who feel suddenly too old for college but not quite old enough yet to truly be adults.

That’s how Minseok, Luhan, and the other two feel, at least, though Sehun is loathe to admit such weakness even in front of his closest friends.

“I’ll be sad to see you go,” Chanyeol tells his senior thesis seminar students on the last day of classes before finals. Luhan thinks that he’s sad to leave undergrad behind and is glad, not for the first time, that he’s chosen to stay. The time will fly, much like the past four years have, but Luhan’s not worried.

He grabs onto Minseok’s hand as they stand side-by-side during the opening remarks of the university-wide commencement ceremony. “Here’s to the past four years together,” he murmurs under his breath.

Minseok smiles and Luhan can see the expression out of the corner of his eye. It’s beautiful.

“Here’s to a lifetime,” Minseok corrects. He sounds smug and his smile is slowly morphing into a smirk-like grin, but Luhan doesn’t care. If their next fifty years are anything like the past ones have been, Luhan’ll take them.

Which pairing to write next?