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“I still don’t understand though, why did you let me copy?” Mingyu looks up from his textbook, mind swimming from memorising different carbonyl compounds and enzyme-catalysed reactions. He circles a particularly ugly dot-and-cross diagram with his pencil and crosses it out.

Wonwoo shifts from his position tucked comfortably under Mingyu’s arm and reaches a hand up to pet Mingyu’s head, fingers interlaced with the soft, puffy strands of his hair. He leaves the chemistry book previously in his grasp onto his lap instead, and Mingyu’s eyes flit over to it for a brief moment before resting on Wonwoo again.

The corner of Wonwoo’s lips are lifted in a fond smile that’s solely reserved for Mingyu, and Mingyu feels giddy and it’s kind of like soaring high above the clouds. He's beginning to think that this was all he ever needed, Wonwoo trapped tightly within his embrace and all of his gentle smiles, fleeting touches, and stolen glances. He’s lulled into a false sense of serenity until he hears a slam against the door. (Junhui had flung himself bodily against the door frame with a deranged cry. Mingyu and his terrible attempts at romancing, Junhui really could use having his literature book back.)

“Yo, , if y'all banging in there, I swear—” Junhui is most definitely yelling at the top of his lungs, but his shouts are muffled by the door, and Mingyu thanks the heavens that he remembered to lock it.

“The only thing that's banging right now is you, so go away before I call Minghao over for pest control. Wonwoo and I are trying to study.”

“Just hand over my Romeo and Juliet, you monster! For a science student, you're disgustingly uneducated about human reproduction.” Junhui’s muffled voice does a great job needling at Mingyu’s already thin concentration. “I’m sure Wonwoo would love to give you a demonstration!”

“We’re not even dating, you literature-loving piece of . Go read some All My Sons over at Jisoo’s and get him to teach you about respecting privacy while you're at it.”

“That's my room, and Jisoo majors in sociology, you unknowledgeable er—”

Mingyu's about to shout some offensive remark about how Junhui’s fixation with Shakespeare was not going to get him any further in life as compared to his own lack of knowledge of , but the hand that gently rests against his jaw cuts him off. Mingyu unconsciously seeks the warmth of Wonwoo’s touch and leans closer, cursing when his cheek meets the soft material of Wonwoo’s sweater instead.  

“Stop pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, Wonwoo, it’s adorable but they're getting in the wa—”

“I wanted to see you in class next semester.”

Wonwoo’s voice is so quiet that Mingyu almost misses it. Mingyu turns to find a Wonwoo that looks smaller and shyer than he’s used to, curled in on himself and shoulders hunched over the sides of his face, a faint dusting of pink across his cheeks. Mingyu’s heart skips a beat, thundering against his ribcage, and for a moment he fears that Junhui can hear just how hard it's beating from the other side of the door. Scratch that, even Seungcheol who lives three floors down can probably hear him.

“Wh— What do you mean? Did you think I was gonna fail?"

Wonwoo gives Mingyu a look, one from which Mingyu deduces the question of are you serious from, and he feels like he’s missing something here.

“Why would you want to see me in class? Minghao always tells me that the only interesting part of class is probably me—  is that why? Is it because of that one time I set Chwe’s hair on fire? It was an accident, I swear, he was standing too close to my bunsen burner.”

He hears Wonwoo exhaling in a long sigh, sees how his shoulders visibly sag, and notices how his expression looks rather perplexed. Wonwoo hesitates for a brief moment— maybe he's feeling braver than usual today, or perhaps Mingyu is being bigger of an idiot today— but he pulls Mingyu in and seals their lips together in a kiss.

It's Mingyu’s turn to forget how to breathe.

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“Mingyu, get off me.”

“Tell me what it means.”

“Mingyu—”

“Tell me!”

Minghao takes a swing at him, test tube rack in hand, and Mingyu ducks away with as much grace a lanky, overgrown teenager with uncontrollable limbs can manage. (He does slam his hip against the sharp edge of the bench though, and that sends him reeling over in pain.) Minghao stares incredulously at the bumbling fool groaning in agony before him, and tries to ignore the small voice in his head that's begging him to lock Mingyu in the closet Professor Chwe stores all the bacteria samples in. Minghao squishes that thought and decides to indulge Mingyu, just this once, as he turns back to patting his copper sulfate crystals dry between two sheets of filter paper.

“He kissed you, you have been cuddling him for weeks over winter break during your tutoring sessions, Junhui told me you guys locked him out of his own room— What do you think it means?”

Mingyu wonders if he might've hit his head instead, because Minghao’s vague response leaves his mind blank, futilely trying to figure out something, anything.

“He, uh— gravitates towards me?”

Minghao wonders why he's friends with Mingyu and promptly decides that ignoring him would do his blood pressure and sanity good. Mingyu noticeably deflates at the lack of response, and quietly returns to his experiment, disheartened.

It doesn't take long for him to send a beaker of saturated copper sulfate solution flying across the lab. This time, Mingyu strangely feels like crying as he watches Minghao sigh before expertly picking up the shards of broken glass. It's the first day back in the lab, damn it, why does Mingyu have to break everything he touches? And of course, Wonwoo makes his way over with a blue wash cloth (which looked older than the lab itself) grasped firmly between his fingers. He gives Mingyu a smile that teeters way too close on the wavering line between platonic and affection before bending over to wipe spilled solution off the ground.

The sight of Wonwoo makes Mingyu’s throat feel like it's closing up the same way it did when he got stung by a bee the first time, before he found out he had an allergy to pollen, and Mingyu religiously wishes he could evaporate into thin air. The same way he never failed to evaporate every last drop of solution that stepped foot into his test tube. It drives Professor Chwe crazy.

(“I think I’d still be losing less solution even if you just drank my supply of acid straight from the tap, Mingyu.”)

Wonwoo notices, of course he does, and straightens his posture to look at Mingyu. The slant of his lips and the concern flooding his eyes is too much for Mingyu to take. His heart clenches at Wonwoo’s worried expression, and in his hazy, non-functioning mind, he decides that confidently marching out of the lab would be the best bet at escaping his feelings.

Mingyu does just that, and Wonwoo immediately drops the wash cloth in his hand to trail after him, cursing Mingyu’s longer legs to the high heavens and back. Wonwoo has to chase Mingyu down the corridor, with the taller of the two shooting his mouth off as usual.

“No! Don't look at me!”

“Back off, Wonwoo, I said no!”

“I'll fight you, I swear to God— No means no!”

Wonwoo has to physically grab onto the back of Mingyu’s collar and peel him off the pillar he's so desperately clinging on to, and he also has to dig the soles of his shoes into the ground in order stop Mingyu from fleeing. This isn't the same Mingyu Wonwoo knows, the Mingyu who would jump at every opportunity to be closer to him.

“What's with you, Mingyu? You've been acting weird ever since I—” Wonwoo’s words trail off, and he weakly gestures at his own lips with a wave of his hand.

“That’s the thing— I've been trying to figure out what it means, and Minghao won't tell me! Neither will Junhui! It's driving me crazy.” Mingyu tugs roughly at his own hair and drags his hands down his cheeks, making a sound not unlike a beached whale.

Wonwoo is speechless— how could Mingyu be such a colossal idiot? And why does Wonwoo find Mingyu attractive despite this?

“Mingyu, you ing idiot.”

“That's a not nice thing to say to someone who's so lost and confused.” Mingyu sniffs, and by instinct, reaches out to grab at the sleeves of Wonwoo’s sweater for comfort. (Mingyu vaguely remembers owning one that's suspiciously similar, and the one Wonwoo’s wearing looks just a little too large to be his own.)

Wonwoo lets himself be pulled closer, and fails to hold back his laughter when he's brought to Mingyu’s chest, warm and familiar. Mingyu may be as clueless as a bean, but Wonwoo finds it endearing.

“Seriously, why does everyone speak in riddles? I just want to know—”

“I like you.”

Mingyu gapes openly at Wonwoo, and the subtle scrunch of his nose in response has Mingyu feeling the same heart-stopping excitement he had back in elementary school, during his brief two seconds soaring through the air after rocketing himself off the rickety swing next to the back gate. Mingyu had knocked both his front teeth out, but it was worth it. Right now, Mingyu’s heart is beating with the same frenzied rhythm as it did back then, but there’s something… more? There wasn’t this strange undercurrent of anticipation and longing lacing the pit of his stomach back then.

“Like— like like? Are you saying that just to make me feel better? Not that it doesn't, but I don't want to get my hopes up or anything. Or did you mean to say that you’re like me, as in, similar?”

It’s like a switch flips in Wonwoo’s mind, and Wonwoo realises that Mingyu finally does have a point— the only way to speak to Mingyu would be to speak like Mingyu.

“Yeah, whatever. What I meant was, that I’m—” Wonwoo tries not to cringe too much at himself. “You know about magnets, right Mingyu? That like and unlike poles attract? I'm attracted to you.”

“So I'm your unlike pole? Or am I the like one?”

“Jesus, Mingyu, I— I gravitate towards you, okay? You're my centre of gravity and yes, I let you copy off me and risk my grades because I love you.”

Wonwoo looks so incredibly flustered and small and uncertain, that Mingyu thinks he's finally doing something right when he leans in to kiss him. It's like the cards have fallen into place at last, as Wonwoo’s arms find their way around Mingyu’s neck, and Mingyu can't focus on anything other than the soft pressure of Wonwoo’s lips against his, and the faint taste of honey caramel on his tongue.

They only pull apart when they hear Professor Chwe’s screeching and his approaching footsteps as he rounds the corner brandishing a stirring rod, waving it around menacingly in the air. Wonwoo’s hair is mussed and his lips are kissed a deep red, he’s looking so breathless and so ethereal, and Mingyu makes the split-second decision to grab his hand and make a ing run for it.

Wonwoo’s laughter drowns out the murderous threats Professor Chwe hurls at them (the stirring rod was thrown in their general direction as well), and Mingyu could care less about all the possible punishments they could face. Wonwoo’s holding onto his fingers a little too hard, but Mingyu sees the childlike joy in his gaze and knows that whatever it was, Wonwoo didn’t mind the running away at all.

“So, what happens now?” Wonwoo breathes, voice higher than usual from the exertion and dark hair swept in a disarray across his forehead. Mingyu tugs him down a forgotten stairwell, backing Wonwoo up against the wall as he rests a hand upon his cheek. He can feel the tickle of Wonwoo’s warm breath against his lips.

“We could kiss. I mean, put that attraction to the test.”

Wonwoo laughs, voice a gentle breeze blessing Mingyu’s ears. His fingers catch lightly on Mingyu’s wrist, and his lips settle into the same subtle, knowing smile that had Mingyu falling in love with him in the first place.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

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