“Do you have anything before hakwon?” Minhyuk asks, jumping onto Sanha’s desk just seconds after the bell rings. They have a half day today in honour of some old Goryeo king who’s name and contributions Sanha can’t remember, but still appreciates if only for the opportunity to ditch maths.

“Why?” Sanha asks, trying to decide if he should take his textbook home. He decides not to, ultimately, because it looks heavy and he can always just steal Minhyuk’s.

“There’s this new fusion food I read about online.” Minhyuk grins, flinging his own book bag off the ground with his right foot and catching it in his hand. “You know the Snowball cafe next to the park?”

“Yeah?”

“Well they have a student special where you can get ddeokbokk on your bingsoo!” Minhyuk says this like it’s a good thing.

“That’s disgusting.” Sanha replies immediately. “What the are you talking about?”

“You like salty-sweet things.” Minhyuk argues, kicking at Sanha’s shins until they’re both stood up and ready to leave the classroom. “This is spicy-sweet. What’s the difference?”

“Ddeokkbokki has to be eaten hot.” Sanha lectures. “If it gets too cold the sauce congeals and gets all dry and forms a skin and it tastes like human flesh going down. The rice cakes are like little globs of fat.”

“Thank you, as always, for going there.”

“Bingsoo has to be eaten frozen or you’re just eating cold water that someone accidentally spilled red bean soup into. It looks like a turd floating in the toilet after someone forgets to flush.”

“You know what? I’m not even hungry anymore.”

“Eating them together is the worst of both worlds. The bingsoo melts and the ddeok gets cold and then you realised you paid for someone to spill toilet water onto your ddeokbokki and then your stomach gets upset because you’re eating hot and cold together and then the cycle starts all over again.” Sanha finishes with a flourish, laughing and pulling Minhyuk into a headlock when he tries to veer off alone. “But also I’ve got plans. Skipping hakwon today.”

“What for?” Minhyuk asks, facial expression growing serious after a couple beats. “Is your grandfather in the hospital again?”

“Nah, the old man’s still kicking.” Sanha shakes his head. “Some family friends came to visit though. Do you remember Dongmin hyung? He graduated two years ago?”

“Of course I know Dongmin sunbae; I think our painting teacher is still mourning the fact he graduated.” Minhyuk replies. “Wait, are you two friends or something? I’ve never seen you two together. You should at least steal his notes or something; rumor had it he got full points on the CSAT.”

“We weren’t really close or anything, I just saw him around since our parents hung out.” Sanha shrugs. “In all honesty I’m probably closer to his mom than I am to him; she stayed at our house for almost two months when his grandfather died.”

“Why are you guys hanging out now then?” Minhyuk asks, jumping onto the hand rails and running down them instead of taking the stairs like a normal person. What a show off. “Have you seen him since he graduated?”

“Maybe once or twice? For an hour at a dinner or something.” Sanha shrugs. “But there’s some meeting my grandpa called that he family drove up for and they’re being all suspicious about it and . I figure I can try and see if he knows what’s going on over lunch or something.”

“Is that him?” Minhyuk asks, and Sanha doesn’t spot anyone until he looks closer at a group of classmates crowded around a casually dressed figure in front of the gates.

“Goddammit, some things never change.” Sanha laughs, shaking his head. “Yup, probably.”

“How can a human face look like that.” Minhyuk grumbles.

“At least he doesn’t have a car yet.” Sanha notes. “Then he’d really look like an . Lee Dongmin, enemy of mankind.”

“How long have you known him? If you call him hyung.” Minhyuk asks, once they’ve been standing in the same place for a few seconds. Sanha’s hoping the crowd will naturally dissipate if he waits long enough.

“It’s not like we spend time together, but I’ve seen him around since forever.” Sanha answers. “This one time he took me to McDonald’s while our parents were eating at a hwae restaurant though.”

“How old were you?”

“Five maybe?”

“Nothing since then?”

“He probably thought I was too immature for him.” Sanha shrugs. “I remember grabbing like ten soft drink lids because I thought the dispenser was fun to play with. The cashier working noticed and yelled at me for being wasteful and he ended up stacking all ten lids on his drink and sticking a straw through all of them just to shut her up. Then we had to run out of there.”

“It’s amazing how you haven’t changed at all.” Minhyuk chuckles. “You’re going to be known as the 80 year old grandpa who puts on wigs to eat more samples at the grocery store when he’s too lazy to cook.”

“I resent that.” Sanha retorts. “I will definitely have some hot piece of to cook for me by then.” He turns to look at the fanclub, and finds they’ve actually grown in numbers. It’s probably better to move now. “Wanna help me part the red sea? Tag along and blackmail him for his notes?”

“You’re on your own.” Minhyuk declines. “See you tomorrow!”

Sanha approaches the mini fan meeting with apprehension, and when he’s close enough to blend in with the crowd he sees some of the rich s from the football team posing for selcas. What a joke.

“Lee Dongmin?! Is that Lee Dongmin?! Oh my God! Oh my Buddha! Is he even real?!” Sanha shrieks, voice carrying well over the conversational chatter of the students in front of him, and Sanha can’t help but continue when Dongmin glares over their heads. “He’s so handsome! Somebody hold me! He’s so handsome it’s like he was right out Zeus’s !”

“Yoon Sanha, national representative of public indecency.” Dongmin greets with a grin, after waving and biding the others goodbye. “Have you not grown up at all?”

“Oppa! Oh my god! Oppa’s talking to me!” Sanha just continues shrieking, curling his fingers into fists and bumping them together. “His eyelashes! They’re so long! I think I might-”

“Let’s go you brat.” Dongmin sighs, interrupting the younger by abruptly dragging him forward by the tie collar and knocking the air out of his throat for a minute.

“Yeah! Like that! Choke me Oppa!”

“Let’s take a taxi.” Dongmin concludes, moving his hand to try and keep Sanha’s mouth shut with it. “I don’t want to be seen with you in public.”

Despite the annoyance in his tone and his near-bruising grip on Sanha’s shirt, the easy smile never leaves his face.

A taxi comes relatively quickly—existing as Lee Dongmin perk number 72 being the ability to grab people’s attention with ease. Sanha is self conscious enough to shut up once they board the taxi, so it’s a silent ride sans the sad crooners the taxi driver has playing on repeat. There’s a few Buzz and Min Kyunghoon songs Sanha can recognise, but the rest fly right over his head.

Dongmin asks where Sanha wants to eat, but abandons that train of thought when he’s halfway done with verbalising the question and ends up asking the driver to take them to a barbecue restaurant near Sanha’s home.

“Fancy.” Sanha notes, once they’re at the entrance. “I was expecting KFC. Are you sure you didn’t just use me as a cover for your parents? Is some forty year old chaebol wife going to pop out from a window for you to actually take on a date while I sulk on the stairs?”

“I’m not going to justify that with a response.” Dongmin rolls his eyes, holding the door open from outside instead of abandoning Sanha near the sidewalk.

Something might actually be up, all jokes aside.

Sanha doesn’t say anything once they walk into the restaurant, observing Dongmin carefully as the hostess comes to lead them to an empty booth in the restaurant. The first test is when the waitress drops off two cups of barley tea, and Sanha asks for a cup of water too. He looks to Dongmin immediately after uttering the phrase, which would normally earn him a cross-table scolding about how drinking something cold while eating something hot was going to give him constipation and send him to an early grave.

Dongmin doesn’t say anything, flipping through the menu.

The second test is when they ring the waitress back to order, and Sanha requests an order of kimchi jeon on the side. He zaps his head obnoxiously to observe Dongmin’s reaction, expecting a long explanation about why mixing starches was bad for digestion, but instead Dongmin is simply smiling and nodding at their flustered waitress.

“So, how is school going?” Dongmin asks, once the waitress is gone.

Oh to hell with the tests.

“Did you murder my dad in cold blood because you’re jealous of his relationship with me mom and bury his body-”

“Sanha I swear to god.” Dongmin interrupts, nose twitching as he leans forward and uses his left hand to block any disturbed stares from the tables around them. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re obviously acting weird.” Sanha responds, narrowing his eyes and sipping some tea. It burns his tongue, and his fingers too since it’s a metal cup and he didn’t wait long enough, but tries to maintain his expression for the sake of the interrogation.

“You’re a .” Dongmin responds, taking his cloth napkin, dabbing it into Sanha’s glass of water, and grabbing Sanha’s wrist to wrap the napkin around his fingers. “No, for the sake of shutting you up, I didn’t murder your parents, or anyone, in any kind of blood. I just thought it’d be nice to have a simple meal for the first time in a long time and potentially the last time in a long time. While you’re still civil with me. And happy.”

“Happy?” Sanha notes. “Happy?”

“You have the placement exam coming up don’t you?” Dongmin points out, retracting his hands suspiciously quickly.

“Maybe it’s drugs.” Sanha murmurs, noting the tension in Dongmin’s arms.

“No, I am not on drugs, let’s try to have a normal conversation. One subject. You. School.”

“I don’t want to talk about school.” Sanha wrinkles his nose, temporarily dropping his Dongmin investigation in order to whine. “The exam isn’t for another five months. I still have school exams to get through.”

“Your school exams don’t matter in comparison.” Dongmin replies. “But fine, let’s talk about colleges. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Your subject changes are terrible. If I don’t want to talk about colleges what are you going to think up next? Climate change? culture?”

“Just answer the question and you won’t have to find out.” Dongmin sighs. “We’ve been sitting at a restaurant for ten minutes and I already feel like I need a nap. You are exhausting.”

“I’m hoping to get into Sungkyunkwan.” Sanha answers, just to change things up.

“My university?” Dongmin asks, tone suddenly lighter. “What made you choose Sungkyunkwan?”

Sanha pauses for a minute, reaches for his water, remembers that Dongmin’s napkin was in it, sets it down, reaches for his tea, doesn’t make that mistake again, and puts both elbows on the table so he can rest his head on his hands before responding. Sure, they aren’t close or anything, but maybe university has made Dongmin more open minded.

“The music program.” Sanha says, raising his voice so he sounds more brazen and less timid.

“You want to go into music?” Dongmin sputters, sitting straight up again.

This is going downhill, but the dumpster isn’t aflame yet.

“Yup.” Sanha replies, popping the ‘p.’ “Since mdidle school.”

“Are you… have you told your parents yet?” Dongmin asks, still in shock.

“My dad and I argue about it on a bi-daily basis.” Sanha nods, more determined than he feels. “I usually end up running away for a night. I’ve started keeping a spare uniform at my friend’s house so I can still get to school on time.”

“I mean, shouldn’t you take this more seriously?” Dongmin continues. “Even if you like singing, you can always keep it as a hobby while you study something else.”

“There would have to be something else I wanted to do, and there isn’t.” Sanha responds stiffly.

Some things never change.

“That’s because you’re still hung up on music.” Dongmin reasons. “Have you tried, really tried, looking into something else? I know a lot of people tell you there’s no more time when you’re a third year, but it’s not impossible to change tracks even in university. You don’t have to be so close minded about something so important to your future.”

“I know I have more time.” Sanha declares, setting the spoon he was fiddling with down so it clatters dramatically. “I’ve had plenty of time to feel bad about myself, to feel like a ty son, to try and be more normal and give up my soul and make money, to wish I was more attractive so people wouldn’t be so shocked every time I tell them what I want to study.”

“Sanha-”

“After all, ‘What do you think you’re doing? If someone with Lee Dongmin’s face is going to be a lawyer what right do you have to study music?’ I’ve had plenty of time to make this decision and even if I can’t make it on my own two feet I’ve got plenty of time to go back to school at forty and feel like a failure.” Sanha continues, staring resolutely at the clock on the wall instead of Dongmin’s face. “But I know this is what I want to do, and what good is regret going to do me when I’m rotting and six feet under.”

“I see.” Dongmin nods, after a heavy pause. Both of them are staring at opposite ends of the table, Sanha at the pepper shaker and Dongmin at the poster advertising their spring special peach lemonade drink. “I-”

“180 grams of pork belly, sirloin, and short rib.” Their waitress announces, setting the three meats and twelve side dishes down in a flurry of arm movements. She hands Sanha the tongs before nodding at them both and walking back off.

They end up eating in silence, which is momentarily interrupted when Dongmin confirms where they are going to meeting their parents later, but Sanha ends up tuning into the couple next to them arguing about who gets to pick which movie they’re seeing. He feels bad when Dongmin ends up eating the end pieces and burnt bits that Sanha doesn’t turn in time, leaving him the tastier morsels.

I’ll be nice to him later, Sanha reasons, guiltily watching Dongmin pay with a debit card. If they ask him embarrassing questions I’ll bring up dad’s gambling problem.

That doesn’t happen.

“Hey old man!” Sanha greets, bowing despite his language before jumping to join his grandpa in bed.

“Thank you for having me” Dongmin trails after, slipping his shoes off and arranging them neatly against the wall, taking the time to straighten out the shoes Sanha’s had flung off moments before. “It’s amazing that you still have the tidiness of a wild boar.”

“Oink.” Sanha replies, laughing when his grandfather smacks him on the arm. “It’s okay because I’m cute!”

“How are you feeling?” Dongmin asks, sitting at the edge of Sanha’s grandfather’s bed. “Did you get the ginseng my mother sent?”

“Thank you all for worrying.” The old man replies. “Your mother is too generous. Can you call your parents into the room? We’ve been waiting for you two to come home.”

“I got it!” Sanha flies out of the bed, faster even though he’d been laying down while Dongmin was sitting, and Dongmin can hear his socked footsteps stomping throughout the apartment.

“It’s like he hasn’t aged since six.” His grandfather mutters, and Dongmin laughs along.

“Just like his grandfather.”

“Save those lines for your mother kid.” He replies, not displeased. Dongmin notices that Sanha’s stomping is increasing in volume again, so he slides off the bed and onto the ground while waiting for the others to return.

“We’re back!” Sanha announces, kneeling down and sliding to the back corner of the room, where he usually sits during family meetings. Dongmin’s mother makes him stand back up and and move closer to the bed though, shoving him until he and Dongmin are brushing elbows; the rest of their families fills in behind them—two sets of parents and Sanha’s three older brothers.

Sanha’s grandfather sits up in the bed, growling whenever someone gets up to help him, and maneuvers each leg with short, jerky movements until he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, just like Dongmin was moments earlier. He clear his throat four times before speaking. “Thank you all for coming today. Hajun, I trust you’ve been well.”

“Singapore is nice.” Sanha’s older brother replies. “I was a little sad to unpack my coat while traveling back.”

“The reason I wanted to speak to all of you does relate to my heart attack two weeks ago, but I want all of you to stop worrying. It’s not bad news, and the doctor has said my vitals are healthy.” He continues, lifting a finger to point at Dongmin’s mother. “Hyemi, you especially; I’m ordering you to stop worrying.”

“I understand.” She replies, with no conviction whatsoever. Dongmin’s father snorts and gets elbowed in the side in retaliation.

“But the incident did make me think about how I want to leave things once my time does come. I want to meet your grandfather again with no regrets.” He continues, turning to Dongmin now. “I think it’s important to live without regrets.”

“I agree.” Dongmin nods.

“That’s why, after all my thinking, I’ve made a decision. My last wish on Earth, before I meet your grandfather again.” Sanha’s grandfather continues, turning his gaze to Sanha now. “You two are going to get married.”

No one says a word, and not even the rustling of clothes can be heard, just the sound of the indoor heater growing in volume as everything else fades for a couple of seconds.

“Old Lee and I always talked about loyalty, and about unifying our families, and I want him to see our dream come to life with everything in my power. It’s ti-”

“W-wait.” Sanha interrupts, voice cracking.

“Don’t int-” Sanha’s father starts, but Sanha kicks the hand that comes to reprimand him for interrupting.

“Don’t ing tell me to shut up when he’s over there spewing this .” Sanha replies, voice lower than it’s ever been and all the youthful banter gone from his tone. “Is this a joke? Is this a hidden camera?! What the is going on?! Am I the only one surprised?! Is this because I came out last year? Grandpa, you can’t just scare me back into the closet like that, that’s not how being gay works.”

“Sanha, sit down. Let’s discuss this like adults.” His mother sighs, tone firm but expression penitent.

“Adults? What part of this conversation is consenting and rational?!” Sanha is half roaring half squeaking at this point, standing on his feet and pacing in circles between the other bodies. “What kind of sick surprise is this? Did you already know? Were you all scheming about me behind my back these days?! Is this because of Sungkyunkwan?” Sanha asks, stopping in front of his father, and sense of dread building in his stomach but the man looks ashamed instead of angry at Sanha’s episode.

“This is something I considered at great length. I only want the best for you two.” His grandfather continues, but Sanha doesn’t have it in him to explode at an elder on his deathbed so he turns back to his father.

“Is this because I want to study music? Is this because I’m loud?! Is this my punishment for being a bad child?!” Sanha shrieks. “Even so, don’t you think you’re going too far?!”

“Sanha, try to calm down for a minute.” Dongha voices, looking up at his younger brother.

“Hyung, you too?!” Sanha asks, wondering just how many people have gone behind his back. “You hate me too?!”

“Don’t-”

“I’d like to talk to grandfather alone for a few moments.” Dongmin interrupts, standing up.

“Did you know too?!” Sanha asks, running forward to stare at Dongmin’s face, horrified at Dongmin’s resigned half-grin. “You knew and you just sat there while we ate?! You knew and you didn’t say-”

“Go get some air.” Dongmin interrupts again, lips curving down for the first time today. “Everybody, please. I would like to speak to grandfather alone for a few moments.”

Sanha feels a little pathetic once he steps outside and realises how desperate he sounded, furrowing his brows when he looks angry instead. He stalks off to walk around their neighbourhood, ignoring the calls of traitors as he tries to stay hopeful. Hopeful, but still angry. Existing as Lee Dongmin perk number 12 is the ability to convince people to do things they don’t want to do, and Sanha hopes it defies intergenerational rules.

The notion of him, a hip fresh 19 year old, getting married to that crusty 21 year old is so absurd Sanha has trouble processing it, or even picturing what that would look like. It’s so absurd that his mood is somewhat lifted by the time he’s circled the neighbourhood and the front door of his apartment complex is in view again, the grey-blue glass looking less grey and more blue. The whole thing was probably a bad dream, or the indiscriminate rage of a senile old man who eats too many chicken drumsticks and gets indigestion. There’s absolutely no way, in any rational sense of the word, his perky is being wrapped and shipped off like an old Joseon dynasty hanbok top tied tight that has abstained from until some old ert paid enough cows to have it untied.

Dongmin is waiting at outside the building, back facing Sanha, with a vice grip on the stair rails.

“Hyung?” Sanha calls, voice more frightened and vulnerable than he wants it to sound, so he furrows his brows quickly, before Dongmin’s turned around.

“Hey.” Dongmin nods, body turned but feet not moving to walk down the stairs.

“Well?”

“It’s happening.” Dongmin says.

Dongmin says more after that, something about waiting until Sanha’s graduated and wedding plans and his older brothers and a house in Ilsan, but Sanha lets them turn from words into meaningless sounds, inner turmoil drowning them out soon enough. He’s too confused, too taken aback, to be truly angry.

“Hyung.” Sanha interrupts Dongmin’s frantic rambling. “Lee Dongmin-sshi. Your face is truly useless to me now. Please don’t say my name anymore.”

Sanha walks away slowly at first, the ringing in his ears drowning out the sound of traffic, the sound of pavement, the potential sound of Dongmin being offended like he always is. Then he starts to feel tense, feel out of control, feel his skin prickle and he becomes extremely aware of the way the wind tousles the baby hairs cropping up near his sideburns. Everything is prickling, the inside of his shirt is starting to get misty, and Sanha is starting to feel a little excited, a little ambitious, a little ready to run into traffic and hurtle cars instead of waiting for the pedestrian light to turn on.

He ends up in Minhyuk’s neighbourhood, getting into his friend’s building by waving stiffly at a guard who recognises him, and barely restrains himself from kicking at the door furiously before knocking three times.

“Sanha?” Minhyuk asks, opening the door, grin fading at whatever Sanha’s face looks like.

“Minhyuk.” Sanha nods, not moving from outside the door.

“You, uh, wanna come in?” Minhyuk asks, opening the door wider.

“Park Minhyuk.” Sanha repeats.

“Yoon Sanha.”

“Park Minhyuk. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Park Minhyuk.” Sanha finally looks up, wild smile on his face. “Guess what? I’m getting married.”

It’s like an out of body experiences what happens next, but one moment he considers collapsing under the door frame and crying, and the next he’s punching Minhyuk in the right eye.

“We’re sorry for fighting.” Sanha and Minhyuk drone, hands braced against the wall and heads hung low as their principal tears them a new one. The bastard’s been running his mouth for at least half an hour now, talking about third years that need to manage stress better and think about the big picture, and he actually lectures them for so long they forget they’re mad at each other in favour of mutually hating him.

“Six years of friendship.” Minhyuk sighs once they’ve been released. Both of them should technically be heading back to make the last part of Instructor Kwon’s physics lesson, but Sanha would honestly maybe rather get paddled again. At least that keeps him awake.

“Don’t start again.” Sanha groans.

“Six years of friendship all down the drain.” Minhyuk calls dramatically, as they both meander down the empty hallway.

“I don’t know why they’re so pissed. It’s not like we fought at school.” Sanha complains, rolling his shoulder and wincing when his arm screams in response. Minhyuk must have kneed him there when they were on the ground yesterday.

“Alternatively, you could have just not punched me.” Minhyuk responds dryly, hand coming up to feel the tender skin around his black eye.

“Alternatively, you could have not punched back.”

“That was pure self defense. My precious face was about to be ruined.”

“Next time it’ll be your stomach. Somewhere less noticeable.” Sanha compromises, giggling when Minhyuk shoves him into the wall.

They both end up on the roof, staring out at the courtyard to watch for when students flood out for lunch.

“Engaged, huh?” Minhyuk asks, intercepting the hand Sanha shoots out to punch him with. “Stop taking it out on me; it’s not my fault you’re stuck with the damn guy.”

“What am I gonna do, punch my grandpa?” Sanha groans.

“Well if he dies then you won’t have to get married.” Minhyuk reasons, and takes the kick Sanha sends him. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, I was thinking the same thing.” Sanha sighs.

“Are you sure you two aren’t close? Getting set up feels really out of the blue.”

“I didn’t even have his number until he texted me this morning.” Sanha sighs, whipping his phone out of his pocket and throwing it at Minhyuk’s face.

From: ??? ｜XXX-XXX-XXXX
I don’t know if you’re
sleeping on a park bench
somewhere but don’t miss
school.

From: ??? ｜XXX-XXX-XXXX
Also, in case you forgot, they
agreed to put off the wedding until
after you graduate if we go on dates
every friday. You mom said you didn’t
gave cram school then.

From: ??? ｜XXX-XXX-XXXX
I’ll pick you up after class

“You still haven’t saved his number?”

“Why the hell would I do that? It’s not like it could be anyone else, who the else types properly in texts.” Sanha argues. “Also, who sends three texts at once? It’s not like there’s a word limit.”

“Sanha, you text with single words.”

“Shut up.”

“Single syllables, if you’re bored.”

“Minhyuk!” Sanha cries, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. “I don’t want to get married!”

“I know!”

“I’m trying to calm down!”

“I didn’t know!”

“But then I remember and I get angry again.” Sanha sighs. “I didn’t really realise when we woke up this morning, but then your mom told me to drink water before eating and Dongmin hyung always talks about drinking water and-”

“Are you sure you two aren’t close?” Minhyuk interrupts, skeptical.

“Why don’t you just find out for yourself.” Sanha sighs.

“How?”

“What are you doing after class today?” Sanha grins, genuinely excited for the first time that day, wondering how Dongmin will react.

Dongmin, unlike yesterday, doesn’t disappoint.

“He’s coming with us?” Dongmin asks, walking sideways in disbelief as the two high schoolers trail after him. His mouth is still smiling but there’s a lot of eyebrow acrobatics going on.

“Wow, your college degree really is useless. Your basic observational skills are failing you.” Sanha replies, Minhyuk’s supportive snort following.

“Sorry, it’s just been years since I’ve been on a date with someone immature enough to need a chaperone.” Dongmin snides back.

“Third wheeling is a realistic part of the romantic experience.” Minhyuk replies. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sanha’s friend, Park Minhyuk.”

“So you’re the one he stayed with last night.” Dongmin notes, looking Minhyuk up and down.

“ert.” Sanha notes; Dongmin punches him in the arm instead of acknowledging the comment.

“Is he your boyfriend or something? Here to tell me that you two are in love so you can’t marry me?” Dongmin raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Would that work?” Sanha replies, realisation dawning on him. “Wait, who cares about you, do you think that would work on grandpa?”

“Do you think that would work on grandpa?” Dongmin parrots, tone nasal and mocking. “The last time your grandpa changed his mind about something was 1972. Give it up.”

“I’m not his boyfriend.” Minhyuk chimes in. “I’m just here to see if you’re a ual predator.”

“Oh my god you two are the same.” Dongmin groans, when Minhyuk’s voice carries and some aunties shopping shoot the three of them strange looks.

“I mean he’s still underage, even if you’re only two years older.” Minhyuk explains. “I need to properly vet you since Sanha’s family won’t do the job.”

“They’ve been vetting me for 21 years already.” Dongmin sighs, turning back around so he’s not facing them anymore. “I’ll have you know his brothers were very upset when he didn’t come home last night.”

“Where are we going, anyway.” Sanha realises, noticing that he no longer recognises where they’re walking. He usually heads south to go home and east for the subway station, but he hasn’t wandered this far west of his high school.

“There’s cafe called Snow Ball up ahead.” Dongmin replies, pulling out his phone. “Apparently they have a bunch of limited edition savory bingsoo dishes. I’ve been meaning to try them out for a while now.”

Sanha groans while Minhyuk’s face lights up.

“It’s actually you two who are the same.” Sanha sighs, meeting Dongmin’s eye when he turns around at Sanha’s annoyed groan. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The bingsoo is disgusting and Sanha is amazed at how anyone thought the recipes would do well. The cafe is fuller than it usually is mid-afternoon on a weekday though, so maybe the novelty is what’s driving business. It does serve it’s purpose though, because the strange taste takes up nearly half an hour of conversation, until the two bowls Dongmin and Minhyuk ordered are empty.

“Well thank you for the food, but I’ll leave you two alone now.” Minhyuk declares, wiping his mouth on a napkin and standing up despite Sanha’s protests.

“Where are you going?!”

“He seems like an okay guy.” Minhyuk shrugs. “And I have work to do. See you.”

“Have a nice day!” Dongmin bids goodbye, grin on level-ten-cherub-mode, before he turns back to Sanha with a raised eyebrow. “Was that some sort of test?”

“That was a test for Minhyuk and he failed miserably.” Sanha announces, banging his fist on the table and pouting. “I need new friends.”

“Giving you some advice as an upperclassmen-”

“I’ll pass, actuall-”

“Someone in your position may just want to take what you can get.” Dongmin finishes, sitting back in his seat. “Now that we’re alone though, I feel like we should make some ground rules.”

“Can rule number one be not combining bingsoo and ddeokbokki?” Sanha asks, wrinkling his nose when the stench of condensed milk mixed with red pepper paste hits his nose. This may be turning into a traumatic experience, week, life period for him.

“Rules about our marriage.” Dongmin corrects, smelling the same thing and moving both bowls away from them. “Given the… circumstances.”

“My rule still applies.” Sanha argues.

“Fine, fine, now we need number two.” Dongmin shrugs. “For rule number two you have to stop running away from things.”

“I don’t run away from things.” Sanha is affronted. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I will give you that.” Dongmin acquiesces. “I was expecting you to be halfway to Spain by now. You’ve grown up.” Dongmin admits, and then looks down to see Sanha shredding some of their used napkins with his fingers. “Kind of.”

“I still veto that rule. I like sleeping over at Minhyuk’s.” Sanha repeats.

“After we move in together,” Dongmin amends, continuing despite Sanha’s squawk, “you aren’t allowed to run away without contact. It’s too stressful. I’m supposed to be marrying a human, not a trigger happy dog.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re going along with all of this so easily.” Sanha points out, fingers abandoning the napkins to tap on the table as he contemplates. “No matter how much of a people-pleasing-do-gooder-enemy-of-normal-men you are, you can’t possibly want to be married to me.”

“My mom confessed what was happening earlier. I’ve had more time to process.” Dongmin shrugs. “Back to-”

“I don’t buy it; try again.”

“I’m more mature.”

“If you were more mature you would realise that grandpa’s ing losing it.”

“Think about it practically.” Dongmin sighs. “Your grandfather has his last wish. We grand his last wish. Then after… after some time, he’s gone, and then we divorce and it’s like it never happened.” Dongmin explains. “Everyone wins.”

“You can’t possibly have no interest in dating or sleeping around. You’re a university student. The hard days are over. All you’ve got is time.” Sanha argues.

“I never said I had no interest in dating or sleeping around, just that-”

“Okay, rule number two, if we move in together you have to have in outside. Somewhere else. Motels.” Sanha interrupts. Dongmin’s excuses are endless; he’s not going to get anywhere just asking him.

“You want to have in a motel?” Dongmin repeats, head tilting to the side.

“Ew, no, what?! When you have  with other people, . I don’t need to come home to you half on the couch.” Sanha replies, sitting up so he has room to plant both feat on the seat of his chair.

“Do we really need to make that a rule.” Dongmin looks distinctly uncomfortable. “Despite the circumstances, if we date around and someone finds out then we’re screwed. We probably shouldn’t be telling people we’re getting married to wait out your grandpa’s lifespan.”

“You’re right… but I don’t want to be lonely for the next ten years.” Sanha wrinkles his nose. “Let’s come back to your life.”

“I would prefer we not.”

“Moving onto me though,”

“Something I would also prefer we not discuss.”

“I want to go on at least one group blind date.” Sanha argues. “It can even be before we get married. Just one.”

“Why one specifically?” Dongmin asks, more curious than disapproving.

“Because I’m a virile young man.” Sanha retorts. “Who has never been on a date in his first two years of high school because he has no time between his full time duties as a slave to the South Korean education system and angsty musician. And regrets it deeply.”

“One is fine.” Dongmin nods, after some needlessly serious contemplation in Sanha’s opinion. “Rule number four is that you’re not allowed to wear your school uniform when we hang out.”

“What? You’re the one who keeps on meeting me at school.”

“Bring a chance of clothes to school then.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I feel weird looking at you in a uniform.” Dongmin’s says, expression unreadable. “Like…”

“A ert!” Sanha realises, and starts cackling despite the judgment surrounding them.

“I will not,” Dongmin groans, resting his head on the table, “until the day I die, ever get used to taking you out in public.”

“You feel like a ert! A ist!”

“Our next date is going to be in a car. With tinted windows. In an abandoned parking lot.”

“Abduction is not one of my kinks.” Sanha replies, mock-serious. “I’m going to have to give you a red light on that one.”

“I hate you.”

“If you’re into dressing up though, I think the drama club has some nurse uniforms I can borrow.”

“Hate. Hate. Hate.”

Dongmin’s university life doesn’t really cross Sanha’s mind until their second ‘date.’ He would, now that he’s thinking about it, hypothetically picture some sort of F4-esque clan of pretty boys strolling through campus with students throwing themselves at their feet so none of their fancy loafer soles ever touch the dirty, dirty ground. The probably donned fake glasses only during courses to make the professors think he’s more studious than he actually is, and he spends his evenings sitting atop a throne on a ping pong table while drunk college kids alternate between doing shots and worshipping Dongmin’s face.

What Sanha doesn’t expect is to be waiting outside a McDonald’s, having changed out of his uniform into a t-shirt and overalls, and see Dongmin waving at him from the parking lot. Well, he does kind of expect that, but what he actually doesn’t expect is for three people to pop up from behind Dongmin and start sprinting in Sanha’s direction, a salad of different heights and facial features, with no signs of stopping, until they have him surrounded as they chant some strange spell. He feels like he’s in the midst of some sacrificial ritual.

Never mind, they’re just singing happy birthday.

“I don’t know if it’s actually you’re birthday.” One of them blurts out, interrupting the song. He’s not necessarily ‘send half of the student body into a prostrating craze’ handsome, but he’s got the most rectangular head Sanha’s ever seen and a very approachable smile. “But the wedding march wasn’t dramatic enough so this was what we went with last minute.”

“I much prefer happy birthday anyway.” Sanha shrugs in response. “The rift at the end was unnecessary but very well done.”

“Thank you.” Rectangle smiles, smile joined by the other two shorter members.

“You must be Dongmin’s fiance.” The one with a baseball cap exclaims, suddenly latched onto Sanha’s arm. “He got drunk one day and spilled about how he’s apparently engaged, but he’s been hiding the poor fella from us since then.”

“But we’re roommates and I overheard him making plans with you on the phone, sorry for eavesdropping, so we figured we’d just crash the party.” Rectangle explains.

“Third wheeling is an authentic part of the romantic experience.” Baseball cap nods. “Or fifth wheeling, while we’re at it.”

“Are you really old enough to be married?” Number three says, slightly apprehensive. “I mean you’re tall, but I’m probably going to have trouble looking him in the eye after your honey moon.”

Dongmin is approaching them now, having broken into a distressed jog when he was overtaken by his pack of friends, and looks even more distressed than he had when Sanha’s grandfather was damning them both for life a few weeks ago. Sanha briefly members a vow to be nicer to the guy after he had paid for food, and Sanha is nothing if not a bro of his word, so he concocts a diversion plan to put into place once Dongmin reaches them.

“Sorry that you’re dragged into this, but you can’t imagine how nice it is to actually have dirt on Lee Dongmin.” The Rectangle says.

“Not that you’re dirt, but the guy doesn’t get embarrassed easily. You really gotta work for that debilitating humiliation.” Baseball cap adds on.

“Sorry-” Dongmin pants, once he’s reached their circle.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Sanha replies, setting his bag down. “But you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“What?” Rectangle asks.

“Eeh, don’t do that.” Number three replies.

“Not that I wouldn’t marry this loser given all the cash he’s going to make in ten years,” Sanha starts, throwing an