It was hard — it was ing tough — sometimes, Chanyeol will lose and go home with a sore heart and no money. But when he wins, he’ll go out and buy dinner, sometimes Sehun will tag along, then they might go to a bar and drink themselves silly and somehow make it back to Chanyeol’s hovel where he’ll wake up and see the stack of coursework waiting for him, almost leering at him in disgust.

When Chanyeol was a kid at school, he made sure he did his homework and such, he got decent average grades, but now that he’s older, he understands the world better with its dark and twisted underbelly. He understands what will happen if he doesn’t do his coursework, if he fails the course and/or gets kicked off it. He’ll become another blot on society’s statistics, bumming off the state and sinking further into the gutter. His parents might disown him, or at least refuse to recognise him anymore. His friends and family will forget he ever existed.

His heart physically hurts just looking at the mountain of coursework. But it’s his only redemption, his only chance to win his parents approval. No child of theirs had gone to university and failed. Not yet anyway. And being the second child of two, Chanyeol doesn’t want to be the first.

Sehun was sleeping, dead to the world whilst Chanyeol sits at what could be called a desk although it was extremely messy and sets about to make some sort of start.

University would always offer him a chance, a helping hand. They’ve got special tutors for dumb s like him. They’ve got counsellors and support workers, people to help out with his job, money, life. Chanyeol doesn’t need it, he doesn’t want it. His parents don’t need a child who can’t get through university without some smiley doctor or smiley advisor. His sister did fine without it and so will he.

☄

He hears the sheets rustling and the groan of a stretched body but he doesn’t pay it any attention. He’s actually making some sort of headway with this coursework, albeit just a small chip into the huge mass of it. However, he can’t ignore long arms that wrap across his shoulders or chapped lips that kiss his neck. Chanyeol keeps focused on the work though.

“What are you doing?” Asks the horse, breathy voice at his ear. Chanyeol will not be swayed.

“Coursework.” He grunts, hoping his terse tone will shake the other off. It doesn’t. Sehun clings to him whilst he writes, the calloused skin of his thumb his collarbone, cold breath tickling his neck, it makes Chanyeol twitch with frustration. “Haven’t you got a home to go to?”

“What’s your major?” Sehun asks, ignoring Chanyeol’s question.

“Music.”

“Oh my God, really?” Chanyeol turns to face the blonde and glares at him. “Whoa, sorry!” Sehun leans back at Chanyeol’s expression, as if he’s the one offended, “You just don’t seem the type.”

The red head goes back to work after roughly shoving Sehun off his shoulders. “Go home.” Blondie doesn’t leave his spot from behind Chanyeol. After a minute Chanyeol adds “please” and Sehun sullenly throws on his clothes and stomps towards the door.

“I’ll text you!” Chanyeol shouts after him. The door slams shut in reply.

☄

Going to the campus, after he doesn’t even know how long, is one of the hardest things Chanyeol has ever had to do. He’s anonymous here, walking up to the entrance, just another student entering the house of learning. But he feels as if everyone is watching him. Looking at the bandages on his arms, the plaster on his cheek, the bruising around his eye, and the cuts on his lip. They’re watching, looking, whispering. He wants to throw up and run away from there as fast as he can, but he’s got a folder of completed work under his arm that might just keep his place on the course. He works his way through the corridors and halls, sweating harder and harder under the gazes of others. He’s-just-another-student, he’s-just-another-student. And when he finally gets to his destination, Mrs. Choi’s office, Chanyeol wants to die all over again.

He could deal with the disappointed look from his tutor, but he can’t deal with the surprised look of someone he calls ‘best friend’.

Kris is there, talking over some paper with Mrs. Choi until Chanyeol rumbles up with his overly loud footsteps drawing the attention of both to him. Both are deer in the headlights at the sight of Chanyeol.

“Chanyeol…” Kris breathes in shock and the redhead swallows thickly. How long had it been since they last saw each other? Since they last spoke? His heart was beating in overdrive, his clothes feel too heavy — too hot. Fighting in the ring is easier than seeing his best friend after so long.

“Chanyeol! Long time no see!” Mrs. Choi sings, smiling brightly like it is good to see him. “Kris, we’ll continue this later, okay?” Kris nods and grunts affirmation. His hands slides into his pockets and as soon as he steps forward, he looks away from Chanyeol. He brushes past him like he's not even there.

“Come in come in,” His teacher says, pulling out a chair for him. She pulls her own chair out to the side of her desk so they’re seated at the corner of it, not separated by it. “What can I do for you?” She asks after the door has closed. Chanyeol didn’t realise he had been staring at it until he feels the teacher’s probing gaze on him.

Kris looks well.

“Oh, um, just... I finished this essay. From... a while ago.” He clears his throat finding it dry and sore, handing her the plastic folder, he bites his lips and picks at the hem of his bomber jacket.

“Brilliant,” she grins, tucking chocolate hair behind her ear as she has a quick skim  through it. She places it on her desk once finished and looks Chanyeol in the eye with a very stern expression. He’s very intimidated right now. Mrs. Choi is a fair and kind soul with soft pretty features, seeing her like this is very unnerving. “You know we’re going to have to talk about your absence, Chanyeol.”

His insides fall and churn into a black hole. No, he does not want to talk about his absence. What is he even going to say?

“Is everything alright?” She asks softly, her expression now more soft and understanding. “Is everything okay at home?” It’s a stupid question everyone knows the answer to. Chanyeol nods though. He really needs a right now. She leans back with a quiet sigh, obviously peeved at Chanyeol’s defensive behaviour. “Do you want someone to talk to? We have counsellors—”

Chanyeol glares, “No thanks.”

Her lips press into the thin line. She determined not to lose to him. “Okay. But you know if you are in trouble—” His glare darkens, starling her. “—Or need someone to talk to, we’re always here.” He just huffs at her, shifting his arms to fold across his chest.

“Can I go?” She studies him for a moment with worried and pitiful eyes. Chanyeol feels suffocated. How many teachers and doctors have looked at him like that? How many times have his parents looked at him like that?

“Yes you can go, thank you for your essay; I look forward to reading it.” As he rises from his chair, he can’t help but think about how disappointed she’ll be when she does read it.

Hands in his pockets, searching for his cigarettes and lighter, he marches as quickly as he can out of the building. As soon as he’s out, he puts the drug to his lips with a trembling hand and lights. He takes a long drag on it, breathing in the calm and relief it brings. Exhaling the string of grey into the sky, he looks over to his left and practically has a heart attack. Kris is stood there eyeing him with critically.

“Hey,” he mutters, looking away.

“Hey yourself. It’s been a while, huh?”

Chanyeol nods, on the cigarette some more. He can’t bear Kris’s eyes on him. Trying to look under his skin and learn his secrets. “Yeah, a while. How have you been?”

Kris finally looks away, in favour for looking at the clearing sky. “Good.” There’s a stagnant pause and they both know what’s going to happen next.

“You?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol nods, “I’ve been good.” Kris scoffs next to him.

“Really? Is that why you’ve got bandages and plasters all over you?”

Chanyeol can’t muster the courage it takes to glare at Kris, instead, he bites his lip and flicks the ashes off his . Neither of them say anything for a while. If Kris thinks that Chanyeol is going to open up to him, just like that, after so long, then he’s got another thing coming. Kris will surely judge him and get angry once — if — he finds out what he’s been up to. But the longer he stays silent in Kris’s company, the worse he feels. What happened to make them this way? They were inseparable only a couple of years ago.

“Hey, you should come over soon. I have a new place now.”

Chanyeol’s head shoots up. This is new. Kris has been stuck with his parents for ever.

“Wow, where?” He turns to face him, his cigarette forgotten between his fingers.

“It’s in the nice part of town, you know. It’s not just mine, it’s a house share.” Chanyeol’s curiousness and enthusiasm dies in an instant. In just a few years, Kris has moved out of his parents and into a house share — all without him. Whilst Chanyeol was wallowing away, missing deadlines and saving money for the occasional hit of pot, Kris has been… has been… doing really good. Despite the bitter feeling that has filled his heart, he still feels happy and glad to know that Kris has been okay.

“Your housemates alright then?” He doesn’t really want to know, but he can’t stop himself from asking.

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool people, you should meet them. I think you’d get on pretty well with Jongdae.” Kris is smiling stupidly with his gums and it makes Chanyeol’s heart do weird things. Seeing him smile like this whilst he talks about his friends — his new friends — unsettles Chanyeol.

But he smiles back, “Yeah, okay.” The next thing he knows, Kris is typing out his address into a text and telling him when it’s alright to come over. And when he tries to inhale more tobacco, he finds his cigarette burned down, then Kris is announcing he’s got to go and he’s started to walk away. Chanyeol’s heart tugs after him, but he nods, smiles and waves goodbye. Kris shouts ‘I like your hair by the way’ over his shoulder.

He doesn’t miss the fact that Kris joins someone’s side, someone significantly shorter with midnight hair, and grins brightly at them before he’s left the campus and left his sight altogether.

Chanyeol fumbles for another cigarette.

☄

When he gets back to his hovel of an apartment, he spots Sehun’s stupidly expensive boots in the hyeongwan as he slips off his own shoes.

“Sehun?” He calls, wondering why the boy has come back to his place even though Chanyeol said he would text him. He doesn’t even remember telling him where he keeps the spare key, but after seeing it on Sehun’s set one day, he realises he must’ve.

He potters into his living room to find Sehun in the tiny excuse for a kitchen. He shouldn’t fit there, but he does. Chanyeol’s space has always been his own, it’s odd to see Sehun in it like he belongs there.

“Hi, hyung,” he mumbles as he spreads chocolate onto his toast. Chanyeol doesn’t think he’ll ever understand his sweet-tooth.

“How come you’re back?” The redhead asks as he strides up to the other, taking his place behind the boy. Sehun doesn’t flinch or acknowledge his presence, just merely munches on the cooked bread.

“Nothing better to do,” he says through a mouthful with an apathetic shrug. Chanyeol snorts in reply, not really sure how true that statement is. He doesn’t really know what Sehun does outside of the Exo Pit or his apartment.

Chanyeol rests his chin on the blonde’s shoulder and nuzzles the dark, cropped hair with his nose.

He doesn’t let Sehun finish his toast because he spins him around and mashes their lips together. Sehun is only surprised for a second and responds quickly. Chanyeol may not have a sweet-tooth, but he loves how sweet Sehun tastes.