WANTED: ROOMMATE

 

“Uh… Junmyeon, don’t you think that’s a little…too…short?” Minseok says, looking at the ad Junmyeon has typed up. Minseok doesn’t know why Junmyeon had asked him to proofread it; there’s nothing to read.

 

“No?” Junmyeon replies, his answer almost a question. “I want a roommate, that’s it.”

 

“Yeah, but don’t you think you should at least write the apartment number?”

 

“Our apartment number is 13. Nobody’s going to reply to my ad if I put that down.”

 

“It’s your apartment now. I don’t think anybody will reply anyways if that’s going to be your ad, not even if your apartment is the magical number 7.”

 

“What more do you want me to write? I need a roommate, I don’t care who it is!”

 

“You don’t care, really?” Minseok raises an eyebrow at Junmyeon. “So you’re perfectly fine with a forty year old ert?”

 

“Of course not! You know what I mean.”

 

Minseok tries hard not to roll his eyes. “I know, but the world doesn’t, so make your ad more specific.”

 

WANTED: ROOMMATE (NON-FORTY YEAR OLD NON-ERT)

 

“How’s this?” Junmyeon asks, and this time Minseok does slap his forehead in exasperation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Junmyeon scrolls through the replies on his ad (made elaborate and very specific by Minseok) and sighs. It’s irritating; he doesn’t want to do this. He wants the apartment to be theirs, his and Minseok’s, but that’s not possible because Minseok is going to China for a year on an exchange program, and he might actually end up staying there for work.

 

Living. In china. Possibly forever. While Junmyeon is in Korea. Possibly forever.

 

Junmyeon still can’t wrap his head around the fact that within a week, he will roommate-less and quite possibly best friend-less.

 

Although Minseok has promised that they would keep in touch because technology doesn’t allow people to forget other people so easily, you know. Which, in Minseok-lingo meant that he’d miss Junmyeon and Junmyeon had better miss him, too.

 

Which, of course, Junmyeon will. After he has moped for at least a couple of weeks.

 

It’s not that he isn’t happy for Minseok, because he is, in fact, he might be the happiest person after Minseok himself. But that does not change the fact that Minseok is leaving and Junmyeon had always dreamt that they would graduate together and the two years of college that they had lived together had done nothing but bolster his dreams.

 

Because that was how close they were, Minseok was the yin to Junmyeon’s yang, the piece of puzzle that fit just right with him, the key to his lock, the Eve to his Adam (there’s no way Junmyeon is going to think of himself as Eve, even after that one drunk dare where he’d dressed himself up as a girl, no matter how pretty he thinks he’d looked), the salt to his pepper, the jam to his bread, the ham to his eggs, the kimchi to his rice…

 

Okay, maybe he’s just really hungry.

 

But really, who would yell at him to tidy up his room now? That was, like, the most important thing Minseok used to do. When he brings this up to Minseok, he replies, “I’ll yell at you through Skype until new guy learns.”

 

Junmyeon sighs and exits the tab. He’ll worry about choosing a roommate after Minseok’s gone. He needs some time to wallow in self-pity and be miserable first.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Junmyeon slams open the door of his closet and tosses out clothes from a drawer. He’s going to be so so late and he can’t find the other pair of his socks. He’s pretty sure that he had stuffed it in a drawer in his closet because Minseok had nagged him to find the other pair, fold them and keep them properly, but Junmyeon had just ended up shoved it somewhere because he hadn’t been able to find the pair. And besides, who folds socks anyways?

 

He rummages through his underwear drawer next, throwing out boxers and briefs and ew, why has he still kept those ugly SpongeBob boxers?

 

Finally, he finds another pair of socks that he’s been hunting for months, and slips them on hastily before shoving his feet into his sneakers, grabbing his bag and bolting out the door.

 

He half-jogs, half-runs until he’s a block away from the café where they’ve decided to meet and then slows down to fix his hair and catch his breath. He has to make a good impression after all.

 

The door opens with a jingle and Junmyeon is surprised to see Jongdae behind the counter.

 

“Hey, hyung,” Jongdae greets him.

 

“Hey. Why are you working today? I thought it was your day off.”

 

“It is, but we haven’t managed to find a decent replacement for Minseok yet, so Jongin and I have been dividing Minseok’s shifts.”

 

“You still don’t have a replacement? It’s been a week already.”

 

“Yeah, but you don’t have a replacement either, do you?” Jongdae teases. “How much of the apartment is still visible under all your clothes? Baekhyun told me how he found you sobbing into a tub of ice-cream while you were on a marathon of ‘That Winter the Wind Blows’.”

 

This is so not true. First of all, Junmyeon has not let his clothes come out of his room, except maybe the band tee he’d worn yesterday that’s probably tossed over the arm of the couch. And the sweatpants. And he had never been sobbing, he’d just been…practising his cry face. Either way, there had been no tears involved whatsoever, although ice-cream and drama marathon were. And possibly soju. And Baekhyun chiding him…? Junmyeon’s not too sure; he might have been a little tipsy.

 

“Baekhyun,” Junmyeon says, “needs to stay in his own apartment and not barge into others’. Anyways, I’m working on the find-a-new-roommate-thing. That’s why I came here, actually. I’m meeting the guy in”-he glances at his watch-“five minutes.”

 

“Great! Do you want anything while you’re waiting?”

 

“Green tea, maybe? Yeah, green tea sounds good.”

 

Jongdae gives him an unimpressed stare and moves to the machines behind to ready his tea.

 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. “Be thankful I didn’t ask for something with a long- name that no one can pronounce! I’m saving your efforts. Besides, green tea is very detoxifying.”

 

Jongdae ignores him and places his green tea before him.

 

“What’s his name, anyways?” he asks while Junmyeon pays.

 

“Some Park. Chanyeol, I think,” Junmyeon replies distractedly.

 

“Are you serious?” Jongdae asks incredulously. “Are you sure it’s him?”

 

“Yeah, Park Chanyeol. He was one of the first people to reply to my ad. Do you know him?”

 

“He was Baekhyun’s roommate at the dorms before Baekhyun moved in with me. The last time I heard, some guy called Sehun was rooming with him. I don’t know what happened after that.”

 

“Have you ever met him?”

 

“Just once, when I’d gone to help Baekhyun pack all of his stuff. He didn’t talk much, though. I think he was a little pissed off about Baekhyun moving out.”

 

“How is he?”

 

“I’m telling you, we didn’t talk much except for introductions. And then he just left. He looks like he’d be a good roommate, though. He seems cool.”

 

“Cool. Right. I’ll choose him as my roommate because he’s cool. Okay.”

 

“He’s tall, like super towers-over-everyone-tall.”

 

Junmyeon frowns. He’s not sure he wants to spend all his time and live with someone who is a constant reminder of his shortcomings. Minseok had been perfect in that aspect. The word ‘height’ was never spoken in their house.

 

“And I think he’s a music major,” Jongdae continues, “and—oh dear god, he did not have grey hair.”

 

Junmyeon spins around to look at what Jongdae is staring at and sees a lanky boy at the door, wearing a dark blue denim jacket over a white tee and black ripped jeans.

 

And his hair. It’s grey. Grey as in the way those idols dye their hair, not grey as in a sixty year-old grandpa’s hair. (Do sixty year-old grandpas even have hair?)

 

It looks like he’s run all the way here, and he ruffles his hair and looks around. Junmyeon feels like a deer caught in headlights as the guy—this Chanyeol—makes his way to the counter. And he doesn’t know how (“Obviously it was the way you were staring at him, hyung,” Jongdae tells him later. “Creepy as .”) but Chanyeol just knows and when he asks him, “Hi! Kim Junmyeon?” in that deep, deep baritone, a voice that, Junmyeon is positive, definitely comes from somewhere below his throat because of how deep it is, all Junmyeon can think and say is “Wow”, because the next thing he knows, his foot slips over nothing on the floor and he’s sits down hard on his with a plop.

 

Chanyeol's face fills his field of vision and Junmyeon almost feels attacked by the abundance of grey in his eyes, because no one can be allowed to look that good with grey hair. He can barely concentrate as Chanyeol says something and he seems to be offering him a hand..?

 

Right, he should probably get off the floor. (And pick his jaw up off if it, as well).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “Grey, Minseok, he has grey hair.”

 

“I got it, Junmyeon, you’ve said that only ten times in the past ten minutes.”

 

“But it is worth mentioning every minute.”

 

“Hence the ‘wow’, I get it,” Minseok teases. “Jongdae told me you sounded very much smitten by the guy and ‘fell’ for him already.”

 

Junmyeon looks sharply at Minseok’s face that fills his laptop screen. They’re Skyping for the first time since Minseok left for China and Junmyeon wishes Minseok was actually here, just so that he could smack him.

 

“Jongdae, and Baekhyun, for that matter, need to learn to keep things to themselves,” he replies. “I am not smitten. I just think that his hair looks very good.”

 

Minseok’s laugh gets eaten by the static in their connection. Thankfully, the video quality is pretty good and his face doesn’t look pixelated.

 

“You know that’ll never happen,” he replies. “Anyway, what does this Chanyeol guy do? Were you able to move on from his hair to ask him anything?”

 

Junmyeon ignores the jab. “He’s a music major. He used to live with Baekhyun, but Baekhyun moved out, so he got another roommate, who wanted his boyfriend to move in. So Chanyeol, being the nice guy, decided to look for an apartment near the college.”

 

“He sounds nice. When is he moving in?”

 

“Today. In about an hour, I think.”

 

And this time, Junmyeon is ready. The last time, he hadn’t thought that he’d end up picking the first person as his roommate and Chanyeol had had to see an extremely messy apartment when he’d asked to see it. There had definitely been more clothes strewn over the couch than Junmyeon remembered tossing in the hall. And he thought he had thrown out the pizza-box from the previous night, but apparently, he hadn’t.

 

Frazzled, Junmyeon had explained how he was usually not like this, that he really wasn’t used to living alone and Chanyeol had only snickered when he’d spotted Junmyeon’s SpongeBob boxers in front of his room. Junmyeon is still baffled as to how they made it out of his room.

 

But today, both the hall and kitchen are spick and span (of course, his own room is not, but Chanyeol doesn’t need to see that).

 

He talks to Minseok until he has to go, but only after Minseok makes him promise that the next time, Junmyeon would introduce Chanyeol to him.

 

(“You won’t like him, Minseok.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“He’s really tall.”

 

Minseok ends their call then.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Junmyeon has mentally prepared himself for the tuft of grey that sits on Chanyeol’s head, but he’s still a little breath-taken every time he sees Chanyeol. No homo, of course. He just really likes that shade of colour.

 

It’s been two weeks already, and Junmyeon is glad to say that they’re both learning to adjust to each other pretty well. Chanyeol is cheerful, as always. Junmyeon had slowly begun to discover that he was, almost always, like that. Like an energetic, enthusiastic, over-sized puppy.

 

Their apartment used to be quiet when it was just him and Minseok, but Chanyeol had a habit of dragging in Junmyeon in almost everything that he did. So Junmyeon often found himself engaged in video-game battles, or singing karaoke songs by female artists, both of which involved a lot of yelling.

 

Junmyeon has also begun to discover that he really doesn’t mind the noise.

 

They’re still a little awkward with each other sometimes, but Junmyeon knows it’ll go away with time. Jongdae's suggestion to resolve that is pushing Chanyeol up against the wall and kissing him, no matter how much Junmyeon denies that he really does not like Chanyeol that way. This comes after that one time that Junmyeon had accidentally walked in on Chanyeol showering, so he really cannot be blamed for the fact that he had blushed. Hard. But they’re both men, so they don’t make a big deal out of it, but Junmyeon can’t help but think of the fact that Chanyeol is…well-endowed. No homo, of course. Just a point to be noted.

 

(That does not, however, suggest that Junmyeon does not like guys because he’s had his fair share of crushes on both genders. And besides, he has no idea of Chanyeol's preferences. Not that he’s been wondering, nope.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting rid of the awkwardness apparently means that Chanyeol only gets more affectionate and hugs him at every possible chance. Irrespective of the fact that there are people around, or not. Junmyeon doesn’t mind though, he’s always been a touchy-feely person, but it does feel weird, the first few times, to have another touchy-feely person in the house, because Minseok had never been that expressive.

 

This, however, only spurs on Baekhyun and Jongdae to more, especially after the time Chanyeol meets him in the library to ask him if he wants anything because he’s going grocery shopping, and not to have dinner because he’s going to cook fried rice.

 

“Should we be knowing something?” Baekhyun asks, glancing at Junmyeon.

 

“No?” Junmyeon replies.

 

“So you’re still not dating him?” Jongdae asks, as Junmyeon splutters.

 

“Why do you think I like him, or I’m dating him? I’m not, okay, I’m not!”

 

“Alright, alright,” Baekhyun says. “It’s just that you guys look like you’re pretty close already. Which is great, but sometimes I feel like he looks at you like you’re something more.”

 

“Really?” Junmyeon finds himself asking.

 

“Or maybe I’m just looking too much into this.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baekhyun should not have said that, because now, every time Chanyeol looks at him, Junmyeon finds himself staring hard into his eyes, trying to find out if he really looks at him differently than how he looks at everyone else.

 

Needless to say, it gets him a few weird looks from Chanyeol.

 

“Hyung, do I have anything on my face?” he asks one day, when they’re having pizza and watching the latest X-Men movie. Junmyeon had been thinking about what Baekhyun had said (again), and had been unable to stop himself from gawking at Chanyeol’s hair (again).

 

“No, it’s nothing,” Junmyeon had muttered back in reply.

 

What was wrong with him?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Nothing’s wrong, Junmyeon,” Minseok says to him over Skype when Junmyeon shares all his worries with him. “There’s nothing wrong in liking someone.”

 

Junmyeon does not answer, and instead, worries his bottom lip between his teeth. At this point, he’s not even sure whether or not he likes Chanyeol. Like, how does one decide that they like a person? How do you know it’s like and not just like? Does he even like Chanyeol to like him? Is it necessary to like someone to like them? Does he have to like the fact that Chanyeol might possibly like him?

 

“Hey,” Minseok says again, interrupting his thoughts.  “Don’t worry so much. I’m sure Baekhyun doesn’t really mean it, you know. Pretty sure Chanyeol looks at you like he looks at everyone else. No homo, right?”

 

Junmyeon isn’t sure he likes that either.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Junmyeon stirs and opens his eyes groggily. He squints at the bright screen of his phone, checking the time. 3:30 AM. Why on earth is he awake so early?

 

The answer comes in the form of a noise; a soft strumming that makes Junmyeon sit up in bed. He slides his feet into his slippers and sleepily makes his way to the hall.

 

The lights are all on, and Chanyeol is sitting on the couch amongst sheaves of paper and a couple of books and with his guitar cradled in his lap. He seems to making notes of some sort with a pencil that he tucks back in behind his elfish ear.

 

Junmyeon stumbles into the small table near the doorway of the hall when he realises that Chanyeol is wearing glasses.

 

Glasses. Like actual thick black framed glasses. Junmyeon hadn’t even known that Chanyeol wore glasses. Or lenses, for that matter.

 

It is impossible for Chanyeol to not realise that Junmyeon is there after his little stumble.

 

“Oh, hyung,” Chanyeol says, picking up a bunch of papers from the couch and placing it on the table in front of him. “Did I wake you?”

 

And now that Junmyeon’s eyes have adjusted to the brightness, he sees what Chanyeol is wearing and oh dear god, he was not ready for this. The white tank top is a little large on him, exposing large patches of skin of his torso, and—here, Junmyeon sends a mental prayer—his well-defined collarbones. The shorts that Chanyeol is wearing ride up because he’s sitting cross-legged on the couch and Junmyeon is really really not ready for this fine picture.

 

Chanyeol is patting the space on the couch beside him and Junmyeon sits down gingerly beside him, forcing himself to tear his eyes off Chanyeol's biceps. And off his thighs, too, where his gaze wanders to next.

 

“What are you doing at this time of night?” Junmyeon croaks, and then clears his throat.

 

“Composing,” Chanyeol replies. “I felt dumb and inspiration-less in my room so I came out here. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

 

“It’s okay, I’m a light sleeper.”

 

“Well, seeing that you’re awake, tell me what you think of this.”

 

And then Chanyeol is plucking at the strings of his guitar and filling the room with chords and to Junmyeon, it feels like his world is full of music and melodies that he has never heard before, and he doesn’t know why. He’s mesmerised, especially when Chanyeol starts humming a melody and his voice goes so well with the guitar that Junmyeon doesn’t understand why this isn’t already a song.

 

Chanyeol keeps playing, and it’s a different song, Junmyeon can tell, although his experience with music only extends to the karaoke songs he sings. He applauds when Chanyeol ends the song, noting how cute he looks when he’s shy.

 

“Wow,” Junmyeon says, looking at the papers strewn around. “Did you compose all these?”

 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol replies, smiling bashfully. “Did you like them? I mostly compose on my laptop, but I felt like taking out my guitar tonight.”

 

“These look amazing. You have to let me listen to all your songs sometime.”

 

Junmyeon picks up a book and flips through it. There are hastily scrawled words and lines inside on almost every page, with little doodles in the margin. “Do you write lyrics, too?”

 

“I try,” Chanyeol replies, scratching the back of his head and smiling shyly.

 

“Sing one for me!”

 

“What? No, no, I don’t really sing. I have this friend in class, Kyungsoo. I mostly make him sing in my demos.”

 

“I still want to hear you sing,” Junmyeon finds himself insisting. Why do you want to torture yourself more, a voice floats in his head, isn’t this enough for one day?, but he shoves that voice away.

 

“You’ve heard me sing! We just had karaoke night the other night!”

 

“That’s different; nobody’s serious while singing karaoke. Come on, sing for me.”

 

Chanyeol sighs and mutters, “Fine. But you have to start, I’ll join in.”

 

He starts strumming and adjusting the strings (Junmyeon really doesn’t know what he’s doing), but he seems satisfied after a few seconds and when he begins strumming, Junmyeon is about to ask him what song he’s playing because he isn’t some music genius who knows what song it is by a few noncommittal strums, but then he actually recognises the song.

 

Chanyeol is playing an acoustic version of Junmyeon’s favourite song ‘Beautiful’ (by Suho—Junmyeon’s male celebrity crush) and despite the fact that Junmyeon has no idea how to alter a song so that it is acoustic, he launches right into it.

 

He’s definitely not a bad singer, he knows that, but there’s something about the way Chanyeol can harmonise with him that makes his voice shine brighter and the song seem better. Junmyeon doesn’t think he’ll be able to listen to the original the same way again.

 

“How did you know that song?” Junmyeon asks, once Chanyeol has strummed the final chord.

 

“I’ve heard you listen to it a lot of times,” Chanyeol replies, smiling. “You sing pretty well, I’m using you for my demos the next time.”

 

And Junmyeon doesn’t have the heart in him to say no, because Chanyeol is smiling brightly and he paid attention to what Junmyeon likes and what he listens to and he just loses himself a little in Chanyeol's eyes that are bright, even at 4:30 AM.

 

Junmyeon doesn’t know a lot about music, but he does know that he’s falling for Chanyeol.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I don’t see how that is a problem,” Minseok says, the next time they Skype. “If you like him, tell him.”

 

“It’s not that simple,” Junmyeon groans, burying his face into a pillow. He’s going red just thinking about Chanyeol, and he’s not about to give Minseok any more reason to .

 

“I don’t see why not. Confess, kiss, make out, happy times, yay!” Minseok says with the most stoic face possible.

 

Junmyeon gasps and uncover his face. “Are you making fun of me right now? I’m in a serious dilemma here.”

 

Minseok sighs. “Of course not. It’s just that, it’s not as problematic as you think it is. You have to stop acting like a love-struck teenage girl.”

 

“But I don’t even know if he likes guys,” Junmyeon says. “What if he doesn’t? What if he doesn’t like guys and I go and tell him I like him? I might as well just put him on a flight to the other end of the world! What if he doesn’t like that I like him? What if he likes someone else?” And now, things that Junmyeon hadn’t considered start appearing in his mind. “Oh god, Minseok, what if he already has someone?”

 

Minseok snorts. “Trust me, if he had someone, you would know by now. No sane man in a relationship will go a month without getting laid.”

 

There’s a silence and Minseok knows Junmyeon well enough to know what he’s going to say next.

 

“Before you say something dumb,” Minseok says. “Like ‘what if he’s not sane?’ let me stop you. It’s not complicated, Junmyeon. Just tell him that you like him. What’s the worst that can happen?”

 

There’s a pause and Minseok seems to be thinking, too. “Wait, no, don’t answer that,” he says. “I just realised that a lot can go wrong.”

 

Junmyeon buries his face in the pillow again to muffle his cry of despair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So,” Baekhyun says, slinging arm around Junmyeon’s shoulders as they make their way to class. “A little birdie from China told me that you want to know if Chanyeol's gay.”

 

Junmyeon claps a hand on Baekhyun’s mouth and glances around furtively.

 

Baekhyun wriggles away and says, ”Relax, hyung. If you want to know the answer to your question, come to the café after classes today.”

 

“Why?” Junmyeon asks, instantly suspicious. “What’re you planning?”

 

“Just come to the café, hyung!”

 

“But I have no questions! No curiosity, whatsoever.”

 

“Come satisfy your non-curiosity, then!” Baekhyun calls out as he bounds away to class.

 

Junmyeon is not curious. Not at all. He’s decided that he will quash all his feelings inside until they’re nothing but a tiny atom and hide it in his heart until the end of time. He doesn’t need to know anything about Chanyeol. Why would he? Who is Chanyeol?

 

(Whom is he kidding? Of course he’ll go).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baekhyun is behind the counter with Jongdae today, doing nothing but lounging around and Junmyeon is surprised to see that even Jongin is working today. Almost immediately, Chanyeol notices him and calls out to him loudly, drawing everybody’s attention. Ducking his head in embarrassment, Junmyeon makes his way to the table where Chanyeol is sitting. He sees Baekhyun mouth go with the flow to him as he sits opposite Chanyeol.

 

“Hey,” he says, already losing himself in the goofy smile that Chanyeol flashes him. He sees Baekhyun fake-gagging from the corner of his eyes and ignores him.

 

Chanyeol needs no preamble and almost immediately launches into a long speech about how his day was before they get interrupted by Jongin. He stands by the table and clears his throat to get Chanyeol's attention.

 

“What would you like?” he asks and Junmyeon can swear Jongin’s voice just dropped an entire octave.

 

The first few buttons of Jongin’s shirt are open, revealing his collarbones and his chest. He’s also wearing what look like the tightest pair of ripped jeans anybody has ever worn, because Junmyeon can see more skin than jeans. He’s pretty sure this is against work etiquette. And then it strikes him that Jongin is trying flirt with Chanyeol and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

 

“Um”, Chanyeol glances at Junmyeon and back at Jongin’s exposed neck before finally settling on his face. “I don’t know…what do you recommend? What’s on the menu? Hyung—”

 

But Jongin interrupts him, “Me-n-u.”

 

Junmyeon actually splutters into the glass of water he’d been sipping and then takes a long sip just so that he doesn’t start laughing. He’s pretty sure he inhales some of it.

 

Chanyeol mostly looks confused, as if he’s waiting for Jongin to burst out laughing so he knows that this is some sort of a joke. But Jongin looks as serious as ever, and he might actually be hot, Junmyeon thinks, if he didn’t know the situation beforehand.

 

“Um,” Chanyeol turns to Junmyeon, an inaudible cry for help evident in his expression. “How about a slice of cake?”

 

“How about a date?” Jongin counters, now smirking at Chanyeol who looks thoroughly uncomfortable and panicked. He stares between Junmyeon and Jongin, eyes widening with every possible second. “You know what? I just remembered I forgot my…err…my…glasses! Yeah, I forgot my glasses in the library, so I’m gonna…go…yeah…”

 

Chanyeol bolts out of his seat and is out the door in the next second, while Jongin and Junmyeon crumple in laughter over the table.

 

“Did—you—see—his—face—when—I—“Jongin gasps out before dissolving in laughter again. “Oh god, it was priceless.”

 

Junmyeon falls silent while Jongin explains what happened to Jongdae and Baekhyun and they break down into peals of laughter again. He’s a little worried now, how is he supposed to explain this to Chanyeol? Why had Chanyeol run off? The aim of their plan had been to find out if Chanyeol would agree to go out with Jongin, but he had neither agreed to nor refused. What was Junmyeon supposed to figure out of that?

 

Baekhyun looks horrified at the Junmyeon’s suggestion that they should tell Chanyeol.

 

“Are you mad?” he says. “We’ve set up the most amazing chance for you! Don’t you see why Chanyeol ran off?”

 

“No?” Junmyeon replies.

 

“Because he didn’t want to say yes in front of you!”

 

“So you think he’s into guys?”

 

“Of course he is! Didn’t you see how he was looking at you when you guys were talking?”

 

“So you think he likes me?”

 

“Hyung, are you blind?” deadpans Jongin. “Do you honestly not see the way he looks at you like the world is ending and you’re the last ship off Earth?”

 

“I should,” Junmyeon says. “I should talk to him, right? Right. Yeah. I’ll go talk to him now.”

 

And before he can lose his determination, he strides out the door and walks to their apartment. His and Chanyeol's.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol is avoiding him. And it’s all Baekhyun’s fault. All because of him and his stupid plan, Chanyeol won’t even look at him in the eye any more.

 

Junmyeon had apologised to Chanyeol that day, as soon as he’d reached home, but Chanyeol's empty smiles that did not reach eyes had completely driven away the wind from Junmyeon’s sails. They rarely saw each other nowadays, and whenever they did, Chanyeol was quick to make an excuse and escape. Junmyeon hated the fact that they were walking on eggshells around each other.

 

He’d taken to ignoring Baekhyun and Jongdae, and avoided the café completely so that he didn’t bump into anybody. He whined and whined to Minseok, who’d told him how dumb Baekhyun’s idea had been, and how dumb he had been to agree to it.

 

“I know, okay,” Junmyeon says. “I know I was dumb, but tell me what to do now.”

 

“I’ve been telling you all this while,” Minseok replies. “Just talk to him without beating around the bush.”

 

This is definitely easier said than done because Chanyeol refuses to stay in the same room as him for more than five minutes.

 

Junmyeon has ed up. And he knows it. And he still doesn’t know if Chanyeol really swings that way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But his non-curiosity gets quenched one day when he’s busy typing a paper for class. He generally sits in his room, but for some reason, today, he’d felt stifled and had settled down on the couch instead.

 

Chanyeol comes out of his room, looking exceptionally serious, and sits down on the couch beside Junmyeon, who is too engrossed in his typing furiously to notice him.

 

“Hyung,” Chanyeol begins, leaning forward a little. “I need to tell you something.”

 

“Hmm?” Junmyeon answers distractedly. He needs just a thousand more words.

 

“We’re living together, so you should know this. I don’t want to deceive you anymore.”

 

Junmyeon’s brain has not yet registered the fact that Chanyeol is willingly sitting in the room as him, without avoiding him.

 

Chanyeol takes a deep breath before continuing,”I’m gay. I like men.”

 

“Yeah, cool.”

 

Junmyeon’s not really paying attention and it’s after around ten seconds that he realises what Chanyeol has said. His eyes go wide with realisation and his brain goes into overdrive and he doesn’t know what else to do except to say,”Oh.”

 

He sits up straighter and looks at Chanyeol, who is avoiding his gaze. Junmyeon bites his lip, what is he supposed to say now? Is this the right time for a confession? Is this it? Is this when he’s supposed to tell Chanyeol that he—“like you?”

 

Chanyeol's head snaps up and he stares at Junmyeon like he has poison ivy growing out of his ears. It takes another ten seconds for Junmyeon to register that he actually said it all aloud.

 

“Yeah, I like you,” he blurts out, the filter in his brain broken beyond repair. “I like you, like, not just like, but like like, you know? And I don’t know whether I should or shouldn’t because it doesn’t feel like I’m doing something bad while I’m liking you. And I’m sorry for what Jongin did, he did it only to help me, but I’m not sorry for liking you. I’m not sorry because when you smile, it’s like the sun is shining on me and if I’m lucky, I can see the dimple in your cheek and I always get a little lost in your eyes because they’re so big and you look through me and when you laugh, it’s like a boom of thunder and your face just crinkles up so unattractively, but I’ll be lying if I say I’m not attracted and I hate the fact that you’re tall, but I love it, because I can actually bury myself in your chest when you hug me and you—mmph!”

 

There’s a pair of soft lips over his and Junmyeon’s eyes stay open in shock. He cannot move, cannot respond, doesn’t know how to move or how to respond because it doesn’t make sense that Chanyeol is kissing him, Chanyeol is kissing him—and just—

 

“Wow,” he says when they separate.

 

Somewhere along the way, one of them has shoved Junmyeon’s laptop on to the table and Junmyeon doesn’t know who, he doesn’t care, because those sinful lips are back on his, and this time, his eyes flutter close and he gives back as good as he gets, one hand gripping the hair at the back of Chanyeol's head to drag him closer, while the other runs over his collarbones, his perfect collarbones and down his chest and to his stomach.

 

Chanyeol gasps as Junmyeon runs his hand over his front, and Junmyeon takes this chance to slip his tongue in and runs it over the back of Chanyeol's teeth. They break apart, breathing heavily, and drag each other into kisses again, and again and god, Junmyeon thinks, they’ve been missing out on so much, and he could probably keep doing this forever.

 

“You know,” Chanyeol says, somewhere between kisses. “I really don’t like you.”

 

And Junmyeon moans because Chanyeol is half on top of him and he can feel Chanyeol's hardness prodding his thigh; he can hardly think, leave alone forming a comprehensible response.

 

“I wanted to be the one to say it to you,” Chanyeol continues. “But you stole all my thunder.”

 

“You can say it again,” Junmyeon mutters. “I’ll always be here to listen to you.”

 

And Chanyeol knows that he has all the time in the world to say it. They have all the time  in the world to do whatever they want.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue:

 

“Minseok, this is Chanyeol. Chanyeol, Minseok.”

 

“…”

 

“Um… it’s nice to meet you. Junmyeon-hyung has told me a lot about you.”

 

“…Damn it, you are tall!”

 

“……”