Day 8: Sunday:

    Zitao gets to the coffee shop earlier than usual, even before Yifan’s shift starts. He orders a latte from the blank-faced barista and sits in his usual spot, eyes constantly flickering to the clock on the far wall.

    Today is a sadness day, and while it’s not nearly as bad as the loneliness, it’s not something Zitao enjoys. He’d rather be near Yifan as soon as possible so that the other's contentment could be the only thing he’d feel.

    At 10:45, Yifan walks in through the door. The other barista gets ready to leave, but Zitao isn’t focused on her exit. He’s overwhelmed with a wave of despair stronger than he’s felt in a while, to the point that his heart physically hurts. The latte in his hand nearly drops to the floor.

    Yifan doesn’t even make his way behind the counter; he sits immediately in his usual spot next to Zitao, abnormally silent. They’re the only two left in the building, and now Zitao is undeniably sure that the source of the sadness is Yifan himself. His attempted solution has now made his situation even worse.

    They don’t make eye contact at first. Yifan silently plays with his fingers, while Zitao is still reeling from the unrelenting current of the other’s misery.

    “Is something wrong?” Zitao finally asks, breaking the silence. He already knows the answer.

    “My grandfather passed away this morning.” Yifan isn’t playing with his fingers anymore. He’s looking down at his feet, hands clasped tightly together. “We weren’t close, but...it’s strange not having him here.”

    What can Zitao say to that? “I’m so sorry,” he blurts reflexively, even if it’s not his fault.

    Yifan shakes his head. “I’ll be fine; don’t worry about me. I’d really just like to help you study so I don’t have to think about it.”

    His words would have almost been believable if Zitao couldn't still feel the truth.

    Today’s subject of Zitao’s frustration is calculus, which puts an even stronger grimace on Yifan’s face than the chemistry notes did. Zitao tries his best, at first, to distract him with practice problem after practice problem, but it’s nearly impossible to do when he himself can hardly solve them through the fog of the other’s sadness.

    Twenty minutes in, and after four tries of trying to solve one integral, Zitao snaps.

    “I can’t do this!” he says angrily, throwing his pen. It ricochets off the table with a harsh crack! and clatters to the floor.

    Yifan jerks away from him, startled, before he insists, “Yes, you can.” He sounds surprisingly calm for how much sorrow is radiating off of him. “You’ve almost got it, and━”

    “No, I don’t! I don’t understand any of it! And now I’m going to fail my finals because I’m an idiot who can’t figure this out!”

    Somewhere in the corner of his brain, Zitao is horrified that he’s yelling at the one person who was nice enough to help him. But right now, he feels stripped raw from overwhelming emotions, like an open wound, and there’s no way out for the pain except this projection of anger. Zitao is desperate, miserable, and he thinks he might burst into tears in the next few seconds.

    He can’t stay here any longer.

    Yifan is still looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, and Zitao’s bottom lip quivers just noticeably as he says, “I’m useless.”

    Yifan’s expression softens. “Zitao, you are not useless.”

    But Zitao can’t even pause to wonder at the sincerity in the other’s words. With one last mutter of “I have to go,” he shoves his things into his bag and leaves.

    He’s not sure which hurts more: the deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy that have resurfaced with a vengeance, or the pang in his heart when Yifan had looked at him like that ━ like he wished Zitao could see himself like Yifan himself did.

    Zitao makes it twenty feet from the entrance before he breaks down.

Day 9: Monday:

    Pacing nervously outside of the coffee shop, Zitao tries to go over his planned apology in his head. I’m sorry, he’ll tell Yifan. I was having a bad day, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Maybe follow it up with a It won’t happen again, and worst case, I understand if you don’t want to help me again. He really hopes it doesn’t come to that.

    Zitao’s hand hovers over the doorknob for a third time, but he still hesitates, letting it drip back down to his side. He knows he should stop acting like a coward and just go in, but what if━

    The door swings open. Yifan’s standing there, arms crossed and foot propping the door open, and the expression on his face is hard to read. “You do realize the entire front of the building is glass, right?” he asks, and Zitao feels like a complete moron.

    “...Right.”

    Yifan’s foot holds the door open a little wider. “Finally coming in?”

    It would be rude to refuse the invitation.

    The inside of the coffee shop is as empty as ever, and Zitao is relieved when the stress that’s been plaguing him all day is replaced by a steady hum of Yifan’s contentment. There’s worry underneath it, but it’s an empathetic sort of worry. Not like the baseless drain that’s gone on since this morning.

    It only takes a minute for Yifan to quietly make Zitao’s requested cappuccino, and then they’re sitting in their usual spots, each waiting for the other to break the silence.

    “I’m sorry,” Zitao says after a few long moments. He almost sounds as ashamed as he feels.

    “It’s fine. You were under a lot of stress, so━”

    “There’s something I should tell you,” Zitao blurts out, and immediately questions his life choices. Yifan was literally handing him his apology on a golden platter. But...the rehearsed lines that he’s been mentally revising all day suddenly seem shallow in the other’s presence. Yifan deserves the truth.

    So Zitao tells him.

    He tells him about waking up every morning with the fear of a deep, dark loneliness holding him captive, a fear that sometimes settles into bitter acceptance. He tells him about the few shining days that almost make his situation worth it, when he can feel everyone’s smallest happiness as his own. He tells him about the incident yesterday when his self-control had shattered.

    And Yifan...listens. He nods slowly when Zitao is finished, processing what he’s been told. “I’ve heard rumours of something similar,” he admits. “Still, this...this is a lot to take in. But I believe you, Zitao.” Then his eyebrows crease together. “I just don’t understand how you’re always in such a good mood if that’s what you’re going through.”

    Zitao takes another sip of his drink, opens his mouth to make an excuse, and what comes out is, “I like coming here because then I can just feel your emotions instead of everyone else’s.”

    Now is one of those times he wishes his self-control wasn’t the first thing that nervousness made him lose.

    The furrow between Yifan’s brows grows more pronounced. “My emotions?” He asks, sounding genuinely confused. “Why would you just be feeling my emotions?”

    “Um.”

    I’m blushing. I have to be blushing. Kill me now.

    “Zitao, I mean it. That doesn’t make any sense after what you just told me.”

    Throw me off the highest cliff and let me sink to the bottom of the ocean where no one will ever find my body.

    “If someone like me finds someone else that they have, um...a connection with, then we can feel all of that person’s emotions instead of whatever it’s supposed to be that day.” Zitao is sure he’s gone beet-red.

    “...A special connection.”

    Yifan runs the words through his head again. Zitao looks anywhere but at Yifan. Yifan looks intently at Zitao. Zitao looks at Yifan looking at him.

    Yifan’s eyes widen to a comical size as the realization sets in. “Oh.”

    The exit is suddenly looking very appealing.

    But the reaction Zitao gets from Yifan is not what he expects. The latter brings up a hand to cover what Zitao sees is a wide grin. “So that’s how it is?” Yifan asks, and Zitao feels butterflies in his stomach that aren’t his own.

    “You’re not mad?” He’s shocked. “But I’m...I’m not a girl, and I didn’t think━”

    “Zitao,” Yifan cuts him off. “I honestly don’t care what you have down there.” He gestures vaguely to Zitao’s crotch, which doesn’t exactly lessen the other’s embarrassment. “I care what’s in here.” A light tap to Zitao’s forehead. “And in here.” A finger pressed to a spot just left of his sternum. “And when it comes to you, I like it all.”

    Zitao thinks his heart is going to burst. “That…” he says earnestly, “was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” And a second later, “Please go out with me.”

    Today, Zitao’s coffee is on the house.

Day 10: Tuesday:

    Zitao goes through his happiness day in a bit of a dze. Some of what the professors are saying gets absorbed by his distracted brain (hopefully most of which is important for the final exams that are still coming up), but otherwise he floats through it on his own personal cloud nine.

    His phone buzzes twice as he walks back to the dorm, bringing a smile to his face when he sees who texted him.

    Yifan.

    He taps back a quick reply to the ‘How’s your day been? :)’ he’s received, and is still mid-conversation with the message’s sender when he flops onto his bed. It’s how Sehun finds him half an hour later: head propped up on an overstuffed panda pillow, bag lying carelessly in the middle of the floor, and giggling as he reads another text on the phone’s glowing screen.

    Sehun snorts at the sight. “What’s got you so blissed out?” he asks. “Finally got the guy?”

    It’s obviously meant as a joke, but Zitao thankfully doesn’t have to be kidding when he responds cheerly, “Yep!”

    “Yeah, very funny, Tao. But seriously...wait, you’re being serious, aren’t you?”

    Another high-pitched giggle is Sehun’s only answer, and he resigns himself to the other side of the room with his laptop, grumbling something about ungrateful roommates.

    It takes a little under five minutes for Sehun to get fed up with the aura of blooming first love (also known as Zitao’s incessant sighs and laughter).

    “Okay, that’s it,” he says, shutting his laptop, and it’s the only warning Zitao gets before the phone is suddenly snatched out of his hands.

    He sits up in an instant, protesting, “Hey, give it back!” but Sehun has none of it; he keeps Zitao at bay with one hand while he types in his own message with the other. Zitao’s struggling amounts to nothing.

    Finally, his roommate lets him grab it back. “I’m going to Jongin’s room,” Sehun says decisively, tucking his computer under his arm. “Don’t have too much fun without me.” And he’s out the door.

    Zitao takes a moment to brace himself before looking at the message the other sent on his behalf. But as it turns out, he didn’t need to worry: rather than humiliating him, the text puts a smile back on his face.

    To: Yifan <3

    This is Zitao’s roommate. I’m happy you 2 are gross and in love, but please get a room. -OSH

Day 11: Wednesday

    Zitao’s pretty sure today is another happiness day, but it’s gotten harder to tell over this past week ━ spending more time with Yifan and being distracted with thoughts of him when he’s alone almost makes every day seem that way.

    It’s their first date outside of the coffee shop. Zitao shouldn’t be nervous because it’s Yifan, but he can’t help being nervous because it’s Yifan. Stupidly handsome Yifan with his mile-long legs and easy smile and cool-guy act that so often fails to disguise what a massive dork he actually is.

    Zitao won’t forgive himself if he messes this up.

    They’ve decided beforehand to do something that each of them enjoys, though the exact nature of the activities remain a secret until it’s their respective turns.

    Yifan goes first (though not without insisting that Zitao go first. Multiple times, and facing increasing levels of puppy-dog eyes). Zitao doesn’t know what to expect when they meet up and walk together to the shopping complex just off-campus. He;s kept in the dark until they stop in front of the laser tag place wedged in between two outlet clothing stores.

    “I’m pretty much an expert at this,” Yifan tells him. “You up for it?”

    First time for everything, I guess. “Sure, why not?”

    Zitao annihilates every single competitor.

    (Yifan, surprisingly, isn’t mad. He looks at Zitao in awe, who thinks Yifan’s going to say something really meaningful until what comes out of his mouth is, “I have such good taste.”)

    (Zitao whacks him hard on the shoulder and fails to hide the red on his face.)

    Zitao’s choice is shopping at the same complex, which is code for “you can hold my bags and tell me I look good in things while I actually shop.” It’s nice when Yifan humours him, and seems to have a pretty good time, because Zitao is already planning to bring him along more often ━ the number of bags Yifan can hold with just one of his hands is both ridiculous and extremely convenient.

    They both walk away from the date with light hearts and a promise to see each other that night at the usual place.

    Zitao doesn’t even need the extra emotions from the other people rushing past him to feel like the happiest person alive.

Day 12: Thursday:

    It’s a lucky thing that Yifan is a good listener, because on anger days like this one, Zitao is certainly a talker. As they lean against the empty café’s counter, Yifan’s presence takes the edge off his earlier fuming, but it doesn’t mean that Zitao feels any less of a need to rant about certain blemishes on the otherwise flawless face of his existence (blemishes also known as his calculus professor and the freshman who’s now  consistently stealing his spot in the library).

    He’s halfway through verbally roasting the next person on his list when he suddenly trails off. Now that he’s taken a moment to look at Yifan’s face, he’s actually not sure if the other has been listening to a single thing he’s said. And if Zitao didn’t know better, he’d say there was pure adoration in Yifan’s expression.

    “Why are you staring?” he asks, feeling scrutinized.

    “Because you’re cute when you’re mad.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

    “Because I’m…?” Zitao finds himself tongue-tied, face flushing at an alarming rate. “You can’t just say things like that out of the blue!”

    (He knows they’re both aware it’s a blatant lie.)

    Yifan’s smile is teasing as he leans into the other’s personal space. “And does that mean I can’t kiss you out of the blue either?”

    Well, at least this isn’t a bad way to go, Zitao consoles himself as he promptly loses the ability to breathe.

    “Zitao? Hey, I was just asking; I didn’t mean to, um...break you. Are you━mmph?”

    The question is cut off by Zitao’s answer, as he leans forward to press his lips gently against Yifan’s own. It’s chaste as kisses go, but Zitao can feel his entire body practically sing, feel his heart beat fast enough that its pulse flutters just beneath his skin. He feels alive.

    They separate with a soft sigh, but don’t make much of an effort to back away from each other. Zitao wonders when Yifan’s hands had reached up to cup his face because here they are now, thumbs gently tracing Zitao’s cheekbones.

    “Does that answer your question?” Zitao asks softly, shy despite himself.

    Yifan only hums, tilting the other’s head up so he can kiss him again. This time, it leaves Zitao breathless.

    (It’s enough to make him not even care about the glass showcasing them to anyone who might walk by.)

    And Zitao...Zitao could really get used to this.

~*~

    It’s not until near 1 am that Zitao’s mood plummets, suddenly hit with realization.

    Yifan notices the change immediately, asking, “What’s wrong?”

    “I told you about the Switch that happens at midnight, right?” At Yifan’s nod, Zitao continues, “There’s only one case where a pattern occurs. If I get two happiness days, there’s always something random after that, and then…” A shiver runs down his spine. “It’s guaranteed to be loneliness. The minute I leave, it’ll hit me.”

    For the hundredth, thousandth time, Zitao curses it all. It’s bad enough that he’s forced to live a life of undesired empathy, but it’s just cruel to force him to go through days like the upcoming one. He’s not sure if it’s better or worse that he can always see them coming.

    “Leave me, you mean,” Yifan says, and it takes Zitao a moment to follow what he’s implying before he nods. “If that’s the case, then just come back with me to my apartment.”

    And really, Zitao tries to be mature about it, but he can’t help the way the tips of his ears flame red. “If you’re okay with it? But normally I cut class on these days, and I wouldn’t want to force you to skip…”

    Yifan winks ━legitimately winks; who actually does that in real life?━ at him. “Fridays are my days off, remember?”

    “Your night shift doesn’t even start until like eleven at night, you ridiculous━”

    “Ssh.” A single finger is pressed to Zitao’s lips. “I sounded cool. Keep it that way.”

    They leave together at around 2, and the walk to Yifan’s apartment is shorter than Zitao expected. It’s on campus, so the building isn’t actually that far from his own dorm. Belatedly, Zitao remembers to send Sehun a text telling him where he’s staying and not to worry (and subsequently ignores the suggestive ‘use protection ;)’ he gets in response).

    Yifan makes Zitao take his bed, though not without protests by the latter. And while maybe there’s a tiny part of Zitao that wishes Yifan would curl up next to him instead, he thinks it’s too soon. In fact, he actually loves that Yifan is being such a gentleman about the whole situation.

    Zitao falls asleep that night with the protection of Yifan’s happiness keeping him warm.

Day 13: Friday:

    The smell of bacon and eggs frying draws Zitao back to the land of the living, pulling him to sit up as though with an invisible string. There’s a few moments where he’s disoriented (Where am I? And whose clothes am I━? Right. Yifan.), but then he drags himself out of bed and into the apartment’s main room. He’s too tired to even care that he probably looks like a hot mess.

    “Hey, you’re awake!” Yifan is at his side in an instant, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. “I can finally introduce you to my roommates.”

    Zitao turns his bleary eyes to the kitchen area, and sees two other young men that look to be around Yifan’s age. The one currently making the feast that convinced Zitao to abandon his beauty sleep turns around with a smile. “Hi, Zitao!” he says brightly. “I’m Yixing. And this is Luhan, but I wouldn’t expect too much out of him this early in the morning.”

    Luhan lifts his head a fraction of an inch from where he’s sitting at the table, looking like a semi-conscious puppy. A tired sound issues from his lips, but that’s all the greeting Zitao gets from him.

    (In all honesty, Luhan looks like Zitao feels. He can’t really blame the guy.)

    Fortunately, the breakfast tastes as good as it smells. It’s perfect: Zitao gets to hear embarrassing stories about Yifan via Yixing, and he’s also too out of it to be embarrassed by Yifan’s excessive PDA.

    Note to self: boyfriend is clingy when sleepy. I’ve successfully acquired a cuddler.

    He gets to spend the rest of the day in the comfort of Yifan’s (and occasionally his roommates’) presence, and by the end of it, the thought crosses his mind for the first time that his condition isn’t so bad after all. How can it be, if it’s the reason he ended up right here?

    If this is what falling in love with Yifan feels like, Zitao wishes he would have gone for that midnight coffee run ages ago.

Day 14: Saturday:

    Precisely half a second after Zitao realizes the next day will mark two weeks since he first met Yifan, he also remembers something that he’s been ignoring this whole time: Yifan is a senior. After finals next week, the school year will be over...and so will Yifan’s time at the university.

    And it’s just Zitao’s luck that both thoughts strike him as he’s in the middle of last-minute studying in the library with Yifan. After the latter had heard Zitao’s complaints about the freshman who’d stolen his favorite spot (surprisingly, he had been listening), he’d made it his mission to scope out an even better one. Now, this secluded area tucked away on the second floor had become not just Zitao’s, but theirs.

    Zitao’s revelations must distract him from the studying more than he thinks, because it’s no time at all before Yifan’s fingers ghost along his arm, catching Zitao’s attention before Yifan asks, “You okay? We can always take a break.”

    Zitao shakes his head, but doesn’t have much success with removing the frown from his face. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…” His fingers twist together nervously. “You’re graduating this year, and I just realized I might never see you again.”

    A hand takes Zitao’s own. “Hey, look at me.”

    He finally meets Yifan’s eyes, and is surprised to see mirth dancing there, rather than the sad resignation he expects.

    “The thing about business majors,” Yifan tells him with a soft smile, “is that we have a lot of options for what to do after college. What if I told you that Luhan and I are founding a startup company about an hour away from campus?”

    “...Oh my god.”

    “Feel a bit better now?”

    “Oh my god.”

    Yifan reaches out to affectionately ruffle Zitao’s hair (and ignores the latter’s squawk of protest). “Now get back to studying. You’d better pass your finals, or all my tutoring will have been for nothing ━ and then I just don’t know if we’ll work out.”

    Zitao punches him in the arm, and once more when all it does is elicit more laughter.

    Someday in the future, Zitao can see himself falling completely and truly in love with Yifan. And when that happens, he knows he’ll be able to feel the other’s emotions no matter how far apart they are. It will be a constant glow in the back of his mind, reminding him of the one who’d both acted as his anchor and brought more emotion into his life than ever before.

    But for now, he has a mission from Yifan that he really needs to succeed in, with the (baseless) threat of a breakup....

    Zitao ends up with an A on every test.

~End~

A/N: And that concludes Sugar Rush, everyone - this was probably the most fun I've ever had writing a fic. (Though that may have something to do with the fact that my plot ideas generally involve an excessive amount of angst...hmm....) Anway, another huge thank you to all the subscribers, and also to all you lovely upvoters and commenters! You guys are awesome^^ Hope you enjoyed the second half of the story, and who knows - there may or may not be some more EXO fic in my future...after I finish this beast of a Super Junior fic I'm working on, of course. Feel free to check my other stories here.  ;)  Once again, thank you!