Zitao wasn’t supposed to go to college and fall for one of the first guys that fought for his attention. He wasn’t supposed to crave his presence, his warm body snuggled up against his own at night, nor his addictive smell that made his head spin. And yet, Wu Yifan wiggled his way into his heart, pursed him, and then left him dry and alone.

“Yixing, this is taking ing forever.” He complains, head thrown back with a groan as the pair walks off their small campus to a house to meet up with some of the smaller male’s friends. Zitao was just along for the ride, not interested in smoking, which Yixing took part in quite frequently.

“Minseok said it was only eight minutes away, the stupid .” He grumbles, fingers working at his phone screen. “It’s like, sixteen minutes.” Zitao fought the urge to turn around and just go back to their room, instead opting for another few colorful words as they walked.

“Yixing!” The pair looked up to see Minseok standing at the end of a long driveway, waving his hands in order to catch their attention. Yixing’s face instantly broke out into one of his lazy smirks as they drew near. Zitao could already smell the tang of weed on Minseok, his bloodshot eyes confirming it when he was close enough. “What took so long man?” Yixing rolled his eyes, curling into Minseok’s open arms, hugging the slightly order man.

“It was not eight minutes, you idiot.” Minseok just chuckled, head shaking, already too far gone to really comprehend the insult.

“Anyway, the guys are up this way, at the back of the house.” And thus Minseok lead them up the winding drive (laughing at any and everything), past a house, past another one, and to the side yard of the smaller of the three homes.

Zitao looked at the small crowd gathered, blunts either in hand or pressed to lips, although his eyes settled on one in particular. His hair, long, thick and black, was pushed back by a headband, revealing his forehead and perfect complexion. The other’s gaze fell first on Minseok, brows raising for a moment, then shifted over to Yixing hanging off his arm, and finally Zitao who stood behind the pair. Eyes, a dark depth of brown, found his, smirk filling out on his heart-shaped lips.

Yixing and Minseok went to sit down on the gray stone ledge along with the other males, leaving no room for Zitao, who first frowned before shrugging and finding a spot on the concrete ground in front of them.

“You smoke?” He was asked by a deep, slightly raspy voice, head moving from where he was looking at Yixing to the male with the headband. Shaking his head, he placed his palms face down on the concrete, leaning back. “Ah, that’s too bad. Any reason you don’t?”

“I don’t care for the feeling.”

“Simple enough. I can respect that.” He raises the blunt held between his fingertips to his lips, taking a long drag. “What’s your name?”

“Zitao.”

“Zitao…” He repeats, his voice surprisingly sending shivers down Zitao’s spine. “Nice to meet you. My name is Yifan.”

-//-

“Why are you sitting over there?” Zitao had moved further way, upwind from the males smoking.

“The smoke was getting in my face. I don’t care for it.” Yifan nods his head in what appeared to be understanding. “Strange question, but do you care if I play with your hair?” It was a girly question, he was aware, but his fingers were itching to comb through the dark strands to see if they were as soft as they appeared.

Amusement flickered through Yifan’s eyes, before he’s passing his blunt to a friend to his left, and coming to sit between Zitao’s open legs. “I love it when people play with my hair. Feels wicked good.” Breath seeming to catch at the closeness between them, and the heat of Yifan radiating off and warming his own flesh through his jeans, he awkwardly laughs.

“Yeah, I do too.” He replies lamely, kicking himself in the as he raises his hands, tips of his fingers slowly coming to run through Yifan’s hair. It turns out it is as soft as it looks.

-//-

Yifan ended up leaving earlier than Zitao and Yixing, with promises to come back and continue their conversation. Yet the weed takes hold, and soon Yixing is in Zitao’s face, telling him that he’s hungry and that he needs food, and being the responsible one as usual, walks with his roommate back to their dorm to feed him.

All the while, his brain is spinning, thinking about Yifan and when he can possibly see him again.

It’s the next day, and Zitao and Yixing are walking to the cafeteria for lunch, when a car slowly pulls out in front of them, windows rolled down and Yifan’s head sticking out of the driver’s window. “Hello Zitao.” The male calls out, knowing smirk on his stupidly beautiful face, and Zitao can literally feel his cheeks burn.

His tongue is thick though, and he can’t talk, instead raising his hand in a wave, fingers curling as he does. The car drives off, and Zitao’s left with a heart that won’t slow down, and Yixing’s annoying questions of so, how about Yifan?

It’s not until even later in the week that Zitao catches the familiar head of dark hair at dinner that he finally decides to summon up all his courage and ask the male for his number. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to get his number.” He confirms out loud, eyes following Yifan’s easy gait as he walks across the room.

“Who’s number?” Yixing asks beside him, brows drawn together in confusion.

“Yifan.”

“No you won’t.”

“Shut the up Yixing. I’m going to get it. I’m tired of just thinking about him. I’m going to talk to him.”

And Zitao does. As they’re leaving, trays put away, he tells Yixing he’ll be back in a second, walking back into the cafeteria, and towards Yifan’s table where he’s sitting with the males from the other day. Zitao calls forward all his courage as Yifan looks up from his conversation, eyes meeting Zitao’s when he’s still a good distance away.

What appears to be a genuine, thrilled smile forms, and Zitao’s heart threatens to stop. He makes it there, manages a semi-confident hello, pulls out a chair and sits down next to the other man.

“So,” he says after a while, fingers playing with his phone and twisting it around on the table. “I was wondering if I could get your number…” He looks down as he says this, not courageous enough to look Yifan in his face just yet. It’s silent for a heartbeat, and he does look up, seeing a surprise flicker across the other’s features.
 

“Of course.” He replies, taking Zitao’s unlocked phone, already set up for adding a new contact, and types in his number. After a few more awkward sentences are exchanged, he thanks Yifan and hightails it out of there.

“What happened?” He’s bombarded as soon as he comes within hearing distance of Yixing. A -eating grin spreads on Zitao’s lips, looking down at his phone, then back up at his best friend.

“I got his number.”

-//-

Zitao was running around his shared dorm room, picking up discarded pants, shirts and the occasional pair of boxer briefs, nervous excitement prickling at his skin. After texting Yifan back and forth for a few hours, he had invited the older male over to hang out with him in his room.

“Good luck~” Yixing calls, knowing smirk on his lips as he heads out the door, brows wiggling suggestively. Zitao paused briefly in his cleaning to gift the other with a scowl and a one-finger salute. “Just text me if you know,” laughter pools in the other’s eyes. “you’re going to be getting busy in here and I need to find somewhere else to be for a while.”

“YIXING!”

With that the other ducked out of the room, leaving Zitao alone with a clenched stomach as the butterflies danced. He continued to tidy up until he deemed the room spotless and inviting. After sitting on his bed nervously for a few moments, he decided to preoccupy himself at his desk. Setting up his laptop, he mindlessly surfed the Internet until his phone buzzed against the wood, alerting him of a text.

From Yifan

On my way

Taking a deep breath, his fingers swiped against the touchscreen, sending a message back. Sounds good. See you soon.

Attempting to play nonchalant, he focused back on his computer screen, eyes scanning the updates on facebook. It was only a few minutes later when a brief knock sounded, and the door was opening, Yifan’s messy dark head appearing in the crack. “Hi.”

A smile stretches along Zitao’s lips, eyes connecting with the male in his doorway.

“Hey.”

A/N Cries a little on the inside. Well, welcome to my first chaptered fic. I blieve it'll be short chapters, with weekly updates. This is just the beginning, setting up the scene kinda thing. Comments and votes make me wheeze with joy.