Wednesday comes uneventfully; early in the morning the sun is hidden by gray clouds, and the strong winds carry the smell of damp grass, signaling the soon to come rain. Students pile up inside their buildings, no one daring to risk losing class over the impending storm. Groups run towards the big gray structures, girls complaining about their bad choice of clothing – some use short skirts or shorts, others use short-sleeved shirts, few wear dresses – and boys shoving each other in childish games.

Hongbin watches everything from his class’ window, not interested in the lecture his teacher is giving about… he’s not really sure. Cows’ digestive system?

Whatever.

Lightening, white and bright lights up the skies, followed seconds later by loud thunder, rumbles through the classroom. His teacher – an annoying woman with voice similar to a cockatoo – squeaks like a mouse, her marker squealing in the big white board, messing with some of her writing and her grossly accurate drawing of said digestive system. Immediately after, rain starts to pour, and Hongbin actually smirks when a couple who was making out in the middle of the campus is caught, separating instantly so they can run in opposite directions. Servers them right, for their lack of awareness.

The slight prickle of envy and jealousy has nothing to do with it.

It’s not as if he wishes to be in the boy’s place, kissing his girl – Youngji’s smiling image pops instantly in his mind, surrounded by a golden halo – as they say each other a ‘see you soon’, before each leaving for their respective building, the idea of separating for hours almost too much for their smitten hearts. It’s not.

Hongbin pouts, leaning his head on his hand, eyes distant as he zones out again, ears detached of the teacher’s incessant talking – he’s sure there are not that many phases to a cow’s digestion, and he’s sure because he has already read his textbook – and focusing on any other sound, such as the tick of the clock on top of the board or the suave scratching sound made boy by his side, doodling voluptuous anime girls on his desk. He needs to bear this for more fifteen minutes before he has a free period, which he’ll spend on the first floor lab, preparing the mice for the last years’ Pharmacy class; being his class’ maknae has its perks, but most of the time, it only makes him work more than the others.

The boy by his side – his name starts with J… Jaehyuk? Jihwan? – is finishing his fourth doodle – a busty girl with ponytails and sailor uniform – when the bells indicating the period’s end ring, and Hongbin leaps upright, the first to do so, walking straight to the door, exiting the damned place and heading to the lab; the faster he does his ‘duty’, the more time he has to do nothing.

As expected, the place is empty – exceptionally dirty too; he bets it’s some chemistry class fault –, and Hongbin picks his lab coat inside the students’ closet, grimacing at its’ condition; he’ll have to wash the thing soon. Putting it on, he starts by cleaning the desks used to handle the small animals, frowning upon seeing all the beakers and cups and all kinds of materials, dirty and scattered around the room. His inner perfectionist and clean-freak shivers when he cleans the tables, a sticky, blue – why blue? Why sticky? – substance staining the cloth he uses.

Clean this, clean that, and twenty minutes later he’s almost done, only missing the floor, which is surprisingly spotless if compared to anywhere else inside the room. Hongbin is sweating and feeling proud of himself when the door squeaks open.

He’s focused on scrubbing one point on the floor, so his view begins with legs, damn long legs – both in jeans, one black, and the other dark blue – followed by torsos – clad one in a black hoodie, other in a dark green sweater – and finally… faces.

Freaking fudge.

Buddha help him, he’s staring straight into the faces of Han Sanghyuk and Jung Taekwoon. Jung Taekwoon.

It’s Hongbin first time seeing them so close, and damn, he never imagined people could actually look so good, especially while wearing simple clothing; he knows he looks good, for example, but even on normal days he puts some sort of effort on his clothes and hair – his out-of-bed hair should be considered a crime – but these two apparently don’t know the meaning of working hard on looks. For someone so young, Sanghyuk – he’s what? 20? – is the tallest and the one with the sharpest jaw; his lips are set in a tight line, similar to his dark eyebrows, in a glare that shoots goosebumps all over Hongbin’s spine with its’ killing intent, distracting him from a nose that could be cute. The blond-platinum hair only adds to form a perfect image of a delinquent.

Now, Taekwoon must be something of another world.

Hongbin likes his boys pretty. He likes them smaller than him and lithe. Likes them with a bit of sassy on their moves and fire in their eyes.

Jung Taekwoon is pretty, yes, but he also emanates an air of untouchable handsomeness, with his wide shoulders stretching the sweater he wears; it doesn’t do much to hide an impressive figure of great proportions, his dark jeans hugging his toned and long legs. His face is impressive too, light blond hair framing fair and clean skin, his jaw is sharp at the same time his cheeks are slightly chubby. The darkest of eyes are distant and cold, as if he’s there only in body, not mind, and even his pout-like lips are arranged in a way his face is completely devoid of expression; he’s a statue, an Adonis sculpted out of ice, perfect and unattainable.

He’s everything Hongbin’s type is not.

He’s ed. Utterly, completely ed. There’s no way he’ll be able to stand closer than 3 feet from him; seduce him is out of question. Nope.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” the voice belongs to Sanghyuk, and thanks to Buddha – or any god out there – the boy doesn’t have a really deep, tough, alpha-like voice – he begrudgingly admits Wonshik’s voice is all of those –  but that tone between a teenager and a fully grown man.

It doesn’t make his words any less rude or his tone less menacing, though.

Snapping out of his kind of trance induced staring, Hongbin puts one of his best smiles; first impressions are important “Oh, I’m sorry. Can I help with something?” he politely asks, curious about why two of the three infamous B1 students are doing in the B5, a fifteen minute long walk separating the two buildings. With the still rumbling rain – now he notices their sneakers are wet, as is the bottom of their pants – make that twenty.

“For a matter of fact, yes, you can. You will” the director’s already narrowed eyes narrow more, only two slits visible, but capable of cutting diamonds. He doesn’t seem to care for the fact that Hongbin is older than him; he doesn’t bother to present himself, bow or ask for the vet student’s name either, standing arrogantly with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I will?” Hongbin can’t help but arch an eyebrow, mildly offended by the boy’s attitude, smile dropping to a smirk; he’s not one to receive sassiness without countering, as intimidated as he feels “Until I don’t see your need, I can’t do anything– Besides, with such poor manners, I don’t think I can help you… At all”

If looks could kill, Hongbin would be six feet under, being eaten by worms. Sanghyuk is digging holes on his forehead, his mouth contorting itself to a snarl “You’ve got guts, but let me tell you something, greasy flower boy–” his long legs propel him forward, and in two strides he bursts Hongbin’s personal bubble, danger practically oozing from his tall body “I–“

“Meow”

The sound is faint, but still echoes in the room and cuts Sanghyuk’s words short. Both boys turn to face Taekwoon – in the same position, with the exactly same, vacant expression – who calmly takes a tiny orange cat from his sleeve. The animal meows again, strained and slightly agitated; from his position, the veterinary major can see one of its’ minuscule paws wrapped up in bandages, and a red flag immediately rises in his head.

He passes through Sanghyuk – bumping their shoulder with a bit of too much force – and goes to Taekwoon, ignoring the way his heart suddenly decides to dance BIGBANG’s Fantastic Baby on his ribcage, beating frantically, to the point he can hear his pulse on his ears, loud and erratic; a wave of heat climbs up his neck, settling on his cheeks. Hongbin suddenly remembers his appearance – lab-coat dirty, hair ruffled and greasy with sweat – and resists the desire to pass through Taekwoon and head to the door; if not, dig a hole in the floor and stick his undignified face in it. Forget about first impressions. Maybe next time.

Professionalism. He needs to care for the tiny, minuscule kitten, and then he can freak out with the fact he’s closer than 3 feet from Jung Taekwoon, a living sculpture. “Hello there, little kitten” his voice immediately warms. It’s so tiny and cute.

The kitten meows again, tucking its’ face back into the compositor’s sleeve.

“No need to be afraid of me” Hongbin bents a bit, enough to get closer to the green sweater; he doesn’t look up, not one to risk meeting Taekwoon’s face, if it changed in any way as he asks “What’s its name?”

He doesn’t really expected a answer – the older boy’s unwillingness in speaking well known – so his still frantic heart leaps out of his chest when he hears a small “Caramel”

Hongbin’s mind can’t really process Sanghyuk’s snort behind him, or the rain thumping on the high windows, the slight shuffling the cat – Caramel – does on the oldest clothes. For someone so intimidating and cold on the exterior, Taekwoon has a soft, low, kind of fragile voice, somewhat a similar to his idol Park Hyo Shin, and he understands why the University teachers often ask for him to sing in their musicals; if his singing voice is anything like his speaking voice, he’s liquid gold, melting hearts and scarring people for anything on lower level.

It’s a pity Hongbin will have to seduce him; break that untouchable aura he emanates.

Except it is not. Park Hyo Shin’s concert and the prospect of finally having a pet are sufficient for him to carry with the bet.

“Caramel” the name is clichéd for an orange cat, so it’s cute – he totally didn’t think that; Taekwoon is scary, scary ice statue, not cute – Taekwoon named it that “Caramel, come with me so we can look at that paw of yours”

Taekwoon moves, taking the kitten out of his sleeve with the utmost care, carefully holding it for Hongbin to hold; their fingers brush in the exchange; Taekwoon is cold, similar to his eyes and face, but the touch sends small tingles through Hongbin’s hand and arm. He picks Caramel, careful not to force the injured pawn unnecessarily. He goes to the closest large metal table, setting the animal on top of it, so he can remove the expertly made bandage.

Too expertly made. “Caramel looks well treated”

“That’s because she was” Sanghyuk is back in the picture, and he sounds just as murderous as three minutes ago.

“I don’t understand why–”

“We can’t keep her, and everyone knows the messy zoo the B5 is”

Hongbin bites his lip to say anything back; Sanghyuk is kind of right. Housing all nature-related courses, the building and its precincts are full of several types of animals, from a mini aquarium in the seventh floor, to a glass house with snakes and reptiles in general, a medium sized barn with horses and a creepy as hell insect rearing. This, overlooking the free animals and pets the students and professors alike keep within the B5 limits. The place deserves its status as a zoo. But it’s not messy.

“And you want this ‘messy’ zoo to keep her?” Hongbin empathizes the ‘messy’, mocking “Great way of showing how much you care for her”

He hears a disgusting noise of cracking joints, holding his gulp. He’s stupid, but it’s not really his fault his brain likes to ignore a social filter before his mouth spills what could probably end with him getting his bones crushed. Despite not appearing muscular, Sanghyuk is taller and certainly has experience in the breaking bones area, if the rumors are 1% true. “Let’s go hyung. We’re done here”

Sanghyuk’s voice is tense, but incredibly warmer as he addresses these words to the oldest male. Hongbin doesn’t hear an answer from Taekwoon; he’s the type who speaks barely the necessary, and having someone like Sanghyuk to talk for him daily, then he doesn’t need to.

It’s too soon. With the damn brat accompanying the compositor, there’s no way in Heaven, Earth or Hell Hongbin will get a chance to be closer to Taekwoon.

“Help me” he whispers desperately to the orange ball of fluff, seeking anything to make the older stay for a longer time, or tie him to the place for a later encounter. Caramel lazily one uninjured paw, looking in his direction with large blue eyes.

An imaginary light bulb glows on the top of his head, and Hongbin turns so quickly his neck cracks painfully. The B1 duo is by the door, Sanghyuk already on the hallway, shacking what at this distance appears to be an umbrella; Taekwoon waits in a frozen-like posture that seems to be common for him to stand. “Ah, Taekwoon-ssi!”

Said boy hardly moves, slightly moving his head to gaze at Hongbin with those black pits of nothingness. He, unsurprisingly, doesn’t speak.

“Well…” this is his only chance, Hongbin can’t commit a mistake. Breathe in, breathe out– “You can come whenever you want– You seem to be fond of Caramel, and I’m sure she would appreciate the visit, especially being hurt. It may not seem like it, but cats do enjoy familiar company, and… uh… We have dozens of cats here…” Hongbin can only hope Taekwoon likes cats the most – and dimples, since he flashes his own, charmingly – and it’s not doing some one-in-a-lifetime generous act.

Not a twitch in the inexpressive face, not a signal he listened to Hongbin.

Of course. How conceited of him to think that in less than fifteen minutes he could convince the most unattainable one of the unattainable trio to come again, possibly to see him again, only for a kitten he doesn’t want to maintain. Hongbin sometimes scolds his own arrogant ; his face won’t help him today, and he can’t trust his tongue. Damn it, if only Sanghyuk isn’t near, acting like a hound, he could use some more direct flirting

“… Okay”

For a minute, Hongbin considers an illusion, a mere distortion of his anxious mind, a wisp of whistling wind. Taekwoon’s eyes are less cold – still could freeze someone, but not an entire room – as he stares Caramel, tranquilly cleaning herself on top of the table. He doesn’t look soft – Hongbin can’t think of him as soft – in any ways, but it’s kinda… comforting to see him relaxing because of a nearly ten centimeters long cat.

“Hyung” Sanghyuk holds his hand, and Taekwoon takes it, entering under the red umbrella; Sanghyuk’s arm sneaks around Taekwoon’s waist, pushing him close. He throws one last dirty look in Hongbin’s direction, before smiling to the oldest – and hell, he’s a child, a baby who pretends to be 20 years; he can’t have more than 15 – and leading him away.

Watching the two walking away, Hongbin pushes one hand into the sweaty strands of his hair, groaning loudly “It could have been worse” he mumbles to himself, trying to sound convincing.

Doesn’t really work.

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Like the title suggested, finally our beautiful, pretty little babies Hongbonbin and Woonie met each other! Okay, Sanghyukkie was there too, but they met! Almost 3k words worth only for this moment!

Tiny kitten Caramel was inspired by a cat I owned a few years ago, named Miyu (may you eat all the mice you want whetever you are), who quite expertly made my other cat Haru (a lazy old ball of fluff) sick with its incessant trolling. He was a tiny, devilish thing... *sighs*

 Well, that's it. I would like to thank everyone who reviewed and subscribed, I love you all~

Special thanks to blossomtears for being such a threatening little darling ^^

Let me try to post the next chapter in two weeks maximum.

See yah all soon~

Ps: sorry for my mistakes, please feel free to point them out ^^'