Inhaeng is not really sure what to think.

When Sungho walks up to him between their classes and shows him a badly made flyer.

“I lost my ass dog again,” he reads slowly, carefully as if he’s trying to figure out the meaning of one of his assigned readings for his literature class.

He looks up at Sungho briefly before he keeps reading, eyes skimming, he mouths softly, “he’s ugly as and keeps running away but I still love him,” the rest is just as equally bad as it is lovingly insulting.  

Inhaeng frowns at the picture placed under the text, a picture of him with his hair combed neatly over his forehead.

He’s not really surprised when he reads the contact information, or even the mediocre reward ( $5ish maybe ).  

“Did Younghoon really just confess to you in the worst way possible?” Sungho asks, voice straining not to crack into laughter, “he put these all over campus.”

Inhaeng closes his book, leans back on his chair, until it tips back and Sungho winces at the screeching sound it makes.

“He’s just playing around,” Inhaeng decides on, forcefully crushing down any fluttery feelings at the idea of Younghoon and confessing .

“He’s offering five dollars maybe to the person who brings you to him,” Sungho reaches for the flyer again, waving it around crazily, “if that’s not true love then I don’t know what is.” 
Inhaeng’s frown returns, creasing his eyebrows, “he’s kidding,” he insists, reaching to open his book again, “ mean but kidding.”

Sungho gives him a look, the kind of look that Inhaeng knows means he’s not really fooling anyone.

He smiles anyway.  

Sungho rolls his eyes, reaches to flick his forehead, smiles victoriously when Inhaeng hisses at the pain, ducking down and clutching at the red skin.

He bites down his curses, eyes watery.

Sungho walks away, walking to his next class.

-

Yoondong finds him on the second floor of the literature department.  He flops down next to him, forces Inhaeng to move over on the polyester chair.

“I didn’t know Younghoon called you ass dog,” Yoondong hums, crossing his legs over each other, “kinda strange you’re into that,” he goes on, completely ignoring the way Inhaeng’s cheeks begin to pink, “I thought you would like pet names like baby better or honey.”

Inhaeng loves Yoondong, he really does.  Between his past ill fated past crush and Yoondong’s effortlessly cuteness, it’s hard not to love him.

But Yoondong likes to push and press.  His cuteness edges away to blunt words and scalding looks.

“Shut up,” Inhaeng stage whispers, eyes looking around, catching the way the floor is completely empty, students in class, “when will you stop speaking so informally,” he adds as a weak plead.

Yoondong makes a clicking sound, shrugging, “between all of us I think I’m the most responsible,” he offers a cherubic smile, “I can’t really respect someone who likes to be called ass dog or someone who calls the person he clearly likes something like that.”

“He doesn’t like me,” Inhaeng can’t help it, his voice drops to a whine towards the end, frustration and embarrassment slowly creeping up with a blush, “he’s just playing a stupid prank.”

Inhaeng knows Younghoon, knows that he never passes up the chance to do something stupid.  In fact Inhaeng sometimes feels like Younghoon purposely looks for these chances, getting some sort of satisfaction from the stupidity.

Yoondong doesn’t say anything to that, Inhaeng waits nervously for whatever the younger boy is about to say.

“He put them up everywhere ,” Yoondong finally says, “like even for a prank, this seems like so much work for such a boring one.”

Inhaeng knows, his own book bag is full of crushed up flyers he’s ripped off walls on his way to his classes, avoiding stares from the other student as they pass by him.

“You know how he is,” Inhaeng tries to go for breezy.

“You mean totally weird?” Yoondong grins, “because then yeah I do know.”

-

Inhaeng has a terrible history of tragic crushes.  He’s too obvious, falls too easily in love and lets people step on him while he’s down.

Now, after a time too many of broken hearts and the lingering bitter taste of words unsaid, Inhaeng likes to think he’s gotten real good at keeping his infatuation hidden.

Of course, unlike other times, it doesn’t really help that sometimes, not a lot of the time, but enough times that Inhaeng starts growing some sort of frail half hope, Younghoon acts like he feels the same, like he’s smiling at Inhaeng softly because he likes him, or that he looks for him because he wants to be with him.

But just as Younghoon gives affection he jabs back.

Sungho says Younghoon is still mentally in kindergarten, where boys pull pigtails and throw rocks at the people they like.

And if that’s really the case than Younghoon must really like him a lot, because these stupid flyers with his stupid picture and stupid reward are everywhere and no matter how hard he tries they seem to multiply with each one he takes down.

He makes it to the corner of the science building that Heecheon likes to occupy. There’s a giant window right next to it and the spring sun leaks through the glass panes, making Heecheon skin appear brighter, his blond hair shining with it.

Inhaeng doesn’t say anything as he sits next to him, takes out his late lunch, bought from the school’s cafeteria.

Heecheon slumps forward, head on the table, eyes half mast in a sleepy gaze.

“I don’t have money for food,” Heecheon mumbles.  

Inhaeng reacts almost immediately to the words, pushing his tray of food to the other boy.  But his eyes aren’t look at Inhaeng, rather past him and when Inhaeng turns to look, he really wishes he could disappear.

“Thanks,” Heecheon murmurs when Younghoon reaches around Inhaeng and gives him what he assumes is five dollars maybe .

Inhaeng wants to glare at his supposed friend, but he’s stuck between being alone with Younghoon and trying to desperately use telepathy to beg Heecheon to stay with him.

Younghoon sits where Heecheon was seconds ago, leaning his elbow on the table, head resting on his hand.

He looks at Inhaeng waiting expectantly.

“You are the worst,” Inhaeng starts, face trying to contour into one of anger but he only manages mildly upset puppy.

“You were ignoring me,” Younghoon says simply, “I’ve been sending you messages and calling you for the past three days and you have been purposely ignoring me.”

Inhaeng doesn’t say anything to that, bites his tongue to keep himself from saying something stupid.

“What did I do wrong, hyung?” Younghoon’s face breaks into one of concern, insecurity.

Inhaeng is at a lost of words, he can count the number of times Younghoon has called him hyung with one hand easily.  

He wants to bring up the posters but he knows that’s not what Younghoon means.  He pushes against the words that threaten to spill over.

You said you liked me and I’m not sure if you were kidding or not.

“You said I was ugly,” Inhaeng finally says, "and you called me a ass dog.”

Younghoon, to his credit, doesn’t laugh, instead gives him a pained look.

“I also said I loved you,” Younghoon says quietly, “and that I already bought you things.”

Inhaeng’s heart feels like it’s missed a beat, an unpleasant feeling he’s lately connected to Younghoon.

“You’re really confusing,” Inhaeng says, “why can’t you just say one thing?”

Younghoon groans at that, drags a hand over his face.

“It’s hard to be honest,” he says, “you’re,” he swallows nervously, “you’re the first boy I’ve liked.”
Inhaeng feels the way his face heats up, can picture just how red his cheeks are, can feel it rush down his neck.

Younghoon’s eyes follow the flush and it only makes it worse.

“Do you like me or do you love me?” Inhaeng asks, knows that he’s being unfair but needs to know, needs to know what Younghoon is really thinking.

“I, ugh, I -” Younghoon’s voice cracks, “I don’t know, ok,” he sounds vaguely like he wants to cry, “I - please take it easy on me,” his voice drops, “I like you ok but you’re also not the kind of person I usually like...and I,” he makes another frustrated sound, “and I don’t really know how this works of if I can really do this.”

Inhaeng blinks at the honesty, at how frustrated this all seems to be.

“But you like me,” Inhaeng asks, selfishly, “even though you think I’m ugly and a “ass dog.”

“I panicked ok,” Younghoon smiles, small when he sees Inhaeng is smiling too, “but yes I like you, I like you a lot and even though this is new to me I want to try it out with you, if you’d let me.”

He’s heart has been replaced by butterflies, the feeling flutters relentlessly against his insides.

“On one, condition,” he says, smile widening, Younghoon tilts his head in question.

“Take down all those stupid posters.”