It’s past midnight when Johnny slops lazily down the hallway to his dorm room. Midterms are in two weeks, and while most of the university doesn’t seem quite up to frenzy level yet, Johnny’s not exactly into procrastinating right now. Last semester he came terribly close to failing one of his classes, and he is not anxious to repeat the experience.

Most of the rooms’ doors are closed. It’s a regular Tuesday night with just the random late night college student heading out for a midnight snack in their pajamas and sandals.

“Johnny? Hey, man. Long time no see,” says a blurry figure with a tiny face.

Johnny rubs his eyes and squints. Five hours of reading textbook fine print have definitely done a number on him tonight. That and this part of the hallway tends to be a bit dim.

“Mark?” He yawns.

Mark grins. “Try not to look so awake, bro.”

Johnny laughs and throws out his hand, clasping Mark’s palm in a sleepy rendition of a handshake. “Yeah.”

Mark doesn’t stop walking, but he turns and walks backwards after they’ve passed, calling out a friendly warning, “Might want to hit up somebody else’s room tonight, man. There’s a sock on your door.”

Johnny doesn’t turn but he imagines Mark’s eyebrows wagging, and that little sideways crooked grin.

“Thanks.” He waves, keeps on walking.

As he nears his dorm room, it’s to find that yes, there is actually a sock on the doorknob. It’s bright red and blue checkered, and smells like a dumpster. And if it were anybody else’s roommate Johnny would take the hint and leave well enough alone.

“Doyoung... I’m gonna ing kill him,” he scowls. There’s only one possible culprit in charge of this tonight.

He pulls out his key and without hesitation unlocks the door. He slams it open just for thrills and is rewarded when the two figures on his roommate’s bed practically leap off the mattress.

“Seems like you’re busy?” He grins, swinging his room key as he toes off his shoes.

Doyoung looks like he’s just had a heart attack. He’s breathing heavy and clutching his chest. “ you, Johnny, didn’t you see the sock on the door?!” His words are heavy, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. Taeyong, now that he’s recovered (he hadn’t reacted quite as dramatically), snaps his laptop closed and looks up.

“I told you Johnny wouldn’t fall for that.  Stupid,” he adds affectionately, looking at Doyoung.

They’re both fully clothed, sweatpants, hoodies, and socks. Well, Doyoung is only wearing one sock. And in no single universe did Johnny actually think he might walk in on his two best friends ing it up in his room. Taeyong and Doyoung are close as can be, practically inseparable, but they’re also the most platonic gays Johnny has ever seen. At least with each other.

“What were you watching?” he asks them.

“Uhh…” says Doyoung.

“Uhmm…” echoes Taeyong.

“Fancams?” offers Doyoung.

“Of… boys.”

“Celebrity boys,” Doyoung clarifies.

Johnny throws his stuff down beside his bed and then hops backwards onto his mattress. The springs creak something awful, but at this time of night and after all those hard backed, splintery wooden chairs he’s been sitting on in the library, it feels like heaven.

He smirks. “You know I’m not going to judge your Kpop obsession, right?”

Doyoung twists his lips into a curious scowl, and Taeyong says, “Really?”

“Well, maybe just a little.”

With the amount of time he spends with them, that might just be the only kind of music Johnny gets to listen to. He’s used to it, almost used to it.

Whatever the two friends respond with, Johnny doesn’t really hear it. His eyelids are getting heavy. He should get up, maybe change out of his clothes. Organize his bag for tomorrow. Make sure his phone is charging, etc. Instead, he probably doses for ten, fifteen, maybe thirty minutes.

Slowly but surely, Taeyong and Doyoung’s conversation filters back into his brain. They’ve reopened Taeyong’s laptop again, Johnny sees, and are spread out on their stomachs, shoulder to shoulder propped up on elbows watching something flashy on the screen. With the volume turned down so low Johnny can’t tell what magical boy band they’re on about this time, but he does appreciate the consideration.

It’s the whispering that finally gets to him.

“, look at that hip roll,” says Doyoung softly, reverently. Taeyong hums, but his jaw is hanging open. Johnny half expects him to drool. “I could eat him alive,” Doyoung continues, and Taeyong hums some more. “Oh , did you see that move. Taeyong, did you see it?!”

“I saw it…wow. Look at the way he moves.”

“Look at those eyes. Damn. Ohhh, you know who he looks like?” Doyoung gasps and clasps his hand over his mouth like he’s about to drop something taboo.

Johnny waits for it, even though this shouldn’t be relevant to him. And then Doyoung steals a peek at him, and Johnny really doesn’t want to know.

But Taeyong does. “Who?”

“Ten!” Doyoung whispers loudly, before he rolls onto his side in a fit of silent giggles.

Johnny drags his feet to the ground and sighs loudly. “Okay, that’s enough. Watch your fancams of celebrity boys all you want, I don’t care. But dude, Ten? Really? Isn’t that just kind of weird.”

Doyoung is still giggling. He sits up though and offers the laptop to Johnny. “What’s weird about it? If you ever wanted to imagine Ten doing like this, here’s your chance.”

Taeyong smacks him on the side of the head, but Johnny doesn’t care.

“Whatever.” He needs to brush his teeth, change his clothes, charge his phone, and all that . Doesn’t have time for their antics. Doesn’t have time to start imagining anything. Because, yeah. Johnny knows what those videos look like, and the last thing he needs right now is to start imagining Ten like that. He’s got enough problems with Ten as it is. Namely , that when Johnny pushes open the bathroom door, toothbrush in hand, it’s to find himself standing face to face with The Man himself.

“Hey, Johnny.”

Ten’s eyes light up in the mirror when he spots him, and Johnny freezes.

Half a year ago, Johnny moved into this dorm building and became roommates with Taeyong. Which lead to him practically sharing a room with Doyoung, who actually sleeps in the room next door, which is attached to Johnny and Taeyong’s room via a communal four-man bathroom. And Doyoung’s roommate is a guy named Ten.

A guy who’s been freaking Johnny the out since the day the met, Ten and his eye smiles and his infectious laugh. Ten, who can worm himself into any social circle and make it seem natural. Ten, who outlandishly decided Johnny could be his soulmate, or something like that. Ten, who flirts without intent, teases without mercy, and also does like step into the shower at seven in the morning when Johnny’s washing his hair because he overslept and is late for class and he can’t be bothered to wait until Johnny’s done showering!

Ten, whom Johnny is pretty sure he likes , because he’s amazing and hilarious and y as hell, and he’s got one hell of a body—Johnny’s seen it all, thanks—though of course that means Ten’s seen all of his too.

Right now Ten’s only wearing his pajama pants, and no shirt. He leans over the sink, toothpaste suds escaping his mouth as he brushes so vigorously. So cutely, Johnny’s brain unhelpfully supplies.

“Uhm. Hey.”

“You’re back late,” says Ten, before leaning over to spit into the sink.

Johnny watches the curve of his back, those lean muscles which have been giving him a hard time since the day Johnny saw him drenched in water under the shower spray.

“Uh, yeah. Studying.”

“So soon? Midterms aren’t for a couple of weeks though?”

Ten holds his gaze through the mirror while he rinses his mouth, spits, then rinses again, and so on. Noticing Johnny holding up his toothbrush, he even scoots over a few inches to make room. Johnny is left without option but to step up beside him and get started with his routine.

Proximity with Ten is really something he should be better at by now. For half a year now he’s been subjected to his suite mate’s unusual touchiness. Not that Ten isn’t like that with every other friend. But while Johnny’s poker face is impeccable, his heart rate is not. He stands at the sink, more than aware of their closeness, of Ten’s bare arm brushing against his, and that curiously friendly look coming at him through the mirror.

“Did you forget your toothpaste?” Ten asks suddenly.

“What? Oh, I did.”

Ten grins. “Here, take mine. I’m done with it, for now. Leave it on the sink when you’re done, yeah?”

“Uhh, I will. Thanks.”

“‘Night, Johnny,” says Ten, approaching the second door which leads into his and Doyoung’s room.

“‘Night, Ten.”

It takes him a full twenty seconds to remember what he was doing. Using Ten’s toothpaste though he brushes diligently, maybe even for too long. He leave it on the sink as instructed, then returns to his room.

Taeyong and Doyoung are still that fancans and YouTube videos, but they’ve turned off the overhead light. Johnny tells them goodnight as well, then hops into bed, falling asleep terribly soon and dreaming of Ten. Of course he dreams of Ten.

 

The thing about college life is that Johnny didn’t really expect it to be this way. He’s five hours from home without a single childhood or school friend in the university. He expected to make a couple new friends, maybe a handful of acquaintances, guys he could hang with just to keep the social life afloat. In truth, he expected it to be more like high school, which for Johnny wasn’t bad and it wasn’t amazing either.

It’s a little unbelievable then, that college has turned out this way. About five hours ago he got the message on their group chat to meet at Jaehyun’s parents’ house. Jaehyun technically lives on campus but he goes home every weekend and occasionally has the guts to throw wild parties on a Saturday night. This time there isn’t even any alcohol involved, something the older guys have been lamenting nonstop upon arrival.

“You wanted to hang out with the whole gang!” cries Jaehyun, exasperated, pointing at the group of high schoolers they’ve apparently known for years, “well this is the only way my parents would agree. So shut up and drink your coke, okay?”

Johnny knows from experience that Jaehyun’s parents are asleep on the third floor with good, high quality ear plugs.

“Think anyone will care if I secretly spike my coke,” asks Doyoung in a staged whisper. Taeyong giggles but looks disapproving. Jaehyun pretends not hear.

Most of the crowd have known each other since high school, and in some cases even middle school. They’re a rowdy bunch with a lot of history, and Johnny is still getting to know most of it. The barest facts he can recall is that most of the guys were or still are apart of an extracurricular dance troupe set in a studio near where most of them grew up. Lots of performances over the years, competitions, etc. Once the oldest guys graduated and went off to the college they set up these little get togethers to keep in touch. Johnny’s not the only ‘newcomer’ to the group. He’s pretty sure Doyoung’s never danced a day in his life either. But it does make it an interesting mix of people with the higher schools and now college age guys all thrown together. Even their majors barely coordinate.

Johnny, Taeil, Taeyong, and Yuta are juniors of various majors. Ten, Doyoung and Kun are sophomores. Jaehyun’s barely a freshman though he doesn’t act like it. And then there’s Sicheng, Taeil’s roommate, also a freshman who does very much act like it.

Johnny watches him from across the room, mainly because it distracts him from watching Ten on the other side of the room. He’s heard lots of about Sicheng from Taeil, mostly under the guise of how Taeil’s taken him under his wing as a great protector. Sicheng’s Korean is still faulty, but not horrible. Johnny thinks he’s possibly too polite to tell Taeil to back off too, though it could just be that he doesn’t mind. The two of them are stuffed into an armchair built for one, browsing Taeil’s phone together, probably playing a game. As for Johnny, he’s crammed into the corner of one of sofas with an elbow nudging his ribs, and at least two sets of feet balancing across his lap. None of them belong to Ten, more’s the pity.

“You look wildly out of it,” says Yuta, owner of the boniest elbow Johnny’s had the misfortune to know.

“Hmmm.”

Yuta smiles. He directs his gaze in the same direction as Johnny’s, taking in the comfortable scene before them. There are just so many boys, everywhere. Every couch, every arm chair, the floor, the table, beneath the table. Half are engaged in a wild circus of swapping video game controls every time someone dies in the game. Most are eating. There’s an action movie playing too loudly in another corner of the room, and frightfully, it’s still too soft for anyone to hear the dialogue over the riotous conversations echoing all over the room. Johnny could sleep easily to this mess. Overall the collective volume of the room is chaos, but it’s also comforting. It’s warm, and it’s welcoming. Johnny’s only known these guys for a couple years but it feels like they’ve been friends forever.

Yuta is still waiting for a response. “Hmmm,” Johnny murmurs again. “It’s just nice.”

“Nice?” Yuta doesn’t believe him.

Someone says something funny from the other couch, and Mark laughs the loudest. He’s younger than the other college kids but he graduated early. They call him the super freshman. There’s also Jungwoo, another high school grad but not yet in university. Everybody else are high schoolers of various years: Donghyuck and Lucas, Renjun and Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle. Jisung is someone’s little brother, Johnny can’t remember right now who.

“I didn’t have this before.” He waves his hand at the scene.

“What?” says Yuta. “A life full of chaotic dudes?”

Johnny smiles. “That’s it.” He snaps his fingers, looking pleased.

“You’re pretty weird, Johnny, if you think this is ‘nice’.” Yuta laughs.

“What, you don’t like it?” He waves his hand again, then he starts counting. Yuta has to help him halfway through but he thinks they get to a grand total of eighteen. It’s hard to keep track when the crowd of friends keep moving and walking about, rotating conversations and swapping drinks. Yuta says there used to be more. Johnny’s never seen such people before in his entire life. He’s rarely had to eat dinner alone since coming to college. Or lunch, or breakfast. Or go to the grocery store by himself. They do laundry in groups some afternoons, study in packs, play really poor games of basketball in the evenings when everyone wants to unwind. Sometimes they go out to dance. Getting some alone time is so rare Johnny has to get strategic about disappearing just to find himself a place in the library where he can study unaccompanied. Hell, some mornings he can’t even shower alone…

Whatever Yuta says, Johnny misses it. He misses a lot of things actually. It’s late on a Saturday, and he’s been exhausted all week. He half expects to pass out right there on the couch but instead he manages to doze on and off for hours. His eyes glaze over from the simultaneous video game and movie flashes. He knows he talks to lots of people, not just Yuta, but he can’t really recall anything after the fact. Somehow he stays awake until Jaehyun starts hauling down blankets and sleeping mats from the second floor closet.

“All kids take the floor! The rest can…” He has to pause while the younger boys whine and the older ones begin shouting out dibs for every available couch and bed in the entire house including Jaehyun’s. “... well yeah, free for all works too.”

Johnny ends up in a guest bedroom on the first floor, on a too soft queen mattress squished in between Taeyong and Doyoung on one side, with Jungwoo on the other. The last thought he registers is wondering where Ten is, if he’s comfortable, if he’s happy, if he’s as warm to snuggle with as Jungwoo apparently is in his sleep.

 

Morning comes too early for Johnny.

In fact, he takes that back. It isn’t even morning yet. The moon is resolutely shining down through the open curtains onto the bed. Johnny’s back is strangely cold. He groans and rolls over, surprised he even can roll over when he realizes Jungwoo is gone, replaced by the soft snores of—Johnny blinks and rubs his eyes—Jungwoo sleeping on the floor, wrapped in Johnny’s comforter.

It’s soon evident why Johnny was awakened. Taeyong is apparently awake and complaining about something, Doyoung by the sounds of it.

“, will you stop?” Taeyong is whispering.

“Hmm?” comes the sleepy response.

“Your , stupid. It’s hard.”

Johnny freezes, unsure he wants to hear anymore of this. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

Doyoung takes a few more seconds to say, “Can’t help it, stupid.”

By the movement of the mattress, it feels like Taeyong tries to shove Doyoung away. When that doesn’t work, Doyoung says, “Will you quit it? Just, I don’t know, help me out.”

Johnny chokes. And two seconds after that, through the darkness Taeyong’s breath catches. “Uhm,” he says cautiously, “Johnny?”

Johnny groans. “Yeah…”

“You’re awake.”

“No ,” he mumbles.

Doyoung is unnaturally quiet. Taeyong hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Where’s Jungwoo?” Doyoung finally asks.

“On the floor,” says Johnny.

“Right. Good. Uhm.”

They exchange a few more awkward breaths before Johnny sighs. “Right. I’m going to go… find some water or something. Have fun you two.”

It’s telling that neither one of them tries to stop him from leaving. He hits the ground with cold, bare feet, narrowly avoiding Jungwoo’s head. For that boy’s sake, Johnny hopes he stays asleep. He grabs a sweatshirt he’d discarded last night on a dresser and goes for the door.

The house is so quiet it’s hard to imagine it as the same place from the last night. Everywhere he turns on the first floor though comes soft little snores. The living room is practically covered in blankets and sleepy bodies. Johnny tiptoes around the couches, amused to see Donghyuck on one of the comfier recliners and Mark on the floor.

The dining room at least is empty. Johnny stops every couple of feet to observe the photographs Jaehyun’s parents have hung on the walls. They’re dance photos, group portraits of the guys from various years. Johnny recognizes half of them as the guys here tonight. It’s nice, he thinks again, to see at least this many friendships sustained for this long throughout the years. He treads silently through it towards the kitchen, which is not empty.

Ten is standing with his back to Johnny, staring out the glass sliding doors at the moonlit backyard. Something about the image takes his breath away. He runs into a countertop at the very moment Ten turns his head.

He smiles.

“Johnny? Isn’t it pretty early for you?” His voice is quiet, intentionally soft.

Johnny barely recovers in time to respond. “Could say the same for you.”

If anything Ten’s smile just grows. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you?”

Johnny shrugs. He’d rather not mention the reason he’s out wandering the halls of a house that’s not his in the middle of the night.

“Thirsty.”

“Yeah?” Ten’s got that flirty look about him now. “What for?”

Johnny heads resolutely over to the fridge. “Water,” he enunciates.

Ten giggles. Johnny finds himself standing next to him soon enough, plastic cup of water in his hand.

There’s a pool out back, though Johnny’s never gotten to use it. Too cold this time of year and it’s all covered up.

“You been swimming here much?” he asks.

Ten nods. “Loads of times. I think I was… twelve when I joined the dance group? Yeah, twelve. Maybe thirteen. Hard to remember now.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Good times, good times.

Because it’s been on his mind, Johnny tells him how impressed he is the guys still keep up with each other like this. He’s blathering mostly, probably not making a lot of sense. Probably not articulating it very well. But Ten keeps on smiling and nodding like he knows what Johnny means, and he doesn’t interrupt him until Johnny pauses, sighing, and says, “It’s just… not really typical, right? It’s not normal.”

Ten’s eyebrows raise. “What’s not normal? All this?” He waves his hand in the direction of the living where all the kids are splayed out sleeping on the floor.

Johnny shrugs. He’s mumbling now, still trying to keep his voice low.

“Maybe you need a better definition of normal then,” says Ten. And oh, he’s got that flirty look back in his eyes.

“Do I?” asks Johnny, returning this most curious challenge.

It’s not the first time he’s had this thought but there’s always been something a little dangerous about Ten. Dangerous in that Johnny knows well how hard he could fall. Nursing a small crush is one thing. Fantasizing about how differently that first ‘shower’ could have gone is another thing. Being the recipient of and occasionally returning Ten’s charming gestures is yet another. But actually going the distance…

There’s a fine line he’s crossing right now, when Ten seeks out his eyes and Johnny stares back. He could look away and that would be the end.

He doesn’t. Instead, Johnny takes the challenge.

Ten his lips, drawing Johnny’s eyes downwards. It’s a short step from there to let Ten walk right into his space. Then there’s a slight pair of hands around his waist, Ten’s thumbs caressing the waistband of Johnny’s sweatpants.

“Hey, Johnny?”

“Hmmm.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Hmm,” he mumbles again. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”