1

The first time Jungwoo officially meets Yukhei is when he accidentally hits him with a cow’s eye.

He’s is in the process of meticulously cutting open the sclera that he doesn’t notice when his lab partner leaves to go talk to another pair, but he supposes Doyoung wasn’t a big help anyway since the boy is squeamish and sensitive to the chemical preservative. At least he left the manual open for him, though it’s carelessly tossed to the side, pages crinkled and stained to the point the words blur together and he can’t tell scapula and scalpel. Jungwoo will manage fine, he hopes. He’ll apologize to the cow later if he accidentally mutilates the optic nerve.

Jungwoo is struggling with the sclera when he hears the door open and sees a person walk into their anatomy lab- someone tall and broad, though he can’t see much more because he has his lab goggles on and not his regular prescription. He tries to make an incision again, but there’s something inside the eye that’s resisting.

Doyoung comes around the table and eyes the eye warily, “You sure you know what you’re doing?” He asks, voicing his doubt. He’s purposely standing a few feet away from any possible projectiles that might launch from the organ. Jungwoo thinks it might be funny if he hit Doyoung with eye juice, but then Doyoung won’t help him. He sighs.

There’s a stretch of silence as Jungwoo shakes the eye experimentally, “Mmm, no, we’re just gonna go for it.” He shakes it once more for good measure and hears something slosh from within the confines of eye.

He smiles. That was probably the lens. But all he has is a scalpel and the sclera is proving to be a .

The iris is the next to go, Jungwoo decides. He’s going to cut a hole and squeeze the lens out, vitreous humor and everything. Though this method isn’t stated in the manual, he reasons that great scientists never achieved anything by looking at manuals.

So he picks up the murder weapon scalpel and stabs the iris. Upon closer inspection, he finds that he’s made a clean cut, and silently rejoices and he continues with his incision.

He removes the top half of the eye. In the light, he can see the lens sitting in the middle.

At first, he gives the eye a shake, and only a few drops of fluid comes out. He carefully shakes it once more, twice, thrice, and the lens stays stubbornly stuck within its confines. Now he’s annoyed. Just a bit.

Jungwoo sighs and widens his stance. There’s nothing you can’t do if you have a purpose in your actions, a great philosopher once said (he thinks). He prepares for the mother of all shakes. He has the eye in his right fist aimed at the tray, his left hand braced on the lab table, and his mouth set in a determined line. One more shake, maybe a squeeze, and he’ll be done.

“Kim Jungwoo?”

Jungwoo perks up at the sound of his name being called. He turns around at the mysterious voice close behind him. Dangerously close; he can feel a warm breath fan across the back of his neck.

His right fist still squeezing.

…

“Ohmygod I’m so sorry did it get in your mouth ohmygod here let me get you a towel I-”

The stranger (who Jungwoo identifies as Yukhei from calculus; they’ve never talked, but the latter is loud and social, and Jungwoo rightly admires from afar) is sporting a very big, smelly stain on his shirt, just above his left pect.

Jungwoo is mortified. And he’s still holding the eye, the lens having popped out and assaulted the upperclassmen. The organ is now on the floor, sadly deflated.

He snaps out of his stupor and promptly drops the eye and runs to the back of the classroom. He practically throws a whole roll of paper towels at Yukhei in his frenzy.

If he gets the stain out, then maybe Yukhei won’t hate him forever and murder him in his sleep. He’s too nice, Jungwoo thinks, with his dopey smile and doe eyes. But as his hands roam over the older’s chest, which did not yield one bit, Jungwoo hopes that his death will be a quick one.

He tries to pat the wet patch, but only succeeds in staining the shirt even further.

Jungwoo whimpers. The room seems to grow hotter by the second.

He has his right hand placed on the upperclassman’s chest, his left hand rubbing frantic circles onto the others left chest. He’s probably too aware that Yukhei has an arm around his waist, his big hand curled on the dip of his side that he’s been meaning to fill out. Yukhei’s other hand is on his shoulder, steadying him when his wobbly knees can’t.

The weight of the elder’s touch on him is dizzying and grounding at the same time, and Jungwoo doesn’t know how he feels. He can’t do anything but grasp at the other’s chest and hope he doesn’t die from mortification. He’s flustered, body hot from embarrassment, though the way his face is flushed and the small noises coming from his mouth would suggest something entirely.

Doyoung watches with a glint in his eye.

“Hey man, it’s all good,” Yukhei starts, an easy smile already placating Jungwoo’s frazzled nerves. “I have a spare shirt in my car. No harm done!”

Yukhei squeezes the hand that’s on Jungwoo’s shoulder and Jungwooo just sort of melts on the inside, akin to a pile of jelly. Yukhei is giving him one of his warm smiles and Jungwoo can’t. The Lord has put in his path a formidable opponent. He crumbles under the might of Yukhei’s touches.

He doesn’t trust himself to not squeak, so he gives a stiff but grateful nod. He stays for a second longer, relishing in the warmth that is Yukhei’s body heat before he coughs awkwardly and steps back.

Don’t be too gay, Jungwoo inwardly scolds himself.

But Yukhei, infuriatingly handsome, nice, and friendly Yukhei, takes it all in stride, complete with a nod and still, his smile is still plastered on his face. Jungwoo love hates it.

The rest of the class period is a blur. He barely even registers Yukhei leaving with a wave in his (his!) direction. Doyoung finishes the rest of the dissection with a self-serving smile.

 

2

 

Jungwoo is late. Like, really late. His professor might actually kill him, which isn’t to say that Jungwoo blames him. He’s more late than he is on time, and today, his professor specifically asked if he could come in early to help with lab preparations for the underclassmen.

He might as well walk, with how late he is.

So he does, but it’s not a leisure walk. Jungwoo fast walks, so he looks out of breath enough to make it seem like he actually tried, just without the effort of running and actually trying.

He nears the door to the classroom and readies himself. He counts to three in his head, anticipates the scolding he’ll receive, and steps forward to push the door in.

As he’s about to push the door in, the door swings back, someone having pulled it from the other side.

Guess I’ll die, Jungwoo thinks. He’s put all his weight on his dominant foot and there’s nothing stopping him from giving the floor his first kiss.

Only, he doesn’t come to eat . He stumbles into a face full of soft, pink cotton. And a subtle hint of cologne. And then he’s suddenly aware of the warmth that enveloped him from both sides.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” A deep voice murmurs from above.

Jungwoo doesn’t say anything- he can’t let the other see the furious blush dusting his cheeks (don’t be too gay! he reminds himself), so he can only nod and burrow deeper into the elder’s chest.

 

3

 

The next time they meet is during a school swim meet. Jungwoo is there to support Mark, who’s on the team even though he only learned how to swim last summer.

It’s a hot day and Jungwoo is, unfortunately, wearing a black sweater and jeans. The shaded area is taken up by the family members of the players so he’ll have to suffer in the heat. Worst comes to worst, he can jump in the pool (and maybe get escorted out so he’ll have an excuse to leave).

He’s idly playing on his phone when he hears a commotion by the entrance of the pool. A large group of underclassmen are entering, many of them flashing their school id’s in a hurry to find a seat before the next set begins. Luckily for them, the entire first row (the splash zone) is empty, unluckily for Jungwoo, who was the only one on the front stands, he gets pushed and pulled around as they clamor onto the metal risers.

Once the kids settle, Jungwoo finds himself uncomfortably squished in the middle of two very sweaty teenagers, with half his barely on the seat. The stands are a few feet from the pool, and if he falls in he swears he’s gonna find Mark and he’s pushing the younger into the pool.

The next set begins and more swimmers emerge from the locker room, but he can’t seem to find Mark (he’s not well versed in swim terminology, so as to what Mark swims, his guess is as good as any), though he does spot a familiar face by the pool.

Yukhei, the upperclassmen who he’d embarrassed himself in front of.

The elder apparently is a swimmer, and oh. He’s swimming this set.

Yukhei is talking to his teammates, unbeknownst to the eyes that follow him. He’s wearing nothing but a tiny speedo that both leaves nothing to the imagination and alludes to something else entirely. Something Large™.

The sun extenuates his soft tan even more, giving him a slight honey glow. Jungwoo can’t help but stare.

He doesn’t dare drag his eyes any more south, though. If only he were a weaker man.

While he was preoccupied distracted, the swimmers had begun to take the starting block. The audience is silent as they await the starting command.

Yukhei, in all his six-foot glory, proudly stands on the block, surveying the pool in front of him. He bends down at the signal from the official, and Jungwoo gets an eyeful. He makes sure to take a mental picture for reference. Reference for what, he’s gonna say drawing. Because this fanfic is not rated M.

The whistle blows, and the swimmers were off. Jungwoo watches as Yukhei dives into the water, body taut and eyes blazing. He swims with a quiet determination, and even though Jungwoo is a stranger to all things swimming, he could tell that whatever style the elder was utilizing, he was swimming well. After all, Yukhei was already gaining speed, and was head-to-head with another swimmer, both of them vying for first place.

Jungwoo only has eyes for him, watching in awe as Yukhei expertly flips underwater and pushes off for another lap. This goes on for another couple of laps (Jungwoo lost count between him staring at Yukhei and the deafening cheers beside him) until Yukhei manages to graze the wall with the tip of his finger a second before second place does. As he emerges from the water, Yukhei’s smile is triumphant- eyes bright as the sun and it was all Jungwoo could do to not melt into a pile of softness.

If it were possible, the cheers become even louder, and when a few of the students jump up to cheer, all of them followed suit and Jungwoo is pulled out of his seat and jostled around the deck.

Right into the water.

Specifically, right into Yukhei.

Jungwoo didn’t have time think has he was suddenly engulfed in water. He feels panic begin to well up from within, and he flashes back to all the times Mark had offered to teach him how to swim. He bets that Mark would leave him to drown as well, just to spite him.

This is it, he thinks. An end to a good life. Well, good in general terms. He’s yet to get laid, nor has had his first kiss (that time during Haechan’s birthday doesn’t count- the latter had his first taste of alcohol and found that he was very much a lightweight). He supposes though, dying in a swimming pool full of swimmers is a little ridiculous, but he doesn’t question it. He probably deserves it. Nonetheless, he makes it his mission to haunt Mark.

As he’s brooding underwater, Jungwoo feels arms wrap themselves around his middle and a solid body press itself behind him. Suddenly, his head breaks water and he’s coughing up a storm.

“...-kay?”

Jungwoo blinks warily, water still stinging his eyes.

“Are you ok?”

“Jungwoo!”

He sees Mark jump into the pool in one fluid motion and swim over to where he’s being held presumably by Yukhei. Who is still holding him. Not that he’s keeping track, but it’s been 37 seconds. His heart might explode.

“I’m ok.” He hears himself say. Which isn’t a lie, unless Yukhei keeps holding him so tightly then he might actually not be ok.

Yukhei finally let's go, but at that point, Jungwoo times it at 2 minutes and 12 seconds.

 

4

 

This time it isn’t Jungwoo’s fault.

Jungwoo has a big presentation due the next period and Doyoung was annoying as ever. The elder is poking and prodding his sides and all in all being a nuisance.

They’re walking towards the science hall when he sees Doyoung smirk out of the corner of his eye. He’s too preoccupied with rereading his notes to inquire why though, so he lets the elder guide him through the hallway.

Doyoung comes to a stop and because he has his arm slung around the youngers shoulders, forces him to stop too. Doyoung idly chats with a few friends, keeping an eye trained on a certain figure at the end of the hallway.

Jungwoo is reciting his lines in his head for the seventh time when Doyoung shifts his grip.

Jungwoo looks up. He catches Yukhei’s eyes from the other side of the hallway, but before he can flash a smile, or even think about how good Yukhei looks in his purple sweater vest, he feels the arm on his shoulder move down to his lower back.

And without pretense, Doyoung gives the biggest shove of the 21st century and sends Jungwoo flying down the hallway, limbs flailing and papers flying. Jungwoo thinks he hears the opening to Ouran Highschool Host Club playing in the background as he trips across the hall.

Right into someone’s arms.

Jungwoo doesn’t bother looking up- he merely sighs into the embrace.

Yukhei’s arms easily find themselves around the elder, given how often they find themselves interlocked. He gives the same dumb smile Jungwoo can’t help but melt under, “How are you?”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes and wiggles around so he can get his arms to lock around Yukhei’s neck, “Good, you?”

 

5

 

At this point, Jungwoo thinks this is getting repetitive.

It’s not that he doesn’t see the wet floor sign. It’s just that he was in a hurry.

“Hey Jungwoo.”

“Hi Yukhei.”

“Are you wearing some new cologne or something? It’s nice.” Curse Doyoung, but also bless him because now Yukhei is nuzzling his neck where he’d spritz his new cologne, courtesy of his idiot best friend.

Jungwoo’s going to pretend that he had bad tuna, and that’s why his stomach feels funny, and not because Yukhei, six foot tall, broad shoulders, and dumb smile Yukhei is hugging and fondling his neck. Nope, not at all.

 

+1

 

Today’s weather is actually pleasantly mild, so Doyoung invites their small group in having lunch outside in the quad. There a slight breeze and the sun is blocked out but some partial clouds, but it’s neither too hot nor too cold so Jungwoo concedes and comes out from his safe cave that is the science room.

Mark, being Mark, has brought out a tarp so they can all sit on the grass without staining anything. He’s also brought a cooler with drinks and cute little sandwiches for everyone.

Jungwoo wants to say something snarky, but the genuine smiles on everyone’s faces has him silent; appreciative. He takes a triangle shaped sandwich and leans back on his hands, his legs splayed out in front of him.

The past week had been stressful due to midterms and multiple projects being due. Jungwoo himself had been stretched thing between his TA position and AP science courses, as well as the new developing factor in his life: a certain dorky swimmer.

He’d kept running into Yukhei ever since that fateful day in anatomy lab, where he was sure he offended the younger in some way.

Jungwoo takes a frustrated bite out of his sandwich. He’s acting like a schoolgirl. Honestly, he was a senior, why is some junior having such an effect on him? Granted, Yukhei was a very attractive junior, one with an adorable laugh, eyes deeper than the sea, and a bubbly personality that perfectly compliments his own subdued one-

Jungwoo blinks. Besides the point.

But he has to admit, Yukhei’s smile had torn through the old, bitter layers of his heart and had taken residence since then. Perhaps that’s why he was so flustered around the younger? Between the looks they shared in the hallways and the heated stares they exchanged, Jungwoo was sure he’d reverted back to his freshmen self- unsure, nervous, and tongue-tied.

He just couldn’t stop his heart from doing flips whenever their hands touch, or when Yukhei held him in his arms.

That was the worst. Yukhei’s arms were big, unnecessarily so. He is a swimmer granted, but his arms seem to wrap around his shoulders perfectly, like they were made to. He’d put just enough pressure to make him feel safe and secure, and to lean in close enough to let Jungwoo smell the musky colonge that was the younger’s signature scent.

He was going to go crazy but time he graduates.

Jungwoo sits up on the grass when a sudden thought intrudes; more importantly, why was the younger taller than him. It was embarrassing really. Every time they ran into each other (quite literally), Yukhei’s arms somehow, always, found themselves around his waist, fingers curled into the feminine curves of his sides.

He wasn’t a girl, goddammit.

Doyoung snickers and playfully punches his shoulder, “You good? You looked mad a moment ago.”

Jungwoo sighs and opens his mouth to speak, but Haechan beats him to the punch, “He’s frustrated he hasn’t been kissed by his boyfriend yet.”

“Y’all .” Jungwoo grumbles, but the pink dusting his cheeks tell another story.

“What are we anyway?” Jungwoo asks, taking the final bite of his food, “Like, we hug at random times in the hallways and we talk on the way to class. He even commented on me trying out a new cologne! Thanks, Doyoung, by the way.” Doyoung hums in response.

“Still, we’re friends, but sometimes when we look at each other it doesn’t feel like friendship? Maybe something more? Like sometimes I look at his lips and he looks at mine and we almost kiss but we don’t. I think I’m going insane.”

“Do you want to?” Mark teases playfully.

Jungwoo pauses. Perhaps? “Maybe? I don’t know I just. It feels good when he holds me.”

Doyoung shakes his head, “You got it bad for him.”

Jungwoo doesn’t deny it.

Lunch passes by slowly as they talk quietly among themselves. They spend most of it soaking up the sun and relaxing as much as they can before class begins again. In the opposite side of the field, a couple of students begin a soccer game.

It’s not distracting though. Jungwoo likes that there’s background noise- it puts his mind at ease so he can focus on the sounds of cheering and yelling, and not his thoughts that seem to be centered on a certain person.

Minutes pass by, and so does the yelling until it becomes louder and stops being background noise. A particularly loud yell stirs Jungwoo from his thoughts.

Jungwoo opens his eyes to see a hulking figure run towards him at top speed.

“WATCH OUT!”

The day was nice, the weather mild, and Jungwoo had just been roused from a deep state of contentment. He couldn’t be bothered to move.

So he stays seated as someone comes barreling towards him, landing in his lap in a heap of arms and legs. He wraps his hands around the person's middle in effort to help soften their landing.

Jungwoo furrows his eyebrows as he gets a better look at the mess in his lap, “Yukhei?” His heart flutters and a familiar heat pools at the base of his belly as he takes in the disheveled appearance of the other boy.

A familiar, teasing smile is aimed at him, “Hey! Looks like our roles are switched now, huh?”

Jungwoo sighs and shakes his head. Nonetheless, he tightens his arms around the younger so that Yukhei has his head buried in his flannel, and the other has his arms wrapped around his waist.

Jungwoo stops thinking. He’ll let things play out on their own.