Being a typical Type A extrovert, and the possible reincarnation of a tenacious Corgi, Baekhyun acts first and thinks about it later, if at all. It’s his life policy when meeting and dealing with people, and he’s earned a lot of friends with his tried and true methods.

He may need to rethink his habits, however.

Between one and one twenty in the afternoon, Sehun is out of class and walking towards the cafeteria. Baekhyun knows this, having memorized Sehun’s schedule, and waits. Oh Sehun is tall, broad-shouldered, and handsome like a model. Those qualities all in one person hurts Baekhyun’s pride a little, so he likes to ruin the image once in a while by making him laugh until he’s squeaking and clapping like a seal or by scaring him and drawing out a shriek.

Today seems like a scary day. The sun is shining; there are no clouds except far on the horizon; and birds are throwing water out of their stone bath in the new butterfly garden. Baekhyun takes a seat on one of the pebbled benches, partly obscured by a voluminous bush, and waits.

His mind wanders as person after person passes. There’s someone on a skateboard, then a couple bikes, even two girls on rollerblades.

Then a pair of legs wearing denim with more holes than material.

Baekhyun sneaks from his spot and sets a brisk pace that narrows the gap between them. His arm closes the gap entirely.

His hand catches cheek and squeezes. Sehun usually jumps, spins away, and covers his with his hands, looking totally affronted and adorable with a brilliant blush to his cheeks.

He doesn’t this time.

The cheek tenses beneath his hand, and he hears a whiny why?!, and he pulls his hands to his belly to lace his fingers nervously.

It isn’t Sehun’s .

He’s probably seen the guy around campus, but he’s still a stranger, and he has cheekbones that could probably cut Baekhyun’s fingers and lips curled like a cat’s. They’re not smiling, but they’re still curled, and it’s really attractive. Baekhyun hasn’t seen lips like that.

“Can I help you?”

Baekhyun drops into a bow so deep he nearly smacks his forehead against his knees. “I am so sorry! I thought you were my friend!”

“If that’s how you greet your friends, maybe I should be.” He laughs, a distinct ha ha ha! that has Baekhyun meekly lifting his head, and oh. The sunlight’s highlighting his hair and cheekbones and line of his Adam’s apple and Baekhyun feels the familiar stirring of infatuation.

“I’m Kim Jongdae. I was heading to the cafeteria to get some lunch. You free?”

Baekhyun blinks stupidly. “You’re not mad?” He stands up and realizes there is no way he could’ve mistaken Kim Jongdae for Oh Sehun. Jongdae is even shorter than Baekhyun, and he’s only eye-to-chin with Sehun.

He’d been too focused on the .

Jongdae shrugs. He steps off the path and onto the new grass, gently touching Baekhyun’s elbow to pull him aside and allowing a cluster of female students through. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean it; you apologized. It’s just on the right side of ridiculous to be forgivable.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “Are you coming or not?”

He’s done with classes for the day and had only eaten an apple on his way to his first morning class. Mentioning food again, his gut growls. “I’m starving.”

“You certainly grabbed my buns like a starving man.”

“I said I was sorry!”

Jongdae barks a laugh again and holds the door open for Baekhyun. It’s uncomfortably hot in-between the outside doors and the doors opening into the building. Maintenance hasn’t turned the heat down with the warmer spring weather, anticipating cold snaps and miserable rainy days.

“I usually meet my brother for lunch,” Jongdae says. “If I don’t, he’s more likely to sleep than eat, and then he’ll have no energy at all for the rest of the day.” They survey the tables. Baekhyun waves to some classmates and friends. Jongdae must not see his brother.

The cafeteria is set up with the kitchen in the middle and seating encircling it, like boats surrounding an island. Salad and soup bars are smaller islands, repeatedly checked and restocked. Baekhyun thinks the food is pretty good and can’t complain too much. There’s a variety of options borrowed from other cultures along with staple Korean foods.

He follows Jongdae, deciding his shrunken gut needs something really filling. Piling a bowl with sticky rice, he grabs a bit of everything within reach and ends up with a tray of what would usually never be served together but has him up a bit of drool threatening to slip down his chin.

Jongdae, he notices, choses his food more carefully. He’s actually pretty skinny, and his food seems to be divided in neat portions.

I am such a pig, Baekhyun thinks. But I will a full, happy pig.

He amends his mental remark when Jongdae grabs a second tray and piles it with rice, chicken, beef, noodles, and vegetables. It looks more appetizing than Baekhyun’s tray, but it’s still a lot of food. Maybe he’s the type to pack up cafeteria food to eat later, in his dorm. Baekhyun’s done that. He needs to remember to take the Tupperware back home. His mom is running low.

After making a full circuit of the foods offered, Jongdae mumbles something and makes a beeline for a table by the outside wall of windows. A tall, fake potted plant in need of a good dusting shades the student lying there with their head pillowed on crossed arms.

“This is Jongin,” Jongdae introduces softly. “Notice how he’s already asleep?” He stops a foot away, puffs his chest up like a rooster, and crows, “Jonginnie!”

Boy’s got lungs.

Even expecting it, Baekhyun flinches and nearly drops his croissant.

Jongin has it worse. He jumps so bad his knees strike the underside of the table, and Jongdae catches his back with his foot to keep him from falling. He looks up with wide eyes and wild hair, and Baekhyun can’t see the resemblance to Jongdae.

His shock melts to petulence, and Jongin slouches with a whine. “Hyung…!” He picks at his bangs with his fingers. His ears are red.

Jongdae chuckles and sets the overfilled tray in front of him. “This is a cafeteria, Nini. You eat here and sleep in a dorm room, on a bed, remember?”

“The sun’s warm…” Jongin mumbles around a piece of chicken. He’s already eating.

Baekhyun sits across from the brothers.

“Jongin’s a dancer,” Jongdae says, weighing the options of chopsticks versus a fork. “You wouldn’t think it from how much he sleeps, but he’s actually very energetic a lot of the time. In spurts, like a cat. Oh, Jongin, this is…” He trails off and exchanges a look with Baekhyun.

He never introduced himself.

Nearly choking on a mouthful of rice, he beats his chest and wheezes his name.

“Byun Baekhyun,” Jongdae continues smoothly. “He grabbed my outside.”

“It was an accident!”

Jongin’s chicken is gone. He’s scooping noodles from their soup with chopsticks. “How do you accidently grab someone’s ?”

“Mistaken identity.” Jongdae shrugs.

“Mistook you for some other ?” Jongin mumbles it, but Jongdae still hears it and pinches his side. The noodles fall over the edge of the bowl.

“I really am sorry.” Baekhyun pushes his food around, wondering if he should just excuse himself and run away for a few weeks until everyone’s forgotten. He doesn’t usually feel embarrassed, but Jongdae is cute, and that makes all the difference. “I wasn’t paying enough attention.”

“My is pretty dazzling,” Jongdae remarks, stuffing a dumpling in Jongin’s mouth before he can comment. “Who did you think I was, though?”

“My friend’s usually here around now; his class lets out at one-ish. I thought it was him. Oh Sehun, an underclassman.”

“Sefoon?” Jongin mumbles around the dumpling. He swallows, arching forward like a cat hoarking up a hairball as he chokes. “I have class with him. How is he at all even remotely similar to my brother?”

Jongdae looks between them, bright with curious expectation. “Who’s Sehun?”

“He’s my height and built like a comic book superhero. Big shoulders and tiny waist. No , although it’s gotten better since he joined our dance troupe.”

“So should I be offended?”

“No!” Baekhyun stresses as Jongin nods and says yes.

“You’re nicer than he is, hyung.” Jongin shakes his head, like it’s such a pity to try and ingratiate himself to Jongdae.

“Nicer than who?” Pale arms encircle Jongin’s neck, and a tall body bends over him, pushing him into his food. “Oh, hyung! I wondered where you were. I didn’t know you knew Jongin.” Baekhyun waves, casting a nervous look at Jongdae, who’s blatantly checking out Sehun.

And he’s not sure if Sehun’s posing for him or not, but he’s shifted his hold on Jongin so he’s arching his back and sticking his out with a leg casually bent and crossed over the other.

“We just met. This is Jongdae, his brother.”

“He thought I was you and grabbed my .” It’s becoming a favorite story of his, apparently.

Sehun blatantly stares at Jongdae’s person and gapes at Baekhyun. “How?”

Baekhyun throws his arms up. He’s moved beyond mortified. His appetite is gone, but he keeps eating, just as an excuse to not look at anyone. He’s just tired and can’t feel his ears, because they’re burning all the feeling away. “I wasn’t paying attention, okay?”

“No offense, hyung, but there’s a little bit of a size difference.”

“Not where it counts,” Jongdae comments seriously. Jongin groans, and Baekhyun has no brain-to-mouth filter.

“I wouldn’t speak so soon.”

“Hyung!” Sehun hisses. His ears are red, too, color bleeding down his neck and coloring the bit of chest visible in the open V of his collared shirt. He ducks his head into his arms. Jongin tilts his head to accommodate and keeps eating.

Jongdae looks intrigued, eyebrows drawing together. “Oh?”

“He knows how to pick locks,” Sehun mutters into Jongin’s shoulder. There’s a heaviness to his words that carries a lot of untold stories and past trauma. Baekhyun looks back on them as rather fond memories.

“Oh?”

“It’s a valuable life skill! Sehun’s ungrateful, now,” the sullen subject bats the chopstick pointing to him out of Baekhyun’s hand, but he catches it again with some grace, “but when I unlock a door and find him unconscious on the floor, he’ll thank me.”

“Only if you actually do something.” Sehun scowls, looking as intimidating as an upset puppy. Adorable. “Like call for help.” He pats Jongin’s shoulders. “Are you done?”

He is. While others talk, Jongin eats, and he finishes gnawing a chicken bone clean with a sated sigh. “Thanks, hyung.”

“See you later, Jonginnie,” Jongdae chirps. Sehun and Jongin stand—Jongin’s really is close to Sehun’s size, Baekhyun notices; his male aesthetic—and leave, and Baekhyun is left with Jongdae and a somewhat awkward silence between them.

What could they talk about? Baekhyun’s apologized a few times for grabbing his , and that’s been most of the conversation.

Jongdae picks a topic, delicately dividing the peel of a mandarin orange to remove the entire thing in one large piece.

“So where did you learn to pick locks?”

Not Baekhyun’s first choice, but he takes it and runs with it.

“I kinda taught myself, I guess. Sehun’s first year, we were roommates, after I’d wanted to switch rooms, and I’ve never liked that weird, awkward politeness when you first meet someone. Especially if we’re literally living together. So while he was showering, I just let myself in and joined him.” He chuckles. “He wasn’t happy and started locking the door, which got others mad. But he soon got used to it. Now, he doesn’t even complain about it; he whines more about me putting more suds on him, so he can’t leave.”

“You still room together?”

“No. Just shower, sometimes. It’s a good opportunity to catch up on stuff.”

Jongdae laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.” He shakes his cup, rattling the ice around, and tips it back into his mouth. Crunching, he slurs around a chunk of ice, “I can’t even remember the last time I bathed with someone.” He swallows and shakes the cup again. “Probably back in primary school, with Jongin.”

“Well, it’s a great way to make friends.” He holds up a finger. “And I said make friends, not meet people. I recommend it.”

“For someone like you, it works.” Baekhyun tilts his head. “Few people are so bold as to just grab someone’s as a casual greeting.”

“Fair enough.”

“And speaking of grabbing—you have a really firm grip.”

The blush is back. Baekhyun buys time by poking around his drink with the straw. “I can only apologize so many times…”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” He waves to someone he knows, smiling pleasantly. “What do you do? I’m an advertising major.”

“I was a music major in undergrad. Piano and voice. Now I’m majoring in business. I also teach hapkido on the weekends.”

Jongdae nods sagely. “That explains the grip. How late do your weekend classes go?” His straw makes a dry sound, and he rattles the cup with a little frown.

“They’re just mornings and early afternoon.” It could be the end of the conversation. It’s the end of Baekhyun’s lunch, anyway. All that’s left is a sad little pile of cucumbers.

He’ll eat but never cucumbers.

“I thought we could go out for a movie or dinner or something. Compensate me for the emotional trauma you caused.”

“You said you didn’t mind!”

“No, I said it wasn’t a bad thing.” He shrugs. “But I’ll also say just about anything for free food.”

“So now I’m paying?”

“You don’t have to say ‘yes.’” Jongdae piles his chopsticks, napkin, and empty cup onto his tray, nonchalance coloring his voice in a way that drives Baekhyun to desperately salvage their almost-relationship.

“I want to!” He’s always been the one pursuing people and making dates. He’s never been the one pursued, and he’s not about to make it at all difficult for Jongdae. “This Saturday. Pick a movie and text me,” he says, sliding his phone across the table.

Jongdae grins, looking like the cat that ate the canary. After making a contact for himself, he returns the phone, and Baekhyun looks at it; he has gotten phoney info once or twice, and it’s made him somewhat cautious.

Name—Kim Jongdae, checks out. Number—looks legit. Oh, even birthday—they’re only a few months apart in age.

“I’ve gotta go,” Jongdae says, “but I’ll see you Saturday.”

Baekhyun watches him go, memorizing the shape of him, so he won’t make the same mistake again.

Meeting life’s happenings head on and hands first still works. It’s nice to know he doesn’t have to rethink his habits just yet.

a/n: Written for BaekeDaelights fest. (prompt no.25 From this tumblr prompt ""You look a lot like my good friend so I ran up behind you and grabbed your in front of everyone I'm so sorry""

Baekhyun runs up and grabs Jongdae's thinking it was Sehun. But when he thinks about it, he was only looking at the . Cause Jongdae is so smol compared to Sehun)

I’m not sure what “seize the ” actually is in Latin; Google gave me a few variations.