7:28 AM the next morning found Kyungsoo standing on the street outside of his apartment complex, ducking into a penguin-patterned scarf that Baekhyun had gifted him and shuffling in place in a poor attempt at generating body heat. Do Kyungsoo was many things— nerdy, quiet, and when the situation called for it, intimidating— but he made a conscious effort to never be tardy. That was why he decided to brave the cold in waiting for Jongin to pick him up on his way to school, not wanting to inconvenience the other boy by forcing him to double-park on the curb while waiting for Kyungsoo’s arrival, though it had been tempting to remain basking in the warmth of his apartment building’s lobby. When a familiar dark blue vehicle appeared in the distance, he wasn’t sure if the sudden blossoming of heat in his stomach was from a gulp of the green tea in his Thermos or his excitement towards seeing Jongin again.

The Tesla Roadster (as Baekhyun had kindly educated him on with an endlessly long rant involving numerous Youtube videos and Wikipedia articles, his tirade only ending when Kyungsoo threatened to run him over with a 2020 Midnight-Blue Triple Electric Motor Death Machine ) slowed to a halt, and Kyungsoo waved at its driver through the window.

“Hey,” he breathed, practically melting into the heated passenger seat. He clutched his backpack to his stomach, procuring a Thermos that matched his own and offering it to Jongin. “I brought you something.”

Jongin accepted the Thermos, lifting the cover curiously before breaking out into a grin. “Hot chocolate! Thanks, Soo… but,” he said sheepishly, “this car doesn’t really have a cup holder.”

Kyungsoo placed the container of hot chocolate back into his backpack, rolling his eyes as Jongin shifted into drive. “For such an expensive car, you would think that it would have ten cup holders at least.”

“It was my mom’s car! I didn’t choose it, okay?”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t like all of the attention you get when you drive around in it.”

Jongin paused at that. “Are you okay with showing up at school with me like this?” He asked, and even with his eyes focused on the road, his sudden nervousness was palpable, filling the small space of the car just as the smoke from Baekhyun’s burned pot of water had seemingly permeated every air molecule in his living room during The Cooking Incident.

Sitting with Jongin during lunch times, during calculus classes, and somehow sharing jokes and micro-conversations with him during passing periods had meant that the entire school knew of their relationship by now. What was the nature of this relationship, exactly? Kyungsoo didn’t quite know himself, but there were numerous, very creative theories floating about. He had been privy to one insinuating that he was a gold digger after Jongin’s inheritance, and another that he was affiliated with a group of notorious gangsters and had been threatening Jongin to spend time with him. Personally, Kyungsoo thought that they had probably been reading too much fanfiction. 

In the past, such attention would have bothered him. But now—

“I’m fine with it,” Kyungsoo replied, resting his hand on top of Jongin’s, which was clutching the gear shifter. “I like spending time with you. I’m used to all of the looks I get, and everyone knows that we hang out together, anyways.”

At a stop light, Kyungsoo felt Jongin’s hand tense beneath his before the other boy turned to look at him. “I’m glad that my friends and I sat at your table that day, even though I know that lunches have been a lot less peaceful for you since.”

“Your fanclub is overbearing, but I like Junmyeon and Luhan. Which reminds me… I wonder what happened to Chanyeol?”

“What,” Jongin pouted, “do you miss his attention or something?” Kyungsoo scowled at that, playfully swatting at the taller boy’s shoulder.

“Definitely not,” he said flatly. “Calculus class has gotten infinitely better now that that elf boy’s become a smartphone addict.”

“I’m glad, because… I may have had something to do with that.” Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows, imploring Jongin to elaborate, but the other boy only responded with a smile. “Try not to think about it too hard, you overachiever. You’ll find out eventually. Probably.”

“You’re the one who called an 86 a failing grade, so I think you’re quite the overachiever yourself,” Kyungsoo retorted. “And I guess if I really wanted to know what’s going on with Chanyeol, I could just ask Sehun.”

“That boy knows everything, and I’m honestly kind of scared that he’s out to kill me,” Jongin  said as he pulled into the school’s parking lot, resting his hand on the back of Kyungsoo’s seat to reverse into a space. Kyungsoo stepped out of the car, slinging his backpack on his shoulder and smoothing down his uniform dress shirt before making his way around to the driver’s side.

“I think that Sehun might have a future career path with the National Intelligence Service, and Baekhyun could be his field agent.”

Jongin chortled as he climbed out of the car, grabbing his backpack from the back seat before beginning to walk towards the school’s main building. Out of the blue, Kyungsoo noticed a familiar boy sitting in the passenger seat of the car parked next to Jongin’s, and waved his hand in greeting. Junmyeon remained mum, regarding Kyungsoo with an expression that looked even more constipated than normal.

“Isn’t that Yifan’s car?” Jongin murmured. “I wonder what what Junmyeon’s doing in there. Junmyeon?” he called, raising the volume of his voice.

Junmyeon slowly rolled down the window, avoiding eye contact by fiddling with the buttons on his navy blue blazer. 

“You and Yifan, huh?”

“No!” Junmyeon protested, “don’t jump to conclusions, we were just working on uh… something for the student council together, and yeah.” Yifan? Doing work? Unlikely. He exchanged a glance with Jongin, who wasn’t even trying to conceal his amusement.

“And what event are you guys planning together?”

“An easter egg hunt?”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah! He’s going to dress up as the easter bunny and I’m going to—uh—”

“ his ? Junmyeon, it's January. And we all know that you’re not the best liar.”

“Okay,” the student council co-president sighed, deflating like one of Kyungsoo’s penguin-shaped birthday balloons that remained tied to his bedpost in the corner of his bedroom. “Yifan and I hang out, sometimes.”

“It looks like there’s more to it than that, though.”

Junmyeon’s eyes spoke of much internal panic, and he immediately attempted to change the topic. “You and Kyungsoo came to school together in your Roadster? Luhan’s been begging to ride in it for so long now, he won’t be happy when he hears about this.”

Jongin shrugged. “Luhan will understand, Kyungsoo’s not just any friend. And,” he grinned, “he makes an excellent cup holder too. Right, Soo?”

Kyungsoo leaned up on his tip toes, gripping Jongin’s firm forearm for balance. “I think I’d prefer being your boyfriend instead,” he whispered, his voice as smooth as ever.

From inside of Yifan’s car, Junmyeon climbed over the center console and made his escape, his interrogator too stricken by Kyungsoo’s words to notice.

It was Kyungsoo’s turn to deflate, be the fact that the giddiness that had built up inside of him like a pressure cooker had clearly affected the coherency of his thought process. Jongin’s arm was tensed in his grip, and Kyungsoo carefully separated himself from the other boy, mumbling a quiet apology. So what if Jongin had flirted with him a little? There was never a promise of their relationship being anything more than that between two friends. He was Jongin’s cup holder, not his potential boyfriend.

“Wait, Kyungsoo,” Jongin flustered, hooking his arm around the small of Kyungsoo’s waist and bringing their bodies together. “I don’t want you to think that I’m just messing with you for fun or something, because I’m not. I don’t know if I’ve made it clear, but I want you to know that I like you.”

Kyungsoo wordlessly reached out to link their fingers together, and he peered up at Jongin, mentally communicating the message that I like you, too .

If the taller boy’s sweet smile was any indication, the transmission was a success.

❅❆❅

It was a few days later on a Wednesday afternoon when Kyungsoo found himself sitting at his regular lunch table, alone for what felt like the first time in forever. Baekhyun wasn’t bantering with anyone who would grace him with a response, Sehun and Luhan weren’t bickering, Junmyeon wasn’t nagging everyone about completing an assignment that had a due date that wouldn’t arrive for weeks , and Jongin wasn’t sitting beside him, their thighs pressed together beneath the table, the younger boy shooting him warm smiles and never ceasing his constant seal-like laughter. Kyungsoo wondered if this was what it’d feel like after he graduated, and a part of him began to dread the graduation ceremony that he had spent the past 14 years of his academic career working towards.

Then there was the matter of not knowing where he would be in a year from now, maybe in university, or working at his family’s restaurant, or halfway across the world. The entirety of the school’s senior class was united by this sentiment, and he was grateful for his friends, both new and old, for sticking through it all with him.

Usually, he and Jongin headed directly from calculus class to the cafeteria together, but the younger boy had been acting a little shifty all period. He mumbled out an indecipherable excuse about dry-cleaning Junmyeon’s locker before dashing off as soon as Ms. Park had dismissed the class, leaving his math notebook behind on his desk in his haste.

Odd, but Kyungsoo had simply placed Jongin’s bright pink notebook into his backpack before walking to the cafeteria on his own.

“Hey Kyungie,” Baekhyun crowed, sliding into a seat across from him and setting a tray of the cafeteria staples— rice, kimchi, bean paste soup, and mackerel— on the table. Sehun sat down on Kyungsoo’s left, immediately pawing at his bento box and popping a piece of chicken karaage into his mouth. “Where’s that boyfriend of yours?”

Kyungsoo let out a snort. “Not my boyfriend, and I don’t know, he’s been acting a little weird today. But,” he said, “It’s nice like this, just the three of us.”

Baekhyun’s face softened, and Sehun leaned his head onto his shoulder affectionately. “I’m going to miss you guys,” Sehun said quietly.

“If none of us end up getting into college then we can all work at my parents’ restaurant together next year,” Kyungsoo offered, trying to dispel the nervousness that had been clinging to him like a sweaty gym shirt all day.

“There’s no way that your mom would hire Sehun and I,” Baekhyun laughed. “Even if we worked as busboys I’m pretty sure that she’d be so nervous that she’d keep the fire department on speed dial. And there’s also no way that you’re not getting into a university.”

“You guys are still coming over after school today, right?” Sehun confirmed. “I picked up two tubs of celebration-slash-consolation ice cream yesterday to prepare.”

Along with being a Wednesday, it was university application decision day, aka Judgement Day, the day when a majority of colleges came back with application outcomes. Kyungsoo had been mentally preparing himself for receiving a long string of rejections for months now, and he, Baekhyun, and Sehun had agreed to open their decision letters together with the hope that camaraderie could ease their collective anxiousness and would provide an outlet for disappointment and elation alike. He had applied almost exclusively to American colleges, as his older brother had, and had lovingly dubbed the day Cryvy Day (in reference to the Ivy League and the tears that would inevitably be shed).

Kyungsoo and Baekhyun both nodded, the latter mumbling out a sarcastic “can’t wait.”

Luhan appeared out of the throngs of students, grasping Junmyeon’s wrist and ushering him towards a seat at their table. Junmyeon’s eyebrows were tightly knit together, and he appeared to be muttering something under his breath. 

“He’s nervous,” Luhan stage whispered (read: announced), “because of university decisions. The past five-hundred-and-three generations of his family went to Seoul National University, so he’s really feeling the pressure.”

“Pretty much everyone in our entire grade is nervous,” Sehun pointed out. “Look at Jongin walking over here, he looks like he’s about to combust.”

“Oh, no,” Luhan smirked knowingly. “That’s a different kind of nervousness altogether.”

Kyungsoo looked up and saw Jongin, his entire body tensed and arms behind his back, gazing directly at him. When he reached the table, he stood in front of Kyungsoo, hesitating and nibbling at his lower lip.

Kyungsoo decided to break the silence first. “You left your notebook in calculus class—”

He was quickly interrupted by a glass tupperware container being shoved into his hands, and after giving it a cursory glance, he looked up at Jongin in confusion.

“Open it!” Baekhyun prompted. Kyungsoo peeled the top of the container off to reveal a dozen messily frosted vanilla cupcakes, adorned with bright pink frosting spelling out “F O R M A L ? ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡”.

“Please go to formal with me, Kyungsoo?” Jongin asked. “Uh, I’m sorry that the frosting kinda melted and I’m a terrible baker so I probably should have bought the cupcakes instead, and I think that I might have put too much salt in the batter so maybe don’t eat them—”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, balancing the container on his lap, a smile blossoming on his face as he reached out to envelop the other boy’s larger hands in his. “I’d love to go with you.”

Luhan and Baekhyun whooped from the sidelines, and even Junmyeon momentarily forgot his panic to regard the scene with a fond smile.

“These cupcakes though,” Sehun said, poking one of the “baked goods.” “How long did you bake them for?”

Jongin snapped out of his blissed stupor of Kyungsoo said yes, Kyungsoo said yes, Kyungsoo said yes, and mulled over the question for a minute. “45 minutes?”

Sehun quirked an eyebrow, deadpanning, “they’re as hard as rocks.”

“hA, tHaT’s wHAt hE—”

“Shut up, Luhan.”

Jongin took the tupperware from Sehun’s hold, covering the top and pushing it to the edge of the table. “Maybe don’t eat them,” he mumbled. He looked up at Baekhyun, accusing, “I knew I shouldn’t have tried baking on my own.”

Baekhyun raised his arms up in surrender. “It worked, didn’t it?” He supplied, and Jongin’s expression immediately softened as he turned his attention back towards Kyungsoo, seeming relieved and oh so pleased.

“It’s the effort that counts,” Sehun agreed. 

“Still, I didn’t think it was possible, but you might be even worse at cooking than Sehun and I are.”

“Doubtful. Did he burn his kitchen down, too?”

“Last I remembered, you were the one who flipped all of those pancakes onto the ceiling.”

“Maybe I just have superior arm muscles.”

“For ’s sake, playing Mario Kart is not the same as working out!”

As Baekhyun and Sehun continued their squabble over who was the best Masterchef, thankfully not by trying to cook this time, Kyungsoo leaned against Jongin, wrapped up in a bubble of content. He had a date to formal, the boy that he liked liked him back, and his friends were too occupied with their petty arguments to monopolize Kyungsoo’s handmade lunch. He placed a portion of his chicken karaage onto Jongin’s plate, reveling in the dazzling smile that was returned his way.

“Jongin?” He said, the side of his face pressed to the starched fabric of the taller boy’s blazer. He felt, more than heard, Jongin’s chest rumble out a hum of acknowledgement. “Thanks for making my Cryvy Day a whole lot better.”

❅❆❅

“Holy fU-” Baekhyun shrieked, reflexively tossing one of Jongin’s cupcakes out of Sehun’s bedroom window. “I think that one bite of that poison shaved a year off of my lifespan.”

Sehun began tossing about in laughter on his bed, and Kyungsoo was too amused to feel apologetic for making Baekhyun the group’s guinea pig. In the end, he had managed to convince Jongin to let him take the cupcakes home, and Baekhyun had lost the rock-paper-scissors game between the three of them, which now led to him gagging and washing his mouth out in the bathroom sink.

“Even if his baking is vile, I have a date to prom now,” Kyungsoo couldn’t help but gloat. Sehun let out a groan, probably thinking of the fact that he was too chicken to ask the subject of his infatuation to go with him.

“But Baekhyun has a date,” Sehun revealed, and Kyungsoo sat up in surprise.

“What?” He focused his glare towards the brunette who had just stumbled out of Sehun’s en suite bathroom and collapsed into a puddle on the floor next to him. “Who? When?”

Baekhyun lifted his head a little, his cheek still pressed against the hardwood floor. “Oh look at the time, Harvard application decisions are out!”

“My rejection letter can wait,” Kyungsoo retorted. “First, does anyone want to enlighten me on the recent developments of Byun Baekhyun’s love life?”

With much difficulty, Baekhyun pulled himself up into a sitting position, pinning him with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Okay, I’ve actually been meaning to tell you this for a while.”

“Don’t mind me,” Sehun said, bouncing off of his bed and heading towards the door. “I’ll go get some popcorn and ice cream.” As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Baekhyun took a deep breath and began to fess up.

“So, you know the boy who you sit next to in calculus class?”

“Who, elf boy? How could I forget? Luckily, he doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Yeah, I think that I might have something to do with that.” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Jongin said that he had a hand in it, too?”

“He introduced the two of us, and Chanyeol and I have been texting for a while now. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to like him, and at first I really didn’t— the boy’s been tormenting you for the better part of the school year— so all I did was chew him out, with some pretty creative expletives, too. But then, he asked me out to formal.”

Kyungsoo paused to absorb the influx of information, and Baekhyun shifted nervously in place.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“I didn’t reply to him yet.”

“But you want to say yes.”

The lack of response was all the confirmation that Kyungsoo needed.

“I know that he was a massive creep to you, and I still think that the boy is bat crazy a lot of the time. But I can’t deny that a part of me does want to go with him. You wouldn’t mind?”

Despite the happy go lucky demeanour that Baekhyun usually put on, Kyungsoo and Sehun knew how sensitive he could be to others’ feelings and to his own. And even though Kyungsoo was most definitely not one of Chanyeol’s biggest fans, as long as Chanyeol was Baekhyun’s number one fan, he could probably learn to tolerate him.

“It’s not like you two are getting married,” Kyungsoo said. “It’s a school dance. And this is going to sound really cliché, but I always want what’s best for you.”

Baekhyun let out a relieved laugh, slumping against Kyungsoo’s side “No wonder why I call you my mom. Does that mean that you think that Chanyeol’s best for me?”

Privately, Kyungsoo thought that Baekhyun could do better, but it wasn’t as if he knew much about the gangly boy. He knew that he was the c0-captain of the basketball team, which meant that he was athletic and disciplined, and he was in the school choir, too. Of course, he was hot-headed and didn’t know how to take a hint, but now that he thought about it— he and Baekhyun would make a terrible, positively devilish duo.

Kyungsoo settled for a non-commital shrug, a grin tugging at the corner of his full lips. “I can’t say that he’s the best , but I’m sure that Sehun will agree to keep close watch on him with me. And you didn’t go through a decade of hapkido training for nothing— remind me to bring a sharp mechanical pencil along to the dance though, just in case.”

“Thanks, Kyungie.”

He and Baekhyun had been freshmen when they had met on the first day of high school. Baekhyun had deceived Kyungsoo with his seemingly angelic looks and quiet demeanor, until one day the older boy had decided yeah, we’re best friends now , unleashing a torrent of terrible jokes and incessant laughter, roping Kyungsoo into joining in with his antics. (Evidently, the Masterchef competition was Baekhyun’s idea.) They had met Sehun not much later during a school project, and meeting him was perhaps the best thing that came out of that god awful geography class all year.

And now here they were, on the cusp of adulthood, with dates to the school dance and university decisions available just a few clicks away. Sehun’s daddy-long legs were draped over his and Baekhyun was pressed against his side, the three of them huddled on Sehun’s tiny twin bed, messily spilling popcorn all over the baby blue polka-dotted sheets.

“Application status update from Seoul University,” Sehun mumbled, his pupils darting nervously across the screen of his laptop.

“I’m ready for Yonsei University’s fat rejecc,” Baekhyun said, burying his face into Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Kyungsoo refreshed his email, immediately receiving an influx of messages notifying him that ‘there was an update to your application status.’

His mouse hovered over the ‘view your application decision’ button on his screen, and he felt his heart thrumming in his chest.

The three of them had sacrificed countless meet-ups and paused their usual cinema-and-arcade Saturdays in response to the immense academic pressure of their senior year, all for admission to university. He was sure that Sehun’s mother was waiting outside of the door, his parents anxiously at their phones, and Kyungsoo desperately hoped that they would all be able to share good news.

Regardless of the outcome, of what a bunch of people in a secret meeting room thought of his test scores, his financial status, his essays, his brief stint on the swim team— “let’s watch that drama that Baekhyun’s been going on about after this?”

The two other boys brightened at that, Baekhyun quickly nodding in agreement.

“On three…”

Dear Mr. Kyungsoo Do,

Baekhyun shrieked, Sehun squealed, and the Oh family dog/pig/animate cloud, Vivi, began howling at the ceiling. Kyungsoo’s heart only thudded harder.

I am sorry to inform you that we are unable to admit you to Harvard University this year.

Deep breath in, then out. Onto the next university.

Dear Kyungsoo,

On behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is my pleasure to offer you admission...

And then, just maybe, Kyungsoo started screaming too.

From: Jongin

harvard application decisions came out!!

did you get accepted??

Nope :(

oh 

Sorry soo :’(

I’m really okay! Hope application decisions went well for you :)

- sent wednesday 7:15PM-

❅❆❅

“Now I can actually understand where the superstition that pets have similar personalities to their owners comes from,” Jongin laughed, clutching a baby blue leash in one hand and a black leash in the other. At his feet, three toy poodles yipped at each other as they zig-zagged across the street, tangling their leashes around their owner’s legs.

Kyungsoo curled his fingers into the sleeves of his thick white sweater and turned to throw Jongin an amused look. “Why? Because you’re just as hyperactive as Monggu is?”

“That and the fact that Meokmul and Huchu are so well behaved.”

Kyungsoo cast a dubious glance at the tangle that the three dogs had worked themselves into. “I think that Monggu is a bad influence.”

Jongin let out a hum of agreement, playfully bumping his shoulder against Kyungsoo’s. “You’re just a better daddy than I am,” he teased, and Kyungsoo swatted a sweater paw at his head in retaliation.

“Do we need to have a serious conversation about this?”

“About what?” Jongin faced Kyungsoo, confused, until he caught the mischievous twinkle in the other boy’s eye. “Oh my god,” he flushed, immediately breaking eye contact. “I’m not into that stuff, I promise! I still call my dad that!”

Kyungsoo’s only response was to burst into laughter, Huchu regarding him with very judgy eyes from where she sat primly by Kyungsoo’s sneakers.

The pair had been making their way to the night market near their high school for the past half hour, the fading rays of the sun blanketing the city with a dream-like glow. 

While Jongin had previously spoke of his love for dogs, through texting, Kyungsoo had quickly found out that Jongin was the definition of a dog lover, what with the hundreds of photos of his fluffy “children” that he spammed Kyungsoo’s phone with and the hour-long tirades he could go on talking about them. He only found it hopelessly endearing, even though he loved to to Sehun about his overwhelming, everlasting, undying love for Vivi. (“And Vivi’s so smart—” “He can’t even sit still for one second without you bribing him with rib eye steak, Sehun. And even then...”)

Jongin had originally meant to bring all three of his dogs along on their date(!), but apparently he didn’t trust his other two more rambunctious pets to behave. Still, Monggu’s behaviour as the supposed “quiet one” served as quite the culture shock to Kyungsoo’s two dogs.

As they were enveloped by the thrumming energy of the night market, the alluring scent of street food lured the two boys to excitedly dart towards the nearest vendors, drooling over the steaming spicy rice cakes and the bubbling fish cake broth that sent wisps of steam up into the darkening sky. 

“Fish cakes?” Kyungsoo suggested, and Jongin nodded rapidly in response.

Soon they found themselves perched on a small bench, balancing an array of snacks between them. Kyungsoo clutched two tornado potatoes in one hand and two hot dogs in the other, letting out a hum of thanks when Jongin took his two leashes and looped them loosely around the bench’s armrest.

“Maybe we went a little overboard,” Kyungsoo laughed as Jongin’s arm shot out to stop a styrofoam container of ddeokbokki from teetering towards the ground (and into the dogs’ waiting jaws).

“Nah, I think you underestimate me,” Jongin said, taking an inhumanly large bite out of his hot dog as if to prove his point.

Kyungsoo opted to roll his eyes, playfully muttering that it was “always the ones who are useless in the kitchen who eat the most.”

“Hey,” Jongin protested indignantly, “I’m trying to improve! I made rice without burning it yesterday!”

“How revolutionary, Masterchef of mine.”

The next few minutes were spent in comfortable silence, punctuated only by quiet munching (which Kyungsoo was unbelievably thankful for, Baekhyun’s loud chomping having driven him to near insanity over the past few years). He was just polishing off the last bite of his squid kimbap when Jongin’s voice suddenly rang out into the open.

“Kyungsoo? Have you ever had a boyfriend before?”

He felt his eyes widen as he processed the question. “No,” he said quietly. Then, “have you?”

Despite being known by the student body as a perpetual “single king” (Baekhyun’s words, not his), maybe Jongin had had a secret relationship sometime in the past. Like the kind of playground relationship that Kyungsoo had adamantly avoided back in elementary school, or maybe a fellow dancer at Jongin’s dance academy, like the Taemin guy that was all over his instagram account. (And okay, maybe Kyungsoo only knew about him because he had cyber-stalked Jongin for hours one night and forgot to finish his homework for the first time in forever.)

“Me neither.”

“...girlfriends?”

“Nope, I knew pretty much from the start that girls weren’t for me. And honestly, I’ve always thought of dating in high school as being too frivolous, and I hated watching how some people would tell a different person that they loved them every week. I just wanted to wait for someone who I’d really want to spend my forever with, you know?” Jongin’s passionate stare was practically boring into Kyungsoo’s soul, and the older boy worried at his lower lip as he contemplated whether his next move would be pushing things too far. But Jongin had asked him to formal, hadn’t he? That had to mean that he liked Kyungsoo enough to want his company, and hopefully liked him enough to at least let him down gently.

“Was that too much?” Jongin asked, apprehensive.

Screw it, Kyungsoo thought. 

“I want us to last,” Kyungsoo said, lacing the other boy’s greasy fingers with his and tilting their heads closer together. “I like you, Jongin. I can’t promise to always be the perfect boyfriend, but I can promise that I’ll never stop trying.”

Jongin let out a content sigh, shifting to rest his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. His hold on Kyungsoo’s fingers tightened, and Kyungsoo felt his heart rate accelerate.

“I like you too, perfect boyfriend of mine.”

They remained in that position for a while, content to bask in the glow of the street lights and the warmth of each other. Kyungsoo couldn’t believe that this was happening, and only the gentle thump of Jongin’s heartbeat and the fluttering of his breath against his neck made him believe that this all was anything more than a figment of his imagination.

Their little bubble of warm fish broth and the giddiness of new love was shattered when Monggu suddenly perked up from where he was resting beneath their bench, lunging forward to furiously yip at a tiny black toy poodle passing by.

“Monggu! No!” Jongin shouted, immediately leaping up to collect his child. “I am so so sorry,” he said, scooping the brown pooch up to hold him to his chest. “He—oh!”

Kyungsoo gave Meokmul and Huchu gentle pats on their heads, praising them under his breath for being so well behaved, before standing to make his way over to Jongin. “Hey Baekhyun,” he greeted.

Said boy’s arm was linked with tall elf boy’s, his other hand gripping his corgi’s leash. Luckily, it appeared that Jongin wouldn’t be facing a legal battle over his dog’s misbehaviour anytime soon, as Chanyeol reached down to lift the black poodle into his arms, who immediately flailed his way out of his owner’s grip. Mongryong excitedly bounced around Kyungsoo’s legs, probably recognizing his familiar scent, completely ignorant of his owner’s sudden nervousness. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“So, I see that you’re very busy at home working on your physics lab ,” Kyungsoo lilted. “Wait until Sehun hears the real reason that you bailed on him.”

“Well it’s not my fault—”

“You kind of have to take responsibility, you know.”

“I told him to use protection, it’s that brat who didn’t listen,” Baekhyun huffed.

Beside him, Chanyeol’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Baekhyun, is there something that you’re not telling me?”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “What?”

“Did you get Sehun pregnant?”

Kyungsoo and Jongin doubled over in laughter, while Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol as if he had suddenly grown 10-foot antlers and was preaching about the joys of window-washing to a congregation of banana slugs. “What the , no, did you ever take health class?? Life isn’t an mpreg fanfiction! No equals no baby, and Sehun is my best friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Chanyeol began to look sheepish, and Kyungsoo decided to step in and put him out of his misery.

“Baekhyun got Sehun hooked onto this drama, and he’s been watching it from some sketchy sites, so Baek recommended a few adblockers for him to use which he was too lazy to install. He texted us this morning panicking about pop-up ads that wouldn’t go away enticing him to ‘hook up with hot grandmas near you’ and freaked, and since Baekhyun had experience with solving the issue Sehun asked him for help. But he claimed that he had physics homework to do and couldn’t make it, and here we are.”

“I’ll make it up to him,” Baekhyun sighed, “a week of free bubble tea should do it. And I may have ditched him for my date, but you did the same thing too, you hypocrite!”

“I’ve never had the experience purging my laptop of viruses, and he asked for your help,” Kyungsoo argued.

Baekhyun only playfully rolled his eyes in return, conceding the point. “I’ll let you get back to fawning over Jongin, then.” The two turned to watch Chanyeol and Jongin kneeling on the floor, the dogs all barking and wagging their tails playfully. When had his date turned into a pet sitting service? Kyungsoo jabbed Baekhyun in the side before turning to discard the various wrappers and containers left on the bench into the nearby trashbin.

By the time that he had returned, Chanyeol had stood up, holding his poodle’s leash in one hand and Mongryong’s in the other. He waved at the couple as they began to make their way down the street, before Baekhyun suddenly paused in his tracks and turned back around.

“Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah?”

“Let me borrow your physics notes tomorrow, okay?”

Without waiting for Kyungsoo’s reply, he beamed and linked his arm with Chanyeol’s, sparing Kyungsoo a quick wink before briskly trotting away. The pair was quickly enveloped into the bustling crowd (though if Kyungsoo squinted, he could still pinpoint Chanyeol’s head and pointy ears above them all).

God , Baekhyun so owed him one.

Beside him, Jongin gently nudged him with his elbow. “Never a dull moment with your friends around,” he murmured, “but I still prefer just being with you.”

❅❆❅

So maybe Kyungsoo was abnormal in the fact that he liked math class, but according to his friends, he was also a “malfunctioning stubby penguin” for despising physical education, aka PE aka Kyungsoo’s greatest nightmare. He hated the feeling of sweat on his skin, the way that his dirtied clothes clung to his body and how he seemed to overheat so easily, turning his face into a bright red tomato after a few laps around the gym. They had just finished a month of classes focus on cross country that had culminated in a 5 kilometer run around the school premises, which had made Kyungsoo wish that he had stayed home “sick” instead of having to go through such ardous torture.

Today’s main event was a game of capture the flag, which always quickly devolved into a free-for-all during which Kyungsoo just desperately tried to hide away from the world while his friends enthusiastically wreaked havoc. Even worse, this time his friends were all assigned to the opposing team, leaving Kyungsoo all on his own. Thankfully his team won the preliminary game of rock paper scissors, which meant that the other team had to put on colored training bibs to differentiate the two sets of players— training bibs that had been accumulating sweat and festering in the storage cabinet without having been washed for the last decade. He caught Sehun and Baekhyun sharing a disgusted grimace while putting them on on the other side of the field, and he felt an amused grin play out over his face.

The whistle signaling the start of the game was blown, and he was surveying the battle ground to determine the safest area to make his “home base” when suddenly Yifan and Chanyeol, the two twin towers— known for being the co-captains of the basketball team— sidled up to him. Kyungsoo regarded them warily, watching as Yifan not-so-subtley nudged Chanyeol’s side, prompting the elf boy to reluctantly step in front of him.

“I wanted to apologize,” Chanyeol blurted out, “for being such a pushy rude creature to you before. And for misleading you, because I kinda didn’t like you to begin with?”

Wow, information overload. “Okay?” Kyungsoo articulated very sophisticatedly.

“I liked Baekhyun but I had no classes with him so I had to resort to desperate measures to get his attention, and you were just sitting next to me in calculus class that day and I knew you were apart of the his smart people squad so I just thought that maybe if I went after you he would notice me and then, uh,” Chanyeol trailed off, before literally face palming. As in physically bringing his palm up to smack his own face. Kyungsoo had never seen someone do that in real life before, but you learn something new every day?

“It was a stupid plan,” Yifan quipped from the side, and Chanyeol mockingly scowled back at him.

“But, yeah,” he puttered awkwardly, “thank you for putting up with me, I’m really sorry, and I promised that I will never call you Soobabe again.”

The mere mention of the name had Kyungsoo’s face involuntarily wrinkle in disgust, but he quickly recollected himself. “Duly noted, I appreciate it.”

Chanyeol opened his mouth, but before he could make a sound he was bowled over by someone wearing a red sports bib who had a blue flag gripped firmly in their hands, cackling maniacally while they sprinted towards the opposite side of the playing field.

“Why, Luhan?” Chanyeol moaned from where he was splayed out on the floor, and Yifan’s only response was to begin to cackle. “You could have easily avoided me, you speedy evil human deer!”

The whistle was blown to signal the opposing team’s victory, and Luhan pranced towards them, a smug grin plastered on his face while he waved towards his imaginary fans in the stands. “You were in between me and the goal, and sacrifices must be made to secure victory,” he projected dramatically, a tearful expression on his face as he looked off into the distance.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to have a conversation in the middle of a dodgeball game,” Yifan mused, to which Kyungsoo vehemently agreed. While Chanyeol and Luhan were arranging their rematch, arguing over which version of Mario Party would be played to determine the Ultimate Champion of Manly Beasts, he waved at Yifan before heading towards the locker room.

PE Class- January 31st

Reviewer: Do Kyungsoo

★★★★★

• Managed to avoid sweating for the entire gym period— dry fit polo remained completely dry
• Didn’t have to run— feigned headache during warmups
• Didn’t have to wear sweaty sports bibs
• Made new friends (?)

❅❆❅

A few nights later, Kyungsoo was working on an English paper at his desk— this time a lovely review on his favorite anime series, Prince of Tennis — when his phone suddenly rang from where it sat on his bedside table. He was entirely immersed into describing the emotional impact of the series’ characterization (no, he hadn’t cried, dammit) and offhandedly decided to mentally block out the incessant ringing in favor of finishing out his trail of thought. It was probably just Sehun or Baekhyun wanting to rant about their sort-of-boyfriends or panicking over their homework assignments, anyways, and Kyungsoo thought that he should probably be thankful that they were calling at a more civilized hour of the day this time around.

As soon as he finished the paragraph, he scooted on his spinny desk chair across the room to check his notifications. Missed video call from Jongin?

Before he even knew what he was doing, he had pressed the “return call” button, and a few seconds later, Jongin’s face was filling up the tiny screen of his old Samsung Galaxy. The younger boy was wearing an adorable mocha brown hoodie with tiny bear ears sewed on top, sporting a tentative smile.

“Hi Kyungsoo,” he said, “I hope I’m not interrupting you?”

Suddenly conscious of his appearance, Kyungsoo reached up to run his hand through his hair and pushed the frame of his black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Nope, I was just doing some homework. Sorry you have to see me like this,” he laughed nervously.

Jongin giggled at that, poking at Kyungsoo’s face through the screen. “You’re always cute, Soo.”

No, I’m 110% certain that I look like after slaving away on assignments for the past few hours, Kyungsoo wanted to reply, and he wondered if Jongin was lying through his teeth, or—

Kyungsoo squinted. “You aren’t wearing your contacts, are you?”

Jongin puffed his chest out proudly at that, proclaiming, “of course I am! My vision is very clear, thank you very much, but the crappy quality of your camera isn’t doing you justice.”

“Says the cute boy in the fuzzy bear hoodie,” Kyungsoo mumbled, immediately hoping that his microphone was as terrible as his camera was and that it had failed to pick up his embarrassing words. To no avail, it seemed, when he heard Jongin’s laugh echo back through his phone.

“What homework were you working on? I spent two hours finishing off that god awful calculus worksheet… when am I ever going to need to know how to calculate the volume of a parallelepiped anyways?”

Oh. Maybe Jongin wanted help with his homework? Or maybe wanted to schedule a study date? There was a quiz coming up in a few days.

“Is that why you called? I can send you a copy of my notes if you’d like, or we can meet up at the café after school tomorrow?”

Jongin’s lips parted to form a surprised o. “Uh, no. I actually have to tell you something.” Kyungsoo heard Jongin release a long breath before he began to speak again. 

“I have to go to this charity gala with my family,” he rushed out. Nothing out of the ordinary, Kyungsoo thought, though he privately wouldn’t mind seeing Jongin all dressed up for such a fancy event, helping him smooth out his lapels and looping a delicate silk tie into a perfect windsor knot against the base of his neck—

“I can’t go to formal.” 

Kyungsoo felt himself freeze in place as Jongin frantically continued, “it’s not that I don’t want to go with you or something because god I do, but parents just told me about that event that they’re making me attend and it’s scheduled for the same night as the school dance.” 

Kyungsoo inhaled deeply and pulled himself together, reminding himself that it was just a stupid school dance and that he didn’t want to watch his friends grind on each other or get wasted, anyways. Even though he’d been looking forward to the event ever since Jongin had baked him those equal part vile and amazing cupcakes of his, planting all sorts of imaginary scenarios and promises in Kyungsoo’s mind. “I probably should have thought this through better,” he heard Jongin say, rather sullenly, “but I called you as soon as I found out, so that maybe…”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe you would have enough time to ask someone to go with you.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t help but to giggle at that. “What, you’d be okay with your boyfriend slow dancing with someone else?”

The crease between Jongin’s eyebrows only deepened. “I meant as a friend!” He protested, fidgeting with the aglet of his hoodie string.

The pair grew silent as Kyungsoo quietly contemplated his life choices. Luhan and Sehun would be going together, as would Baekhyun and Chanyeol, and Junmyeon and Easter-bunny-Yifan. And that left Kyungsoo, The Seventh Wheel ™ .

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin suddenly piped up. “You can say no,” he prefaced, “don’t feel obligated or anything, but you could come to the gala with me? It’s supposed to end at nine, so we can go to formal after, and we can probably leave early from the event if you want to.”

“Me?” Kyungsoo blanched, “go to your fancy company gala?” Jongin only nodded back at him, expression serious and his tiny bear ears flopping back and forward with his movement.

All the strangers and the fragile crystalline glasses of champagne with long boring speeches by chairmen, fake smiles and giant chandeliers practically screaming opulence— Kyungsoo knew that he didn’t belong in that world, and the mere thought of stepping foot in such a foreign environment made him shudder in his seat. But Jongin would be there. Maybe that would be enough.

“I’ll think about it,” he eventually replied, because part of him didn’t want to be so scared anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin’s voice reverberated through the phone. “For ruining formal and for being selfish and for interrupting your study session.”

“Don’t be,” was all Kyungsoo could say, “my analysis on The Prince of Tennis can wait.” And then, impulsively: “what should I wear to the gala?”

Jongin’s tinkling laughter seemed to surround him, enveloping him with the familiarity of his worn comforter and sounding a whole lot like his new favorite song. “Anything you’d like, Soo. I trust you.”

❅❆❅

“Remind me to NEVER trust you again,” Baekhyun hissed out, digging through the clothes in his closet like a deranged werewolf, articles of clothing that hadn’t fit Kyungsoo in years being flung all over his room. Huchu was staring at him with her trademark judgy-eyes, and Sehun was splayed out unhelpfully like a lanky starfish on Kyungsoo’s Pororo comforter.

“What?” Kyungsoo pouted, giving himself a quick once over. The three of them had congregated at his house after school to “get ready for formal,” which had made absolutely zero sense to him when the event was still more than a week away. But there he was, dressed in his older brother’s suit that he had dug out of the back of his parents’ closet. The suit maybe wasn’t the most fashionable— it had been around five years since it had last been used— and maybe it hurt that Seungsoo was a few inches taller than him, but Kyungsoo thought that the classic, clean black suit looked—

“Ugly and boring,” Baekhyun enunciated, shaking his head in disgust. “There is no WAY that you are going to formal, let alone the gala, with that on.” Kyungsoo looked towards Sehun for support, but the traitor only nodded in agreement as he took a sip out of his cup of apple cider. “And it’s not like anything in your closet looks remotely formal enough.

“It’s only four thirty,” Sehun mumbled, his voice distorted from the way that his face was smushed into Pororo’s beak. “There are some pretty nice shops in Myeongdong, wanna go?”

Baekhyun paused amidst his scavenging, three pairs of trousers in varying shades of grey slung on each arm, before quickly reversing his course of action and beginning to shove clothes randomly back into Kyungsoo’s drawers. Kyungsoo winced when he saw his collection of khakis (there was a sale, okay,) being shoved into his school uniform drawer.

“I’m in!” Baekhyun chirped. “I’ve been meaning to look for a new tie, and we can all go shopping together.”

“And get bubble tea and dinner,” Sehun added, doing a full body wiggle that made him look like a possessed pasta noodle as he slid off of Kyungsoo’s twin-sized bed. “Come on, Kyungsoo! I’m sure that your parents will let you come.”

Kyungsoo soon found himself bundled into his penguin scarf, his mom’s credit card in one pocket of his winter jacket and his phone in the other, sandwiched between his two best friends as Sehun and Baekhyun began to window shop in earnest.

The trio had just entered a rather fancy looking boutique— the kind with sales associates whose judgy eyes could give Huchu a run for her money and faux marble tiles lining the floor— when a familiar figure perusing a display of colorful silk ties caught Kyungsoo’s attention. “Junmyeon?” He called out, and said boy looked up in surprise, his features softening into a smile in recognition.

“Hi Kyungsoo, Sehun, Baekhyun,” he greeted, struggling to juggle the numerous suit jackets and pairs of slacks in his arms while waving hello. Kyungsoo reached out to take a few articles from his hold, earning a thank you as Baekhyun and Sehun roped poor Junmyeon into an argument over whether the shade of a particular suit jacket was closer to midnight or royal blue.

Upon closer inspection, holy , it looked like Junmyeon had picked out articles of clothing by Gucci, Dior, and Givenchy… was he getting ready to grind against Yifan on a dirty dance floor full of intoxicated teenagers or was he carefully assembling a wardrobe for a fashion cruise in Arles?

Baekhyun seemed to pick up on the same details, his eyes zeroing into the labels on the garments in Junmyeon’s arms. “You’re wearing Saint Laurent to the school dance? And Kyungsoo thought it was unreasonable to, and I quote, splurge , on a suit from H&M,” he scoffed.

“He’s right though,” came Sehun, as impassive as ever. “If you’re handsome enough you don’t need an expensive outfit to look good.” He broke into a grin at Baekhyun’s mortified expression, giving a giggling Kyungsoo a high five.

Junmyeon just worriedly glanced at Baekhyun (who was probably planning Sehun’s funeral in his head), then cleared his throat awkwardly before clarifying, “this suit isn’t actually for the school dance. Well I guess it sort of is, but it’s also for the gala, which is the only reason why such an expensive suit is ever needed,” he amended, a tiny grin forming on his face. “I’m not a huge fan of designer clothing myself.”

“The same gala that Jongin’s going to? On the night of formal?” Baekhyun asked demanded, forcing himself into Junmyeon’s personal space. The (very very slightly) shorter boy blinked up at him in confusion, breathing out a quiet yes ?

“It’s my family’s gala,” Junmyeon admitted, “and Jongin’s family is attending.”

“So am I,” Kyungsoo squeaked out, and Junmyeon regarded him in pleasant surprise.

“An H&M suit won’t do then,” he laughed, “especially if you’re hanging off of Jongin’s arm. His family is… pretty well known, so their guests will probably be scrutinized pretty heavily.”

Baekhyun snickered out something along the lines of I told you so , and Kyungsoo could feel the cogs in his mind spinning as he tried to figure out where he could get a designer suit for a price that wouldn’t eat into his life savings. Goodwill? Or maybe he could get Baekhyun to stalk out a celebrity designer’s house and rummage through the garbage for discarded clothes.

“I would let you borrow one of my suits,” Jumyeon said, interrupting his mental image of Baekhyun covered in rotting caviar, “but I can think of something even better. You deserve something that’s made for you. Yifan’s cousin is a designer, and I’m sure that he’d be happy to help you out.”

Before Kyungsoo could even earnestly reply with a thank you , Sehun was curiously asking, “why do you need all of those designer suits then?”

Junmyeon flushed to his roots, awkwardly shifting in place before rushing out, “they’re not for methey’reforYifan.”

The three boys exchanged a glance, unsurprised. “Might as well stop denying that you and Yifan are a thing now,” Baekhyun said happily.

“Yifan’s not wearing his cousin’s designs?”

Junmyeon chose to ignore Baekhyun’s comment, instead replying to Sehun, “he and Zitao have this little petty argument going on. I think Yifan once chose to wear an ensemble from Givenchy instead of one of Zitao’s creations and he’s been banned from wearing his new pieces for a few months now.”

“Are you sure that his cousin would be okay with letting me borrow something? I don’t mind if it’s from last season or something, or from a few years ago, for that matter,” Kyungsoo said, only to be met with Junmyeon’s raised eyebrows.

“I’m sure he would be happy to,” he said kindly, “especially when he sees how great you’ll make his designs look.” Kyungsoo tried to suppress his blush at that comment, but he looked up from his sneakers when the tone of Junmyeon’s voice suddenly grew much heavier. “But Kyungsoo, I meant it when I said that people will be scrutinizing you. I don’t mean to scare you off, and I’m sure that it means the world to Jongin that you’re willing to attend the gala with him, but the truth is that the event will probably be rather… boring, unless you’re the type of person who enjoys shallow small talk, which I know you aren’t. Even growing up going to one of these events every month, talking to business people with rather sordid intentions is still rather unpleasant, and this gala is one of the biggest events of the year. Just dress up nicely and stick to us, and you should be fine.”

“Thanks, Junmyeon. I’m really glad that you’re going to be there.”

“Don’t thank me,” Junmyeon grinned, “you’ll find anywhere fun when Jongin’s around, I’m sure.”

“Is that the same reason that you’re going to the gala with Yifan?”

“Yes— we’re not— I mean, okay fine, we’re together.” Despite his reluctance, Junmyeon’s face was still painted with a satisfied grin.

“Chanyeol owes me a pork cutlet,” Baekhyun sing-songed, “I knew you couldn’t keep your paws off of each other during those oh-so-secret student council meetings.” Sehun patted Junmyeon’s shoulder consolingly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Speaking of food, want to eat dinner with us? There's a pretty nice hot pot place around the corner.”

“And bubble tea after,” Sehun whined, and Kyungsoo laughed, linking his arm with the taller boy’s.

“I think the store’s security guards are giving us the stink eye— let’s get out of here.”