A yawn forced itself from Sehun's lips as he sat uneasily at the table, breakfast foods were spread in front of him as his mother focused on the food she was cooking at the stove and his father was scribbling down on papers for work. The pain in his side had eased a little, but sitting up at the table had come with a cost, but that still wasn't as bad as the constant harassment of Zitao. When Sehun had tried to climb out of bed, Zitao had jumped to his side and tried to get him to stop. The act of getting dressed came with Zitao asking if he could help and having to kick him out of the room. He'd even tried to force Sehun back into bed; but Sehun had classes and he didn't want to miss them. 

"Sehun?"

The sound of his name made Sehun turn his head to see food, and Zitao holding it out to him. Fourth time. The fourth time Zitao tried to feed him. Sehun snapped his hand onto Tao's wrist and tugged his hand down onto the table. A slight noise came from the connection to the table.

Sehun leaned closer and hissed in Zitao's ear. "Stop it."

If Sehun could say his temperament was usually mellow, Zitao seemed to have an ability to rub him the wrong way. It wasn't like his arms were broken, or he was incapacitated. 

"What are you two boys doing?" Sehun's mothers voice cut through.

"We were just talking," Sehun gave a response, as Zitao yanked his arm from Sehun's grip.

A look was shot at Zitao who had a look Sehun couldn't read. Was he angry? Or upset? The Chinese boy was soon on his feet and Sehun watched his back as he left. 

"What did you do, Sehun?" 

"I didn't do anything. Why is it always me? You even take Luhan-hyung's side when he does it first!" Sehun protested his innocence to the look his mother was giving him. "I swear. I didn't do anything!"

Sehun lowered his head. He had done nothing. Zitao was the one who was making a fuss over nothing. Pain caused Sehun to grab at his side again and bring his chopsticks down to the food. A breath shakily exhaled before he brought another piece to his mouth. Just because Tao was going to have a tantrum and not eat, didn't mean Sehun had to.

- - -

Why did Sehun have to whisper in his ear? Zitao rubbed his ear to remove the memory of Sehun whispering into it and shook his head as he stood in the doorway of Sehun's bedroom; the room they shared. The dark haired male then tried to wipe away the feeling that remained around his wrist. Was it paranoia to think Sehun knew? Tao shook his head again. There was no way Sehun could have known about the dream he had. It was hard enough to wake up in the morning in the state of arousal, with the perpetrator in the dream, two steps from him. But still, the worst part was how much effort he'd been using to make sure nothing like it would happen.

He needed to find something about Sehun that he didn't like. That he hated. That made Sehun unattractive.

An agitated sigh came from Zitao's lips. Why did this mission seem hard? Everything he'd been using to dislike Sehun was slowly diminishing. Sehun's amusement at other peoples suffering had slowly become less useful; mostly because amusement meant laughter and smiling -- a frontal attack on Zitao's defenses that were slowly weakening under the constant strain. Sehun's ability to get annoyed at more than half of what Zitao did, was quickly becoming more of an unexpected assassination of Zitao's subconscious walls. 

Zitao didn't like the feeling that came when he liked someone. Nothing made him feel weaker than knowing someone could affect his entirety with no effort. He needed to fight this.

It just would have been easier if he didn't feel the cold sharpness of guilt every time he saw Sehun cringe in pain or breathe unevenly. The other wouldn't even stay in bed and was intent on going to school. That left Tao feeling obligated. He'd hurt Sehun, and no matter his own problems, he had to look after the other until he was fully healed. He had to ease the others suffering in anyway he could. 

"Zitao," Sehun's voice made Tao jump a little. He'd been deep in thought. "We need to go."

Zitao paused as he interpreted the Korean and then nodded his head. When Sehun brushed past him, Tao flinched and stepped away. He could help Sehun, from a slight distance.

- - -

As Sehun climbed onto the bus, he kept one hand at his side, and Zitao held both his hands out behind the other, scared he would fall on the steps or on his way the seat. The Chinese student straightened out the two backpacks he had; one strap over each shoulder. Sehun had argued for five seconds, cringed and gave in. That made Zitao feel worse. Sehun was still in pain, and he couldn't apologize anymore. This was made clear when Sehun threw a tiny figurine at him when he tried help Sehun change and hit his ribs, and then was told to leave.

When the two boys came to finding a seat, they found the bus had no seats and Tao heard Sehun make a noise. They could ask someone to move, that's what he thought Sehun would do, but instead he moved a couple steps further into the bus and stopped. 

"Sit?" Zitao used simple Korean; the less words he used, the less mistakes he could make.

Sehun shook his head and looked around. He didn't want to ask someone to move. He didn't want to have to talk to a stranger. An uneasy amount of nerves hit Sehun when he had to talk to a stranger. He could do it, if he had to. He could do it when he was with people he knew; peer pressure to look confident. But he never wanted to do it if he didn't have to. He could just stand, and that's what he intended to do.

"No. Stand," Sehun used as little Korean as possible, and then paused to repeat it in Chinese.

Tao fidgeted a little and tried again. "Sit."

He watched the blonde Korean shake his head again and use the same words. "No. Stand."

"Why?" Zitao questioned, and he found Sehun shooting him a glare over the shoulder.

It was when the bus abruptly started to move that Sehun fell back into Zitao, the movement causing pain to make Sehun gasp and lose his balance a little. Tao held onto Sehun, his quick reflexes paying off for a moment as he managed to keep himself on his feet and hold Sehun up. There were a couple odd looks shot at them, but Zitao lowered his head and tried to focus on helping the boy in his arms gather onto his feet. It took moments for Sehun to find himself again, and when he did, he turned a little to face Tao.

With one had holding his side, Sehun used the other to hold onto a pole and looked to the Chinese boy who now stood in front of him. He was a little thankful. A little. It was still Tao's fault that he was hurt in the first place and in pain, but he had to admit, he was glad he didn't just topple over on the bus in front of strangers. It would have been embarrassing.

"Xiexie," Sehun thanked the other in Chinese, only for Zitao to turn his head away; dismissing it.

Sehun still felt the pain radiate but that didn't quite matter as much to him as the way Tao ignored him. What had he done now? The Korean ran his tongue over his teeth and chewed on his lips before he too looked away. If Zitao was going to pretend it was nothing, then he was too. 

But still, it bothered Sehun.

- - -

A small laugh came from the boy next to Sehun in class, Jun-Kyu and he nudged Sehun a little. Why did he have to do that? Sehun cringed and his eyes flickered to the teacher in the front of the class. He was supposed to be teaching, but he seemed to have digressed into an anecdote which led to a long-winded story of some moment in his childhood. Sehun had managed to tune him out when he started to get a little confused with the details of how old he was and whether it happened to him or a friend.

"So you want my notes, because your exchange student hit you with a stick?" Jun-Kyu questioned for the third time with suspicion still in his voice.

"Yes, it's why I wasn't in class. If you aren't going to share, I'll ask on of the girls, they'll give me them," Sehun muttered back; he probably wouldn't. He would have asked the girls in the first place if he wanted to.

"No, no, I'll give them to you," Jun-Kyu answered with a nod and smile. "Why are you in a bad mood?"

"I'm in pain," a sigh broke Sehun's lips and he felt the pain again. "And I've thought about killing my roommate a thousand times since I woke up."

"Killing him?" Jun-Kyu seemed half-amused and half-worried. "Really?"

Sehun nodded his head, and glanced around the room. His eyes fell on the door and the familiar face of Zitao who was standing outside it. Why was he there? How long had he been there for? He had said something in Chinese and then in hardly understandable Korean about waiting. 

"Is that him?" Jun-Kyu's voice made Sehun turn his attention away.

"A thousand and one."

- - -

As soon as class finished, Zitao went against the flow of students to meet Sehun at his seat. Without a word, he began to help Sehun pack away the things in his bag and was met with an annoyed noise from the Korean boys lips. But he tried to ignore it and focus on helping. Neatly closing and putting everything away. When he heard Sehun talking, Zitao looked up to see another boy. It was the one Sehun had been talking to during class. Tao had waited outside of Sehun's class for the entire lecture and he'd glanced in once or twice to see how far everyone was along. 

Tao lowered his gaze and kept it there, pulling the bag over his shoulder and balancing out the weight of both his and Sehun's bags. 

"Food?" The unknown male to Tao asked, and Tao felt eyes on him. They both were waiting for his answer.

Zitao's eyes flickered to Sehun, the other was standing and holding his side. Did he want him to come? Was he allowed to come? 

"I thought you said he could understand some Korean," Jun-Kyu stated and Sehun pulled a slight face.

Jun-Kyu was the one who wanted Tao to come eat with them, and he'd asked if Zitao could understand Korean; he was sure the Chinese sudent understood the simple word. 'Food.' Was he playing dumb? Sehun nodded, and grabbed Zitao's upper arm before he began to pull the other along. 

"He wants food, let's just go," Sehun told Jun-Kyu who was still waiting for answer. 

"Ne," Tao's response came and Sehun nodded.

"See," Sehun told Jun-Kyu who jogged up to the other side of Tao. "He understands fine."

"Right," Jun-Kyu's disbelieving voice came with a nod.

Sehun kept his hand tightly around Zitao's upper arm, part to keep the other moving with and not walk off on his own, and part because Sehun was finding it difficult to walk the longer he did. He found himself in pain more, and Tao never questioned him when he leaned more of his weight over.